#i need to draw him with a fuck off huge lollipop Right Now

[hershelchocolateart]

NOOOOO WIDDLE GERMAN BOY THAT LOLLIPOP IS TOO BIG!!!! OH NO HIS HAIR IS TOO FLUFFY HE CAN'T HEAR ME-

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[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ A FIRST DATE ❜

with Johnny ‘Coco’ Cruz.

Request: Can I request a fluffy Coco imagine?? From his POV about their 1st date and his thoughts abt her and stuff? I really want some coco fluff lol. ❤❤🔥

BY ANON

Word count: about 1.7k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author.

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“Brother, just be yourself”.

Angel thinks that Coco is giving it more importance than it really has, after trying different outfits, without finding the perfect one. He doesn't have many clothes, because he doesn't really need it. But now, he's really pissed off.

“If I act like usually, she'll kick ma' ass in fucking seconds”. He grumbles sitting over his bed, rubbing his face with both hands.

You two met at the hospital some week ago, when he suffered some kind of accident that left him blind in one eye, for some time. He felt his heart pumping because of love for the first time, when he saw you after cleaning his healthy eye. And before that, he was already truly fascinated by the way you had to calm him down using your voice. A sweet and honeyed tone that he could be listening to his whole life. He couldn't help but think how good falling asleep every night hearing you talking would be. It took him almost two weeks to ask you out, but he couldn't feel more happy when you said yes without letting him finish the question. Coco felt strange when he left the hospital after it, experimenting a bunch of sensations stuck in his chest that made him feel better than ever.

Now, his insecurities are coming into the light. Everything he touches ends up destroyed, broken. You are too pure for his shit. You don't deserve to take that risk. Taking off his phone from his pocket, he searches for your number. Gilly and Angel are looking at him intrigued, until they find out what he's going to do. The big one takes the phone off from his hands, while the oldest Reyes holds him to guide him towards the door.

“You're not gonna flake on her, pendejo”. He grunts, pushing him outside his house.

His brothers follow him to the meeting place, watching you sit on a bench waiting for him, after twenty minutes standing up and walking around the big fountain. You look beautiful, dressed with a pair of shorts, a baggy white shirt with the sleeves rolled up on your shoulders and black sneakers. He turns around, trying to run away from your life again, facing his friends.

“I can't”. He just says, with his hands almost sweating. “She's too much for me”.

“She's perfect for you, man!” Gilly rolls his eyes.

“C'mon, Coco, don' be a chicken and get the girl”.

Licking his bottom lip, he just nods in silence, trying to find the perfect words to encourage himself. Turning over his Vans, he starts his way towards you, doubting for some seconds. And he's about to leave when you raise your eyes from your phone. The smile you draw with the corner of your lips gives him a heart attack, knowing that he could die full of happiness right now.

“Hey, I thought you weren't coming”.

Maybe it wasn't the greeting he was expecting and he feels so sorry for having made you wait. Stroking the back of his head, he forces a grin.

“Yeah… I was… 'bout to not comen'”.

Your gesture turning from enthusiasm to disheartening, causes him some bitter shivers inside his chest. He has already fuck up the good vibes between you two, that borned in the hospital. Seeing you nod in silence, shrugging your shoulders, makes him feel out of air; trying to think something to fix it up.

“I really… appreciate that, at least, you came to tell me that this isn't going to happen… It would be… humiliating”. You whisper putting your gaze away from him.

Coco can see the way your lips are trembling, as if you were about to cry, and it's painful. For him, it's painful.

“No, mami, lis—”.

“It's okay, Johnny, you don't have to excuse yourself”. Waving a hand on air, you try to make it easy for him. “I get it”.

He's missing the boat, watching you turning around and focusing your attention on the screen of your phone again. Maybe typing to some friend to pick you up, maybe about to call anyone else. But finally, the orders from his brain move his body to stop you.

“No, wait!” He says somewhat loud, grabbing your left wrist. “I wanna date you. I wanna have a lot of dates with you. This ain't you, mami, but me”.

Looking at his hand confused, you travel his arm until finding his dark and desperate eyes, talking to you in silence. Begging you to listen.

“My life is a shit. A mess... A chaos. I… had this accident with my eye because… of a dogfight with another gang. I didn' wanna lie to you, you know? I think you're smart, and pretty and… you don' deserve a guy like me who is… always in fuckin' trouble and that… used to ride a bike that probably would never ride again, just… with a shitty work on a scrapyard”. Coco is getting more and more nervous because you're not saying a single word back. He gulps with some difficulty, taking a step closer to you. “I ain't a good man, I don' do good things, but… I really wanna date you, mami. I've never been so true in ma' life”.

And he's about to give up with a crappy sensation running his body, when you tangle your finger with the ones that were gripping your arm.

“Maybe you can teach me to drive a bike, so I can ride for you”. You just say, hoping that it's enough for him.

“That sounds good, ma'”. He replies with no hesitation, feeling like for the first time he's having a good opportunity in his life.

Watching you smile again it's like seeing a rainbow after a destructive storm, putting his arm over your shoulders to start a low walk.

“Do you like pizza?” You ask then, raising your head toward his.

“Yeah, 'course”. He answers with an incredulous gesture on his face.

“Okay, do you know a food truck close to the hospital, with red and blues stripes?”

“No”.

“Seriously?” You almost scream, breaking into laughs. “You like pizza and you have never tried it before?”

Coco shakes his head, falling in love a little more after hearing your laughter. That simple gesture has made him feel more happy than ever before.

“You're gonna really, really love it”. You say with emotion, moving a hand on air to highlight your words.

“I'm sure”. He chuckles nodding. “You look pretty convinced”.

And you weren't wrong. Maybe not everybody would think that sitting on an edge of a sidewalk, eating pizza, it's the perfect date. But for him, it's the perfect one. He can ask for anything else that hearing you talk for hours about your hobbies, about what you would like to be in five years, about the things the two of you have in common. And he has never talked this much, either. But it's too easy for him to follow the conversation and flow it into another one, until the night falls over the town.

Coco insists on walking with you back to your home, just to be sure that you come safe. And even if he has had so much fun, he's doubting if you would like to repeat it. Maybe at the end you were just trying to be kind with him, because he seemed so desperate for being with you for a couple hours, to not make him feel bad. And maybe that was the reason why you didn't want him to take you home. But the real reason is that your housemates are waiting on the porch for you to tell them how it was. As soon as they see you coming closer, they run into the house ashamed and laughing, making your cheeks burn when Coco notices what is going on.

“Sorry, they're like children…” You say hastily, stopping your steps and placing yourself in front of him.

“It's okay, ma'. My… friends are waiting too”.

Between the two of you gets installed an uncomfortable silence for some seconds, until he sees you holding your bag, looking for something inside it. He breaks into loud laughs when his healthy eyes focus on the heart shaped lollipop, that you're offering him.

“I heard you the day you visited the hospital, so… there's your reward for being a good boy”.

Coco takes it, shaking his head and showing you a funny smile, before catching you between his arms. Embracing you tightly, he places a kiss on your cheek. A lovely one. Pulling himself away, he opens the candy to tuck it into his mouth.

“The best one”. He says tasting the strawberry flavor of it.

“Okay, ah… I have three kids to take care of”. You joke about your friends, pointing at your house for a second. “I had so much fun today…”

“Yeah, me too… We can repe—”.

“I'm free tomorrow”.

Hearing you interrupt him, after realizing that he wants to have another date with you. Taking off the lollipop from his mouth, he leans forward to press your lips with his, shortening the distance between both. Feeling your fingers getting tangled in his shirt give him some pleasant chills, ending up pecking your lips gently.

“What about breakfast? I know a place with the best pancakes”. He proposes then, giving you an eskimo kiss.

“I like it”. You nod, kissing his lips a last time.

“Pick you up at ten?”

“Pick me up at ten”.

“Have a good night, mami”.

“You too, pirate”. Puckering your lips, he laughs again. “Enjoy it, you're gonna see again in a couple months”.

He frowns a little confused, drawing slowly a huge smile on his lips.

“Spoiler of your next doctor appointment”.

“Is tha' why you told me tha' I could teach you?”

Walking backwards to your house, he sees you happily nodding.

“'Am gonna marry you one day, you know'et?”

These words may have been somewhat precipitate, or at least that's what he's thinking until seeing you nod again.

“I hope it”.

“Shit”, he thinks to himself, licking again the lollipop; not leaving your hood until you're inside your house.

[justsassysworld]

Grief Makes Bad Decisions

Grief Makes Bad (Or Maybe Not So Bad) Decisions

Beetlejuice x f!Reader

Word Count: 1823

“Gertrude, Eustace, I’m home!” you call, entering your house. 

You're roommates are a lovely, but incredibly odd couple. They're ridiculously sweet, horribly in love, and over a hundred years dead. 

Over a hundred and twenty years ago, they were killed by some random intruder, leaving them unable to move on from the place of their murder. 

You were beyond freaked out the first time you saw them, the day after you moved into their old home. Apparently, most people don't see ghosts, but you are a strange and unusual type person. It took awhile to see past their bloody and gruesome appearances, but you've grown so used to them now that you don't even notice their bloody clothes and bullet wounds anymore. 

A sense of wrongness overtakes you as you notice an envelope on an end table. It’s addressed to you.

Darling Y/N, 

It has been lovely these past six months. You’re such a sweet girl who has been so good to us. We hope you will look back on your time with us with fondness, but our time has come.

We were obligated to spend one hundred and twenty five years in our home. Today marks the end of our purgatorial sentence. We had wanted to prepare you for our departure, but the exact date slipped our mind, and was upon us before we could act.

I am truly sorry we are unable to give a proper goodbye, and wish you nothing but happiness for your future. We will always appreciate the loving care and consideration you have shown us. 

Wishing you a joyous and love filled life, 

Eustace and Gertrude Mayford

Tears prickling your eyes, a sob wrenches from your chest. You hadn’t known them long, but you were closer to them than anyone.

The next few hours fly by as you process the loss. You find yourself seated on the couch, a glass of wine in one hand, an old flyer in the other.

You’d come across it less than a week after moving in. it was for something called a “bio-exorcist.” When you showed it to Gertrude, she rolled her eyes.

“He’s a conman. After he was caught tormenting a couple who had just died and the family that moved in after them, he was forbidden any contact with the living world for twenty years,” she looked quite annoyed, obviously not liking the man. “The sentence ended a few years ago and he’s been nothing but a nuisance ever since.”

Both Eustace and her had warned you off summoning him, even for fun, multiple times, but you’re feeling lonely, and the tiniest bit inebriated, and you need to talk to someone who might understand, at least someone who knows about the spirit world.

Steeling yourself, and sending an apology to your departed friends, you say, “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice,” as quickly as possible.

Seconds roll by, leaving you disappointed. Out of nowhere, the couch shudders and quakes, making you hold on for dear life. Your eyes squeeze shut until the ride comes to an end.

A maniacal laugh and a hand on your leg has your eyes snapping an eye open. You let out a startled scream, jumping up from your spot, wanting to get some space between you and the...man?

“Who-who the hell are you?” you stutter, logic refusing to make itself known.

He gives you a huge grin, mossy teeth glittering in the low light, “I’m the ghost with the most, babe.”

“So, you’re Beet-” you’re cut off, physically unable to finish.

Eyes wide, you take in his satisfied smirk and his wagging finger, letting you know he’s responsible. “Uh uh uh, babes. We won’t be using that name again tonight.”

You bolt up, pacing the floor. Experimentally, you try to speak, “So,” you sigh in relief. “You’re the...person the Mayfords warned me about? I was expecting someone scarier.”

“Scarier?” he looks at you like you’ve got two heads.

“Well, yeah,” you say, beyond blunt. Nerves making you lose all tact. “I mean, you’re hardly intimidating. You’re not that much taller than me, you’ve got a bit of a gut, and honestly, you’re more gross than scary.”

Your pacing is brought to a sudden halt by a shockingly strong pair of hands. He pushes until you’re pressed against a wall, his arms bracket your head, trapping you. Something odd grips your wrists and ankles, spreading you out before him.

You’re suddenly horribly aware of your lack of clothes, in just your pajamas, a paper thin tank top and tiny pair of shorts. His hands still by your head, he gives you a long look over, his gaze almost tactile.

Except it’s not just his gaze that’s touching you, he seems to have grown a third arm out of his chest, which is running down your body, from just south of your breasts to just north of your shorts.

“Well now, babes,’ he growls in your ear. “I could do anything I want to you, there ain’t a thing you can do to stop me. You still think you I’m not intimidating?”

Swallowing hard, you decide to press your luck. “Intimidating? Not really. Dominant and sexy? Fuck yeah.”

 A coy smile crosses your lips as his jaw drops. As what you said sinks in, an evil grin splits his face.

“Oh, babycakes,” his lips are a hair's breadth from yours. “Game on.” His mouth crashes against yours; lips, teeth, and tongues battling for control.

Your fight is half hearted at best, wanting him to be in charge. Out of nowhere you’re released, falling into his waiting arms. He carries you to the couch, placing you how he wants you, naked at crouch level, clothes melting away.

You bite your lip, looking at him with fluttering lashes. “Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Juice.”

“Fuck yeah there is,” he purrs, fingers digging in your hair. “I want you to play with your pretty little pussy while I use your mouth as my own personal cock sleeve.” 

You wrinkle your nose, about to remark on that comment, when he opens his pants, pulling out his cock. Tilting your head, you take it in.

It’s as pale as the rest of him, around average length, but really fucking girthy, perfect for sex, but it was going to be hell on your jaw. You’re up for the challenge.

Starting to lean forward, you’re surprised when he stops you. “Uh uh uh, I’m captain of this cruise.”

He pulls you up to kiss just under his belly button, before having you kiss your way to and down his shaft. At the head, he commands, “Lick it.”

You do, treating it like your favorite lollipop. Feeling mischievous, you manage to give it one quick suck before he pulls you away. “Naughty girl.”

He gives you a wink that you return.

The tease lasts much longer than you would have thought, his stamina shocking you. He reminds you that you’re supposed to be providing him with some visual stimulus, so you run your hand down to your aching clit.

Jas you start to pleasure yourself, he lets you take him in your mouth, slowly. Stroking in and out, more of a tease than anything. Every time you try to take him deeper, he pulls back or pulls you away.

You’re starting to get frustrated, when he starts to thrust, slow and easy, allowing you to get used to his girth.

“Two inside, babes,” he pants, confusing you until you realize what he wants.

Hand slipping lower, you slip your middle and ring fingers into your pussy, surprised at just how wet you are. Using your palm to keep pressure on your clit, you keep pace with him the best you can. As you both grow closer, your breathing turns into pants, moans, and groans.

“Cum for me,” he commands, a growl deepening his voice. “Cum all over your hand.”

Unable to resist, you do, thrashing and screaming around his thick pulsing cock. This triggers his own orgasm, sending a spray of surprisingly pleasant, viscous cum. You swallow every drop.

You try to lean back, but he stops you, flipping you over the back of the couch.

His hands caress your ass, occasionally dropping sharp slaps, making you gasp. One hand slips to feel just how wet you are.

“What a dirty girl.”

You feel his breath against your heated flesh, seconds before a ridiculously long tongue buries itself deep inside your core. It wiggles and worms, finding every crevice, every pleasurable nook you never knew you had. Trying to move, wanting more, he holds you tight, keeping you right where he wants you. Using his tongue and fingers he draws two more explosive climaxes from deep inside.

He then repositions you. Laying on your back, you catch your breath as he settles between your spread thighs.

You whimper, “BJ, I’m too sensitive.”

His grin is less than reassuring. He drapes himself over you, planting another lingering kiss on your lips, cock brushing against your screaming clit. “Good,” he growls, “I want you cummin’ all over my dick.” 

You try to jerk away, body refusing anymore pleasure, but Beetlejuice is having none of it. He pins your arms above your head, starting to thrust into you. Grinding and twisting, he’s buried deep. Against your wishes, your legs wrap around his hips, drawing him tighter.

Nibbling your neck, he sets a breakneck pace. A blinding light over takes you as another screaming orgasm tears through you, then another, and another. 

Finally, when it feels like you’re about to pass out, you feel his cum spurt deep inside, hearing him growl low as his teeth sink in your shoulder.

“Beetlejuice!”

Minutes pass, or hours, or maybe even days, as you regain your senses. You’re surprised to find yourself in your bed, even more to realize it’s not your body pillow you’re cuddling, but an actual body.

Looking up as much as your sore muscles will allow, anger shoots through you.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Hey, babes,” he grins down at you, cigar in one hand, glass of wine in the other. “Mornin’”

“Are you going to answer my question?”

“Yes.”

A minute passes, “Well?”

“I told you, ‘Yes,’ answering your question.” The glimmer in his eyes telling you he knows what you want, and he’s enjoying your frustration.

Taking a deep breath, you grind out, “Is there a reason you’re smoking a cigar in my very much non-smoking home? Also, what possessed you to pour yourself the last glass of my fifty dollar wine?”

He just gives you a shit eating grin, refusing to answer.

Shaking your head and sighing, you drop your head back on his chest, lacking the energy to argue.

“Goodnight, BJ.”

“Goodnight, roomie.”

 You’re just about to drift back off, when your eyes snap open, “Roomie!?”

[viking-raider]

Bound: Part 6

Summary:  It’s the morning after getting home to London, after your two week honeymoon in Italy, with Henry. The harmony that’s been created around the two of you, as a married couple, has only continued to strengthen itself. Especially, after the breaking of the last barrier between you, the night before.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 5,724

Rating: PG-13 - Fluff, Arranged Marriage, Romance, and Mature Content, light Dirty Talk.

Inspiration: Bound - Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt.5 

Author’s Note: Mature content in this chapter, hope you enjoy it tho!

TagList: @jennylovelyheart, @peakygroupie, @jessevans @MITZWINCHESTER @rosie-loves-things, @ohjules, @mary-ann84, @omgkatinka, @hm-fck, @the-freak-cassie-131, @heelsamizayn, @agniavateira, @cap-barnes, @romyr4, @michelehansel, @katiebriggs004-blog, @badassbaker, @sweetsistergingerspice,@thisisntmyrightera, @authentic-bish-face, @rizeandvibe, @severuined​

“You all right?” Henry asked, still slightly out of breath.

You laugh softly, rubbing your cheek against his chest. “Other than being sure, I'll be sore as hell tomorrow,” You chuckled, already feeling the soreness between your legs and your lower back. “I'm amazing.” Sex with your exes wasn't as good as it just had been with Henry.

“I have a solution for that.” He grinned, kissing your temple.

“Do you?” You giggled, laying on your side as Henry got up.

You grinned watching Henry pad into the bathroom, enjoying the view of his bare butt as he went, and rolled onto your stomach to look into the bathroom as you heard the roar of water. You lifted a eyebrow at him as he stood in the bathroom door, raising an eyebrow back at you. You giggled, licking your lips and got up, letting Henry pull you against him and kiss you, deeply. Henry smiled into your hair as you relaxed back against him, lounging against him in the hot bath he'd drawn for you. It made him happy to feel how relaxed you were against him, while you enjoyed the bath, feeling you growing more and more comfortable being naked with him. You drew lazy shapes against his thigh in the water, grinning as his fingertips caressed your belly, resting your head back against his shoulder and pressing your lips to the side of his jaw. Henry moved his head, capturing your lips with his and hugging you closer against him.

“I love you.” You whispered against his lips.

Henry grinned, like mad. “I love you too.” He whispered back, living for you telling him you loved him.

The bath finished and you both dried off, You pulled on one of Henry's shirts, smirking as it covered you like a dress, and crawled into bed. Henry tugged on a pair of clean boxer briefs and got into bed with you, wrapping his arm around you as you snuggled back against him, and curved his body around yours. Both of you erupted into laughter as Kal jumped into bed with you, trying to nudge his head between you and Henry, but settled for laying on top of your legs, when neither of you would let him get between your bodies.

You woke up the next morning with a surprised gasp. “Henry.” You moaned, breathy, feeling his tongue lapping at your pussy.

“Morning.” He grinned up at you, watching you bite into your lip. “Sleep well?” He asked, teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue.

You chuckled, grinning. “You damn tease.” You chided him, meaninglessly, looking down your body at him, pupils blowing out, seeing his tongue play with you.

“I'll take that as a yes.” He grinned more, then turned his full attention back to what he was doing.

“Fuck.” You whimpered, your hand going into his hair.

Henry sucked gently, his tongue teasing and licking with a ridiculous amount of experience, rolling your eyes into the back of your head, panting and whimpering with need. You couldn't believe how good it felt and how much you wanted Henry to keep going, not wanting him to stop. He enjoyed hearing you whimper his name and the gentle tug of your hand in his hair, feeling your legs twitch as your pleasure took control of you. You whined, when he pulled away from you, just before you came, making him laugh at your response.

“Needy, are we?” He chuckled, resting his hands on the back of your legs and pulling you down to him.

You glowered up at him, “You better..” Your words dead in your throat feeling Henry's hard cock start to ease inside of you, that now familiar stretch. “Oh, thank God.” You whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. “No.” You whispered, breathless, wrapping your legs around his, stopping him as he moved to roll onto his back. “Stay.”

“Okay.” Henry answered, panting, and nodded as he settled deep inside of you. “I love being inside of you.” He moaned, wrapping an arm around your waist. “How you take all of me.” He sighed, thrusting into you, but not like he had the night before.

“How could I not, when you feel this good.” You told him, tightening around him on purpose and making him moan deep in his throat.

Henry smiled down at you, capturing your lips again as he drew out his thrusts to full length, from tip to balls and loving the tight quiver of your walls around his shaft. You pushed up against him, pressing your palms against his butt and dug your nails into his skin, making Henry groan and you giggle. You loved the hot feel of Henry's breath on your neck and shoulder, feeling his stomach muscles flex against yours, how your hips fit inside of his, like a puzzle piece, and the noises that he made, the heavy pants, groans and grunts. He pressed his mouth to your clavicle, sucking on the thin layer of skin and muscle there, driving his long thrusts deeper inside of you, driving himself into your sweet spot like a battle ram. You gasped and moaned as he hit it just right, slipping your palms up his back to his shoulders.

“How sweet you sound, when I hit your spot, baby.” Henry moaned, popping his mouth from your shoulder, and looking down at you, rocking more steadily into you, and making both you and the bed shake. “And you only get wetter.” He grinned, nibbling on your neck and feeling how slick you made his cock as it buried inside of you.

You blushed, tightening the muscles of your stomach to hug your walls around his cock, almost trapping him inside of you and drawing out a long and faltering moan from Henry's lips. He held himself still, buried completely inside of you, his head hung, forehead gently brushing against yours as he blinked and shook his head slightly, feeling dizzy from the aroused toxicity of his brain and body. “Did I break you, Henry?” You teased him, feeling his body shiver as you stroked your fingertips up and down his spine.

“Hm.” Was all Henry could whisper as you rolled your hips about his still prick, nudging the side of your face with his.

“Oh, damn.” You chuckled, resting your hands on his shoulders. “I broke Superman.” You laughed, pushing him to move out of you and lay on his back, beside you. “The DC universe will never forgive me.”

“I'll...forgive you.” He moaned, sounding entranced.

“How sweet of you.” You smiled, pressing a kiss to his chest, feeling his heart pounding against your lips, his breathing still rough. Your fingers danced down his body, caressed over his wet and swollen cock and dipped between his legs and cupped his balls in your palm. “This for me, Henry?” You asked, rolling his sack in your hand, and squeezing them every so often, getting Henry to whimper and bite his lip. “Do you like it..” You pressed your lips to the base of his sternum. “when I take all of you..” Your lips met the spot on his stomach, just above where the tip of his cock rested. “into my pussy?”

“Oh, god.” He blushed, grinning up at the ceiling and resting a hand on your shoulder. “You feel so fucking incredible filled up with my cock, Nugget.” He rumbled, twitching at the warm feel of your lips on the slit of his prick. “That pussy was made to be fucked by me.” He growled, eyes rolling into his head as the tip of your tongue rubbed at the opening of his cock, then slowly sucked it into your mouth, treating it like a lollipop.

Henry propped his head up on a pillow, elevating it so he could see you comfortably situated between his spread legs, eyes looking up at him as you suckled his head and one hand stroked the base. He'd never seen anything so beautiful and maddeningly sensual in his life, and he wanted to keep you there, in that spot, with his cock in you, for fucking ever. You let his cock go and licked away the trace of come on your lips, never breaking eye contact with him.

“I'm curious,” He cooed at you, stroking the side of your face and brushing your hair behind your ears. “If you can take all of me in your mouth.”

Smirking at him and dipping your head, you never broke eye contact as you took his head again into your mouth and slowly took it in, keeping your breathing easy through your nose and your throat relaxed. The more of Henry's cock you took, the wider his blue eyes grew, mouth dropping open with utter astonishment and chuckling softly. You paused for a moment, little more than half his cock rested smoothly in your mouth, Henry figured that was all you could manage, before he felt your jaw open and the last two inches of his base disappeared into the warm compartment of your throat. He blinked at you several times, his mouth still hanging open and eyes huge and saw that mischievous and smug spark in your eyes, your tongue teasing the throbbing vein underneath his shaft. Henry brushed his hands through your hair several times, pushing it farther back from your face, wanting a clear and unobstructed view of his cock so completely consumed by your watering mouth. He could only feel the faintest hint of your gag reflex, and found himself even more impressed by you, and your hidden talents. You held him in your mouth for a long time, letting him enjoy the sight and hummed around him, feeling him twitch against the back of your throat at the vibration of your voice around his sensitive member. Drawing back slowly and increasing suction as you did, so a sharp pop sounded through the bedroom as his head slipped free of your lips.

“You taste good.” You told him, licking your lips and taking him whole again, but even deeper this time, to the very back edge of your reflex, blinking as your eyes watered a bit.

“Not as good as you taste, pet.” He replied, pressing his head back into the pillow and gripping at the sheets beneath him.

You chuckled around him, setting a steady pace, head bobbing rhythmically between his legs. Henry's hips thrust shallowly into your mouth, his orgasm building up again as you worked him with surprising skill. You moved an arm between his legs and cupped his balls in your hand, stimulating him farther, and moaned happily hearing him moan and pant, his soft grunts growing steadier and louder, as you felt his balls tighten.

“Y/n.” He grunted, his hand going into the back of your hair. “You don't...have to...do this...” He said, out of breath, eyes fluttering and stomach muscles clenching. “You don't have to swal..” He gasped suddenly, his fingers tightening in your hair as he came.

Having felt it about to happen, you pulled back, leaving half his cock still in your mouth and cupped your tongue, collecting his load in your mouth and moaning at the taste of him. Henry looked down the length of his spent body as you sat up, tilting your head slightly to open your mouth and show him, how full it was with his come. His cock twitched as it softened, seeing it. You smirked at him, closing your mouth again and rolled it around your mouth, trying to place the subtle taste lingering under the mild bitterness of his semen. Shrugging and meeting his eye, you slowly swallowed it, taking your time to enjoy it, and downing it in three gulps.

“Good fucking God.” Henry whimpered, licking his lips as he watched you swallow the last of it. “You can take all of me, and swallow my load.” He shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around it. “Christ, y/n. I never thought...”

“You never thought,” You interrupted him, moving to straddle one of his thick thighs. “After everything, we've been through together.” You rubbed your still wet pussy against his thigh. “The long fated crushes, the unrequited love, the arranged marriage, finding out about my rape, and breaking through that barrier, to making love with you. That, I wouldn't take you into my mouth, or let you come into my mouth, or that I would swallow you, and enjoy the hell out of it.” You pressed your palms to his waist, rubbing them along his etched hips as you kept rutting against his thigh, making it slippery with your own come.

“Yes.” He panted, holding your hips and pushing his thigh up against your pussy even more, watching it rock along his thigh. “For fuck sake, do you ever stop? I could take a bath in how fucking wet you are, sweetheart.”

You laughed, moving to lay down on him, still rubbing yourself off against his thigh. “You talk a million times more, during sex, than you do any other time.” You told him, kissing his chest and throat.

“Does that bother you?” He asked, stroking your hair and back.

“N-o.” You whimpered, both your thighs squeezed his, your movements becoming uneven as your climax started to wash over you.

“Look at me.” Henry whispered, cupping your face in his hands and lifting your head. “I want to see that beautiful face,” he told you, rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb. “while you come.” he smiled, kissing your lip.

You mewled against his mouth, your body shuddered as your orgasm hit and came against Henry's leg. “Henry.” You cried, face twisting with pleasure as you held his gaze.

“Gorgeous.” He praised you, hugging you against his body and kissing your lips, ever so sweetly. “How about I make you breakfast?” He whispered, after you both laid cuddled together for a while. “You did make me dinner, after all.”

“Food sounds good.” You nodded, laying heavily against him, eyes closed and tip toeing between being awake and asleep.

Henry smirked, kissing your hair. “Breakfast, it is then, my love.” he said into your hair, turning his body, so he laid you down on the bed beside him, and got up. “I'll bring it to you.” He added, leaning down to kiss you again, and playfully slap you on the butt.

“Oh my, I feel so spoiled.” You giggled, rolling onto your back as Henry pulled some clothing on.

“For the rest of your life.” Henry chuckled back, opening the bedroom door and letting Kal run in and pounce on you in bed.

“Yes, a very good morning to you, Bear.” You laughed, hugging Kal around the neck.

Henry went downstairs to the kitchen, and set about making breakfast for the both of you. Needing to get into his diet for the first season of the Witcher, that he was due to start filming in October, Henry pulled out the items he needed to make himself his protein pancakes, knowing that they would be good for you as well, with the diet you were on, as you worked to get back on your bike and to the Olympic game, he also added a bit more cinnamon, knowing how much you loved it. Henry made the first of his oatmeal shakes for the day, and the fruit smoothie you always had with your own breakfast. With breakfast made, Henry carefully carried it upstairs and let you take your plate and fork from him, setting your drink on your bedside table, before sitting in bed with you.

“Mmm.” You hummed around the bite of pancake, resting back against the headboard. “You are a marvelous cook, Henry.” You commented him, lovingly, turning your head to kiss him on the cheek.

“Makes eating healthy a lot easier, if you know what's going into your food.” He replied, turning to catch your lips for a brief moment before you went back to your pancakes. “And to impress my wife.” He added, chuckling and winking at you, making you blush around your fork.

Finished with breakfast, you took the dishes downstairs to the sink and went back up to join Henry in the shower. “What are your plans for today?” You asked him, soaping yourself up.

“I've got to hit the gym in a bit, then meet with Lauren this afternoon, then,” Henry laughed, stepping under the spray of the shower head. “the gym again. What are you planning?” He asked, looking at you over his shoulder.

“I was going to hit the track.” You told him, switching places with him and rinsing the soap off you.

“How are you going to do that?” He asked, frowning. “Your bike isn't here, yet.”

“No, it's not.” You agreed, nodding your head. “But, I know the group that runs the track, I've gone on several tours with them, and they'll let me use one of theirs, until mine arrives.” You explained, hugging your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek to his broad wet back.

“Just,” Henry answered, resting his hand on yours and squeezing them. “don't get hurt, y/n.”

“I'll be fine, Super worrywart.” You teased him, nipping at his shoulder.

“I have understandable cause to worry about you, Nugget.” He told you, sighing and turning in your arms, cupping your face in his hands. “I don't want you to get hurt again.” He said, glancing at the scar on your injured knee.

“You know, I will be careful, Henry.” You tried to reassure him, running your fingers through his wet curls.

“I hope so.” He whispered back, pressing his forehead to yours. “I don't know, what I would do with myself, if you got hurt.”

“Turn into the biggest mother Hen on the planet.” You teased him, with a giggle.

Henry laughed, shaking his head. “I see, what you did there.” he grinned, pressing his lips together.

You giggled again, kissing the corner of his smiling mouth and got out of the shower, to dry off, and watched as Henry finished washing himself, how the water rushed and cascaded over his tall frame. If you had known, life with him would be like this, you'd have agreed to marrying him, a lot sooner.

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, notquiteascrazy!

For @notquiteascrazy��. I hope you'll enjoy it Lex, I tried to stick to your likes as much as I could!!! Merry Xmas, darling!

Read On AO3

*****

The air was thick with snow and the smell of roasted chestnuts and marshmallows, and Alec was staring out from the window of the subway that was taking him home.

He sighed in relief thinking about the fact that at least for the Christmas week, he had a job. At least he wouldn't be forced to stay home alone, drinking a beer and eating a microwave heated pizza, and thinking.

He couldn't go home, not this festivities, not after having left his family business shoving his car and house keys on his father’s desk, shouting that the price was too high for his mental health, seeing all his family's eyes widen in disbelief, because Alec had never said no to anything. Never a quarrel, never an argument, never a sign of disappointment. Anything.

He had endured through high school and university, studying something that made his stomach twitch in disgust still he brought home the best grades, the best results, the best graduation a parent could have ever asked for.

But working more than twelve hours per day for it? It soon became too much to bear.

After two years of sleepless nights, pills, too much coffee, and the beginning of panic attacks, he'd decided to quit and leave that horrible life he crazily had thought he could force himself into.

Sometimes he would say to himself that maybe he hadn't tried hard enough, that maybe if he'd resisted a couple of months more, it would have become a routine, but he was aware that that could have never happened.

Alec hated numbers with all his heart, since he was a kid and that really wouldn't do in his family. For centuries, the Lightwoods held a huge business accountant studio that worked with the most outstanding industries, firms of the country, and even some others abroad. He was the eldest, he was supposed to be the heir. But he wasn't. He'd never been, and he never would be.

Izzy, she was the right one. Strong, sharp, determined, assertive and good enough to bring the best out for the family business. She was, and Alec loved her so much. He loved her fierce steps along the corridor when she was angry at someone, the way her voice turned sharp and hard on the phone when she discovered something she didn't like, the way her decisions were quick and always right.

He, instead, had always loved crayons and pencils. He loved the feeling of wood between his fingers, the smell of paper whenever he bought a new sketchbook, the rustling sound of his sleeve or his arm when it slid on the paper, and the brush of the pencil lead as it traced lines that gave life to the images that filled his head.

He wanted to become an artist, to go to an art school and then to an academy of arts, but he never had the courage to ask, never dared to hope, Alec ended up letting the days flow by until it was too late.

So there he was now, living alone in a one-room apartment in the outskirts, shifting from one temporary job to another. Apparently, he was "too much" for every position he applied for.

Too qualified, too experienced, too well paid, too grown up, too tall, too clumsy, too smart, too handsome, too… everything.

Izzy and Jace promised him they would come to visit during the holidays, but Alec knew that his family’s Christmas celebrations were something that they couldn't escape from that easily, with relatives, colleagues and business partners coming from all over the place and staying there until the late hours.

He dropped off the subway and walked home, grabbing a kebab along the way.

He switched on the kettle and slumped on the small couch he opened to sleep in at night, covering his legs with a blanket, patiently waiting for the little electric stove to heat the small room, picking up his phone and texting his siblings he had found a job for the Christmas’ month.

He stood and grabbed the kettle, pouring the boiling water into a mug filled with tea leaves, letting the steam soothe his icy red nose and warm him up. He looked outside the small window at the snow silently falling on the buildings.

He opened the bed and threw himself on it, still clothed. He took his sketchbook and started drawing, staring at his hand gently swaying on it, until he fell asleep, his head dropped on one side of the pillow, his hand clutching the pencil, as the Christmas lights and decorations glimmered on his black locks.

Magnus strolled into his office, his eyes shadowed, his beard a little longer than usual, his tie hanging loose around his neck, as if he hadn't the time to fix it properly.

"Are you ok?" Raphael asked him, a worried look on his face.

"Yes. No. I'm definitely not. It's been the worst night I had in years. Max has thrown up six times to the point his face turned green and I spent the night on the phone with Cat trying to figure out how to stop it and making him drink small sips of water, so he wouldn’t be dehydrated. I'm... fuck , I need another coffee, Raphael," he stopped and crashed on the huge armchair behind his long desk.

Raphael went to the coffee pot and filled a cup, putting some cream in it.

"You could have taken the day off you know? You're the boss here. No one is checking if you come to work or not."

"Are you insane?" Magnus glared at him as he sipped his coffee, it's December, the mall is going to be full and I have to check everything and I … I…"

"You don't want to be alone, I know."

Magnus' expression turned sad and distant. He sighed deeply, staring into the void.

"Probably not," he added, "Anyway, let's get back to work, is everything fixed? The extra decorations, the elves, the little presents for the kids coming and...oh my god, Santa? Have you found him?"

Raphael nodded smiling.

"Your kind of guy to be honest, dark, tall and handsome."

"Ah, stop this Raphael. He's gonna be dressed in a Santa costume, a huge pillow on his belly and a white long beard. Also…you should know that Mr. no one  has become my favourite kind of guy."

"If you say so,"  he smirked.

Magnus stood up and left the cup on his desk, waving his hands in the air, dismissing whatever Raphael wanted to argue back.

"Anyway, let's go and see the elves, I'm curious," and he opened the door, gesturing to Raphael to follow him.

Alec woke up earlier than usual, waiting like twenty minutes for the water to warm and finally shower.

He knotted the towel low on his waist, cursing the cold wind that crawled from underneath the gaps in the window’s frames and went to the sink, grabbing his razor to shave. He stared at his image in the mirror. Why was he even shaving? He was about to wear a long white beard for a week. He brushed his knuckles on his stubble and smiled. It looked good on him. His father never wanted him to grow a beard. He used to say it made him look scruffy and that wouldn't go over well with their clients and partners. But now, who cared anymore? He put the razor back in the drawer and went to the stove to make some coffee. He dressed up slowly,  and ate some toast, while chatting with Jace.

The subway was full of people going to work, some of them dressed in their grey and black suits and he felt relieved; he didn't miss that life at all. He took his sketchbook from his backpack and started portraying their faces, the worried and the sad ones, the abandoned lover and the happy newly wedded one. All of them in their morning run to face the day.

The receptionist stopped him as soon as he entered.

"I'm Alec Lightwood, ehm, Santa Claus…"

"Oh, yes Mr. Lightwood, you're a little early, but since you are already here you can go to the locker room and change. Here's your costume."

She was staring at him, a goofy smile on her face. As he walked away he heard her murmur to the other lady next to her that it was a pity to cover all that glory with a Santa's costume.

He chuckled and took the elevator.

The pillow on his belly was soft but huge and it made him uncomfortably hot, and the faint beard itched a bit on his neck. He wore the heavy boots and realized he was already covered in sweat. It was going to be a very long month.

He entered the Children's Land and spotted the man who interviewed him last week. He was standing next to the most enchanting creature Alec had ever laid his eyes on. He stood frozen in the middle of the large hall of the toy shop, just staring, until Raphael noticed him.

"Oh, there you are! Magnus, he's our Santa Claus," he said and pulled Magnus from his wrist toward the tall red and white figure.

"Alec? Oh, can I call you Alec, right? This is Magnus, the real boss here."

Alec was glad to be disguised when Magnus fully turned to look at him. The man was strikingly beautiful, probably just a little older than he was.

He extended his hand and Magnus mirrored him, shaking it for a split second that to Alec seemed like an eternity.

"Strong grip," Magnus said smiling, "perfect for Santa. Also, your height is just perfect. Let me hear your voice, have you practiced lowering it a bit?"

Alec nodded and was about to let him hear his best Ho Ho Ho , when Magnus' phone rang.

"Cat? How is Max feeling? Better? Oh, thank god, he needed some good sleep. Any fever? No? That's good."

Alec knew he shouldn't have been listening, but he just couldn't help it.

Of course he was married. Of course he had a kid and a beautiful wife waiting for him at home.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when Raphael suddenly asked him to follow him toward the big wooden sleigh they had put on the right end corner of the shop.

"This will be your place. You will have a big jute sack behind where you’ll put the letters and a basket full of candies and lollipops for the kids after they have told you their wishes."

Alec listened and nodded.

"Can I make a little drawing for them? Just a sketch of their name or favourite hero?" he asked.

Raphael looked at him amused.

"You can draw?"

"Yes, I'll be quick, I promise."

"Of course you can Alec. It will be an amazing surprise for all of them."

Alec turned and saw Magnus talking to his kid on the phone. His face was soft and he was smiling as if the child could see him. His mind went back to an image of a younger Robert smiling at him. He felt a rush of longing for those days when he was exactly the son their parents had dreamed of. Responsible, always on track, confident, always in the right place at the right moment.

While they were happy, he was overwhelmed. The more they grew proud, the more he was ashamed of himself. The longer they seemed sure of who he was, the further he didn't even know where to begin.

He spun and found Raphael looking at him, brows up to his forehead.

Fuck! He realized he had been staring at what was technically his boss.

He scratched his fingers on the back of his neck trying to think about something good to say and justify his weird behaviour.

"Ahm… he's good with children...not many men are … ehm… it's kinda rare I mean…"

Raphael delighted in the embarrassment he glimpsed in the young man in front of him, and waited amused until Alec fell silent with a frustrated grunt.

Raphael took pity on him and finally laughed, wholeheartedly.

"Yeah, he is.  They love him before he even starts to speak and he can convince them to do whatever he asks. They're kinda spellbound ."

"Yeah I know the feeling."

Alec’s cheeks reddened a bit and he closed his eyes cursing himself for talking without filters, realizing what comment had just left his mouth.

"I mean," he tried, "I know the feeling of being spellbound."

Raphael turned around a little  smirking, “Yeah, he has this effect on everyone he meets."

Alec walked toward the sleigh, checked the basket filled with sweets and sat down, adjusting the pillow on his belly and stretching his legs. He knew they would be bent until late that afternoon. He was glad he hadn’t shaved that morning, otherwise, his pale and delicate skin would have been scratchy in the evening.

He took his sketchbook from his backpack and the crayons, the beautiful watercolour ones that he received on his last birthday from Izzy and Jace, and set them on his left side.

Raphael instructed a couple of photographers where to position the cameras and searched for Magnus again, leaving the last decision up to him. He was the best organizer but he really lacked any sense of aesthetics, which, instead, Magnus was overflowing with. The man was fixing the red berry and frosted pine cone garland on the railing of the stairs, fully concentrated on the task.

"Magnus? Have a look here," he said, "our Santa's sleigh is ready. Just waiting for your last touch.”

Magnus revolved toward the voice and stared for a moment at Alec and the setting, his gaze so intense that Alec felt the urge to divert his eyes. Magnus moved slowly toward the sleigh, bending near the footboards to fix the fake snowflakes and the pine branches.

His movements were slow and graceful, the back of his neck was flexing sinuously following the motion of his hands and fingers, and Alec couldn't keep from staring. His nails were painted in a dark green polish, matching the colour of the spikes in his faux hawk. He was elegant and extremely professional, but there was something sensual too in his overall outfit.

His eyes were stuck to Magnus' fingers that were now fixing the red velvet cloth and cushions on the sled.

"You like the color of the polish or my rings?" Magnus asked abruptly without turning his head and Alec rolled his eyes, because of course he wasn’t able to do anything without being noticed.

He didn't know what to say because, honestly, he liked them both, a lot.

Magnus must have realized his embarrassment because he resumed his talk without even looking at him.

"I picked the dark green this morning because it matches the beautiful colour of the pine needles and also because it matches perfectly with the burgundy red suit I am wearing. The rings...well, they are just a sort of second skin, I never remove them, not even when I sleep or shower."

Alec remained still and silent, lost in Magnus' voice.

"I don't bite, you know. You're allowed to answer or say something," Magnus added seriously, just before bursting into the softest laughter Alec had ever heard, "I'm just teasing you, I was joking."

Alec smiled behind the white soft beard, "Both, I like them both," he whispered.

Magnus stopped his movements and finally raised his head to look at him. He was kneeled on one leg, looking at those hazel big eyes standing out from the furry grey brows. They shined like two emerald gems.

Magnus then stood up and leaned toward Alec, grabbing his white fluffy collar and adjusting it around his neck, next his palms swept over his shoulders and tugged at the fabric a little, to make it adhere to Alec's shoulders. They were broad and straight. The last touch was reserved for his hat. He fixed the pom-pom and then his fingers curled up the mustaches above Alec's lips.

He cocked his head and took a moment to check what he had just done, "Now you're perfect, the perfect Santa. Raphael is the best at making real what I have in mind."

"Raphael knows so well what the boss likes," a voice replied.

"He's right," Magnus said to Alec smirking, "he knows me so well. Ok now. I know he already told you what this whole Santa's thing is about, but I will remind you anyway. Kids will queue here, you will take them on your lap and have a little chat, then ask them for a wish, pick up a candy, and offer them to take a picture with you. Remember the pictures are for free, it's  just for the joy of the kids, and…"

"And while they are waiting for the print I will make them a little sketch."

Magnus frowned.

"Raphael told me I could. I'll be quick, I promise."

"You draw?" Magnus asked.

"Yes."

"As long as you don't make the people wait too long, I think it's a wonderful idea. Keep the last one for me, ok?"

Magnus turned to Raphael.

"Let the kids come. We're ready for the magic to happen."

Alec's first week flew by quicker than he had imagined. He enjoyed talking to the kids and smiled at the incredible, sweet, improbable desires they shared with him. He gave them the sweets and a quick sketch; an animal, a toy, a star, a word, something he made just for them.

Raphael was amazed by how quickly Alec actually sketched. The queue was flowing regularly and no clients complained about waiting too long. Their Santa smiled and laughed with the kids and he didn't seem to become annoyed or bored.

Alec always listened with the same attention, always gave the children space and time to talk, enjoyed their sense of wonder, comforted the sad ones, knew how to deal with tantrums and tears, and never missed to give an encouraging smile to the parents waiting.

In that week, he fell asleep happily after such a long time.

Working at the mall turned out to be very exciting and interesting. Alec had always been fond of people, even if he wasn't very talkative and extroverted. He mostly loved to observe them, the quick glances between the ones in love, the farewell and welcome embraces, the arguments and the tears, the gazes lost in nowhere, the grandparents holding the hands of the kids, and of course, the kisses.

In the days he spent there, especially at the times his shift started and finished, when the mall was emptying, he loved watching Magnus interact with his employees. He was struck by how different Magnus was from his father.  

Magnus was always the first to arrive and the last one to leave, he always had a smile for everyone, he paid attention to all their needs, and always found the right words to say, supportive, encouraging, and caring. He brought coffee and sweets, he offered them lunch and then sat eating with them, laughing and having fun, and whenever he could, he would help them.

There was something in that man that had Alec yearning for his presence whenever he wasn’t around, that had him staring at him when Magnus wasn’t noticing, admiring him. He was beautiful inside and out.

"His wife must be so happy," he absentmindedly said to a cleaner one night as he was helping him pull up all the trash bags. Wei was the oldest one at the mall, and Alec had become his friend. He loved to listen to his stories and his memories, and got his fill of wisdom every day. Alec opened up to him like a father, sharing his personal life, his dreams and his sorrows. He remained with him long after his Santa’s duty was over, listened and helped along the way.

"Who?" said the man.

"Mr. Bane."

Wei stopped moving and cleaning, putting his mop on the floor, smiling at Alec.

"Magnus?"

Alec looked at the old man and smiled, hoisting up two other bags.

"Yes, Magnus."

The man looked back at him, pensively, and then talked.

"Magnus isn't married, and never has been. If you are referring to the fact that he has a child, I will tell you a story worthy of this time of the year. Tea first," and he went to the counter of the locker room and poured some in two cups, handing one to Alec.

"Three years ago, Anne, a young girl that worked at the bookstore, died unexpectedly in a car accident. She was the mother of a two-year-old boy, named Max. When Magnus heard that the social services were searching for a place for Max to stay for the night, he offered to take him home with him, and never left him since then. He applied for adoption, since he was the closest thing to family for that girl and her boy and since he was raised in foster care…"

The man looked at Alec, an unreadable expression on his face, something between awe and seriousness.

"I hope you'll have the chance to know him better, Alec. Magnus is one of the kindest souls that tread on this earth. He's caring, gentle, soft, selfless, he holds a special place in his heart for each of us. He knows all our histories, he never misses a birthday or an anniversary, he covers our shifts when we need a day off and no one can replace us. He's so incredible, that he's almost unreal."

He stood up and took the mop again, "I have noticed the way you look at him."

Alec swallowed, his cheeks getting crimson, "I… I don't…"

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, he doesn't deserve to be alone," and he bent to grab some empty bottles.

"Leave that to me," Alec said and was quickly on his knees to collect them.

"You're just as kind as he is," Wei said and threw some paper cups in the bin.

Alec remained with him, and they talked until Wei had finished cleaning.

"Your dad will understand sooner or later," he said putting his coat and scarf on.

"He might, but he'll never forgive me," Alec sighed.

"He will understand one day that there's nothing to forgive Alec, you don't have to apologize to anyone for giving voice to your true self, he will understand, believe me. Just give him time."

Alec nodded as they went outside and decided to take a walk. He looked up at the grey thick sky, thinking about Magnus.

He opened his drawing book and checked all the sketches and portraits he'd made of Magnus while he wasn't watching. It would have been really nice to know him better, but December was almost over and he did not even have the chance to present himself.

He exhaled. In another life, maybe.

On his part, Magnus realized he was always finding an excuse to go to the children's store. There was something in that Santa that drew him closer, even if he had never seen his face. The way he moved, his soft, tender voice, the way he got lost in his drawing, and the way he answered the kids. Raphael always made jokes about the fact that he should go to the locker room and have a closer look at the man, but Magnus always dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

As Christmas approached, Alec noticed that Magnus was often around and he never missed the chance to draw him on many different occasions.

“You should show him," he heard Raphael say behind his back as he peeked at the sketch Alec had just made of Magnus standing beside one of the Xmas trees of the mall, sipping from a coffee cup, absorbed in reading, his brows furrowed, his lips curled in concentration.

Alec suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him.

"Magnus loves beautiful things, and your portrait is amazing, you really should," Raphael stated as he walked away.

Alec closed his sketchbook when a loud thud tore him out of his thoughts. He rushed and found a crying kid on the floor, his knees up to his chin, a thin rivulet of blood on his wrist.

Alec knelt beside him, his voice soft and tender, "Hey, it's all right, I'm here. Can I have a look at your wrist?"

The boy raised his head and found Santa Claus kneeling beside him, asking him to have a look at his injury. He looked around confused, not really knowing what to do, until his eyes rested on another man standing behind his back.

"I'd let him if I were you, his touch might be magical."

Alec looked up and saw Magnus looking at him, gently nodding, encouraging him to go on. So he took the boy's hand and lifted his wrist to have a look at it; then he took out two small packages from his right pocket. He showed them to the kid.

"What's your name?" he asked softly.

"Tom," the boy whispered.

"Okay, Tom. Now I will wipe your wound and disinfect it, it won't burn or hurt, I promise. Then I am going to put a magical Santa patch on it, how does this sound? Will you pick up the drawing while I clean it?"

"Mr. Bane…" Alec started only to stop when Magnus stepped in.

"Magnus." Magnus corrected.

"Magnus can help you pick one, if that's all right?"

The boy smiled and nodded.

Alec passed the small box to Magnus and for a moment their eyes locked. Magnus smiled at him, wide and open, and his gaze softened as their fingers softly brushed, and Alec felt something cracking inside of him, like an egg breaking to let a new life peek through.

He made quick work of the little wound, covering it with a candy cane-shaped patch.

"Now,” he added, “since you have been really brave, why don’t you follow me to pick some candies out from my basket near the sleigh?"

"And I will go and search for your parents," Magnus added, "remain here with Santa."

Later that evening, he was putting his black coat on ready to go home when he heard someone coming.

"Who are you?" Magnus asked, looking surprised at the handsome man standing outside the locker room.

Alec turned and saw him, he seemed almost in a rush. He was about to answer, but he realized he couldn't breathe.

“You don’t look like a thief, so, care to tell me who you are?”

"I’m Santa. I mean, the guy dressed as Santa. My name is Alec," his voice came out barely a whisper.

"Pardon?" Magnus asked him, almost not believing he had heard well.

Alec swallowed as he felt those chocolate eyes scanning him from his feet to the last of his black locks.

Magnus blinked as his heart skipped a beat. Damn Raphael, he was right.

They both remained silent as the veil was raised, staring at each other as their hearts were fluttering.

Finally, Magnus extended his hand to him, "Actually I was searching just for you."

Alec grabbed his hand and squeezed it, his grip strong and certain, "Why?"

"I wanted to thank you for today. The way you acted with that boy…,"

"It was nothing...”

"You turned a bad event into an amazing one, one he will remember for all his life. Plus, you didn't have to, and you did anyway. This says a lot about the kind of person you are, and I never take such things for granted."

Alec was still holding his hand, stuck in a sort of trance. When he realized that, he retracted his palm, "I'm sorry, I need to go…, my sister is waiting for me outside…,"

Magnus nodded.

Alec adjusted the scarf around his neck and moved toward the exit.

"Ah, Alec? We are having a small Christmas party on the 24th, after the mall closes for the clients, why don't you come? It's an open party, we all bring families or partners…," he stopped, waiting for Alec to say something.

"I'd love to, yes, thank you. See you tomorrow," he left and headed to Izzy's car, his heart racing, his head a bit spinning.

Izzy needed just a glance to understand, "Are you ok?"

Alec looked at her and licked his lips, twice, "I don't really think so."

"What's wrong?"

He pressed his fingers at the corner of his eyes, exhaling, "Fuck, Izzy, I think I've fallen in love."

"And what's so terrible about it?"

Alec looked back at her, almost desperate, "He's the owner of the mall, beautiful and sexy as fuck, smart, and kind, and...what do I have to offer him?"

"Yourself, Alec. And believe me, it's not something you easily find around nowadays." She turned the engine on and drove him away.

After the last bowl of popcorn was over, Max was almost asleep against Magnus' chest.

"Dad?"

"Mm?"

"You were happy tonight when you came back from work, did something happen?"

Magnus kissed him on his head, gently, "Maybe, yes. I was thinking...We have a special Santa this year, do you want to come and make your wish?"

"You'd let me again?”

Magnus nodded and heard Max hum happily.

In that last week, Magnus found every excuse to be around Alec, and Alec always welcomed him with his bright eyes and his soft smile. The more Magnus stayed with him, the more he felt the desire to know him better. Magnus found himself thinking about which books Alec liked reading, what kind of movies did he watch, or what was the food he wanted to eat on a snowy night.

Magnus really wanted to invite him for a drink, but it was Christmas week and Max was at home with Cat the whole day, waiting for him to come home. That was what being a father was about. Putting Max first, every time, and Magnus knew not many would want a committed relationship with a lone parent.

Christmas Eve was really busy. Alec was searching for Magnus, but he never showed up. He wanted to see him one last time, since he’d decided not to show up to the party. He wanted to thank him for having made this month the best he had in years. All the customers had almost left when he spotted him at the end of the queue, holding a little boy in his arms, and chatting with him.

Max was the last kid of the day. Magnus knelt, putting him down and letting him walk toward Alec, to make his wish for this Christmas.

He knew that Max always asked for one thing, no matter if it was Christmas or if he was blowing his birthday candle, or watching a shooting star. All the others Santa had always given him silly answers, -- this is not a thing you can ask Santa, or this is a thing you should ask in your bedtime prayers, or Santa brings only toys-- , leaving Max always sad and deluded.

Why was he expecting Alec to give a different answer, he didn’t know.

As Max came closer, Alec opened his arms and pulled him up on his thighs, looking at him.

“And you are?”

“Max. Dad said you are a special Santa, so maybe you are the one who can finally help me with my wish?”

“I’ll do my best. What is it?”

"Can you bring my mum back?"

Alec felt like he had been slapped by a cold hand right on his face, as his eyes filled with tears.

He raised a hand and caressed Max’s cheek, staying silent as some seconds passed by, conscious of the other pair of eyes that were staring at him, aside from Max’s.

Alec thought carefully about the answer and then he started talking, “I wish I could, Max, but I can't. There are many things that happen in life that we can’t turn back or change, no matter how much we’d want or try to. Your mum has passed now and this means she can't come back, but there is something you can do about this. You can find her in the small things of your life, in the scents that remind you of her, in the melody she used to sing when she lulled you to sleep, in the words of a story she used to tell you at bedtime, in the way your smile probably looks like hers, and…,” he raised his gaze to look at Magnus who seemed visibly touched by his words, "... in the love your dad is giving you. In this way, it will be as if she never really left you. I know you miss her presence, her touch, and her voice, but if you close your eyes and search into your heart, you will find her there.”

Max looked intensely at the man in front of him, processing the words, serious and concentrated, then his face brightened in a sunny smile.

“Dad was right, you’re the best Santa I have ever met.” Max replied as he looked between his dad and Santa. He may not have his mom’s warm hugs anymore but Max did have his Dad’s embrace and bedtime stories. “Thank you Santa. I think you’re right.”

Alec let out a startled laugh as he held the candy basket out for Max, “Now, any other wish I can help you with?”

“Is there something you wish to have back and can’t, just like me?”  Max finally asked, picking up a candy cane.

Alec inhaled a sharp breath, “Of course there is.”

Max smiled and looked up at Alec, “Then come and spend Christmas with us, so you can tell me.”

Alec cleared his throat, “Leave a plate with cookies and a mug of hot chocolate, and I’ll see what I can do, ok?”

Then he kissed Max on his head, picked his sketchbook and drew a big comet on it. Giving it to the kid he told him, “Never stop believing Max, the best things come to us when we less expect them. Merry Christmas.”

He stood up, tearing another sheet from it, walked toward Magnus who was still kneeling and staring at him, handing him the drawing, “This is for you.”

Magnus looked at his portrait on the paper. He wanted to say something, but voices and laughters were coming from the hall of the mall, signalling that the Christmas party was about to begin.

“Magnus, Max?” they heard Raphael call.

Alec stepped back, grabbed his pencils and went to change his clothes, leaving Magnus and Max there.

He felt his heart aching at the idea of leaving without a word, but he knew that going to the party would have only meant to feel even worse when he had to say goodbye. He dressed up and before leaving he put a drawing next to the locker of each of the persons he had met and worked with, in those days.

“So you’re not coming,” he heard Wei say.

He turned, his eyes were red with unshed tears, that he wasn’t ashamed to show. “It would only be worse later. I’m already lost. I don’t want this to be out in the open, and if I ever get in there, with him, with them, I won’t be able to disguise it. Thank you for being my friend and confidant while I was here,” he told Wei as he hugged him, “Watch over him and make sure he’ll give his heart to someone worthy. Say goodbye to everyone, it’s been an honour working here.”

He patted the man on his back one more time, and then made his way out, deciding to walk home and let the snowflakes wash away the tears that were streaming down his face.

At the party, Magnus was trying to get distracted, but his mind was fixed on Alec, on the way he answered Max, and on the way the boy had seemed to want Alec in their lives.

Maybe he was the right one.

He would have asked him out, if only the man would show up, but he didn't, and Magnus had lost his hopes.

He was standing next to the bar, drinking and staring into the void.

"Drinking to celebrate or to forget?" Wei asked him.

"Neither of these, just drinking and enjoying the two days of rest we have ahead of us."

The old man hummed and took a glass himself.

"It seemed you were searching and waiting for someone who didn't come," he said, “Alec went away."

Magnus frowned and then exhaled, his voice turning sharp and bitter, "Ah yes, I call it the lone parent effect. It never fails to strike."

Wei looked at him, savouring his cocktail. The man looked to be weighing something in his mind before he spoke.

"He went away because he has feelings, and feared that these weren't reciprocated."

Magnus put down his glass on the counter.

"Who told you?"

"He did, just before leaving. And that's not the only thing I know about him."

Magnus shook his head, smiling, feeling his heart expand.

"Sit here with me and let's have a talk, Magnus."

The morning sun hit Alec right in the eyes and he cursed himself for not closing the curtains enough last night when he’d come home. He remembered feeling sad and being a bit tipsy, after stopping along the way to have a couple of beers.

He wasn't really used to drinking, so he always ended up confused and hobbling, until there was a couch or a bed to fall into.

Alec got up and stretched his arms and legs, staring at the thick snow already covering the roofs, and still falling from the pearly grey sky.

Jace and Izzy were out of reach for a couple of days, trapped in all those pompous meetings his parents always held at their place.

He put the coffee pot on the stove and took a pan, opened the fridge and looked at the watch. Nine o'clock. It was going to be a very long day.

He toasted some bread and cooked two sunny side up eggs, and put the plate on the table. He was scrolling his phone while eating, chuckling at the secret pics his siblings were sending him, before taking the still fuming cup of coffee, and going back to the couch, opening a book.

After a while he went to take a shower and then warmed some other coffee before getting dressed.

That's when he heard the doorbell ring.

He quickly put on a thorn old sweater he used at home and a pair of loose sweatpants. It must have been the old lady on the first floor, she knew he was alone.

He opened the door, threading his hand through his already ruffled hair and lost all his capacity to think and speak when he saw Magnus and Max, hand in hand, standing on the threshold of his small apartment, on that Christmas morning.

He wanted to say something, but didn't know where to start from. Magnus was looking at him, a shy smile on his face, a doubtful look in his eyes, as if he was sorry for showing up without calling him first.

Luckily Max was there too.

"So your real name is Alec?" the boy asked him.

Alec looked at Magnus, asking for silent permission, before nodding back.

"Me and dad had a talk about Santa," Max giggled, "he says that mall Santas are only interns right now. Like high ranking elves! Now I know why no one could help me, but at least, your words were honest, and we are here for a reason," and he elbowed his father on his leg.

Magnus seemed lost for a moment, trying to find the right words, then looked at Alec and said, "We were wondering if you would come and spend these two Holiday days with us. Our home is big enough and we have a spare room."

Alec looked at him and shrugged, incredulous.

"I want you to come, Santa Alec, please."

"And you?" Alec asked Magnus.

"I would love to. I would love to know you better, if you'd let me."

Alec smiled and it felt as if the sun had ripped through the clouds, even if it was still snowing, "I would love that too."

Magnus winked at him, "So that's settled. We will wait for you in the car while…"

Alec grabbed his wrist, pulling him inside.

"I'm sorry I didn't invite you in, I was… distracted. If you both don't mind the small place, I have some warm coffee and I can make you a hot chocolate Max."

As they sat on the couch, Alec warmed the coffee and prepared the chocolate.

The radio was playing in the background -- It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas --, Alec looked at Magnus intensely as he handed him the cup, and maybe, from now on, life was really beginning to look a lot like something they had been waiting for, for a long time.

[bleufrost]

Crawl Home to Her || A Ben Hanscom Series

Chapter Two: The Call

masterlist

story summary

rating: m for graphic depictions of violence, gore, and adult themes

Nothing was making any sense anymore. After the incident in the bathroom, Ali was finding it difficult to know what she could believe. Obviously her eyes were playing tricks on her, but the fresh scars on her wrists that had not been there before told a different story and pleaded the validity of what she knew she had experienced. 

The sharp ringing of her cellphone cuts through the air and startles her for what feels like the fiftieth time in the past few days. Picking it up, she looks at the screen to feel yet another sense of dread that she can't quite place the cause of. An unsaved number lit up the screen, Maine written in smaller letters directly underneath. When was the last time she had thought of Maine? Why was it causing her hands to shake and leaving her wondering whether or not she should pick up? The phone nearly comes to a stop before she quickly presses the button that answers the call. She lifts it shakily to her ear and takes a deep breath.

"Hello?" On the other end there is a quick sigh of relief before a voice responds. "Hey Ali, it's Mike. Um, Mike Hanlon from Derry." 

Ali's knees seem to go numb beneath her and she quickly finds herself losing balance. She moves to sit on the bed and swallows down the panic stirring within her. "Oh wow, hi Mike. I...really wasn't expecting to hear from you." Michael let's out another breath and the rustling of his movements echoes into the phone. "Yeah, I've heard that quite a few times recently. Ali, something's happened and I promise to explain more later but I really just need you to come meet us the day after tomorrow." 

There's a look of confusion and concern etched on her face as she processes what Mike just told her. This has to have something to do with the weird things that she was seeing; there was no way that Mike calling was a coincidence when it coincided so perfectly with everything else. Just as part of her was hesitant to pick up the call to begin with, she was also hesitant to agree to meet with him again. She knew there was no way to deny him though, not when she had all but forgotten he existed until just moments ago. 

"Ali, are you still there?" Mike sounds a little nervous, maybe even desperate. There was something else that he said that was gnawing at her though. "Mike, when you say 'us,' who are you talking about?" 

****

Walking up to the restaurant, Jade of the Orient, was possibly the most nerve wracking thing Ali had done in years. Stopping in front of the entrance, she plays with the zipper of her jacket and does what she does best; allows her anxiety to overcome her. This may have all been a huge mistake. Mike had clarified a little more about who exactly she would be seeing here, but the details and memories were all extremely fuzzy. It was as if there was a mist layered over her childhood that no matter how hard she tried to see past, it was far too thick. 

These people had not seen her in years. She had put a lot of effort into becoming someone she could look at and love; most of which was in vain, but still, there was a stark difference between who she was and who she has become. Her black glasses still framed her face and her unruly hair still blew wildly in the wind, but that was nearly as far as the similarities ended. Would they hate her for becoming someone new? Was she even someone new; or was she still the same scared little girl that allowed the opinions and eyes of others obstruct her ability to see herself the way in which she truly was? This was without a doubt a mistake and the tug of fear instantly turns from a dull pull to a sharp stab that drives her away from the restaurant; away from them. Before she can move to turn back to her car and leave, a gentle voice carries through the wind and graces her ears; acting as a beam of light that breaks apart the mist. 

"You want a lollipop?" The voice halts every movement she was making and any that she was even considering. It takes her back to a time she swore that she had forgotten about long ago, yet standing here now she wonders how she could have ever allowed it to slip away. 

****

It felt like yesterday, sitting on the steps of school and waiting patiently for Beverly to make her way out the front doors. It was the last day of the school year and Ali had decided to forego her last class, opting instead to sit outside and draw her newest interest. A boy named Ben Hanscom had recently started attending school here and Beverly had introduced him to her friend not long after she ran into him in the hall. He was extremely adorable and honestly interesting to talk to; much smarter than most of the other kids that went here anyway. He was quiet and really liked to read, something she found comfort in when all the rest of the school appeared far too loud. 

Kids started filtering out around her, and it wasn’t long before shouts could be heard in the yard. Looking up, Ali saw Henry Bowers tormenting a group of kids that she had had a few interactions with in the past. They all shared a common habit of constantly being picked on by Bowers, Greta, and the awful group that followed the two leaders around. Greta was nowhere in sight, giving Ali a chance to breathe for once, until the commotion in front of her got a little more physical and Ali felt as though it was only right to help out the group of boys who had done the same for her on a few previous occasions. 

“You have some big balls beating up on people who are smaller than you, Bowers!” Ali stood tall against the boy and his friends, staring him down as much as her smaller stature could. Henry looked back at her for a moment with shock on his face, but that lasted for only the briefest of moments before it turned into a sneer. He threw glances at his gang and erupted into laughter. 

“Oh yeah you ugly fucking bitch? I bet you would love to see my balls. Too bad that easy friend of yours is the only one who can get any action. You’d know, right? I’m sure you try all the time but no one’s willing to sleep with a fucking four eyed piece of shit like you!” The sting of tears sparks within her at his words, but she refuses to let them spill; there were few things she was not willing to do in order to ensure that Bowers was not granted the satisfaction of successfully hurting someone else. 

Straightening the glasses on her face, Ali looks back at him with a twinkle in her eye that Bill, Richie, Eddie, and Stan had all come to learn meant she was about to say something that would end the argument. “I can’t do anything about needing to wear glasses, but you can do something about that ugly ass mullet on your head. Seems to me like we’re both ugly, but you’re the dumbass that’s choosing to look like that.” Bowers’ eyes come alight with anger and Richie hollers about a murder having taken place. Bill, knowing that she won’t back down just as much as Henry will refuse to, starts to make a commotion that gets the attention of the police officers standing off to the side. Henry quickly looks behind Ali and makes eye contact with the officers, he reaches down and pulls the sketchbook out of her hand, ripping a few pages and throwing it to the floor before turning and motioning for his gang to follow behind him. 

“Thanks for the help.” Stan nods to you and the rest of the boys offer up a smile as they turn and start running off, Richie still screaming about the look on Henry’s face. Ali also smiles, but that fades quickly when Beverly comes up behind her smelling slightly like garbage and leans down to pick up the book and torn drawings. 

“Everything alright?” Ali sighs and faces Bev, shrugging and brushing off a stray piece of trash from her shoulder. “Just about alright as it usually is.” The two girls make their way back to the stairs to grab the rest of Ali’s stuff, only to find the way blocked by the new kid, Ben. 

“Is there a password or something?” Beverly smiles and laughs as Ben fumbles with his stuff nervously. It was abundantly clear that the poor kid had already fallen victim to, not only the typical pains of being new at school, but also the all too common sting of being an easy target for bullying. 

When it is clear that Beverly is messing with him, he returns the laugh. Ali giggles as well, picking up her backpack once he has moved a bit, and reaching in to find something that she hoped would make everyone’s day a little sweeter. Passing one to Beverly and then unwrapping her own, she steps forward and smiles at Ben, holding out her hand. 

“You want a lollipop?” 

****

Turning around, the face that had eluded her for years finally became clear

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a/n: i appreciate every read, like, reblog, and comment so so much! feedback is always welcome and i hope you guys are enjoying this. the next chapter will HEAVILY involve ben, i promise!!

merry christmas loves!

[purecamp]

Hi, I have a question about your mamma mia au! Is Pat dead on Here I Go Again? Because I was thinking that if she passed away before higa, Sharon and Willam would attend the funeral right? Wouldn't Sharon bring Trixie too? Wouldn't Willam go talk to her and get suspicious about Trixie? Is this me subtly asking you to write an oneshot about it just because I'm not ready to let go of this universe and also wanting you to write more Shillam? 😂

ahaha anon this tickled me tbh. first of all thanks for the love (!!!), so i’ll try to answer in parts

-unfortunately she has passed before higa because she would be 113, which is possible but... unlikely ahaha -ive been debating this since waaaay before u asked me bc its something i thought about a lot, like would sharon bring trixie or not? would she even go? lots 2 think about, decisions decisions -i would write oneshots for you in a second. plz feel free to request them at any time omg

anyway, i guess i’m gonna give it a go here! 

She was a good age, Sharon knew that. Spritely in nature right up until her last moments, Patricia Belli passed away in her retirement home at the age of ninety six.

Her letter had arrived in the post; a short and not-so-sweet note letting Sharon know that if she received this letter, then she had died, and the nursing home staff had actually honoured her request of them to send it to her. Somewhat of a doting grandma - owing to the fact that Sharon had no idea what Pat would be to Trixie if she even was related - she had attached some plastic-wrapped sweets and lollipops.

God, this was going to be difficult. On top of having to close the hotel, at least for a day whilst she attended the funeral, Sharon was going to have to explain the concept of dying to her three-year-old girl, who thought the world was nothing but sparkles and sunshine.

And that was without slotting in time for her own grief. In four years, Pat had transformed Sharon’s life, and she owed her everything.

Times like these were when Sharon wished she had a little bit of help. She needed to cry and sniff and weep into somebody, to wallow in the horrible feeling of finally being alone in the world with herself as the only adult to rely on. She needed to continue working in order to stay alive, and keep her home paid for and her daughter fed. She needed to sit down and explain to Trixie than Nana Pat was gone, and she wouldn’t be coming back. She needed someone else to bundle her up for once and tell her it was all going to be okay.

“You alright?” Maria broke her out of her thoughts, tapping her as she went past behind the bar to fetch a few more bottles of ale.

Sharon grabbed a rag and continued drying up the glasses - Maria had offered to extend the hotel into her bar, meaning Sharon now managed a hotel and taverna in one. “Yeah, just... Can’t believe she’s gone, you know? I always felt like Pat was gonna live forever.”

Maria nodded. “It will be strange, we miss her around here. She was regular for many years at this taverna. Party held here after the service, in her honour.”

“She’d like that. Everyone getting drunk for her.” She sighed, her eyes filling with tears. “I don’t want to have to tell Trix. She’s only young, after all.”

Shrugging, Maria offered a kindly smile. “Brave and strong, like her mother. Even if teeny tiny.”

Despite her heavy heart, Sharon laughed.

---

“Mama! You’re here!”

The same cheerful greeting that Sharon was met with every afternoon came at her once again, lifting her low mood a little. A flurry of pink shot towards her, Sharon noting a smudge of blue paint on her face and some scuffs on her shoes from a day of playing before she was tackled in a huge hug.

“I’m here, little pumpkin. Did you have a good day?”

“The best!” Trixie trilled. “We did painting, and running, and I played dolls with Kimmy and Pearl showed me how to draw hearts!”

Ever-suffering, her preschool teacher was stood by the door to the classroom, her gaze tired but still warm as her last student clung to her mom. It wasn’t too often that Sharon was last to pick up her little girl, but it happened enough that she knew to just sit Trixie down with some colouring and leave her to it. Today, the grief had slowed Sharon down, and she was behind on most of her maintenance.

“Sounds fun! Now, are we walking out of here or is mama carrying you all the way home?”

Trixie took a moment to think about it, before smushing her face into Sharon’s neck. “Mama carries me home.”

Sharon sighed, figuring that she needed to keep Trixie happy if she was going to deliver such bad news. “Okay, just this once. Say bye bye, now!”

“Bye bye, Miss Coulée!”

Just Sharon’s luck, the walk was roughly long enough for them to discuss the subject. She was careful not to let her own emotions influence Trixie’s too much, knowing that a sobbing little girl would be much harder to console when she herself wanted nothing more than to break down in someone’s arms. Curious and a little confused, she asked a few questions which Sharon tried her best to answer, all while avoiding the term “Heaven”. It felt like she’d done an okay job, all things considered, but the fact that she had to do it alone meant she was more than nervous. This wasn’t going to traumatise her into therapy as an adult... she hoped.

“Will she miss me?”

Fuck, this kid was tugging at every single one of Sharon’s heartstrings. It didn’t seem possible that she had been the one to give life to something so goddamn cute.

“Nana Pat? I’m sure she will miss you, baby. And we’ll miss her, too.” Sharon took a deep breath. “But she’s still with us, isn’t she? Because we remember her, and we always have our memories.”

Trixie nodded thoughtfully. She had begged and begged to sit on Sharon’s shoulders, so now she idly played with loose strands of her hair, the messy bun practically ruined from the day’s work anyway.

“But she won’t come back because she’s too old.”

The child-like ability to make the most innocent and heartbreaking of things funny was one that Sharon hoped Trixie held onto forever. Even with her own heavy sadness, she giggled slightly.

“That’s right, bubba.”

A pause. “Are you sad, mama?”

Sharon nodded infinitesimally, trying not to trigger her tears. “Lots of people will be sad. When we go to the funeral on Saturday, there will be lots of sad people wearing black who all love Nana Pat very much. Will you promise me to be a really good girl and just sit quietly with me? We don’t want to disturb anyone.”

Trixie leaned forwards, pressing her lips to the top of Sharon’s head in an awkward, well-meaning kiss. “I’ll be good.”

---

She was golden. Sharon had done all her crying in the morning, before Trixie scrambled into her bed, and she was relieved at how easily her toddler had gone along with everything. Getting herself dressed had been a breeze; she even tried brushing her own hair, which was unsuccessful but nevertheless touching. Trixie then scampered off to play whilst Sharon got ready, giving her a few more moments alone.

Smoothing down her skirt, she examined herself in the mirror. An uncomfortable possibility had dawned on her that night, as she tried to sleep, and it made her unbelievably nervous. After all, he was her great-nephew...

She didn’t look that different than the day they met, surely? But yet, staring at herself, Sharon started realizing how little she resembled that girl already. Only four years had passed, near enough, and at twenty one and a mom, there was almost nothing to anchor this version of herself to the similarly-burdened yet unrealistically carefree seventeen-year-old that Willam had known.

Her hips were wider now, one of the few permanent modifications that Trixie had given her, and for all her low income meant a reduced diet, there was still the remains of a post-baby pouch that stubbornly remained. Black dresses were slimming, Sharon reminded herself, not that the rest of her needed it, but she hoped it was enough that if Willam did see her, he wouldn’t notice anything different.

That being said, he was a man. The little things didn’t matter. The living, squirming three-year-old, however...

Sharon sighed and relaxed, not bothering to try and suck in her stomach like she had before. Willam definitely wouldn’t notice it, he’d be too busy staring at Trixie. The human that he might’ve helped her create. That she had opted not to tell him about. Even though she had an easy way to do so via his now deceased great-aunt.

Fuck.

They made their way up to the little old chapel on the island in good time. Pat knew and loved her home more than anything, so relatives had been flocking from around the world to a tiny chapel on a tiny island out in Greece. It was a difficult walk, and with every step Sharon had to face that she really was in this alone now.

Not wanting to intrude in spite of her invite, Sharon slipped into a pew at the back and bowed her head, clutching Trixie in her lap as more of a comfort than anything else. Thankfully, as more and more people filed in, Trixie seemed to sense that her mama was upset, and quietly played with her flamingo teddy.

He was one of the last to walk in, of course - he would have to make an entrance. Swaggering in, his expression mostly calm, and his sheer confidence was highly inappropriate for a funeral and god if Sharon didn’t sound like her fucking mother. He was young and hot and the swagger seemed to be a Belli thing, because no one paid him any attention. Somewhere, whether in heaven or in her coffin, Sharon knew Pat was cackling with laughter.

And, of course, he just had to speak too. Sharon lifted her head a tiny bit to watch him, trying to ensure his gaze didn’t flicker onto her.

“So many kind things have been said about my dear great aunt today, and whilst it has warmed my heart I’m here to undo it all.” Willam started, filling the room with soft laughter. “Rest in peace, Granny Pat. You were old as fuck, but we’ll miss your rottenness. She had an ego bigger than mine and a liver bigger than Dad’s, and she was the life of the party. We love you, Pat.”

Everything about him was so familiar. Sharon tried not to think about it, but her mind was flooded with him. He didn’t look different at all, but she supposed LA had treated him well. Tanned and charming as ever, he seemed to woo his family as easily as he had seduced her into bed with him... or at least, that was how Sharon chose to remember it.

This was going to be a long day.

---

In all honesty, Sharon didn’t go out much anymore. It came with the territory of being a full-time parent and hotel owner-manager-chef-bartender-maid, but she was tired almost all the time. When Raja and Jinkx came over she made exceptions, but on a day-to-day basis, once Trixie was in bed, Sharon was exhausted from exerting herself to make sure she could even be finished and home in time for Trixie’s bedtime story. So, being out in the taverna in the late evening?

Unbearable.

As soon as everyone came in, Maria offered to take Trixie and keep her entertained behind the bar - which probably wasn’t the most responsible choice Sharon had made as a mom, but she knew Maria would take good care of her as she always did, and insisted she needed to mingle.

Mingling was the last thing on her mind, but she reluctantly grabbed a drink and tried to remain casual in a room full of strangers. After all, none of them knew who she was. None of them knew what Pat meant to her, and everything the daft old woman had done for her. None of them knew that without Pat, it was likely that her beloved daughter would’ve been given up for adoption and Sharon would’ve had to return home to her mother with her tail between her legs. Pat had made it possible for her to live, and as rough as it was, it was nice to be self-sufficient at twenty one.

“Hey! I thought it was you! Hi blondie!”

Sharon clutched her glass a little tighter and turned around slowly. “Forgot my name already?”

There he was, right next to her, having made his way across the room with bright eyes and a shiny grin. LA really had treated him well.

“You’re unforgettable, Sharon, don’t play me like that.” Willam teased. “Good to see you again. I knew goodbye wouldn’t last forever.”

Sharon scowled, but it didn’t last. “Hence why I said we wouldn’t have one.”

“Good point.” He gestured to her glass. “Vodka?”

She shook her head. “Just coke.”

“Pffft. Boring. Pat would want you to have some vodka. Or gin. Or both.”

Rolling her eyes, Sharon took a sip from her decidedly non-alcoholic drink. “I have responsibilities to take care of, I can’t just get drunk.”

As she spoke, her gaze went searching through the throng of people, praying Trixie wasn’t about to run over and squeeze her legs in a damning cuddle. To her relief, she was that she was balanced on Maria’s hip, happily giggling away with her out of Willam’s eyeline.

“We’re twenty one, Shar, and you haven’t seen me forever. Live a little!” Willam encouraged. “Seriously though, it’s good to see you. I didn’t know if you would still be here or if you still saw Pat around. It’s nice to see a face that I know she’d be happy to see, too. She hated most of the people here.”

God, the past tense. Sharon tried not to well up.

“You’re the only face here I know.” She admitted, her voice thick. “I feel a bit lost, honestly. If I didn’t have work, I’d be doing shots to loosen up.”

Willam laughed at that. “Right! I’m glad you know my face, at least. Familiar face, familiar arms, familiar chest, familiar d-”

“Stop!” Sharon shrieked, giggling in spite of herself. “Your great aunt has just died and you’re talking about our teenage sex? You’re disgusting.”

He shrugged. “I’m a Belli, it runs in the family. All this nonsense about her living to a ripe old age... please. She wasn’t ripe, she was rotten. It’s why we love her so.”

Sharon chuckled appreciatively. “I’m gonna miss her.”

“Me too. She’d be glad to see us brought back together, though.”

“Yeah. Although I’m not gonna sleep with you again.”

Willam’s laugh was a little too loud, attracting some disgruntled murmurs from surrounding family members. “Welp, there goes my weekend plans.”

It was surprisingly nice, talking to Willam. As much as Sharon had been terrified that the first topic of conversation would be them, and it would inevitably lead to a confession, they fell into a fleeting friendship as easily as they had four years ago. Determined to keep things light, Sharon steered away from her work or home life as they talked, but it was still nice to catch up.

That being said, she also kinda never wanted to see him again. Nothing personal, just... for Trixie’s sake, she had closed that chapter of her life and under no circumstances would she be reopening it. Not now, not in twenty years, not ever.

“I assume you’re breaking into stardom in Hollywood, right? I’ll be seeing you on movie posters?” 

He laughed. “A star is born, baby. Keep your eyes open. And you, are you taking to the stage now you’re away from your bitch of a mom?”

Sharon shook her head. “Nah. I don’t... I don’t have time anymore. And with the girls gone, too...”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t need them. And we should sing together again sometime, too.”

At that, Sharon sighed. “There’s nothing keeping you here, Willam, not now she’s gone. We had fun, but... there’s no point holding onto that. I got over my exes, I have to keep living and so do you.”

Willam nodded. “A goodbye without a goodbye. I get it. It’s difficult, but we have to let go.”

Yeah, Sharon told herself. In more ways than one.

“It’s not a personal thing, you know I care about you as a friend-”

“I know.” Willam told her. “I care about you too. But I get it.”

He pulled her into a hug. “Needles, take care of yourself. You’re skinny, take advantage of the free food. Fall in love. Make music. Do things to make you happy. You deserve that.”

Speechless, Sharon could only nod as he held her. “I can tell you’re ready to leave, so I’ll say goodbye now. You’re a one of a kind, okay? Keep going, angel thighs.”

Pfft. The old parody nickname - trust Willam to remember that.

“Thank you, Willam.”

---

Trixie was fast asleep in Sharon’s arms. Her warm weight had settled comfortably into her as she walked home, and Sharon relished in the way her sweet daughter could fill her aching heart so perfectly. Her blonde curls were messy, just like her own were as a child, and she was completely tuckered out.

Her adorable girl had little outfits, a bedroom of her own and a roof over her head all thanks to the love and kindness of one foul-mouthed, gin-loving lady. As the sun started setting, Sharon realized she owed another Belli a lifetime of gratitude.

“Thank you, Pat.”

[connorundertale]

Purple water. How cliche. Still, Oliver wasn’t about to complain about something to drink, the session took a lot out of him. After a gulp he realised that of course this water wouldn’t taste like tap water or spring water from his world. This was Hallow water, and it had a slight after taste.

“I prefer sparkly water, myself,” the pumpkin king said. Tall, towering at least two feet above him. “Only natural, for a king such as I.”

‘Where did you learn English?’ Oliver signed. For someone so... Odd, it was even weirder that he knew English fluently, where the rest of his language sounded indescribably like hushed whispers and things he couldn’t comprehend. He had a bit of an accent, but Oliver couldn’t compare it to one he’d heard in his world. ‘And ASL, of all things?’

“English, Spanish, and Mandarin are the most spoken languages, so I’ve studied them. English was the easiest to learn so I decided to focus on sign language as well.”

He wandered off to the bathroom and then called Oliver over. Of course it was huge and full of marble floors and walls and counters... The water he was running was purple, too. Of course it was, but this only made Oliver wonder whether he was given tap water or not. To King Noir’s surprise, Oliver cupped a hand into the running water and sipped it. Like some kind of animal. He couldn’t even find the words! Though, Oliver determined that he was not, in fact, given tap water. This water had a slightly more metallic taste, but was still very very slightly sweet.

“Is... This something you usually do when people draw you a bath...?” the king asked, looking incredulous yet his carved pumpkin face remaining static.

King Noir was the first person to draw Oliver a bath, but he’d be damned to admit it.

Oliver just pointed to the glass of water, then the bath water.

“Ah. No. We have a spring water here. I’m sure you’re impressed.”

Well then. Oliver didn’t say anything, just watched as the king grabbed a glass bottle full of something shimmery red and poured it into the tub. Gross. The water was turning a murky black, but was filling with bubbles and the bathroom itself smelled like apples. He set the bottle back on the counter.

“I like that one,” King Noir said. “Well, get in.”

‘You’re not getting in?’ The bath was huge, certainly made for people big and tall like the people in Hallow (or the pumpkin heads, at least, he couldn’t imagine a skeleton having a good time here). How deep was this, 3 feet?

“Do you not want a bath? After all, you’re filthy now.” his voice was tight now and he was certainly not happy with Oliver’s stupid questions. “I’ve been taught how to properly groom Lillin wings, tail and horns.” A miffed pause. “I’ve already made the bath.”

The first step in felt pretty cold. Put the deeper he put his foot in, then the rest of his body, it started feeling like he was wrapped in an apple scented electric blanket. And upon actually getting in the tub, this thing looked the size of a hot tub. Ooh, and there went the jets.

“It’s nice, isn’t it? You get all of this and more when you’re amazing like I am,” Noir was getting a shower puff (was it his personal one? They *had* shower puffs here? The puff was the size of Oliver’s head!) and some soap. “I know showers are much cleaner, but the soap cleanses you and fizzles the dirt away as soon as it touches you. Pretty neat, right?” He seemed extremely proud. Oliver nodded, just trying to figure out how this was going to go. Was he going to be trapped here? Was the bath a distraction? Was he going to make Oliver sign some kind of contract? Was he one of those affection starved types? Was he going to be killed?

But, damn it if their session wasn’t amazing. He’d never tasted such amazing and filling love since he’d made this incubus deal. Plus he was so huge he had to drink a potion just so he could walk normally again. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt a light crush on someone who summoned him, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last time, but this guy...

Was it because he was a king or something? Or was it how tenderly he was cleaning his wings? Was it the fact that he drew him a bath? Or was it that he was a king?? No, he’d had love from other kings before. Maybe it was the fact that the kingdom he ruled was literally something out of a halloween claymation movie.

Would he show up if he was summoned again by any chance?

“Oliver, you seemed to love my Love,” Noir’s gravelly and wicked voiced pulled him from this thoughts. “I certainly don’t blame you. How full do you think that will keep you?”

‘A month,’ Oliver signed.

“A month? Well... Do you like it enough to see me once a month?”

Oliver narrowed his eyes. ‘What’s your motive?’

“Your world is filled with candy and lollipops. Something even I and all my connections have a hard time getting. I have a big bag that I’d like full of candies. And in return, I’ll give you another month’s worth of my love. What do you say?”

‘You want me to trick or treat for your cum?’

“Is that not what I said?”

‘Is that why you were bathing me?’

“No. I just hated to have someone so dirty at the time in my room. Does your hair need to be washed?”

There was something the king was’t telling him. He could feel it. But for now... there was nothing malicious about him, other than the arrogance that most royalty had.

‘Next month is the test run.’

“Wonderful, Oliver. Tell me, what’s needed for your specific summoning circle?”

‘Any sized pumpkin, a snow globe, something warm, a baseball card and something red.’

Noir was tense. “Red?” there was a thoughtful pause. “What type of red? Like...” Oliver had no idea why he didn’t just pick the soap bottle up, but instead showed his green shower puff.

Ohh, he must be colorblind. Or joking, but he seemed very upset to be asked about color at all.

Oliver showed him the bottle.

“Will this work?”

‘An apple or even a red sock will work. I don’t know about this...’ If he was red-green colorblind then he’d have to find something he was sure would work. ‘Are you colorblind?’

Noir tilted his head, but his other hand was holding the bottle so tight it looked like it might break.

“How dare you ask me something like that. I’m a king, you know. I have perfect genes and will not be talked down to by an incubus of all things. Especially a human incubus!”

What the fuck was this guy on? Well, he noticed how pissed off Oliver looked and set the soap down.

“I’m not stupid. I can see just fine.”

‘Then what color is my hair?’

“Blue.”

Oh.

‘My eyes?’

“Purple. Your skin is a lovely peach color and your fingernails... they’re painted... Black.” he surmised proudly.

‘Drain the tub, I’ll get you something red from one of my outfits.’

And so Oliver gave King Noir a simple, thin red bracelet.

[idonthavehusbandsihavelovers]

Game Changer

Paring – Negan / Ruby (OC) part 2

Part 1 - https://averymerryspnxmas.tumblr.com/post/155253282946/negans-candy-cane

Summary –

Negan accepted a challenge off Ruby that she knew he wasn’t going to win but its fun watching him try.

Author Note - I want to give a huge thank you to one of the most amazing writers on here @justfangstvdto-mia also @justfangstvdto (If you have not read her stuff yet I suggest you do) for proofreading and making my story sound 100 time better your the best 

Warning – the three S’s Smut, Swearing and sexual content

 “What is that?”

I looked up from braiding Loz’s hair to see what she was talking about. “Oh it Negan’s and mine score board for our challenges. As you can see I’m in the lead by two.”

Loz laughed “I swear to fucking god you two are giant kids.”

“It´s what make us happy and keeps this weird life we have found ourselves in interesting.” I shrug.

She simply shook her head and turned around on my bed, facing me with a suspicious look on her face.

“What is it this time?”

I give her my most innocent smile “What makes you think we got one going on.”

Loz give me her best dead serious look “Rub don’t fucking lie to me you been giddy for the last week and Negan has been acting like a bigger dick then he already is I swear he almost introduced Fat Joey to Lucille, so what the fuck is the challenge this time.”

I couldn’t help but laugh a little “I’m sorry Loz but it’s his own fault. If he’d just said yes when I first asked he wouldn’t be in this predicament”

Loz smiled at me, oh the joys of being friends with her since you were four “you put a sex ban on our leader didn’t you?”

“Not quite. The challenge is who will cave in first and say “let’s just fuck already.”  

She shook her head, still smiling “Might I ask why?”

“It’s stupid really.”

Last week

“Come on Negan please I don’t see why not”

Negan raised an eyebrow “No Red, it´s not safe and I want you safe. That’s fucking final.”

He can be so fucking stubborn sometimes.

“Negan I can take care of myself and it’s not like I ask to go on a run with a guy in the middle of nowhere. I’m asking to go to another settlement. We got Hilltop or the Kingdom?”

He rubs his eye in annoyance “For fuck sake, Red”

Before he can decline again, I sit down next him and put my hand on top of his.

“How about one of our challenges then”

Negan turned and smiled. “I fucking hate you sometimes, you know? I fucking can’t say no to our fucking challenges even though most the time I’m the one fucking losing out. Alright you got me, what is it?”

I smiled

“ok no sex” Negan looked pissed and ready to say no straight away

“Hear me out before you answer ok? So no sex and that means whoever caves first and says “let’s just fuck already” wins?”

Negan closed his eye, breathed out then looked at me.

“So, if you win I have to take your ass out on a run with me” I nodded.

“What do I get if I win?”, Negan asked and tipped his head to the side.

Now I was nervous. I knew what he wanted. He has wanted it since we started our little fling but am I really willing to risk it just to go on the run? What hell, I was certain I was going to win anyway.

“If you win I will officially become one of your wives”

His trademark grin appeared on his face he grabbed my chin and pulled me in for a kiss.

“Well my Red, game on.”

“Game on.” I smiled and kissed him back

Back to today

Loz laughed her ass off after I finished my story. Typical.

“He honestly thought you were going to cave in first? No wonder he´s pissed.” She said and wiped a tear from her eye.

I nodded

“Yeah and he´s more pissed now because of the new group he dealt with a few days ago, so I think he´s almost exploding.”

Loz looked up at me with her “I’ve got an idea-”smile, which usually ends up in trouble, so it was my turn to be suspicious.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

Loz just smiled at me got off my bed and went over to her desk and pulled something out of the drawer.

“I got something that will make sure you win, which means Negan gets what he needs and we all get a happy boss back who isn’t ready to kill us at a drop of the hat.”

“Then do tell, what is this magic solution of yours?”

Loz turned the thing she was hiding around so I could see it. Now it was mine turn to smile.

“Is that “Rock Crystal Candy Stick”? Where the hell did you find one of them?”

“On one of the recent runs. I’ve got a few  of ´em. I was saving them for a special occasions, but seeing you, my best friend, in need I don’t mind giving you one.” Loz shrugged.

My smile grew even wider.

“Are you suggesting I try the lollipop trick on Negan?” I wondered, “Loz. he’s not a teenage boy”

Loz rolled her eyes at me “Rub’s he’s a man. That trick will work no matter what age”

I got up, took the candy off her and smiled.

“Hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow.” she laughed “Go get him girl!”

10 minutes later

I was now outside Negan door, I took a deep breath, knocked and was welcomed with “I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD, I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU, WHAT PART OF LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE DON’T YOU FUCKERS UNDERSTAND”

Negan opened the door and saw me.

“Ok I come back later then” I turned to walk away but Negan was quicker and grabbed me around the waist and pulled me into his chest.

“I always have time for you, Red” I turn around, put my arms around his neck and give him a quick kiss.

“That´s good to know. I heard you were stress out, so I thought I could keep you company”

He raised an eyebrow “Does this mean…?”

“No Negan, I’m not caving in. I just miss you.”

He rolled his eyes “Of course you did. Well, come in, Red. I have work to do, so pick a book and take a fucking seat.”

I followed him and sat down on one of his leather couches after I picked a book from his shelve. I opened the book and started reading.

After about five minutes of silence I pulled out lollipop and put it in my mouth slowing sucking on it, pushing back and forth in and out of my mouth.

I could feel Negan eyes on me burning a hole in to my head.  I carried on ignoring him, pretending to read my book and enjoying the lollipop. I twirling my tongue around it, pulling it out so it make a plop noise. I moaned a little to show him I was enjoying every minute of it, knowing full well he was about to snap in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

“You’re a fucking cheat” I finally looked up at Negan and the look in his eye was enough to make me wet. You could tell his brain and his well, other brain where having an fight and brain was losing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” I give him my most innocent smile.

“Right” He let out a big laugh.

He slowly stood up and he looked like a wolf ready to attack its prey

“Of course you fucking don’t, Red”

Next thing I know he has picked me up, threw me on the bed in second and was on top of me removing his clothes and tugging at mine, kissing and biting my neck.

“Negan if you do this, you lose our game”

“I don’t fucking care right now, I’m not thinkin´ with my fucking brain right now, Red. It´s been a week since I’ve had my dick in anyone, I have to deal with fucking idiots all day and you fucking come in, sucking on that lollipop like it was my dick so.”

He went back to biting on my neck.

“I plan to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week” I laugh as I snake my arms around his neck. He shuffled around on his boxers and tugs them off, his erection springing free. He wasted no time and slammed into me in one fluid motion.

“So fucking tight, Red”

I moaned my response “Negan please” I felt Negan smile against my neck “don’t worry Red”

He went back to sucking on my neck, while pulling me closer allowing me to wrap my leg around him. He moved in and out of me with ease.

After what seem like an eternity he started to speed up, moving faster and harder with every stroke. I clawed at his back when he pulled all the way out and slammed right back in, hitting my G-spot  

“Negan” my moans got louder with every further stroke.

“You like I rough, don’t you Red?”

I just nodded moaning louder. I felt his hand around my throat, moving my face to look at him. “Open your eyes and look at me Red. I want you fucking looking at me when I make you cum” I obeyed and I opened my eyes to look at him. Seeing the hunger in his eyes lets me come undone. I felt myself clench around him, then shuddered and closed my eyes as I rode out my orgasm.

“Fuck Red” Negan groans, following right after.

We laid there for a while with Negan still inside me trying to catch our breaths. After a few minutes he pulled out of me and I groaned at the loss of him, but was too tired to voice my displeasure. He pulled me closer so my head was on his chest.

“I fucking can’t believe I lost. Just sayin´, we are never doing that fucking challenge again. I didn’t enjoy a week without a good fuck”

I just laughed. “Agreed but right now I need sleep” I heard a deep chuckle and I look up to see him smiling at me

“Did I wear you out after one round, Red?”

I smile and I lift my hand to stroke his cheek.

“Yes Negan. You’re that amazing, you knocked out after one go”

He laughs, grabs my wrist and kisses my hand “

Damn fucking right I am. Now let us get some shut-eye”

I snuggle closer into him and fall into a complete blissfully sleep.

Two day later

“Negan stop pouting. I won, you promised”

“Yeah after you fucking cheated”

“Negan” I turned to look at the giant child beside me. I won our game so he had to keep his promise. So right now we’re on our way to one of his new settlements a place called Alexandra that they took over a few days ago.

Negan stopped the truck and turned to look at me

“Ok, you remember the rules?”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes “Yes Negan I remember that I have stay near Loz and don’t draw any attention to myself and if I do get into some trouble I yell for you”

He nodded. “Right and next time less of that attitude” he smiled leaned over, give me a quick kiss. “Let the show begin” I laughed getting out the truck. Maybe Loz was right he is a giant child.

Negan walked off to knock on the gates while I moved to the front of the truck and Loz came to sit next to me.

“What do you know about these people?” I ask turning to look at her.

“I wasn’t with them when they confronted these lot so I really couldn’t tell you but apparently Negan really enjoy messing with their leader.” she shrugged.

I nodded and turned to look at Negan. My heart skipped a beat at who I saw him talking to. Someone who I thought I would see again in this life.

A life advise my mum always use to tell me suddenly comes to my mind: “Ruby always be careful, ´cause when life is going good, someone or something is always around the corner to throw a curve ball at you”

I felt Loz grab my hand, so she must see him too.

“Rub’s is that..?”

I nodded and let out a breath I didn’t realise I had been holding.

“Rick”

I hope you guys enjoyed it now if will excuse me while I go be sick and have a lay down from and for my anxiety 

tagging a few people who liked the part 1 - @fangirlindenial , @opheliadawnwalker3 , @strangersangel9 , @negans-dirty-girl , @ohmyneganimagination-twd 

( and @zoesmama2024 , @fuck-yeah-lets-do-negan-ff cause I would also like to know what you think as well as everyone else) 

[lil-melody-moon]

revenge... 1 to 99, added extra question: Why do you love Yuri so much?

1. What is you middle//full name?          My middle name is Ewelina. I know, very original considering that my first name is Karolina

2. How old are you? 18 and still acting like child

3. What is your birthday? 22th of July. Best month of the year X3

4. What is your zodiac sign? Cancer ^^

5. What is your favorite color? Purple! And blue as well… Maybe pink too…

6. What’s your lucky number? 4 and 9

7. Do you have any pets? Yes an 11 years old dog. Though he acts like he would be 5 years old and he’s an ass. But a lovely ass

8. Where are you from? Poland

9. How tall are you? Around 166cm

10. What shoe size are you? In European measures 39 or 40, depends

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? Umn… 4 maybe?

12. What was your last dream about? Ugh, that was a weird one. I have a small crush on one of my classmates. He can be really charming sometimes and my brain apparently thought that it is a good idea to dream about a moment when he actually is kissing me in classroom. Though the strange part was that his behavior was actually Yuuri’s behavior. So a nice combination, but… My classmate isn’t that charming as Yuuri sadly. So dream stays a dream.

13. What talents do you have? Pissing off people around me, get attached to fictional characters to the point that I am caring and am worried about them like for real people, learning languages, liking hard languages, coming up with ideas for one-shots or drawing from thin air, being very grumpy sometimes… And being a no life for the most part of my free time

14. Are you psychic in any way? My intuition is usually right, and the annoying voice in the back of my head too… It is very annoying!

15. Favorite song? Just like mentioned before “Leave Out All The Rest” by Linkin Park

16. Favorite movie? "101 Dalmatians 2: Patch’s London Adventure" and this won’t change

17. Who would be your ideal partner? Considering the fact that I like well… The not so normal people… A grumpy and sometimes funny and with an edgy character boy would be good ^u^

18. Do you want children? If possible then yes, why not?

19. Do you want a church wedding? Nah

20. Are you religious?  Nah

21. Have you ever been to the hospital? Yeah, a few visits in there because of my family… I hate hospitals

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? Nope, I am an angel fake smile, *hides the huge smirk crawling up my innocent face*

23. Have you ever met any celebrities? Nope

24. Baths or showers? Showers definitely.

25. What color socks are you wearing? Fluffy blue ones. My grandma bought them for me ;u;

26. Have you ever been famous? Right now in my high school class. I am famous for the person with sharp tongue. Really, I can be such an asshole to some people…

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? Nope, I want to stay as I am. On the side, doing my own stuff without a care for the outside world.

28. What type of music do you like? Heavy metal, Neue Deutsche Härte, Nu metal, Orchiestral music, Japanese music, games soundtracks

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? No

30. How many pillows do you sleep with? One fluffy one. I love fluffy things X3

31. What position do you usually sleep in? On the right side, curled into a ball

32. How big is your house? Little flat with kitchen, bathroom and two rooms

33. What do you typically have for breakfast? Eggs! I love eggs :3

34. Have you ever fired a gun? No

35. Have you ever tried archery? No, but it seems to be a lot of fun

36. Favorite clean word? Comfy

37. Favorite swear word? Fuck, but I like to use my native language meaning for this word. It sounds better

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? You do not want to be near me without something to defend yourself if I don’t sleep more than 3 hours

39. Do you have any scars? Nope

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? No, I am not that beautiful… And probably my charisma is way too original for normal people

41. Are you a good liar? Yes, a very good one!

42. Are you a good judge of character? Yes, I am usually observing someone for a long time before I am showing my true self. I don’t trust anyone, besides my friends.

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? Yes, English and a bit of German

44. Do you have a strong accent? Let’s be honest, Polish doesn’t have a very strong accent. If it comes to English than yes, I do have strong one. And about German accent… Still working on it :3

45. What is your favorite accent? Without a doubt, German

46. What is your personality type? Dunno, didn’t do that test

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? I don’t know

48. Can you curl your tongue? Yeah

49. Are you an innie or an outie? Innie

50. Left or right handed? Right handed

51. Are you scared of spiders? No that much. Just little thingies walking on their small 8 legs ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

52. Favorite food? *scratches my head*  Chicken soup with self made noodles

53. Favorite foreign food? Pizza or Spaghetti

54. Are you a clean or messy person? Clean, I hate mess

55. Most used phrased? Dunno

56. Most used word? Just

57. How long does it take for you to get ready? In the morning before school? An hour

58. Do you have much of an ego? Sometimes *sweats*

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? Suck

60. Do you talk to yourself?  A lot. And then my mom thinks that I am talking to her

61. Do you sing to yourself? Yes, it helps to concentrate on things

62. Are you a good singer? Dunno, ask my dog Dog: Woof!

63. Biggest Fear? Being left alone

64. Are you a gossip? No

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen? I am not watching movies, though I came up with very dramatic au for my oc x canon character. Not gonna tell because smart me is too shy

66. Do you like long or short hair? Long or middle. They are fun to draw

67. Can you name all 50 states of America? No. I have problems with Polish map and you want me to know states of America?

68. Favorite school subject? German all the way!

69. Extrovert or Introvert? Introvert

70. Have you ever been scuba diving? Yes, once or twice

71. What makes you nervous? Talking out loud in front of people who I don’t know. Getting involved into situation where a lot of people needs to get their voice about something

72. Are you scared of the dark? No, dark is nice and calm.

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? Yes because I just have the urge to do so

74. Are you ticklish? *hides my legs*  Not at all ^^

75. Have you ever started a rumor? I am not that kind of asshole

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? I think not

77. Have you ever drank underage? I hate alcohol so nope

78. Have you ever done drugs? Look at the answer above

79. Who was your first real crush? Fuck real crushes, let’s go to fictional characters. This asshole *points at Bakura*

80. How many piercings do you have? Only on ears but I am not wearing any earrings

81. Can you roll your Rs?“ No

82. How fast can you type? Fast

83. How fast can you run? Not so fast

84. What color is your hair? Brown

85. What color is your eyes? Hazel. From light blue to light green or green, to gray blue.

86. What are you allergic to? To people who have tendency to piss me off

87. Do you keep a journal? No, but if we are counting the many one-shots I wrote to keep my ideas in one place then yes

88. What do your parents do? They are old, they are relaxing

89. Do you like your age? Kinda. I would rather be older though. Be after collage and such, have work already and have my own flat

90. What makes you angry? Oh God… People who thinks they are better for whatever reason, people who thinks that it is bad to have something original in yourself, people who wants to outsmart you just because they want to dump their shit on you, people who gossips behind your back, people who… *a few hours later*  And finally people who are just sexists.

91. Do you like your own name? Yes, I do. Long names are cute

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? Fuck, Dalia do not laugh, don’t you even dare… I like the name Jörgen and if my plans go as planned then maybe I will have the opportunity to give it to my child. Maybe… Ah, dreams…

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? Neither will be good

94. What are you strengths? Hiding my true self before others, being able to cut myself off from society for most of the time, being creative

95. What are your weaknesses? Choosing favorite characters - they are dying or are suffering or are treated badly by the writers and fandom, plushies, heavy metal music - especially Rammstein and Metallica

96. How did you get your name? My mom overheard name “Karolina” on one of the parties when she was younger and she liked it so she thought of giving me that name

97. Were your ancestors royalty? From Polish side yes, but only from my dad’s side and from German side? Ich weiß es nicht ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

98. Color of your room? Purple and green. And I want it to stay like that

99. Color of your bedspread? Purple and blue for now

Your extra question: Why do you love Yuri so much?Oh… Oh God *blushes* Well…It is not only because @amiiera pulled me back into Arc V and made me make oc for Yuuri, but… He’s not only handsome and cute and adorable. His voice is perfect, like a melody for me, his behavior is charming as well and his smirks really can make me fell really weak and squeak more than I was squeaking while seeing Vector, but the thing is, I can relate to him very much. The thing about being alone, without family, without friends. I went through hell in Primary school. I was without anyone who could shake me and woke me up from this nightmare. @true-lab were - and I really hope so that they still are - my only friend at that time, but even though, I still felt alone. Now to the parents stuff… When I was younger my dad drank a lot and I don’t have very happy memories from that time. I was always closing myself in fictional world, trying to not listen to my dad or ignore him completely so yeah, childhood almost without parents is checked as well.Now to other point why I like him so much. The way writers treat him and the way fandom treats him is just awful. Not only Arc V writers are really bad, but fandom doesn’t see that abusive relationships are bad and they are - in my opinion - shipping Yuuri with the worst characters they can. And I kinda want to protect him from everything. I just… Want to make him happy even if I had to make whole new au for him and my oc. I just want to see him happy for once. He deserves it, and I don’t care what other people thinks about him. 

[anavoliselenu]

Realise me chapter 20

This is a man who knows what he wants and goes after it.

He wants me, I think. And I feel a sharp stab of something that can only be pride.

“You’re early.” He doesn’t turn to speak to me. I don’t ask how he knows I’m there. I’ve felt the hum of energy between us, too. I don’t need to see him to know when Justin Stark is nearby.

“How could I resist an extra minute with you?”

He turns to face me. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He smiles, but I can see now that the tension in his shoulders is across his whole body.

“Justin? What’s wrong?”

“Lawyers and assholes,” he says, then shakes his head. “Sorry. It’s been one of those days.”

“Should I go?”

“Never.” He holds out a hand and I go to him. He pulls me against him and I feel his cock harden against my thigh. “Selena.” He sighs, his lips in my hair.

I start to tilt my head up, longing for his kiss, but the sharp ring of his phone interrupts and he gently pushes me away.

“I’ve been expecting that,” he says by way of apology as he grabs the phone off a table. “Is it done?” he demands. “Good. Yes, I understand that, but I also understand that I pay you for advice. The ultimate decisions are mine. Yes, I do. Twelve-point-six? Fuck it, I would have paid more, and you goddamn well know it. I’m damn sure it was the right call; she’s not getting dragged into this mess. No—no, it’s done. I’m not interested in reevaluating the decision. I made my play, we’re running with it.”

There is a long pause, then, “Shit, Charles, that isn’t what I want to hear. Well, then why the fuck do I pay you?”

So he’s talking to Charles Maynard. I realize I’m being nosy, but I pay more attention, trying to discern meaning from a one-sided conversation. It isn’t easy.

“Right, right. Did your PI locate the man I’m interested in? Oh, really? Well, that’s a bit of good news. I’ll deal with it first thing tomorrow.”

I have no idea what he’s talking about. I shift the conversation to the back of my mind and only half listen. Especially since the call seems to go on forever.

“What about London? She’s settled again? No, it can’t be helped. I’ll fly over next week. What? Well, she’s not leaving me much choice.”

He sighs and paces. “And the San Diego problem? I want someone on that. What? Are you fucking kidding me? Shit, how did they dig that up?”

I pick up Justin’s discarded clothes, intending to hang them up for him. But I’m overcome with a devilish little urge, and I give in to it, then tug the slacks over my hips and slip my arms into Justin’s sleeves. There’s something wonderfully sensual about being clad in Justin’s clothes, even if I am technically breaking the rules with the pants.

I’m so preoccupied with the shirt’s buttons that I don’t even realize the call has ended. More than that, I don’t notice Justin’s raw temper until I hear the sharp smash of plastic and glass colliding with the stonework above the fireplace.

He’s thrown his cell phone.

“Justin?” I hurry to him. “Are you okay?”

He looks me up and down, but I’m not sure he’s seeing the clothes. Not sure he’s hearing anything but the conversation that he must be replaying over and over again in his mind.

“Justin?”

“No,” he snaps. “I’m not okay. Are you—oh, God, Selena.”

“Me? I’m fine. I’m—” He shuts me off with a kiss, hard and brutal. Our teeth clack together, and he twists his fingers in my hair to hold my head in place while he assaults my mouth with such force I’m certain my lips will bruise.

He moves us backward, then throws me down on the bed, his hands going to the waistband of the pants. They are loose on me, and he tugs them down, but not off, so they remain on my calves and ankles, like strange ropes binding my legs in place.

He scoots me back and roughly spreads my knees, and I’m wet, so damn wet as he moves to straddle me. Before I know it, he thrusts his cock deep inside me. He pumps, hard and fast and brutal. I watch his face. The face of a man fighting a battle. The face of a man who will keep fighting until he wins.

I reach for him, but some instinct has me dropping my hands. Justin needs this—he needs to take me. To truly take me.

And in so many ways, I need to be taken.

He releases a long, slow groan, and I feel it as his orgasm shudders through him. He collapses on me, but only for a moment. Then he pulls himself up and looks at me, and I see pain sharpen his eyes.

“Shit.” His curse is little more than a whisper. He pulls out of me, then starts to leave the room. He pauses by the fireplace and turns back to me, his mouth open as if to speak, his eyes full of regret. I wait for the words, but they don’t come.

After a moment, he walks away.

I kick the pants off so that I can move properly, grab the sheet and curl up in it, trying to decide what to do. I have no idea what that was about, but it’s clear enough that it originated with that phone call. And even though he seems to want to be alone now, I don’t think I’m going with that plan. Tonight, he’s damaged. And if I can’t fix him, I want to at least hold him.

I strip off the rest of his clothes and pull on my red silk robe, which is where it always is before a session, draped across a stool by Blaine’s easel.

Barefoot, I go in search of Justin.

The task is harder than it sounds. The house is the size of a small country, and in the unfinished areas, sounds echo strangely, and it’s difficult to tell where to go.

I hear a strange, rhythmic thump, and finally manage to follow it down to the first floor. I find Justin in a huge, unfinished room. It has a treadmill, a basic floor mat, and a punching bag.

It’s the sound of his fists pummeling the bag that has led me here.

“Hey,” I say. “You okay?”

He throws one last punch and then turns to look at me. He’s put on a pair of briefs, but he didn’t bother with boxing gloves. His knuckles are raw and bleeding.

“Oh, baby,” I say. I look around and see a towel and a water bottle in a plastic crate, along with the gloves he should be wearing. I dampen the cloth and then return to him. “This might sting a little.”

“Dammit, Selena.” He pulls his hand away from me and cups my face. The dark wildness that was in his eyes earlier has vanished. Whatever demon he was battling, I think it’s been laid to rest. Or at least admitted to ICU. “Are you okay?”

“Of course.” I take his hand back and gently tend to his battered knuckles. “You’re the one I’m worried about.”

“I hurt you.” There’s such pain in his voice that I think my heart’s going to break.

“No,” I say. “You didn’t. You needed me. I want you to need me.” I smile up at him, trying to be a bit lighthearted. “And I think we’ve established I can handle a little pain.”

From his expression, it’s clear he doesn’t appreciate my levity.

“Not like that,” he says.

“Why not?”

“Dammit, Selena, I told you I’d never hurt you.”

I shrug, tilting my head sideways to look at him. “You spanked me. Hell, you whipped me.”

“That turned you on. It was a game. And I did it because I was hot for you and because you got off on it, too.”

I’m biting my lip. What he says is absolutely true.

“But what I did just now—” He turns away from me and jabs out two quick punches, pummeling the air. “Goddammit. I was pissed off about something and I fucked you in anger, and I don’t do that.”

I go to his side, determined to get through to him. “Justin, I’m okay. I don’t know what all of that was about, but I do know that you were upset. You came to me. I wanted you to come to me.”

“I used you.”

“Yes.” I want to scream the word. “And I don’t care. God, Justin, you’re not some stranger off the street. You’re the man I—” But I can’t go there. “You’re the man who’s heard all of my secrets. Who’s been in my bed and in my head. That’s what makes it different. Don’t you see that? You can have me however you need me. You can tell me your secrets and it won’t change a thing.”

He looks at me. “Won’t it? I wonder.”

His voice is far away, but seems to hold a challenge. I stand there, unsure of what to say.

“I’m going to call Edward to take you home,” he finally says.

I find my voice. “No.”

“Dammit, Selena.”

“I said no.” I move closer to him. “You didn’t hurt me.” I rise onto my tiptoes so I can whisper in his ear. “I was wet for you, and you damn well know it. So there’s no way you can say that you forced me.” I hold his arm with one hand to steady myself, but with the other I slowly trace my way over his chest and lower abs until my finger finds the waistband of his briefs.

“No,” he says, but I can hear the quickening of his heartbeat, the tightening of his body in anticipation.

“No doesn’t always mean no,” I say. I ease myself down onto my knees, thankful for the gym mat below me. His cock is straining against the briefs. I find the fly, then tug it out.

“Selena …”

“I’m going to take care of you.” I run my tongue down the length of his cock, so hard and velvety. I taste salt. I taste me. And I want to take him all the way in. “Sunset,” I say. “It can be your safeword, too.”

Before he can say it, though, I rim the head of his cock with my tongue, teasing it as if it were a very large, very decadent lollipop. He gets harder and harder, and when I’m certain that I’ve brought him close to the breaking point, I draw him in, stroking and sucking and getting myself even hotter in the process.

I can feel the change in his body and I know that he’s close, but then he shifts position, pulling out of my mouth and then drawing me up until I’m pressed hard against him. He kisses me, this time softly and sweetly, then eases us both down to the mat.

I open my mouth to speak, but he presses a finger to my lips. “Shhh. No talking.”

He unties my robe and leaves it open, laid out beneath us as he climbs on top of me. I spread my legs and draw my knees up, and then close my eyes in pleasure as he thrusts inside me.

He moves in a slow rhythm, the complete opposite of the way he fucked me upstairs. This is making love, and his eyes never leave mine. He takes my hand and slides it between our bodies, and his silent command is easy enough to understand. I’m so aroused my body tingles all over, but I stroke my clit, getting hotter and hotter, my rhythm matching his thrusts until, finally, he explodes, and I do, too, just moments after.

Spent, he lays beside me, sharing the silkiness of my robe.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his fingers tracing a lazy path on my shoulder. “And I’m so angry.”

“At me?”

“No. At me.”

“But why? I thought we already established that what happened upstairs was okay.”

He looks at me, his eyes hot with need. “Because now that I have you, I can’t stand the thought of ever losing you.”

27

Despite the drama, the evening takes a right turn toward normal. Blaine comes and I pose and he paints and Justin sits quietly in a chair and watches for four solid hours. After that we sit and drink wine and watch the moon on the ocean. Justin offers to let Blaine crash on the mat in the gym, and so we repeat the entire thing bright and early the next morning, finally wrapping at nine when Justin heads out for his office.

When I get home around ten, I find Jamie’s note that she’s gone to an audition. I cross my fingers for her and settle in for a lazy morning. Justin’s in meetings until lunchtime, and though I’d rather be snuggled in his bed, I’m also happy to veg with the television, the newspaper, and Lady Meow-Meow.

I make a pot of coffee, tune the television to a classic movie station, and debate whether or not I should do a load of laundry today.

My Man Godfrey is just about to start, and since that’s one of my favorite screwball comedies, I decide that laundry can wait.

The opening credits are still rolling when the phone rings. I see that it’s Ollie and snatch it up.

“Can you do lunch?” he asks. “Early, because I have a one o’clock meeting. Like maybe eleven? You could come here? I’ll have my secretary order us sandwiches.”

“Um, sure. Why the sudden urge?”

“I just want to see you. Does there have to be a reason?”

There doesn’t have to be, but of course I know there is. And I’m afraid it’s about Courtney. Or worse—about Jamie. I assure him that I’ll be there, then set the DVR to record the movie. No time to watch the whole thing now.

When I arrive in Ollie’s office just shy of an hour later, the receptionist is expecting me. She leads me to a conference room where Ollie has spread out sodas and Subway sandwiches. Not exactly high class, but it’ll do.

He’s not there yet, so I sip my Diet Coke and open my bag of chips, all the while reminding myself that I need to be supportive. Lecturing him about how he screwed up won’t do anyone any good at this point.

“Hey,” he says, pushing into the conference room with a stack of files.

“Please tell me those aren’t for me.”

For a moment he looks confused, then his face clears. “No, no. These are for my meeting. Sorry. It’s been a crazy couple of days.”

“So what’s going on?” I ask. It must be serious if he’s interrupting work insanity to bring me here.

He presses a button on the credenza and the vertical blinds that hang in front of the two picture windows that make up the open sides of the conference room begin to close. A moment later, we have complete privacy.

“You’re not going to like it,” he says.

I lean back in my chair, already irritated. “Shit, Ollie. Is this about Justin again? Can you please quit playing the role of big brother? I’m all grown up. I can take care of myself.”

He doesn’t flinch or react. As far as I can tell, he hasn’t even heard me. “Do you remember Kurt Claymore?”

I swallow. The infamous Kurt. Of all the things he might say, this really wasn’t on my radar.

“Yeah,” I say blandly. “I have a vague recollection.”

“He’s been working the past five years as a manager at a Houston-based manufacturing company.”

“So?”

“So your friend Justin had him fired this morning.”

“What?” I realize my fingernails are digging into the armrest of his guest chair. “You can’t be sure.”

“Yeah,” Ollie says. “I can. I said I never worked for Stark directly, but I do the work for Maynard. I’m the one who hired the investigator to find Kurt. I’m sorry, Nik.”

My heart is pounding painfully in my chest and my skin feels clammy. Justin tracked down Kurt. He got him fired. And he never asked me. Never talked to me. Just did it.

“He’s rich and arrogant and as far as he’s concerned he owns the world and it damn well better behave the way he wants it to.”

“No,” I say automatically. My voice is soft. I feel numb. “Justin’s not like that. He was protecting me. That was his way of protecting me.”

“Protecting you? The way he protected Sara Padgett?”

My head snaps up. “What are you talking about?”

“You know who Eric Padgett is, right?”

My stomach clenches. I’m terribly afraid of what he’s going to say. “Yes,” I manage. “You know I do. He’s the dead girl’s brother.”

“He keeps threatening to go to the press and say that Stark killed his sister. For weeks we’ve had all of Stark’s resources aimed at stopping this one asshole, and he just keeps pushing back saying he wants his money, and he’s going to screw Stark, and there’s more dirt out there than just his sister, but it all sounds like the same old smear routine. Just like I told you in Beverly Hills—we figured Eric Padgett was just one more asshole looking for a payday.”

“What’s happened?” My voice is completely flat. I just want to hear the horrible thing and get out of there. I need to be alone. I need to process this.

“Stark paid him off yesterday. That’s right,” Ollie adds in response to my openmouthed gape. “The same Justin Stark who wanted a balls-to-the-wall defense against the guy did a complete 180 and paid the fucker off. Forget fighting. Forget all his talk about not backing down, about taking it all the way as far as it would go. He just caved. Quickly and completely.”

“Caved how?” I ask, so softly I’m surprised Ollie can hear me.

“Caved to the tune of twelve-point-six million dollars.”

“Oh, God.” I don’t mean to speak, but the words fly out. I press my hand over my mouth and blink back tears.

Ollie is watching me, but I’m not really seeing him. Instead I’m seeing Justin on his terrace pacing with a phone to his ear, talking to Charles Maynard about something I don’t understand. And about twelve-point-six million dollars.

“Oh, God,” I repeat.

There’s no compassion in Ollie’s eyes as he looks at me. “Maybe Stark just got tired of the bullshit. But I don’t think so. I think he’s covering up what he did. He’s dangerous, Nik, just like I’ve been saying. He’s dangerous, and you damn well know it, too.”

My thoughts bounce randomly through my head as I steer my battered Honda to Justin’s Malibu house. Anger, loss, fear, denial, hope. I don’t know what I’m thinking or even what to think. All I know is that this isn’t good.

All I’m sure of is that it hurts like hell.

It’s just past noon, but I’m certain I’ll find him there. I called his office from the road and his secretary told me he was heading home.

Home, I know, means our third floor studio.

“Hey, Blondie,” Blaine says as I step off the landing and into the studio.

“I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

“Been doing some color studies. Trying to get the damn sky right.” He shakes his head. “Getting close, but I’m not quite there yet.” Then he gets a closer look at me, and his brow furrows with concern. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

I glance at the painting. My image is there on the canvas, more fleshed out, but still unfinished. I look raw, as if the top layer of me has been stripped away, and in that moment I think that Blaine has truly captured me. Because that is how I feel. Like Justin has ripped his way through to see what I kept hidden, and then left me exposed and vulnerable.

Justin steps in from the kitchen. “Selena.” I hear the pleasure in his voice, then the shift as he truly looks at me. “What’s going on?”

“I’m going to cut out,” Blaine says.

Justin doesn’t look at Blaine or answer. His eyes are only on me.

I wait until I hear the door shut, and then I draw in a tight breath. My heart is pounding so hard I can barely get the words out. “Did you control her the way you do me?”

I see confusion in his eyes, and it pisses me off. I hold on to the anger, because it gives me strength. “Sara Padgett,” I say. “Goddammit, Justin, do you think I don’t know?”

“What is it you think you know?” His voice is as cold as ice.

“I know you need to be in control. Your life. Your business. Your women. Your bed. I even get it,” I say. A tear has escaped and is snaking its way down the side of my nose, but I’m holding it together. Right now, it’s me who’s the expert on control. “You were abused, weren’t you? And now you need it. You need to be in control.”

I watch his face, looking for confirmation, but there’s nothing there. His face is blank and unreadable.

“I do like to be in control, Selena. I don’t think I’ve ever made a secret of that.”

No, he hasn’t. But there have been so many other secrets. “Did it start as a game?” I ask. “Did you tie her up, too?” I move toward the bed and take one of the drapes in my hand. “Did you put this oh so gently around her arms? Then around her throat? Did you tell her about pleasure and pain?” The tears are flowing freely now, and my voice is thick with them. “Was it—was it an accident?”

His face is no longer blank. Now it’s dark, like a violent storm, and just as dangerous. “I did not kill Sara Padgett.”

I manage to look him straight in the eye. “I’ve got twelve-point-six million reasons to believe that you did.”

His face goes white. It’s true. Oh, dear God, until that moment, I don’t think I really believed that it was true.

“How the hell did you hear about that?”

My skin feels clammy and my stomach is roiling. I think I’m going to be sick.

“Certainly not from you,” I say. “I guess that’s not the kind of thing you were going to try to be more open with me about, huh? Well, I suppose I can’t blame you.”

“How?” he repeats.

“I overheard some of your phone conversation,” I snap. I leave out the rest.

He shoves his fingers through his hair. “Selena—”

I hold up my hand. “No,” I say. I just want to get out of there. I shove my hand into the pocket of my jeans and pull out the ankle bracelet. I take a deep breath and then I drop it onto the bed.

I pause only long enough to look at the raw, unfinished painting. I feel a lump in my throat. Then I turn and hurry down the stairs.

Justin doesn’t come after me.

I’m not sure how I get through the next two days. They are a haze of ice cream, classic movies, and really depressing country songs. Twice, Jamie makes me go sit by the pool, saying that the vitamin D will be good for me. But it doesn’t feel good. Nothing feels good.

My sleep schedule is all screwed up, and I don’t worry about fixing it, because I don’t need to get up early since I don’t have a job. I called Bruce from the car after leaving Justin’s house and told him I couldn’t accept the job. I need to cut all my ties with Justin Stark because if I don’t, I know I’ll get reeled back in. I can feel the part of me that’s already tugging in that direction, I miss him so terribly.

My nights are turning into days and vice versa and I’m learning all sorts of things about products that are sold only by infomercial. That’s why I know neither what day it is nor what time it is when I’m awakened from a cat nap on the couch by a determined knock at the door. I yell for Jamie to answer it, but of course she’s not home. She’s had two more auditions and a callback, and while I’m thrilled for her, I’m also feeling lost and lonely.

The pounding continues. I groan and sit up.

Once the blood starts flowing I wonder who could be that persistent. Justin? I doubt it. I haven’t heard a word from him. Not to offer me explanations, or even to check on me.

Because you made the right decision. You really were just chattel. He’s moved on.

Well, fuck. Now I feel like shit all over again.

The pounding ramps up. “All right! I’m coming! Hang on!”

I stand up and blink. I can feel that my face is puffy and I know that my unwashed hair is a mess. I’m wearing the same ripped flannel pajama pants I’ve been wearing for two days, and my tank top has coffee spilled on it.

I am pathetic, and I really couldn’t care less.

I pad to the door in my fluffy socks, careful not to trip over Lady Meow-Meow, who seems thrilled to see signs of life in me.

I don’t usually bother, but I take the trouble to look through the peephole to make certain it’s not Justin about to see me like this.

It’s not.

It’s worse.

It’s my mother.

28

“Mother,” I say. “What are you doing here?”

She brushes past me, then looks critically around the room, her nose wrinkling. After a moment, she walks to the dining table, then uses the tips of her fingers to pull out the chair. She takes a tissue from her purse, brushes the seat, and sits. She folds her hands in front of her on the table and keeps her back straight.

I follow and flop down in the chair opposite. I prop my elbow on the table and rest my chin on my fist.

My mother smiles at me. The same fake smile she reserves for cashiers and gas station attendants.

I try again. “Why are you in LA?”

“I would think that was obvious,” she says. “I came to help.”

Granted my brain is a little fuzzy, but I don’t know what she’s talking about.

“With Justin Stark,” she says, and my stomach clenches tight.

“What are you talking about, Mother?”

“I saw the picture, of course. And the caption. Why you didn’t tell me a man like Justin Stark was courting you, I don’t know. But it’s the first good news I’ve heard about this move to Los Angeles.”

I stare blankly at her.

“Well, darling, really. If you’re trying to marry a man like Justin Stark, you want to make sure not to disappoint. He can so easily move on to another woman.”

Yeah. Easy. As far as I know, he already has.

She looks me up and down, her lips a thin line. “Clearly we have a lot of work to do.” She pulls her phone out of her Chanel handbag. “What’s the best spa nearby? We’ll focus on your makeup first. Thank goodness your hair is still stunning, even if it is filthy. We’ll get the ends trimmed, of course. Then a new wardrobe and then this apartment. If Jamie is particularly attached to any of these things, she can put them in storage.”

“I broke up with him, Mother.”

I swear to God, my mother turns green.

“You what?” From her tone, you would have thought I’d told her that I only had twenty-four hours to live. “Why on earth would you do something so foolish?”

“Why?” I open my mouth, grappling for something to say. “Because he has some truly fucked-up control issues. Does that sound familiar?”

She stands up, her movements slow and practiced the way she always moves when she’s angry. A lady doesn’t show emotion. A lady doesn’t spout off. “You little fool,” she says, calmly and coldly. “You always were too smart for your own good. Only Selena knew best. Only Selena knew what to do.”

“For Selena, yeah, Mother, that’s right. Only Selena knows what Selena wants.”

Her face is pinched so tight I can see where her makeup is caking and cracking. “You are spoiled and ungrateful. I can’t believe I took time out of my schedule to fly out here and see you. I am going to go back to my hotel, and you think about your life. About what you want and where you’re going and what you’re throwing away. And when you can talk calmly and rationally, I’ll come back.”

And then she turns on her heel and marches to the door and leaves. She doesn’t even slam it.

I sit there, numb. I know I should move, but I can’t. I just sit and stare and feel like I’m floating out of myself.

I don’t know if it’s been fifteen minutes or fifteen hours when my leg starts to cramp and I have to move. I glance down and realize my hand is still in a fist. I open it slowly and see the indentations from my fingernails, some so deep they’ve almost drawn blood.

I stare at my hand as I get up. I don’t realize I’m doing it as I walk into the kitchen. We have a knife block, and I take out a paring knife. I turn on the gas burner, because even in my haze I know I should sterilize the blade, and there’s no alcohol in the kitchen and I can’t leave the kitchen because then I won’t have the courage.

I wave the knife through the flame and then wait for it to cool. I press the blade against the soft flesh of my inner arm. A new place for a new pain. I start to slice—and then I violently hurl the knife across the room. It crashes into the wall, leaving a dent in the drywall.

Everything is blurry now, and I realize I’m crying. I stand up and turn a circle in the kitchen. I’m lost—so fucking lost—and despite everything it’s Justin that I want right now. Justin’s arms around me, holding and comforting me.

No, no, goddammit, no!

I snatch the kitchen scissors off the drainboard, then retreat to the corner by the dishwasher. I slide down to the floor and without thinking, I take a chunk of hair and cut it off. Then another. Then another until there is a pile of hair around me.

I look at it, run my fingers through it. That hair my mother loves so much. That hair that Justin loves, too.

I pull my knees up to my chest and hug them tight. Then I put my head down and I sob.

I don’t remember going to my room. I don’t remember getting in bed. But when I open my eyes, Justin is beside me, his eyes sad and soft.

“Hey,” he says.

Justin. My heart seems to swell and the blackness that’s been clinging to me dissipates.

He reaches out and strokes my hair.

I sit up, remembering. My hair.

“It could use some cleaning up,” he says gently. “But I think it looks cute short.”

“Why are you here? How did you know?”

“Jamie,” he says. “I’ve been calling her for days, checking on you. I thought you needed space. But then this, with your mother …”

I nod, vaguely remembering Jamie tucking me into bed and me telling her that my mother had come by. I can’t repress my shiver at the thought of seeing her again. “She’s still here,” I say. “In town, I mean.”

“No,” he says. “She’s not.”

I look at him.

“I went to her hotel. I told her she needed to leave. And then I sent her home on the jet.” Amusement lights his eyes. “Grayson’s been dying to take her out for a long flight, so this was just the ticket. And your mother seemed thrilled by the prospect of a private jet.”

I stare at him with awed amazement. “Thank you.”

“Whatever you need, baby. I told you.”

I shake my head. “No. Justin, I’m sorry. I—we can’t.”

He stands, and though I expect anger on his face, all I see is concern. “Because of Sara?”

I don’t meet his eyes.

“Oh, hell,” he says, then sits back down on the side of the bed. He hooks a finger under my chin and makes me look at him. “Do you really believe I killed her?”

“No.” The word comes out quickly and firmly and it’s completely true. A tear rolls down my cheek. “Justin, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Shhh.” He brushes my tears away. “It’s okay. You’re right. I didn’t kill her. I wasn’t even there that night. I was in San Diego. Charles finally got images from the hotel’s security camera. I was in the bar most of the night talking with the owner of a company I was interested in acquiring. That’s why he was so pissed that I settled. We had what we needed to shut Eric down, and I went and paid him off.”

I sit up straighter. “I don’t understand, either. Why would you—”

“Two reasons. Maybe I wasn’t there, but dammit, I should have shut it down with Sara long before it got out of control. I wanted her interest in the company, and I got it. I bought out some other shareholders, too, which gave me a controlling interest. I edged Eric out and I put people in place who could get the company running again. Turned a tidy profit quite quickly and the value of everyone’s stock increased, Eric’s included.”

I watch him, not sure where this is leading.

“And during all of this I was seeing Sara. I don’t usually date, and I didn’t love her. But I was busy and she was convenient and more than willing to indulge me in bed. She clung to me and though I didn’t admit it to myself at the time, I started to see signs that she was unbalanced. I knew I needed to break it off, but I was focused on some time-sensitive mergers, and I just let it ride. After the deal was complete, I did end it. But that just pushed her off the deep end.” He drags his fingers through his hair. “I never expected her to kill herself—and I would never choke a woman in bed—but that doesn’t change the fact that I played a role.”

“But it wasn’t your fault,” I say. “And Eric’s making horrible accusations. Why would you pay that bastard off?”

“Because of you.”

I gape at him. “What?”

“I was willing to fight him until the end of time if I had to. But that was before he approached you at the fund-raiser. I’m not letting him drag you into this, and I’m damn sure not letting him scare you.”

I hug myself as goose bumps rise on my arms. I’m in shock; I’m humbled. Justin completely rearranged his plans because of his concern for me. “I—but, Justin. Twelve million dollars?”

“It’s the current value of the stock I acquired from Sara, plus the value of Eric’s stock. I bought him out. A damn good deal, too. The company’s strong. I’ll make it back.”

“You didn’t have to. I can fight my own battles.”

He meets my eyes, and what I see in his is so much more than simple desire. It’s need and longing. Maybe it’s even love. “You can,” he says simply. “But this wasn’t your battle to fight.”

He takes my hand. “Selena, baby, I can’t lose you.”

I want to fold myself in his arms, but instead I turn away. “There’s other stuff, Justin.”

“I know,” he says, and I turn back, surprised.

“You know?”

“Jamie told me. Apparently Ollie told her.”

“Ollie?” Shit.

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Don’t worry. I won’t say anything to Charles. Whatever confidences he betrayed, he did it for you. The bastard may have pissed me off, but I understand why he did it. I would have done the same.”

“You had Kurt fired,” I say.

“Hell yes, I did.”

“Justin, you can’t just do that to people.”

“Actually, I can. He worked for one of my companies.”

“But—” I cut myself off. The truth is I don’t give a fuck what happens to Kurt, and the fact that Justin had his sorry ass fired doesn’t really bother me. Not by itself, anyway. It’s the rest of it.

“Selena?” He’s looking at me, his face open and vulnerable.

I reach out and stroke his cheek, the stubble of his beard scratching over my palm. The air between us is thick, and just touching him makes me feel alive. He’s like a part of me, I think. Hell, he’s like the air I need to breathe. And I need him. I need all of him. But I’m not as certain that he really needs me. “You’re wrong about what you said. About me.”

“What did I say?”

“You said I wasn’t weak.” I run a hand over my hair. “I am.”

“Oh, baby, come here.” I slide into his arms, and it feels like coming home. I press my head to his chest and listen to the rhythm of his heart. “Everyone breaks a little sometimes. That doesn’t make you weak. It makes you wounded. And I will always be there to help you heal.”

I release a shuddering breath as I pull back enough to look into his face. I can’t imagine Justin breaking, but somehow I know that he’s speaking from experience. Everyone breaks.

“Selena,” he says. “Baby, are we okay?”

I think about what my mother said about what I was throwing away, and I wonder if she’s right. For the first time in my life, can my mother actually have something to offer me?

I close my eyes, because I don’t want her in my head. When I open them again, I see only Justin. “I want to make this work,” I whisper, and the relief that I see in his eyes washes over me like a balm. “Is Jamie here?” I ask, because suddenly I’m thinking about the thin walls of the condo.

I see the hint of a frown. “No.” He clears his throat.

I narrow my eyes, confused. “What?”

“This may not be the best time, but I have a confession.”

I tilt my head and wait.

“Jamie’s going to be getting a call from her agent soon.”

“And you know this how?”

“Because it’s for a series of national commercials. For a company I have an interest in.” He’s speaking gingerly, eyeing me as if he’s afraid I’ll explode.

“You did that for her?”

“For the company, actually. The ad agency presented us with three possible actresses and Jamie was the best of the bunch.”

My smile stretches wide across my face.

Justin looks at me, baffled. “Why is that okay, but helping you get the job at Innovative wasn’t?”

I grimace, because it’s a legitimate point. “Because it just is,” I say, then laugh.

He joins me, then brushes a soft kiss over my lips. “Selena?”

“Yes?”

“I—” He stops, but not before I hear the tenderness in his voice. I close my eyes, imagining that he’s told me he loves me. The word sounds right, and not terrifying at all.

“Don’t ever leave me again,” he says.

“No,” I whisper. “How could I? I’m yours.”

He rolls over until he’s on top of me, then trails light kisses down my neck. “You said I have to be in control.”

“Not really an astounding revelation, is it?”

He chuckles. “I’m giving it to you.”

“Giving what?”

“Control, Selena. Tell me what you want. Tell me exactly what you want.”

“You mean other than you?”

“Where do you want me to touch you? How slow? Shall I graze my teeth over your nipple? Shall I bite your ear? Shall I dip my tongue into your sweet cunt? Tell me, Selena. Tell me what you want.”

“Yes,” I say, meaning all of that. “But start by kissing me.”

He does, pressing his mouth softly to mine, then with increasing firmness. His tongue finds mine, stroking and teasing and I’m getting more and more turned on, even though he’s doing nothing else. No touches, no caresses.

Damn the man, he meant what he said.

Gently, I break the kiss. “Stroke my breasts,” I say. “Then pinch my nipples.” I don’t think I’ve ever drawn out a road map to making love, but with Justin I don’t feel shy. “Tighter,” I demand, then arch up as he twists almost to the point of pain. “Kiss me,” I say. “All the way down until you get to my clit. I want your tongue there, and I want your fingers inside me.”

He grins up at me. “Yes, ma’am,” he says, then begins to slowly, torturously, work his way down my body. I’m trembling now with desire for him. The slightest touch of my body against the sheet brings me even closer to an orgasm. It’s as if my entire body is an erogenous zone. And I want him there. I want him everywhere.

I gasp with the realization of what it is that I truly want tonight. And even though his tongue on my clit feels so, so good, I ease his head up, then pull him up to kiss my lips. I roll sideways so that we’re spooning together, and then I take his hand and guide it to my ass. “Take me here,” I whisper.

I feel his body tighten, the raw heat of him increase. “Are you sure?”

“I want to belong to you,” I say. “I want to belong completely.”

“Oh, baby.” He eases me over so that I’m on my hands and knees on the bed. He strokes my cunt, getting his fingers slick with me, then takes a finger and eases it inside my anus. I gasp.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“No. No, it feels good.”

And it does. His touch sends shocks of pleasure ricocheting through me.

“Have you ever?”

“No,” I say. “Only you.”

I hear his low growl of pleasure. “Do you have any lube?”

“In the drawer,” I say, then feel his weight shift on the bed as he reaches for the small table. He opens a drawer and pulls out the bottle. He puts some on his fingers, then strokes me. I moan from the pleasure of it. “We’ll take it slow,” he says.

His mouth caresses my back. His fingers play with my clit. His cock teases my ass, and then I feel one finger slip inside me. I tense at first, then relax, overwhelmed by this new sensation.

“Okay?”

“Yes, please don’t stop.” I was going crazy from the pleasure. From the sensation of being so completely open to him. Of giving him something I’d never given anyone else. “More,” I whisper. “I’m ready, but slowly.”

Then the bulbous head of his cock is behind me. I feel how hard and stiff it is, and my hips rise without thinking. “Sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Oh, baby.” Gently, he eases inside me. I gasp, then quickly beg him not to stop.

“Easy,” he says. “Slow and easy. God, Selena, you feel so good.” He’s inside me now, moving in a gentle rhythm. The sensation of being completely filled with him is overwhelming, and I think I could come just from the feel of him inside me like this.

“Touch my clit,” I say because he’s taken his hand away. He complies, stroking in easy circles that match the rhythm of his thrusts, and Justin and I are more connected than we’ve ever been. He moves slowly, careful not to hurt me. His arm is around my hip, his hand stroking my clit, and my climax is building with his.

“I’m close, Selena,” he whispers. “Baby, I’m going to come.”

His release is fast and hard, and as he comes inside me his hand presses against my clit, the extra pressure taking me over the brink as well. We collapse together, and he kisses my shoulder, my back, holding me close until our breathing slows. “You’re mine,” he says.

“I know,” I reply, and I mean it completely.

I don’t know what kind of favors Justin had to call in, but he gets me an appointment that evening at one of the best salons in Beverly Hills, and so I end up at dinner that night sporting a darling new haircut. Shoulder-length curls that bounce when I walk now that they’re not weighed down by the length of all that hair.

I’m showered and shaved and sweet-smelling again. The dinner was to die for, and the chocolate torte is almost as good as an orgasm.

Best of all, I have Justin beside me.

Life is good again.

I take a sip of my white chocolate martini and then kiss the tip of his nose. “Ladies’ room,” I say. “I won’t be long.” I start to slide out, but he holds me back, then kisses me so hard and deep I almost melt into the booth.

“Hurry. I want to go home. I have plans for you.”

“Get the check,” I say.

“Are you finished with dessert?”

I let my gaze glide slowly over him. “Finished? I haven’t even started.”

I’m rewarded by the heat in his eyes, and I flash a coy smile before turning away and heading toward the back of the restaurant, letting my hips swing just a little as I move. My grin dies, however, when I hit the narrow hallway and see Carl coming.

“Well, if it isn’t Selena Fairchild. Hello, princess. You still fucking Justin Stark? Guess what? So am I.”

I’d intended to brush right past him, but that stops me. “What are you talking about?”

“Skeletons,” he says. “The kind that live in closets.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” But I feel cold anyway.

“I’m just thinking about how high and mighty our Mr. Stark is. You land pretty hard when you fall from the stratosphere.”

“Dammit, Carl, what are you telling me?”

“You? Not a goddamn thing. But tell loverboy I’ll be in touch.”

He walks away from me. I decide to skip the ladies’ room and return to Justin. I give him a rundown of the conversation and watch his face grow hard.

“Do you know what he’s going on about?” I ask, thinking about the abuse that he still hasn’t told me about.

“No,” he says. His voice sounds calm, natural. But there’s a shadow in his eyes. That same coldness settles around me, and I’m afraid that he’s going to shut down and push me out. But then he draws in a breath and pulls me close. “Probably some shit to do with my father,” he says. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t want either my father or Carl Rosenfeld to ruin our evening.”

He pulls me close and kisses me hard, and I nod agreement. Right now, I don’t want either of those men between us, either.

Back at the Malibu house, we make love slowly and sweetly, and I lose myself in Justin’s touch, letting him erase all my fears and worries. In the shower, he soaps me down, gently stroking the cloth over all of me, then rinsing us both off until we feel clean and new. He wraps me in a towel and leads me back to the bed, then slides under the sheets with me.

He’s on his side, looking at me, that enigmatic smile curving on his lips. I curl my fingers in his hair, holding him there, making sure there’s nothing for him to see but me. “You’re mine, too, you know,” I whisper, and only when he says yes do I loosen my hold and draw his mouth down to mine.

I feel the change in his breathing as he falls asleep pressed close against me. I think about the skeletons and ghosts that still hide in the dark corners of Justin’s past. I remember Eric Padgett’s words. Secrets, he’d said, and I shiver, afraid that Justin’s going to have to face that darkness. But I’ll be there when he does, and we’ll face the darkness together.