#⊰ ` i. study: aesthetic / / let the sun’s light rain down on me. ´ ⊱

[rahorak-a]

Each day you rise with me, know that I would gladly be The Icarus to your certainty, oh my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight Strap the wing to me, a death trap clad happily With wax melted I'd meet the sea, under sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

SHIP AESTHETIC BOARD : KAYLE / LEONA PT. I. For @rosebloodiied​​​.

[nyctophiliq]

(i just saw your matchup post, so i will strike my shot. miss you broooo, i've been away from tumblr 😭 also you can ignore this if there's no more places, ily mwah)

soooo...about myself...ok, this is hard omg. ok 😭*takes a deep breath* don't panic!! ugh 😮‍💨.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

GENERAL ♡

- cancer sun, infj mbti, ravenclaw

- 21 years old

- short af, i am like, 4'11

- lesbian

- i am the theatre and ballet kid

- i currently work as a makeup artist but i also do tarot readings for an extra income

- physical traits are that i am really fucking short, pale, petite, tattooed, blue eyes, i am a natural blonde but i recently dyed my long hair black for the aesthetic.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

PERSONALITY ♡

- i am very introverted and laid back, however, i am not at all timid. i love spending time by myself and i get overwhelmed easily in public as i recharge alone, or besides the one person i love. i am a huge appreciator of silence and calmness.

- i am a crybaby. literally. i am a very sensitive person and the stereotype of a feeler, i kin that one melanie martinez song 🤡. i am the type of person who will cry because an animal is cute and i just find it wholesome, or if i see an emotional scene in a disney cartoon. yes. pathetic, i know. my friends pick on me a lot for it lmfao.

- i have the caregiver syndrome. i worry a lot about the people i care about and i am very nurturing over them. i need to constantly check if they're feeling good, if they ate, drank water...when i hang out, i always end up being the mom of the group.

- huge animal person. i adore all animals and if i see one, i will feel like petting it. i mean it. it could even be a squirrel. don't judge me moss, i am not out of my disney princess phase. however, i am a cat person. i loooooove cats and my camera roll is legit 80% pictures of my cats. my clothes and furniture are covered in fur, i swear. i will send cat videos to my s.o. and caption it with "us".

- the thing i value the most in a person is loyalty. i even have a loyalty tattoo. it's a strong trait i have in myself, if i love you, i would kill and die for you. it makes me a very intense lover as i literally turn into some gomez addams.

- my toxic trait is that i isolate myself when i am feeling down, upset, or depressed. i push people away when things get tough because i would rather handle myself than bringing my problems onto them. i have a hard time letting people help me.

- i love beauty and i see beauty in all things. so i am always dressed up, even if i have nowhere in particular to go. i love fixing my hair, taking care of my body, dressing up, buying accessories and clothes, my house is all decorated and everything i carry with me must be unique and delicate. i am also very, very feminine. my feminity isn't light though, it's dark.

- i am a witch. i have been studying and practicing witchcraft for years and it's a very important aspect of my life. i am devoted to hekate and i have an altar for her at home. as i stated up there, i am a tarot reader and it's part of my income.

- i speak in a calm, low tone even when i am angry. it's scary because I'm there talking quietly with my eyes almost alive on my face.

- my house smells like scented candles and incenses.

- i ALWAYS smell good. i am paranoid over it, i swear. i am always putting essential oils on my skin, moisturizer, perfume...i must always smell marvelous and live of my fantasy of being a fairy in a modern woman desguise lmfao.

- i love quietness, as i said. so with that said, i like going on walks in nature. i like walking barefoot on the grass and if it's breezy, i open the windows of my apartment just to feel it on my skin. if it starts raining a little, i don't open my umbrella, i love the feeling of the water droplets and the smell of wet earth.

- i feel attracted to older, stronger women. as a person who's very independent and even a bit stubborn, i like the thought of a partner who will make me fall to my knees, tame me. you know, make me melt down. as lana said, "i'm stronger than all my (wo)men, except for you."

- stanning lana del rey is a personality trait for me so uhm 🚬💋

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

HOBBIES ♡

- reading. i am such a bookworm and i am always reading something in public. if you see me at the subway, i will have a book in hand. my favorite author is edgar allan poe. i tend to recite a lot of book quotes in conversations.

- writing. i mean, you already know this moss lmfao, but i love writing. It can either be fanfiction, though i am currently working on a fantasy book. however, my biggest love is and always will be poetry.

- baking. i love baking shit. specially cake.

- i go on walks daily and i take the opportunity to watch the world around me while listening to music.

- my day only starts after i have coffee.

- ballet (?). I don't think it should be here as a hobby because i am a professional ballerina and i have been dancing since i was a child, but here it is.

- gaming. can be electronic, gambling, board games...it doesn't matter to me.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

my preference ♡ - moss, i just want an older woman from either arcane or league of legends because i have mommy issues. love you girlie.

your match-up and star messenger is . . .

ENFORCER GRAYSON (istj) !

you are the "there is a thin line between love and hate" couple

let moss explain... enforcer grayson is a woman of her word, strength, and knowledge, she takes down every obstacle be it emotional or physical but after the first time meeting you she doesn’t really know where to put you. she despises your cheery voice, that you choose the skirt over the pants in the office even with all these men around, she is sick of you and picks on you every chance she gets. after getting you to know a little better, now being aware of her feelings for you she will be distant, no longer insulting you, but instead just pulling on her shoulder before leaving you behind.

she needs someone like you, someone who cares for her, makes sure she has enough lunch for her work day, and that she never forgets to drink and not only those alcoholic drinks she oh so often jugs down after she is off duty. she appreciates that you too recharge when having space, she needs that too to clear her thinking, to form thoughts influenced by nothing. at the first few stages of your relationship, she will seem like she is playing you, that she might just wanna see if she still has the charm but she really is nervous about actually seducing you. she wants you to be hers, to spend a life together, to create memories both of you will fondly remember no matter the hard times.

some aspects of your relationship would be:

"stop texting me weird stuff at night, i am right next to you."

dance class dates !!! grayson always wanted to learn the proper way to dance when hitting a gala, she just hasn't had the perfect partner yet.

she will always make little comments about your tarot readings, she doesn't believe in that... but... it does seem interesting as you do it

she gives you a chuckle every time you drop a few tears because of something being cute, it warms her heart in a non-weird way

MEETING EACH OTHER !

version 1

ah yes, the steam train, is one of the most convenient ways of getting to work for you. the ticket was cheap, the ride was short, and looking out on its windows gave you a whole new perspective on piltover. grayson too takes the train most of the time to work for the listen reason above but the day she first saw you was because she was patrolling on the train. you were yet to get off, but she couldn't get her eyes off of you, then she saw the book in your hand and tried making up the courage to step to you and ask for your name. but when she finally did you were just getting off, leaving your book behind on your seat, giving her the perfect opportunity to strike.

"i wouldn't mind buying you coffee and talking about the book... hope you wouldn't either."

version 2

you have been working at the piltover police office for the past few months, not the best job but it paid well enough so you only needed to pick up a smaller job to really make a living. you didn't do much, sit in front of a pile of papers, and that's why you didn't understand why you were required to do a physical test when you have more than enough case hours to dodge it. but order is order, and you have to keep this job if you want to make it through this time of the year. you were waiting for the pt instructor in the station's gym, impatiently staring at the clock above the entrance of the room. soon grayson walked inside, looking like a high school pe teacher, yet she still managed to take you by surprise, how inviting she looked despite the frown she had on her face. she too felt a sort of... pull towards you and hardly held eye contact whenever you tried to.

"come on sweet heart, physical for you? you help us out so much, had it already waved it for ya’.”

YOUR SONG IS . . .

stargirl interlude by lana del rey !

[fanficsrusz]

I WANT TO KI__ YOU - FINAL CHAPTER

Warnings: Kidnapping, Dub-Con, Non-con, Stockholm Syndrome, Being Restrained, Breeding, murder, everything bad.

PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. IF YOU FIND ANY OF THESE WARNINGS TRIGGERING, THEN DO NOT READ. BY CONTINUING TO READ FROM THIS POINT ON, YOU ARE AGREEING THAT YOU ARE COMFORTABLE WITH ALL OF THE ABOVE WARNINGS. I DO NOT ACCEPT ANY RESPONSIBILITY IF YOU FEEL TRIGGERED BY THE FOLLOWING CONTENT SINCE THERE HAS BEEN PLENTY OF WARNINGS. IF YOU FEEL LIKE ANY OTHER WARNINGS SHOULD BE ADDED THEN PLEASE POLITELY DM ME AND I WILL ADD THEM.

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Summery: After failing to fulfill his contract, John takes a liking to y/n and his liking soon turns into a dark obsession

Aesthetic Playlist

A/n: After a billion years, a billion mental breakdowns and just about everything else, I have finally mustered up the courage to finish this series. I don't know how to feel.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter and I look forward to reading all your comments and feedback. If you liked this chapter then please reblog it. That is how writers like myself are able to spread out work to other people, especially because there have been a lot of issues with tags lately. Thank you ❤️

<< Previous Chapter

The taste of his lips was something that she should hate. It's something that she should crave to loaf. But even after everything he put her through, he was the sweetest poison.  

John was like an elegantly bound book but in a language she couldn't read. Y/n never thought she would love all the bad things about someone but there she stood, staring out into the openness of the forest through the front door. 

The door was there as if her dream had become solid, as if it had grown upon the hinges and blossomed into a comforting hue. An exit. A way out of the nightmare she found herself in. In all the time she had been trapped in the house, the door had remained a mystery to her. Not that she didn't know what laid beyond it, but the idea of what she would do when she saw the day it was held open for that long. 

She realised in the air that had been so still on the previous days had suddenly gained a slight movement, as if it had discovered its direction yet was content to meander at its own pace. The autumn breeze that carried fine drops, each one a promise of the rain to come.  Newly chilled air that moved the clouds, streaks of brilliance breaking through from a patient sun.

 Y/n let her eyes rest for a moment, feeling the ambiance of nothing, hearing the sounds, taking in the aroma, letting her brain process what laid ahead. 

John came behind, his lips grazing her hair as he pressed a chaste kiss upon her head. 

"I need an answer." 

His voice came as a whisper but had a firmness to it as he waited for their fate to be sealed. 

Choices were rarely a fork of two pathways, yet with eyes a little wider open, many pathways appeared before her. The right path for one person can be different from another and only the inner compass of love and passion could illuminate it for that soul to walk upon.

"I-" her lips parted, the single syllable falling from her mouth before she stopped. Her eyes clenched shut, images of her past life flashing through her mind, her heart thumping as the emotions of what she had lost pumped through her. 

Before she could even register her own existence in her new life, her feet had pulled her from John's hold. 

She could feel her heartbeat… every single pound in her chest. This great pounding, this great pressure; every beat. She could hear it, she could feel it. It remained steady with every step she took closer to the door, it remained through what little breaths she could shove down her throat. It remained when she stood and swayed at the threshold. That dark beating remained, as she waited for her own choice to take hold of her body. 

With a shaky hand she took hold of the new wooden door, a sigh leaving her as she pushed the door shut, sealing her inside the house and sealing her fate with no other exit. Just like that any glimmer of escape faded away coldly into infinite darkness. Y/n's skin shuddered and she could feel her brain starting to defocus, searching for new hope. She should have gone … out there, to the forest where the paths ran in every direction and she could be free. But one thing and one thing alone stopped her. 

Aurora. 

John's hand creeped up her arm, offering her a caring touch. 

"Thank you" he whispered, breath hot on the back of her neck.

"For what?" her voice came out hostile, sadness prominent in her tone. 

"You chose me -" he smiled, "you chose us. You chose Aurora. You chose love." his arms circled her waist, pulling her closer to his icy warmth. "I can't believe you finally recognised the importance of what we have. You've finally learnt to appreciate it all and that's all I ever wanted from you". 

Sadness sat an inch below Y/n's face, eyes remaining dry, expression impassive. She knew that if she even let a fraction out that the rest would follow, a never ending torrent of grief. She moved nothing but her eyes, her mind racing while every muscle stayed rock still against John's hold. 

"I just needed you to see it with your own eyes, to have you understand that this could be a wonderful life, that we can build a perfect, loving, family" John let his mind wander within the walls of his own fantasy. 

"Just think about it. Think about all the good things we can do together here. We can be happy, we can enjoy each other as much as we want without having to worry about the world out there and all the bad things it brings -" he placed a heated kiss onto her skin, his teeth nipping lightly. 

That warm, raspy voice that possessed his cords, sent nerves dancing up her spine. Normally his smile sent her mind into an uncontrolled, captivated spiral and his light touch lingered, it branded her soul with a simple mark: infatuation. To call it love would be a mockery of her heart, a symbol of her dying innocence. But every tempered word he spoke invaded her mind, like ivy tendrils seeking any point of weakness to enter; they wrapped her body in a blanket of comfort and consumed her soul in the heat of lust.

Y/n remembered that night John took her in a soft, painful haze. It was the night that taught her the difference between love and infatuation. Love is unconditional, eternal... Infatuation? It dies. 

Y/n had become infatuated with John to some degree. The sense of protection that he provided was something that she had never known. What else did she have other than John? But Aurora? She deserved better. Y/n loved her more than anything and she wasn't about to let her daughter live in four walls. Captive. Her beauty hidden away from the world. 

That wasn't a life she wanted for her. 

"-I only needed to know that you were convinced, that you had it in your heart" John continued, his lips peppering her skin with soft kisses. 

"well now you know" y/n whispered, eyes still glued to the closed door. 

"You know-" John gently turned her body, forcing her to look at him as his soft brown eyes studied her features for a moment, "-keeping you chained in that basement for the rest of your life was a possibility but that wasn't enough for me" 

Y/n felt the pad of his thumb rub against the wet skin of her cheek, rubbing away a few tears that had managed to quietly escape their fortress. 

"I wanted you to be here with me, so you could enjoy this life of ours without being kept like an animal." his eyes softened, eyebrows dipping kindly. "It was all necessary at first. Just a training process and I only kept you like that because you needed it" 

Y/n knew it was wrong what he did. But why did it hurt to know what she would do? 

"I understand" she whispered, her own hands wrapping around his waist as she buried her face in his chest. With a deep breath she took note of all the musky sweet notes of his scents. John rested his head on top of hers, his smile uncontrollable. 

"it was like the medicine you needed to take" John let out a small laugh as he thought back. "you were this small little disobedient puppy. It was cute honestly but it was just something you needed to go through to get stronger. And now look at you!" he pulled back, holding her at arms length so be count admire her perfect face. "you're so beautiful and So loyal" 

John kissed the droplets of tears from her lips, and she felt his lips smile against hers. He swept her hair aside and kissed her just over the collarbone. He nibbled at her ear, and then sank himself into her arms. She hung her fingers on his waistband, dragging him closer and he buried his face in her shoulder curve, his hands flexing around her back. John gave a reduced groan before whispering “I love you,” into her hair. 

"So do I" she mustered back. 

"I can't believe you finally see me for what I really am. Your family. Your soulmate. Your world. Of course that world includes Aurora. Her future brothers and sisters. We will have all we need right here" he placed another kiss onto her forehead. "we can build something new, something perfect and you are the one who made it all possible. You - you have no idea how special you are to me my love." 

John stepped back, extending his hand for her to take and Y/n slowly took it into hers. 

"I will never let you go. No matter what happens, I will always find you."

-

Three days later 

The perfect life for the perfect wife. That's what Y/n told herself daily, over and over. 

Y/n had been baking for a few hours and as the moments passed, tune by tune as the radio sang along, the piles of cookies, buns and breads grew. It was the same as mess, only the good sort she supposed, the edible sort that made people happy. That would make her happy. 

Aurora sat in her highchair, cooing softly as Y/n plated a few cookies and turned slowly, smiling as she watched her daughter stare up at her. 

She placed the plate on that table and kissed Aurora on the forehead. 

"No matter what happens. I love you" she breathed heavily and pulled back when she heard John step into the kitchen. 

"Good morning" Y/n smiled, wiping some of the drool from Aurora's face. 

John rounded the table and kissed y/n on the cheek before kissing Aurora's head. 

"Good morning my loves". 

For a moment there was silence in the large room and y/n shifted on her feet. 

"What are you going to do today?" John finally asked, pulling a glass from the cupboard and filling it with some water. 

Y/n shook her head slowly. 

"I don't know. Maybe clean. Play with Aurora. I baked some cookies already" John's eyes lit up as he walked over to the table, smiling as he picked up a warm cookie. 

"You made these?" he asked and y/n only hummed. 

"Mhmm" 

John kissed her cheek and Y/n savoured the feeling of his lingering touch before she turned around to face him. 

"Try it. Tell me how it is". 

John smirked before lifting the cookie to her mouth. 

"oh no. I've already eaten so many of them. I made them specially for you" 

"Such a good wife" John smiled. The cookie skimmed his lips before he shoved it into his mouth, letting the buttery goodness explode against his tongue. 

"Wow" he exclaimed, "This is really good". Y/n’s eyes lit up with excitement as she watched him eat a second cookie without hesitation. 

"Good. I'm glad you like them". 

John lifted his glass of water to his lips before he felt something wash over him. Something he hadn't felt… Ever. 

His hand extended towards Y/n as he tried to grab her, reaching out for support but she only pulled away, the smile she wore still on her face as she watched him intently. 

John breathed heavily but the air just wouldn't go in, like his lungs were surrounded by metal bands. Next came the rising panic, the dizzy feeling and the need to get low to the ground. The exertion brought on more breathlessness, like the air around him was devoid of oxygen. His ribs heaved up and down but no benefit came.

"Y.. Y/n…" his wheezing voice called out to her but she only stepped back. 

The poison was made to mimic an efficient virus, to kill the host fast. A few drops here and there and the decay set in, a sort of race to the bottom. The best part? She didn't even know what it was. She just read the bottle that John had stashed away and shoved it into the batter. If there was one thing she learnt from her mother was that love was the best blindfold for any plan. 

Y/n picked up Aurora, cradling her in her arms as she watched John gasp for breath. In his glassy eyes that stared up at her, she saw her reflection and she saw that what she was doing was the right thing. 

"You were and always have been a - monster" the words seemed to burn her tongue but she ignored the pain it caused. "You will never be able to find me or her again. Goodbye John" 

As the blackness finally began to consume him once and for all, he watched as his love pulled open the front door, her shadowy figure slowly fading into the darkness as he also did. 

-

3 months later. 

"Thank you, detective" y/n pushed the papers into her handbag before placing the bag back onto that handle of the pram. Aurora laid asleep in her arms and y/n slowly stood up. 

"No worries" the detective smiled kindly before reaching out over the table, stopping y/n from moving any more. "-and just so you know, I'm sorry. I know there isn't anything I can say that can fix everything that happened to you but You're safe now. We won't let anything else happen." y/n smiled softly and placed her hand on top of his reassuringly. 

"It's okay. You searched and you couldn't find me. There isn't anything anyone could have done. He… Was different. He was smart". 

The detective shook his head and pulled his hand away, burying them in piles of paper. 

"he was a monster for what he did". 

Y/n felt the tears well in the back of her eyes as she felt her throat turn dry. 

"I-" before she could even think of anything to say, Aurora began to cry and y/n laughed, shaking the pain of her aching heart away. "-I should really get her home". 

"Of course". He led y/n to the door, holding it open for her as they began to proceed down the corridor. 

"There's still quite a few reporters out there so it's best you take the back exit. Officer Hughes will swing by your place later on to check in" 

"Oh. Terry? He doesn't have to. He's been doing that everyday for the past three months -" 

"Nonsense. It's the least we could do". 

Y/n smiled and looked down at her watch. 

"Thank you so much detective. I'll see you later" 

"see ya". 

Y/n left the building and sighed as she heard the loud noise of the city and wind around her, the warm sun warming her body just as the first few drops of rain fell from the sky. 

"Let's get you home" she whispered to her daughter, pushing the pram towards home. 

-

The cafe that y/n lived above laid ahead, just around the corner and y/n couldn't wait to get her feet up. It's royal blue paint glistening under the closed sky was definitely a sight for sore eyes. She could just about see the large sign, decorated with droplets of water that hung on like glistening jewels. "Gloria's."

 Outside the sidewalk that would bustle in a few short hours was quiet, the concrete oblivious to whether it was midday or midnight. Y/n’s face smirked upward at the sight of the flower planter to the right, the city has put in new blooms that will give flashes of sunny yellows and hot pinks through the springtime. If she stopped walking right now she could almost hear the heartbeat of the city, quiet, like the ticking of an old Grandfather clock.

Her mind was too preoccupied with the world around her and y/n didn't notice the figure that hid under the umbrella that she nearly ran over. 

"Oh I'm so sorry!" y/n exclaimed, extending her hand to steady the person. Y/n waited patiently for the person's response, waiting to make sure she didn't hurt them. 

Then she heard it, the dark, low chuckle that made her spine tingle. 

"You're just as polite as the first time, Princess" 

The end.

Tags

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(rest of tags will be added in reblogs)

[crispycrimebrulee]

A Kite x Reader Short: Autumn Rain~

A/N: I woke up and it was raining and everything felt aesthetically pleasing to me~

Song Listened to: My New Love by Elijah Who

You rolled over in bed, burying your head under the covers, balling yourself up in the warmth. Having a small opening for air, as well as a small view of the room, you blinked, sleepiness making your vision slightly blurry. The room was sufficiently dark, but you were sure it was morning. A dull, gray wash had taken over the room, as if it were the wee hours of the morning, before the sun had broken out. Laying in silence, you could hear the gentle patter of rain on the window and the ground outside, threatening to lull you back to sleep with its low rhythm. Sitting up slightly, you grabbed your phone to check the time. 10:49AM. You sat up fully, looking around at the room and panicking slightly. Kite usually has you up and ready by 8AM, with you tagging along during his work, studying the environment. You rubbed your eyes and slowly rubbed your temples, trying to rid the sleep from your body. 

Turning slightly, you almost fell out of the bed. Kite was sitting by the window, staring out of it, a calm expression gracing his face. He looked particularly soft, the soft dull light giving his skin a soft glow, as well as making his long hair shine gently like moonlight on a quiet lake. He held a mug in his hand, most likely tea, and the steam rising from the cup completed the look of pure serenity he had about him. 

Hearing you stir, he turned to you, and he smiled. 

“Thought you’d sleep til noon, y/n” he mused, placing the mug down on the window sill. 

You blushed a little, feeling slightly guilty about sleeping so late. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to over sleep like this…” you muttered back, stretching as you spoke.

“I don’t mind. I would have let you.” he replied, coming over and sitting next to you.

You looked at him, since he was now much closer, and you took some strands of his hair in your hand, gently passing it between your fingers. Moving up, you ran your fingers from root to tip, gently combing it out, lost in the smooth glide of his hair. He hummed softly, melting into it and smiling. 

“Care to go out with me, y/n?” he asked, his eyes shifting to you.

“In...the rain?” you asked,  squinting at the window and then back at him. 

Kite blinked. 

“Why not?” he stated, turning to you and studying your face.

“Kite...it’s raining.”

“Drizzling, but still.”

You looked at Kite, unable to counter his strange and quite frankly skim argument, if you could call it that. Kite was never really one to avoid doing outside work because of the weather. In fact, most times he’d be quietly excited about the rain or the snow, seeing as the changes in the environment were always bringing out something interesting to observe. 

Shrugging, you nodded slowly, seeing as the argument of ‘it’s raining’ wouldn’t get through to him.

“I don’t see why not.” you finally said, giving in.

Kite beamed and gently patted your head, getting up to get ready to go out. 

After some tea, breakfast, and rummaging around for rain boots, Kite was satisfied and ready to step out into the rain, holding an umbrella and unlocking the front door. Opening up the door and then the umbrella, he took your hand and led you outside.

You could barely see beyond your hands, the fog outside was thick, and the dusty gray sky was only contrasted by the dark branches of wet trees, and the occasional ray of soft light from a hidden sun. It was relatively cold out, the rain not doing any assistance to that fact. You shivered as cool air practically passed through your bones, making you bury your face into the scarf Kite had wrapped around you. Kite glances at you and turns, fixing the scarf to be more snug and up on your face. Moving his hand to fix his hat a little more snug, you trekked forward into the fog. The leaves didn’t crunch as you walked over them, and although it was a little disheartening, you didn’t mind it so much, as they formed an auburn carpet over the path you took. Kite wasn’t too interested in the leaves on the ground, rather taking in the leaves on the trees, occasionally reaching up to touch them. He rested his hand on a particular leaf, clearly enraptured by its hue; an orange and yellow leaf, with slightly red veins running through it. Plucking it from the branch, he held it closer to his face, running his finger over it. It was a rather large maple leaf, smooth to the touch and almost as big as his hands. Turning to you, he handed you the leaf, not saying anything. You accepted it, holding onto it and inspecting it as he did. You continued walking with him as he plucked more interesting leaves from the trees and handed them to you. You noticed, eventually, that he’d been gently rubbing your knuckles, as he tends to do whilst quietly holding your hands. He was always one for gentle affection, a quiet type of love with soft words and chaste touches, holding you as if you were fragile and in need of care. 

Taking note of where you were, you knew you were coming to a bridge, his favorite bridge in this area of the woods. There were little koi fish in the pond that the bridge crossed over, so you knew that’s what he intended to watch. Watching the koi fish was always something he loved to do with you as you talked about nothing and everything. Of course, you couldn’t sit on the nearby bench, seeing as it was soaked with rain, but you had no problem standing nearby the pond or on the bridge itself. 

Arriving at the pond, you prepared yourself to stop and start a general conversation with Kite. However, he only lingered by the pond, his eyes following the fish as they swam around, ducking behind rocks and reeds as the vibrations from walking startled them. He walked over the bridge, much to your confusion as he passed the fish for a few moments. You looked up at him, and he smiled, taking you further into the forest. 

You’d reached a lake after walking in silence for a few minutes, a gentle warm mist rising from the waters, melting into the fog laying low over the lake. Small rocks scattered the shores of the lake, rolling and cracking as you stood over them. You dug your heels into the pebbles, kicking at them gently, watching them roll into the water. With his free hand, Kite picked up a rather flat stone, and tossed it over the water, watching it skip, once, twice, three times before sinking into the water. He bent down and picked up another stone and handed it to you, silently suggesting you join him in skipping stones. You held it, and attempted to throw it like he had, only for it to skip once and sink into the water. You pouted, and picked up another stone and flicked your wrist like Kite had, only for the same thing to happen again, the rock sinking rather quickly. Grumbling under your breath, you picked up another stone, but before you could give another attempt, Kite was behind you, his hand over yours, gently and warm. You looked up at him, studying his slightly concentrated expression. He moved your hand and wrist in a slow, sideways flinging motion, your arm and hand following on its own after some time. Deciding to try again, you tossed the stone, and it skipped, twice, three times, now four! You clapped a little, looking at Kite, and he smiled back, picking up some more stones, quietly throwing them into the lake, watching them cut through the mist and the fog and then watching them disappear in the water.

[7wanderingpaws]

Summer Rain ☔

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: one shot, university AU, fluff

Word count: 2.1K

Warnings: none

A/N: This was soo unplanned!! But my mind is full of ideas recently! The moodboard is my first ever so apologies; it isn’t as aesthetically pleasing, but I still had fun :((( if you could let me know what you thought... I’d  be glad! 😊

.

There was a laugh that resonated the space in the university park. It was a bright summer day, making you feel pleasant since the recent storms cleaned up the air and brought in cool breezes. 

You were humming a song to yourself and an instant smile spread over your face when you heard that contagious smile. Not even looking up to know whom it was coming from, you continued drawing, his image vivid in front of your eyes even though you weren’t seeing any of him in that instant. Your left leg was folded under your backside while the other one was dangling from the bench, enjoying the freedom and the gentle breeze.

Another round of that same laughter came to you and this time you looked up, your gaze focusing on his face.

He was sitting opposite you, thankfully. You arrived to the place before him and his friends, and as much as you suppressed the gnawing thoughts, you felt like it was a beautiful fate that he sat across you so you could have a proper view while you were drawing exactly him. Right now, his eyes were almost invisible given how wide of a smile was plastered on his face before he chucked down a bottle of water he kept slurping from the entire time. He listened to what his friend had to say before starting to giggle again.

You sighed blissfully, slowly averting your gaze back to the little drawing you had going on. It had been weeks since you started working on this comic book, drawing all your desires down. Desires and images you had with him. As much as it could have been creepy, you liked to imagine him in different universes. If he wouldn’t be a university student, what would have become of him? Or he had been one but he liked to smoke and not smile too much, his reserved posture still a charming point. You imagined him in various clothing that wouldn’t  be scandalous, but the lines you sketched with your pencil would be able to give the image a sensual feeling, your heart fluttering just at the thought of him dressing that way.

But the most common sketch you almost always ended up drawing unconsciously was him smiling down at you, holding sunflowers out for you to take. His long hair would fall into his warm eyes and the sun kissing his skin would turn it into gold. And just like that, it would end up with another sketch where you kiss him. Because that was the only way you were willing to have the story end. Kissing. Both of you smiling.

But you didn’t know him. You never talked to him. And his smiles were basically for free, given how he would smile at anyone who met his eyes even for a split second. A walking sunshine, indeed.

And just like that you were crying.

A drop fell onto your sketch, exactly on his smiling face as he was looking at you.

Except, it weren’t your tears for once.

“Guys, let’s go! It’s raining!” you heard his friends shout, grabbing all their belongings they had sprawled out on the table.

The crowded park suddenly moved. Everyone was rushing into the surrounding buldings as the rain intesified, while you took the time to collect all your sutff, trying to avoid the rain drops ruining all your artwork.

The weather not hinting it would suddenly let rain fall, you didn’t come prepared, umbrella dutifully stored in the corner of your apartment. Reaching for the last sketch, another hand, quite feminine, appeared in the line of your vision, grabbing it and handing it to you. Murmuring a thanks, you barely got to look up while you zipped up your backpack before you heard a voice.

“Come quickly, you don’t want to get drenched,” said... Baekhyun.

Snapping your widened eyes up at him, you froze, not understanding what was he doing in front of you, his jacket above his head as a shield as he motioned his hand at you to hurry you. Without waiting for your answer, he stepped next to you and widened his right arm so that you were under his jacket too, before he said: “Run!”

And well. When people tell you to run, you run. And so you did, the backpack now on your back. The rain was so heavy, puddles were already reflecting him and you when you stepped into them, splotching the dirty water to every direction. You giggled happily and you heard his breathy laugh, too. Daring to look up, you saw his profile that you so well studied for all those weeks, trying to get each and every curve, spot, scar of his face correctly. Even though you really were good at your craft, no one could give justice to his face, not even your steady, skilled hand.

“Which building?” he shouted over the rain, looking down at you, to catch you stare. He gave you a genuine smile as he slowed down a bit and only then you heard yourself panting.

“Art building,” you replied, not dropping the eye contact. He nodded before he turned to the left.

Thankfully for you, art building was further away from the university park. At least five-seven minutes of walking. You knew you had some little time with him for now.

“So an art student, huh?” he asked. “I saw your drawings. They are amazing.”

Your heart stopped beating for a split second. The drawings of him. Was he able to recognize himself?

You blushed, biting your lip as you stared on the pavement trying not to step into another huge puddle, although your white sneakers had been already drenched. “There are better people out there.”

“But you have a very distinct style,” he stated and when you looked at him again, his smile was even wider. “Like, really, really cool one. And, I don’t think I have met you before,” he added nonchalantly.

Smooth talker. But your heart was still beating hard and fast. “Eh, yeah, I am not the most known person on this campus.”

“Neither am I.”

You scoffed gently and he gave you a curious gaze. “If you say so. But,” you stopped for a second, quickly contemplating whether what you were about to say would ruin your conversation or not. “I defintely met you before. Well, saw you.”

You might as well admit your crush on him.

He was genuinely surprised at your words. “Really? I am so sorry, I usally don’t pay attention...”

“No,” you quickly said, shaking your head gently, “it is all fine. Anyway,” you said and told him your name, smiling at him brightly. At your name, his eyes sparkled and murmured: “I’m Baekhyun.”

“Nice to meet you.” Finally.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he said, sending you a playful wink.

You giggled again, looking ahead of you, just to spot the art building. Not very happy about it, you stole another glance at the male next to you and when he felt your gaze, he turned his head with a lopsided grin.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice light.

“What is your major?”

“Singing and performing.” He shook his head to get his long hair out of his eyes. “But I am also very intrested in music production and such.”

You knew it. You knew it all. His major - it could be easily figured out, and your crazy high school-like crush on him made you sniff out information quite easily. The latter information though, you overheard in the cafeteria when, yet during another fateful meeting, he sat opposite you at the table in front of you, and spoke with passion about creating music.

You still feigned surprise. “So art building is your main place for lectures, too! I am a bit offended you never paid me any attention,” you acted.

Baekhyun laughed but you felt it wasn’t completely honest. He was sorry. “Hey, no, no, I am just so ignorant towards my surroundings sometimes,” he spoke gently. “You have no idea how mad I am right now that I missed a chance to talk to someone like you.”

You almost stopped walking, redness and heat giving away your emotions to him. Was this a dream? “Well, we can always just do that. Start talking,” you smiled genuinely.

He hummed. “That we should do.”

Climbing up the stairs that led to the main entrance, you stopped once safely under the roof, turning to stare at the huge downpour. If Baekhyun wouldn’t be next to you right now, you would have closed your eyes and imagine him next to you. Just how lovely was it you didn’t have to imagine and dream?

“So,” he said sheepishly as he turned to you, his jacket drenched and leaving a small puddle on the concrete where he was standing. He observed your red cheeks and your curled up hair from the humidity and suddenly forgot the question he was planning to ask you. You blinked rapidly at him, which snapped him out of his reverie, because damn, that was cute. “Eh, would you like to show me your drawings? And then,” he hesitated, his hair falling into his eyes again. Your hand itched. “We could grab a coffee if... the game would be still on for you.”

If the game would be still on for you, he had said. Leaving those words up to your forever colourful imagination, you nodded, somehow not shy to show him the sketches of... him. The on-going comics would be considered too, but you would have to see.

Sitting in the common area, you took out your sketchbooks, some having donkey ears because you used them so much. A shiver ran down your spine when he sat close to you, his knee almost knocking into yours.

Catching the goosebumps on your forearm, he was quick to shrug off his shirt that he wore over his white t-shirt. Before you could protest, he stood up and put it gently on your shoulders from behind, making sure the skin was covered well. Smiling to yourself, you thanked him as he sat back down, an intense emotion in his eyes as he nodded in acknowledgement.

One deep breath, and you slowly opened up the sketchbooks. He was still watching you, though, the sharp light of the common room highlighting features a daylight wouldn’t do.

“This is,” you started and caught his gaze on you, but you didn’t let that discourage you. If anything, you were more than sure of this. “This is all my recent work that I take pride in. So be kind,” you added, raising your index finger to warn him.

Baekhyun chuckled at your antics when he caught your index finger and gently shook it, letting it go. “Okay, okay, calm down, tiger.”

Laughing, you tucked your hair behind your eyes, observing him observing your work. He was studying each piece with interest, humming in approval, dragging his fingers over the surface, over your signature. “The details are almost perfect,” he muttered and after a second he raised his eyes to meet yours.

“Yeah, almost,” you agreed, shrugging. “Nothing is perfect in this world, Baekhyun.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, and smirking, he reached a palm out to you. “A pencil, dream girl.”

Staying still and staring, it took you a moment to break his eye contact. His encouraging smile made you move finally, taking out your pencil case you doodled various versions of banana milk on, and placed your favourite pencil into his awaiting palm. “Here.”

Baekhyun didn’t wait, as he grabbed one of the sketches of him. “Almost perfect... Why almost, when it could be just perfect?” he murmured, leaning in close, the pencil’s sharp point hovering above the drawn lips. He moved it just above the right side, and placed a small dot.

Your mouth was hanging open by then when realisation hit you.

And all your racing thoughts were confirmed when he looked back up at you and leaned in close, pointing to a mole just above his lip. Just where he drew the dot on the lip on your sketch. “You missed the part with the biggest sexappeal, cutie.”

Still not giving in, you frowned. “No more dream girl?”

“I don’t think it would suit you anymore,” he said, tapping his chin. “Since you might change from a dream girl to...?”

“Baekhyun-”

“If I only knew you had a crush on me,” not letting you finish, he laughed softly, shaking his head as he let it hung for a moment before looking up at you. “You are gorgeous inside and out.” He paused and let his eyes wonder over your facial features. “Would you still want to grab a coffee with me? Is the game still on?” he muttered, his voice almost intimate.

“Yeah,” you breathed eagerly and you wanted to scream and shout from happiness. “Yes.”

He giggled and leaned in, still grinning, making you squeal from the proximity. “Baekhyun!”

He laughed. “Sorry! I wish I had the sunflowers that you drew... Thought I could at least smile at you like that. Just like you dreamt.”

You were red like a tomato, sweating and bothered. Was this really happening? Since when was he like this? And did this mean he liked you?

“And the kiss,” he teased. “Can be the next step.”

🎉🎊🎀

CuriousCat Ask box is also open! Or comments!💕

[marshmallow-phd]

Catching Rain

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Minseok x Reader

Summary: You were more than satisfied with your life. You attended a nice college, had nice friends, a nice boyfriend. That’s what your life was: nice. You weren’t looking for anything more, so what were you to do when this seemingly harmless boy walked into your life and turned your nice little world into one much more dangerous?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Epilogue

**

You parked on the side of an empty back road, careful not to stop in any spot that might be muddy. It hadn’t rained for a few days, but with the weather lately, you couldn’t be too careful. The last thing you needed was to have to call Erik and confess to him that you did indeed go out to the woods to take pictures and were now stuck in the mud and needed his help.

A small part of you felt guilty. His concern wasn’t completely unfounded. If he’d had gotten hurt working on a backdrop by himself, whether by falling off a ladder or being hit by a light, you would be hesitant about him doing it again. But each of you were your own person, right? Independent not codependent?

Okay, it was probably time to lay of the self-help books for a while. You took one modern philosophy class and it had been a downward spiral from there. Perhaps it was time to give the supernatural genre a try.

The trees smelled intoxicating. Mixed with the humidity in the air, it was the kind of scent that could outperform even the most expensive of perfumes. It was an aroma that surrounded you, engulfed you in its arms the further into the woods you went. The peaceful smile that pulled on the corners of your lips were automatic, involuntary. Not that you would fight if you could. Despite the rumors of wolves running around, you were comfortable here.

Deep within the forest, a wide, oval clearing full of browned wildflowers rested. Bits of green here and there tried to break through the foliage that had died during the harsh winter. Their odds of making it through might not have been great, but you admired their tenacity.

These clearings were common in the woods and yet, they were your favorite places to capture. From one angle, it could seem like you were lost in a fast labyrinth of Mother Nature. Another, a prairie that belonged to another region entirely. The possibilities were endless if you really thought about it. And each clearing, you’d discovered, was unique within itself. Its shape, the plants it held, the thickness of the grass. You knew you hadn’t found every one yet, but you were determined to someday. For now, though, you would have stick with this particular clearing that you had visited before, as it was close to the road for a quick getaway, should you need it.

Sliding the bags off your shoulder, you crouched down and dug through until you found your notebook. The pages were unlined, which allowed you to right down your thoughts and ideas at odd angles. To you, it gave the otherwise somewhat boring inside a more artistic aesthetic. The plain leather cover was soft in your hands, worn from the amount of use and abuse you’d put it through. It wasn’t exactly common for photographers to write out their ideas before shooting. Some drew out the scene they wanted to capture, trying out different angles in their imagination. Most didn’t do any sort of prep like this at all. But you preferred to write it out, especially since most of your ideas tended to come at the most inconvenient times. Scribbling down half-coherent words tended to be quicker than a sketch.

After a quick review of your latest ideas, you tossed the notebook down and turned on your camera. You took several test shots, adjusting each settling until you came to the look you were searching for. Long shots and close ups, you photographed nearly every square foot of that clearing in order to get that one picture. That one picture that took everyone’s breath away, that made them stop and tilt their head every which way in order to take the scene in at all possible viewpoints. You wanted to them to see the world the way you did.

So in tuned to what you were doing, you hadn’t noticed the pair of eyes watching you from the shadows. They gave off the faintest glow filled with curiosity as they hovered in the air. You snapped a few photos in their direction, still unaware of their presence, and then lowered the camera to look back on the shots. At first, when you clicked through the pictures, you didn’t notice the tiny amber dots that blended in with the foliage. But by the fourth picture, you stopped.

Never before had you been scared by this place. Then again, the only animals you’d ever encountered before were rabbits and deer and other mostly harmless critters. These did not look like the eyes of a friendly Disney sidekick. Ice ran down your spine. You couldn’t run. If it was a predator, that would only encourage it. So, you tried to remain as still as possible while lifting your eyes to the spot that the animal was hiding. Perhaps there was a chance that it wouldn’t sense your fear and would take your stare down as a reason to walk away.

No such luck.

The leaves under its paws rustled as it stepped forward into the sun.

A tannish wolf with a long black strip down its back revealed itself. But it didn’t look menacing. In fact, though you might have been fooling yourself, it seemed almost… curious? Confused? It was hard to read the expression since you couldn’t fully compare it to a human. With slow, thoughtful steps, it came closer. You tried to remain still, tried not to move. The strain was causing your legs to tremble slightly. Now, you felt tremendously stupid for not listening to Willa’s warning about wolves. Was this considered an ironic moment? You weren’t entirely sure since language arts had never been your strong suit.

Unable to keep you upright anymore, your legs gave out. At least you landed on your butt with your camera hanging safely around your neck. Your fingernails dug into the dirt next to you as the wolf came closer, still at that same cautious pace. Harder and harder, your heart pounded in your ears. The wolf paused for a few seconds before continuing on. Could it hear your terrified pulse? Silently, you said your goodbyes as the wolf erased all space between you. Its muzzle nudged your cheek, coming to a stop near your ear. It sniffed deeply, then jumped back.

Your eyes widened, somewhat relieved that it hadn’t pounced, but also confused. Why wasn’t it attacking? Why did it look spooked?

The wolf sat back, head tilting back and forth as it studied you. It made no threatening moves or sounds. The tips of its ears perked up and it let out a sound that was eerily similar to a scoff.

“I guess you’re not hungry then?” An odd thing to say out loud to an animal that couldn’t talk, but you blamed it on the shock of the whole situation.

The wolf responded with a short puff of air before lowering itself down to its stomach.

This was… surreal. All the other animals you’d ever encountered had either kept their distance or ran away at the slightest sound. And yet, here was this wolf, laying in front of you, not vicious or aggressive. It was almost… cute, in a way.

“You’re a strange creature,” you said out loud. The wolf apparently took that as a sign to come closer. Crawling on its stomach, it took came to the point where it was almost able to rest its head in your lap-

The shrill sound of your current favorite song ripped through the air. You gasped, jumping up to your feet and running to your bag where you desperately searched through the pockets until you found your phone. It was Willa.

“Hello?”

“Hey, where are you?”

“I, um,” you glanced at the wolf who had jumped up to its feet. “I got bored so I’m just out driving around. Why?”

“Jiyoung called and asked last second to switch shifts at the coffee shop and so I’m free for the evening. And I’m hungry.”

You laughed a little at her not-so-subtle hint. “Alright. Give me twenty minutes to get back to the dorm. How does brick oven pizza sound?”

“Like heaven.”

“Okay, then. See you soon.” You ended the call and looked up, meeting eyes with the wolf. It never broke contact and in turn, gave you a bit more bravery. Lifting up the camera, you snapped a single shot of the wolf. “I’ll be back.” A strange promise to make, but you said it anyway. You wanted another encounter with this mysterious creature. Gathering up your things, you hurried out of the clearing and back through the trees to your car, still sitting on the side of the road.

It took less than twenty minutes to make it back to the university. Back at the dorm, Willa was lying on her bed, scrolling through her phone mindlessly. She sat up as soon as you came through the door.

“Fun drive?” she asked.

You shrugged. “It was fine.”

“No exciting scenes to snap?”

Her tease made you roll your eyes. “No, not really. Now, come on. I thought you said you wanted to eat?”

Not missing a beat, Willa jumped up from the bed, snatched up her purse, and pulled you out of the room, contemplating out loud which signature pizza sounded good.

**

Minseok growled as he ran through the forest. How he could have possibly lost those three was beyond him. Being unable to find them now was even more stupefying. They were loud, how could he not know which direction to take? He had to be careful. This part of the forest was close to the back roads and Junmyeon was worried they were being spotted too often. If the three them weren’t paying attention-

Click. Click. Click.

Minseok brought himself to a halt at the strange sound. There wasn’t any sort of pattern to it, but there was an underlying shuttering that seemed vaguely familiar. Too curious to just ignore it, Minseok headed in the direction e suspected it came from. Once he found the answer, he’d go back to finding the others.

The sound led him to one of the many clearings in the woods. A person wandering around the area taking pictures seemed to be the source, a camera in their hands. You appeared to be alone. Odd since not many ventured out in the forest by themselves. The isolation didn’t seem to bother you, though as you carelessly went about your task.

Staying in the shadows, Minseok watched your back as you continued to photograph the nature around you. Something… something strange was tingling in his shoulders, like the muscle beneath the skin had fallen asleep. Without prompt from him, his paw moved forward. He should be leaving. Be gone before you spotted him. But he couldn’t do it. Something told him to wait.

That’s when you turned around. By the way you kept taking pictures, you hadn’t seen him. It wasn’t until you lowered the camera to review the film did you freeze. And you weren’t the only one.

Something in Minseok’s world snapped when he saw your face. His muscles contracted, shivered and ached.

Go! an inner voice urged. He tried to turn his body in the opposite direction of you, but failed. Not that way! He had no choice but to obey. So he stepped closer to you. Your eyes snapped up, meeting his own. In his chest, his heart accelerated. What was this? What was going on?

Slightly fighting each movement, Minseok broke out from the tree line and into the clearing. It was obvious you were frightened. And he was breaking all the rules by revealing himself. Logic could not win, however. He kept walking. Even after you fell backwards, he was only able to pause for a brief second. Your rapidly beating heart was loud in his own sensitive ears. But he wasn’t so sure that it was completely out of fear. He needed to be closer. So closer he went. The whiskers of his muzzle brushed against your cheek, sending a lightning bolt through his body. He took in your scent and reeled back. 

You smelled human. You were human. But… there’s something different about you and he couldn’t fathom what it might be. 

“I guess you’re not hungry then?” you said oddly. 

Minseok laughed. Well, as much as he could with this ribcage and these vocal cords. Overwhelmed, he adjusted to a more comfortable position. The feeling in his chest was almost all consuming and it weighed him down. He’d seen plenty of humans on his runs, but this had never happened before. Was this something that would only happen because he was in his wolf form? Or would he still feel like this if he saw you on two legs?

With a glimmer in your eye, you sighed, “You’re a strange creature.” 

Taking that as sign, he tested the waters and pulled himself across the grass with his front paws, closing the gap between you. 

A song suddenly cut through the air and forced him to a stop before he could rest his head in your lap - an action that he was itching to try out. You jumped up with a gasp and ran to the bags resting at the bottom of a tree. Frantically, you searched the pockets until you found the source of the noise, answering the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, where are you?” asked a female voice on the other end. 

“I, um,” you glanced over him, making him jump to his feet. Will you tell your friend the truth?  “I got bored so I’m just out driving around. Why?”

He almost let out a sigh from relief. Talk of an overly friendly wolf would be bad, especially if it spread through town and more people ventured into the woods to try and encounter him. 

“Jiyoung called and asked last second to switch shifts at the coffee shop and so I’m free for the evening. And I’m hungry.”

You laughed. “Alright. Give me twenty minutes to get back to the dorm. How does brick oven pizza sound?”

“Like heaven.”

“Okay, then. See you soon.” You hung up the call and met his eyes again. Impulsively, you took one last picture of him, which he didn’t shy away from. “I’ll be back,” you promised softly. 

Minseok could no longer feel the ground beneath him. He just stood there, watching as you ran through the trees in the direction of the road. When his senses came back to him, he noticed a small brown square hidden among the tan grass. He went closer to inspect what the object was. It was a notebook. 

It must be yours. 

Scooping the leather-bound book in his mouth, he took off after you. Following your scent through the forest was easy – it stood out like a pink flower in a sea of green grass. But he wasn’t quick enough. He caught the sight of your tail lights far down the road. He would have to keep a hold of the notebook until he saw you again. You did say that you would be back. 

Or you could track her down? 

Minseok shook that thought away. How would he ever explain that without giving away his true nature?

Giving up for the time being, he turned around and decided to head back to the house. There was no way he could find the others now. And with you gone, the elated feeling disappeared, leaving him weighted as if he were being dragged down into the earth. Each step was anchored down. It took him much longer to get back to the farm house. 

Several other members were scattered about the house, either working on their studies or clowning around. Your notebook tucked between his clothes and held close to his chest, he headed up to his room. After a quick shower, he got dressed once again and sat on the end of his bed. In his hands, he flipped the notebook over and over. He contemplated opening it. But that would be invading, wouldn’t it? But he wanted to find out about you. 

So he pulled open the cover. 

Inside, in the top right hand corner of the first page was your name. He smiled, saying it softly over and over. It felt… right on his lips. Your face hovered in his mind. It fit you so well, like a jacket tailored with perfection. 

The nature of wolves was an odd kind. There was a constant urge to belong. To belong to a pack and then… to belong to a person. 

Ever since he was young, he was told about how someday he find that special person whose soul was connected to his. Fate predetermined who that person would be and no one could ever fill the void that existed until that person came along. Ordinary humans would never experience that kind of feeling, that kind of love. The type of love for the wolf that could only be given by one person. 

A mate. 

Was that what you were? None of his brothers were mated. They were all free – some taking more advantage of the situation than others. Occasionally, they would joke about who would be first. Some thought it might be Yixing, given his soft heart and the genuine warmth he radiated. Others liked to joke that it would be Baekhyun or Jongin, the big serial daters of the pack. Minseok, though, had his money set on Jongdae. That wolf had barely been able to give in to the call of the pack when he first joined them all. He was verbally against the idea of mating, more so than anyone else. Opening up to people was not a strong suit of the younger wolf and Minseok couldn’t wait to see what kind of journey that would be once he was forced to. 

Minseok would have been the last person on everyone’s mind for the mated list. Not for any malicious reasons, just because he didn’t venture out very much beyond school so the odds of meeting someone new were low. Or so he thought. He liked being out at the house, being home. He was the very definition of “homebody”. Ironic that he ended up meeting you out here. 

Knock, knock, knock. 

He looked up and quickly hid the notebook beneath his pillows, just in time before Junmyeon, the alpha, peaked his head in. “Minseok?”

“Yeah?”

Junmyeon looked back towards the hallway. “Yeah, he’s in here!” he yelled. “Tell Jongdae to stop worrying!” 

Minseok laughed. Naturally, they leave him behind but then they get worried. He was the eldest, always looking after the others. And yet, oftentimes, it didn’t feel like that. 

Where he thought that might be the end of the checkup, Junmyeon, instead, closed the door behind him and sat down on the bed beside him. 

“Everything okay?” he asked. 

Minseok nodded. “Yeah, of course. Why?”

“I saw the look on your face when you came in,” Junmyeon explained. “You looked troubled.”

The two of them weren’t the closet out of the whole pack. In fact, there were times where it was awkward between them, the role of the alpha and the role of eldest clashing at times. But other times, he was the best one to turn to. 

“What do you know about the mating aspect of us?” 

Junmyeon pursed his lips, thinking. “The mating aspect? Only the basics, really. That when you meet that one person, that’s it. And you’re supposed to live happily ever after.” He laughed at the cheesy line, releasing some of the tension. 

Minseok couldn’t help but laugh along. It died out soon, though, as his mind went back to his current dilemma. “They always say you just know after one look. Do you think that’s right?”

“Yes, I do,” the alpha confirmed. “That’s all it takes. You feel it in here.” He tapped his chest, right about his heart. “Minseok? Why are you asking about this?”

He weighed his options. If this wasn’t what he thought it was and the others found out, he would never hear the end of it from them. But having someone validate his theory would ease some of the strain. 

“I think I found her.”

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 36- Addows

(what’s this, a chapter on monday? Yes! Starting today and for the foreseeable future, LoL will now update mondays and fridays! Hopefuly it will gain more attention when it updates more often,,,)

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

If the hermits hope to enter the most dangerous place in Lairyon, they need to know about the Forest of Memories. Xisuma, Cub, and Joe venture to the haunted city of Addows in search of information.

____________________________________

Mist swirls around Xisuma, his vision obscured by the thick fog of the city. Old, ancient buildings are all around him, once a city of the ancient ones still alive with the people of Lairyon. Massive stone temples, graveyards for heroes and legends, buildings with no known purpose that now house creeds and clairvoyants. 

Addows is a home of ghosts. Ghosts of the past, present in both tomes that the temples and libraries hold, and actual spirits that wander the eternally misty street. No one is spooked by the spooks, just another face in the crowd. 

And it’s the perfect place for the hermits to dig up ancient knowledge. If anywhere would have information on the Forest of Memories, it would be the hallowed halls of Addows. Cub creeps closer to Xisuma, not quite sure if he likes not being able to see more than a few feet in front or behind him. He’s sure there’s some sort of proverb that Joe would spew at him about this and the past or whatever, but right now he doesn’t want to hear it. Joe, meanwhile, is loving this atmosphere. The spooky vibes, the aged buildings and haunting people. He could write entire novels about this place, how much it fits his aesthetic. He may just have to build a new library on Eremita to match this.  Plus, his fuzzy cloak is comfortable and fits in well with the shadowed passersby. 

The three hermits wander the streets, walking through the midday mist, watching as buildings appear from nothing and disappear once again. Joe gets distracted every once in awhile on a witch’s shop, books older than the kingdom, apothecaries with all kinds of rare materials, and about a dozen different colored candles. And lots of rocks. TFC would have a field day. 

But after what feels like both hours and seconds of walking down the twisting streets of the ancient city, they finally arrive where they need to be. A building so old that the rain and forest has weathered it down, and a whole new layer of detritus has turned to dirt, ferns, trees, and vines growing down the massive stone pillars. In the weathered carving, the purpose of the ancient building remains the same. It’s a library, the largest in all the kingdom and filled with the most extensive, the most knowledgeable, and the most ancient of works. In languages long dead and unrevivable, written by ghost writers that now haunt these halls, and recounted by the living and the dead that wander the stacks. 

“And a delightful young adult section with some of my favorite works for young readers.” Joe hums. “Anything, and I mean anything-” He pauses, letting Xisuma and Cub fill in what he means, “can be found in the national library of Addows.” 

“That means if there’s anywhere that will tell us how to handle the Forest of Memories, or what could be hiding in there, it’s here.” Xisuma wanders down the stacks. All three hermits itch to reach out and pull books of their favorite genres or authors. Cub wants to dive into the deep end of the ancient ones history. Xisuma wants to study the great works of the best astronomers. And Joe wants to read the most mind boggling pieces that make absolutely no sense. He loves that feeling of being left confused about what he just read. 

They search the tomes, from geography to history, history to science. They search every section- even the young adult section. Cub resorts to portaling around rather than running the worn stone stairs, but to no avail. In the end, all three of the hermits are sitting in an alcove of ferns and vines, staring out over the thick misted city. 

“It wasn’t in anything. Has no one ever written about the Forest of Memories?” Xisuma grumbles, pulling off his mask. It’s not like there’s any sun, he doesn’t need his brother’s creation. 

“Someone had to. It’s been around for eons and is nestled in the heart of Lairyon. I can think of so many epics that could rely solely upon those two aspects.” Joe speaks with his head on his hands, looking over the library. Where haven’t they checked? “I’m starting to think it’s not even real, just a bunch of folktales.” 

Silence, until Cub’s eyes light up. “Folktales! Where do you put everything that you don’t know or understand?” 

“In the trash bin?” Joe’s dry humor is not lost on Xisuma, but Cub is too excited. 

“The folklore!” Cub summons his magic, a portal opening between the hermits, taking them to the very entrance of the library. The beginning of it all. He jumps through, skidding into a cracked pillar, but the stone is held fast by roots of the forest. Joe and Xisuma follow after, the portal collapsing behind them. 

“Forest….forest...forest…” Cub whispers, running his fingers along books, scrolls, even just tablets of stone. “Forest, Evernight. Nope. Forest, Creation of. No…” 

He stops, fingers coming to rest on a manuscript. Two wood planks pressing fabric pages together. It has no written title, but the front of the book is a tree with it’s branches intertwined like that of a brain. Cub grabs the manuscript, opening it with fervor. “Godsdamnit.” 

“What’s wrong now?” Xisuma sighs, peering over the portal mage’s shoulder. But the symbols scrawled on the fabric are meaningless to them both. Not even Joe, who purveys in ancient and useless knowledge, has no ability to read the book. 

“Ahh, The Journey to the Center of Lairyon’s Mind. A very good work. Quite dense.” All three hermits shriek, echoing in the quiet library as a misty head appears through the bookshelves. They should have been prepared for a ghost, but in the heat of the moment, they forgot they were in the most haunted city in the kingdom.

“H-have you read this? Can you r-read this language?” Joe holds the book out. 

The ghost steps through the shelves, her hand becoming solid enough to hold up the piece. “It’s old kipling. Before they integrated into one oceanic script. Back in the early days, when Lairyon was just a bunch of warring nations. Ah, the oceans were so peaceful in comparison.” 

“What does the author say? What does this mean?” Joe points at the fine print of a page that the kipling opened. 

“It’s the dedication! It’s to me!” She laughs, ghostly fin ruffling with joy. “My wife was such a wonderful author, she is still curious to this day.” 

Xisuma surges up to the ghost, no longer afraid. “The author, she’s still here? Where is she?” 

“Why, I’m sure she’s moping around our gravestone, waiting for me to come back so she can tell me more stories that she picked up from the other ghosts.” The kipling ghost pauses. “Would you like to meet her, or rather just read through this dingy old book? Why not meet the real adventurer Cielle DuNord? Bravest woman ever, only person to enter the heart of the Forest of Memories and come back sane. At least...only recorded person.” 

From the oldest library, the hermits follow the bouncing kipling down the street to the oldest cemetery. Sometimes they lose sight of her in the fog, her ghostly figure becoming a part of the mist and disappearing. But it just takes a laugh and a call from Lady Nellaime, her dress swaying like kelp in the waves, and they’re back on track. The misty glen opens to reveal ancient tombs and stones, but Nellaime waltzes through the historic graveyard as she would saunter through a flower garden. 

Despite the spooky feeling, it’s not scary. The hermtis feel a sense of calm respect among the gates. Rare flowers bloom at the entrances of mausoleums, trees sprouting from burial mounds. Candles provide light along the well cared pathway, and a child runs by, smiling as he trips and hugs an ancestor’s gravestone. 

From the mist, a glowing form appears, hugging the boy back. The ghost settles down in the grass, chatting with the family. Nellie continues past, deeper into the heart of the graveyard, seemingly bigger on the inside. The tombs age the deeper they walk, until Nellie stops at a raised crypt. Carved in the ancient coral stone, two smiling faces rest on their backs, the women’s hands intertwined at the center. Nellie skips onto the tombstone, knocking on the nose of the other kipling. “My sweet Cielle, you have visitors! More fans of yours!”

The eyes blink open, misty blue lashes fluttering. A noncorporeal form drifts from the stone crypt, dress flowing from existing to not, strong arms reaching over and hugging her wife. “You always make friends so fast. Living or dead, you just make people smile. Just like lighting up my life, my little ghost light.” 

“Not in front of guests.” Nellie giggles, her fins fluttering from the sweet kiss. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure of such…” Cielle looks the three up and down. “Unique visitors upon my grave?” 

“Are you really the only person who has made it out of the Forest of Memories alive?” Xisuma wastes no time, which causes both ladies to titter.

“No, though I know Nellie here likes to be hyperbolic. Quite a few people have gone into the Forest without going crazy. But you have to be prepared to enter in.” Cielle leans forward, tugging a ghostly finger through Xisuma’s hair like a mother combing a child’s hair. 

“Prepare? What kind of spells do we need? Weapons?” Cub flips through the pages of the book, but it’s in a completely unknown language to him. 

“You can prepare yourself physically as long as you like, but it won’t do much. You have to prepare yourself mentally.” Cielle taps her head, and giggles. “See, for me, all I had to do was think about my fiancee back in Corelpi. I dunno how, but it was like a walk through a garden.” 

“But there is one place that knows all about the Forest of Memories. Where the most people have entered and returned relatively sane.” Nellaime grins, a few locks of hair falling from her messy bun. Cielle reaches over and fixes the loose locks. “Fielville!” 

“Of course,” Xisuma slaps his hand on his head, leaving a bright red mark on his skin. “Druids, insectia, the oldest traditions from the ancient ones are still practiced there.” 

“The elder there has entered and exited the Forest of Memories more than even I have- but then again, she lives longer than me, which isn’t fair.” Cielle sits back. “But be warned- no matter how prepared you think you are for that wood, it will be nothing compared to the true might of the forest. You will return with whatever trove you are in search of-” She pauses. “Or you will not return at all.”

[bloodpacks-archive]

together

Word Count: 1.4k :) it’s a short one

Summary: Mornings with him and nights with her. That’s all they need.

Warnings: none! Just a lot of fluff :)

Note: Idk man I wrote this today bc I was soft and wanted a boyfriend and I didn’t get lilah to read over this so it might be AWFUL who knows

She wakes up to the feeling of Tom tracing patterns up and down her arms. She lets her eyes slowly flutter open, getting a glimpse of the sunlight shining through the curtains. She groans a bit at the feeling of the sun in her eyes, turning away from the window and towards Tom, who chuckles a bit at the way she buries her head into the crook of his neck.

“Morning,” He whispers, his voice coated in the sound of sleep. She feels him press a kiss to the top of her head, and so she takes a moment to look up at him, dealing with the bright light of their room.

He’s got a bit of a smile as he looks down at her, curly brown hair flopping in front of his face as he leans over to look at her. His eyes look tired, but his smile reaches them, giving his entire face this feeling of brightness that she wishes she could keep forever. He leans down, pressing a short kiss to her lips. His hair tickles the top of her head, making soft giggles leave her lips.

“I thought you were going to the gym today,” She says as he leans back, now propped up on his elbow. She reaches a hand up, absentmindedly messing with his curls while they talk. He hums, leaning into her touch just a bit.

“Missing one day won’t hurt. Besides,” he grabbed her hand that was playing with his hair, intertwining their fingers and pressing his lips to the back of her hand, “I wanted to stay in bed with you for a little longer.”

A smile reaches her face, and she leans up to press another short kiss to his lips. He leans his forehead against hers, taking a moment to just look into her eyes. She watches as he studies her, brown eyes flicking over her face.

“I love you,” He whispers, and then presses a kiss to her cheek. “You know that, right?”

“You only remind me everyday,” She replies. She sees something flicker across his face, and then he leans closer to her once more.

“I think I should say it more often,” He says, and then presses a kiss to her temple. “I love you.” He presses another kiss to her cheek. “I love you.” And then another to her lips. “I love you.” He continues to press short kisses across her face and her jawline, letting her laughter fill the room.

“Okay, Tiger, you love me,” She replies, laughter coating her voice. Tom moves away, pouting at her. A laugh escapes her and she rolls her eyes. “You know I love you.”

“You should definitely say it more,” Tom says. She laughs again, shaking her head at him. She raises a hand, moving it through his hair, until she lightly cups his face. His head leans on her hand, eyes closing slowly as he leans into her.

“I love you,” She whispers. “So much.” Tom smiles at that, and finally decides to get up. She watches as he moves, only whining a little bit when he leaves the bed cold.

“You know, you could get up too,” He says. She narrows her eyes at him, still watching as he moves about the room.

“I could, but it’s comfortable here.” Tom walks over to her side of the bed, arms crossed and eyebrows raised as he looks down at her.

“Come on,” He says, reaching an arm out to her. She rolls her eyes at him a bit, but there’s a smile on her face when she grabs his hand. He pulls her up, and she stumbles a bit as she stands, leaning onto Tom for support.

“It’s cold now,” She says, looking up at Tom. He shakes his head and then moves to grab one of his sweatshirts, lightly tossing it at her from across the room.

“You’re impossible,” He teases as he makes his way out of their room.

“But you love me!” She shouts in reply. She only hears his laugh from the other side of the wall, and she smiles as she walks to their bathroom to take a quick shower.

—————

Later that night, they’re both sitting on the couch, silence settling between them as rain hits the windows. She has her computer in front of her, the quiet tap of her keyboard accompanying the rain. Tom’s sitting next to her, his head resting on her shoulder, watching her work.

“You’re so smart,” He mumbles. She turns her head to look at him, and he raises his head up to look her in the eyes. They’re a different kind of tired than they were this morning. His eyes are almost shut, but he’s still got that soft smile on his face. She kisses him, just for a moment, and Tom groans when she moves away again, so he falls against her, his head buried in the crook of her neck.

Her hands move to the back of his head, lightly playing with his hair, and humming some soft song in his ear.

“Why don’t you go to bed, hon?” She asks. Tom shakes his head, moving up again to look at her.

“I don’t want to go to bed yet,” He replies. She smiles at him, but moves her computer off her lap, and starts to get up.

“Come on,” She says, and she holds her hand out to him. Tom takes her hand, and she helps him stand up. He leans against her as they walk to their bathroom. They both brush their teeth, and then Tom’s leaning on her again as they walk into their bedroom. He almost falls onto their bed, but he makes sure to pull her down with him. She laughs, and Tom’s leaning on his side, hugging her so tight that she almost can’t move.

“What’s got you so tired?” She moves one hand so she can move the hair out of his face again. His eyes are closed, but he manages to keep his tight grip on her. Tom shrugs his shoulders, moving closer again so he can tuck his head into the crook of her neck.

“I’m gonna marry you someday,” He mumbles. Her heart stops for a moment, and she’s almost positive that she didn’t hear that correctly.

“I’m gonna need you to say that again,” She replies. He sits up, apparently feeling much more awake, and looks over her face. He grabs her hand, tracing little patterns on the back of it as he repeats himself.

“One day,” he starts, and he places a kiss on her ring finger, “I’m gonna marry you.”

A smile takes over her face, and she moves closer to him, letting him continue to play with her fingers.

“Is this your proposal?” She asks, teasing him just a bit.

“Not yet,” He says. He starts to play with her ring finger again, looking down at it. “I have to get you a ring first. It’ll be the prettiest ring I can find, something that really fits you.” He looks back up at her, and there’s a bit of blush on his cheeks as he talks.

There’s a few things that run through her head in that moment. She loves how cute he looks like this, almost sheepish in appearance but confidence in his voice. And she wants to kiss him, really wants to kiss him.

And so she pulls him closer, and kisses him. Really kisses him this time. It’s soft, and sweet, and both of them are smiling a bit through it.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll be glad to marry you too,” She whispers as they pull away.

“You better. I can’t find someone else who puts up with me,” He replies, a smirk gracing his face. Her arms are now loosely hanging around his neck, both of them smiling just slightly as they talk. Her eyes flit over his face again. Rosy cheeks, bright brown eyes, and that one messed up eyebrow (she swears she’ll fix it one day). A smile takes over her face again as she looks over him again and again. He’s a bit tanner from the summer, and he’s got little freckles starting to dot across his nose.

He leans in again, and starts to place kisses along her face, and then down her neck. She laughs again, and just wraps her arms around him while he hums softly into her neck.

“You want to marry me?” She asks.

“Everyday,” He replies.

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[ericsonclan]

Winter Market

Summary: The Ericson Pirates go to a marketplace to get gifts to celebrate each other and the time of year.

Word Count: 5494

Read on AO3:

It was getting to the end of the year. The days flew by and with it so did the seasons. At least that’s what the Ericson Pirates had heard in other areas in the world. But here on the seven seas every day was rarely different. Most days were rather sunny with small specks of clouds drifting through the sky, other days the clouds would take over more parts of the bright blue sky and on occasion rain would drizzle from the heavens. Today, however, was an ordinary day on Ol’ Kickass. The sun shone brightly, beaming down of the different crew members who went about their daily tasks. Except today there was a brighter energy surrounding the crew, more excited and giddy than usual. For today they were sailing towards Salisly Wharf, a port town that according to Louis had the most beautiful marketplace in this corner of the seas. The captain had even heard rumors that during the wintertime their marketplace threw together an even more dazzling array of trinkets and such to sell.

“Marlon!” Willy leaned over from his perch in the crow’s nest. “I see the port town!”

“That’s great, Willy!” The blond pirate smiled up at his friend. “Shout out the coordinates for me.”

Willy nodded and within seconds he was giving instructions to Marlon who did his best to steer the ship. Louis called out to his crew, giving the appropriate directions to safely dock Ol’ Kickass. Each pirate moved around efficiently, their years on the seven seas were evident in how smoothly they worked together. After a half hour they had safely docked the ship and with the joint effort of Sophie, Brody and Ruby the anchor had securely been placed.

“Alrighty,” Louis jumped up on the side of the ship, his black boots barely holding him upright. Snatching a rope and twirling it around his arm, he leaned aesthetically to greet his crew. “Today is a special day. This is a day about fun and that’s it. There are only two rules,” The pirate captain held up two fingers. “One, no trying to sneak peeks at others’ purchases. You’ll just have to wait for the gift exchange happening later on. Two, stick with your buddy and don’t do anything to get caught.”

The Ericson Pirates all nodded and chattered in agreement. They were pretty standard rules, each pirate knew that the last thing they needed was another spot to mark on their map to not return to. Some of the crew seemed especially serious about this rule, especially Brody and Ruby who didn’t want to lose a potentially great marketplace for another misunderstanding. The pirates all exited the ship, walking down onto the docks having already split off into their different groups. Sophie led the way with Willy and AJ who giggled and dragged the redhead forward to get to the marketplace fast. The others watched in amusement when AJ accidentally pulled too hard on one of Sophie’s braces. The leather thumb brace slid off, causing the young teen to land on his butt with a small thunk. AJ blinked for a second when Willy devolved into a fit of laughter. AJ and Sophie joined in before their young crewmate got up on his feet and returned the brace.

“I’m sorry,” AJ’s eyes glanced up at Sophie before falling.

Sophie gave a chuckle and ruffled his hair. “Nah, it’s my bad. Didn’t secure it right,” she smiled before working to readjust her brace. Marlon was about to step forward and help his wife but stopped when he saw that Willy was already helping Sophie.

“Gotta make sure that the straps are tight, okay?” Willy stuck his tongue out as he worked to adjust the brace. “There!”

“Thanks,” Sophie patted the lanky teen’s head. “Alright, time to shop.” With that the three sprinted off ahead of the others. The trio stopped when they had reached the marketplace, looking at it with large eyes that sparkled in awe. Booths of all shapes and sizes filled the town square. More colors than the mind could comprehend danced around here and there as live music played by the central fountain. Townsfolk were dancing and spinning around the fountain while light blue and white petals covered not only the pavement of the market area but also were placed along different buildings and stalls.

“This. Is. So. Cool!” Willy jumped up and down. “Look at that!” He pointed at a booth with different weapons. “That booth is cool too!” He gestured over to a booth that held different metal trinkets decorated with a variety of symbols.

AJ did a little dance and spun around. “I want to check out every stand!”

“Okay,” Sophie smiled happily, her hands lazily placed behind her head. Her gentle blue eyes wandered around, taking in every single aspect of the marketplace. To think that she would be able to enjoy a day like this with all of her closest friends and with her husband. Sophie glanced back and shared a smile with Marlon. It was more than she ever expected to be able to have in her lifetime. She looked back at the marketplace, a soft laugh escaping her lips when Willy and AJ argued over who had won the race to the water fountain when she noticed a striking yet soft shade of blue. A shade she had never seen before. It captivated the redhead pirate who wandered over towards it with eyes that danced with wonder.

“Ah, I see you have taken a liking to the Heart of the Sea,” The seller’s voice snapped Sophie back into reality.

“Oh yes, I’ve never seen a blue like this before,” Sophie cautiously reached forward and picked up the container of blue powdered dust. The salesman gave a hearty laugh.

“I should hope not. That powder is harvested from the seashells of Salisly Wharf. You’ll not find a shade of blue like that anywhere else on the seven seas.”

Sophie studied the powder with curiosity. It seemed like a thing Tenn would like. It would still be a little while before she could visit Halverport but still she could just imagine the look in Tenn’s eyes when he received her gift, the excitement and curiosity that would dance within them. He could even use it to paint the walls of the cottage with Minnie. It would certainly brighten them up and bring a new energy to the place.

“Maybe a demonstration would help convince you,” The man took the container and dipped two of his fingers into the dust. Using the rock to his left he began to draw a picture with the blue. It really was a beautiful color. After a minute the display of the item was done and the man gave a charming smile. “So?”

“I’ll take it,” Sophie reached into her coin pouch and produced the right amount of ducats. She walked happily with her purchase, tucking it away in her side pouch before the realization struck her that she could’ve probably bartered for a better deal. She didn’t have time to focus on that though as WIlly and AJ came barreling forward towards the older pirate. The pair looked like they could burst with excitement.

“We found a perfect gift for Omar!” Willy exclaimed, his hands shooting up in the air.

“Not so loud,” AJ scolded with a small frown. “What if he heard you?” Willy covered his mouth, muffling the sorry he said before he continued in a whisper. “We found a booth that sells cooking stuff.” Sophie’s eyes widened and a soft smile appeared on her lips. “Say no more. Lead the way.” With that confirmation, the two guided their friend towards the booth.

---

“Having trouble finding a gift?” Marlon asked, his question pulling Aasim away from his thoughts.

“Yes, I want it to be perfect for Ruby.”

“Makes sense,” Louis poked his head forward. “It's gonna be tough finding stuff for Clem and AJ.”

Aasim nodded and continued his search. The three stopped here and there, looking at different trinkets and colorful baubles but nothing seemed to satisfy the level of quality which Aasim desired for his gift to his wife.

“Well, have you spotted anything for Sophie, Marlon?” Louis smiled over at his best friend who shook his head.

“Nope, I’m not really sure what I would get,” His hand wandered over and started to play with his small braided ponytail. “She’d want something simple but I also want it to be nice, so she thinks it's special and not some throwaway gift,” Marlon’s eyes focused on the ground when he felt a soft jab to his side.

“Aww come on, Marlon. No need to get down about it. Any gift you give Sophie will be great.” Louis’ kind words brightened his best friend’s spirit. The blond pirate was about to respond when Aasim let out a small gasp. His brown eyes were completely captured by a tiny stall that held only a few spare trinkets here and there. Silently the pirate moved forward and stared deeply at something on the table.

“What's gotcha so starstruck, Aasim?” Louis wandered over and snuck a glance at the item in question. There on the table was a small brooch. It was a delicate item. The light silver swirled around in a circle, small white gemstones appearing here and there on the silver line. Every so often dark blue gemstones appeared in the shape of leaves.

Marlon let out a whistle, clearly impressed. “You’ve got quite the eye for gifts, Aasim.”

Aasim didn't seem to register his friend’s voice as he held up the brooch. The sunlight caught the blue gems and made them sparkle in the light.

“I see you’ve got quite the eye.” The seller gave a warm smile. “That there is one of my finest pieces in all the years I’ve been selling at this marketplace.”

“It’s beautiful,” Aasim whispered in response, his breath caught in his throat. “It will contrast beautifully with Ruby’s fiery hair. I must have it. Name your price and I’ll pay it.”

Those words made the saleswoman’s smile grow. Even though Aasim had said he’d pay any price though he still haggled to get a good deal on the brooch. After a heated ten minutes of bartering he strolled away, gently tucking away his gift that he had gotten for two thirds its original price.

“Okay, one present down. One, two…” Louis counted on his fingers. “A whole lot more to get. So, Marlon let’s find those perfect gifts too.” “Yeah!” Marlon high fived Louis and the two walked with determination as Aasim walked behind, too caught up in the excitement of the gift exchange and Ruby’s reaction to care about anything else.

After around ten minutes of searching Marlon suddenly stopped in his tracks and made a beeline to a booth that held different articles of clothing.

“Oh, getting Sophie some fancy new clothes?” Louis wiggled his eyebrows playfully before Aasim nudged his side.

“”What?” Marlon glanced back at his friends. “I’m gonna get her this,” He held up a dark blue bandana. Aasim and Louis looked unimpressed by their friend’s choice.

“That’s it?” Aasim crossed his arms. “I thought you’d pick a nice dress or something.”

“But Sophie would use this more often. Besides I think it would really bring out her eyes.” A small blush covered the blond pirate’s face. “I’m gonna go for it.” Marlon tossed over the coins and smiled down at his purchase. Knowing Sophie, she’d love this gift and instantly wrap the bandana over her head. That mental image made the smile on his face grow.

“Okay,” Louis shrugged but gave a supportive smile. “I’m sure she’ll love it.”

Marlon beamed at his friend’s approval. “Thanks, Lou! Now just gotta grab some snacks for Rosie as thanks for guarding the ship.” Marlon led the way, Louis and Aasim strolling behind as the dreadlocked pirate continued his search for his gifts.

----

Clementine looked around with a small frown. There were too many good options here. She could name five different trinkets that Louis would like, a new set of boots that would look great on him, a hat that he would easily wear all the time but none felt like the gift. The pirate grumbled and kicked aside a pebble as she moved towards the fountain. Omar and Ruby soon joined her and the group sat in silence before the cook spoke up.

“Can’t find a good gift for Louis?”

“I’ve found plenty of ‘good’ gifts but I want to give him something special,” Clementine let her face fall into her hands.

“Awww, sug,” Ruby wrapped Clementine up in a side hug. “I’m sure you’ll find the perfect gift in no time!” Clementine smiled brightly at her friend's kind words when the sounds of a new song started nearby. A flute played a delicate tune before the hurdy gurdy joined in. It sounds like the start of a beautiful, thoughtful dance when out of nowhere the sound of an accordion broke through the air. Clementine lifted up her head, quirking an eyebrow at the odd musical choice when she saw that no one in the group near where the townsfolk that were dancing was playing anything like that instrument.

Her golden brown eyes searched until they landed on a man who was by a stand filled to the brim and then some with different musical instruments. In his hands was a concertina made with light brown wood that glistened in the sunlight. The man’s fingers danced on the small metal buttons on the side, causing a lively, joyful tone to pour out of the musical instrument. A small smile instantly appeared on Clementine’s lips as her ears perked up at the music. It reminded her of Louis. That was it. Clementine jumped up from her spot and strode over to the man who stopped his playing when she drew near.

“Hello, there. Care for an instrument?” He asked, beginning another tune on the concertina.

“Yes, I’m wondering how much that one costs?” Clementine pointed towards the concertina, causing the seller to stop his playing.

“The price is right over there,” He nodded over to a small display sign that made the pirate’s heart drop. That was more than all the money she was carrying. The man placed down the instrument and leaned against the stand. “I could knock off a few ducats for you.”

“A few won’t help,” Clementine mumbled and gave a deep sigh. She had found the perfect gift for Louis. She could just picture the smile on his face as he played happy tunes all along the deck of Ol’ Kickass but it seemed like reality wouldn’t make that picture true.

“ I can help,” AJ’s voice appeared beside Clementine, making her nearly jump on the spot.

“AJ, you nearly scared me half to death. Whatcha doing here, kiddo? I thought you were with Sophie and Willy.”

“I was,” AJ began to fidget with his fingers. “We found the perfect gift for Omar,” he whispered as he did a little happy dance. He pointed over excitedly at Willy and Sophie who were carrying a small cauldron along with a few pieces of parchment that stuck out of it.

“I’m sure he’ll love it,” Clementine smiled at AJ whose smile grew at the approval. “Anyway, you were saying you could help? Sorry, goofball, but I think a few ducats won’t do it.”

“I have more than a few,” AJ grunted and lifted up a medium coinpuch and plopped it on the stall counter. A loud clank appeared from the bag as coins shifted from inside. Clementine and the seller stared in disbelief at the bag of ducats.

“AJ,” Clementine looked over. “How do you have this many coins?”

“I’ve been saving up for a long time. Plus I got a ton from that last quest I went on with Marlon, Violet and Mitch. The one with the weird monkeys!”

Clementine blinked at AJ for a few seconds, clearly still processing the large amount of ducats in front of her. “Are you sure it’s okay to use some of the coins? It’s your money.”

AJ nodded and put his hands on his hips. “Yep, it's for Louis and I wanna help make sure he gets good gifts. It’ll show him he’s a good captain and besides, he loves music.”

Clementine chuckled. “He really does. Alright, we’ll say it's from both of us then.” Clementine turned back to the salesman and began the heated process of slicing down the absurd price. It was a long and dull process but eventually Clementine had gotten the gift.

AJ stared in awe for a minute before his eyes grew large. “Oh! I should go back with my buddies. I don’t wanna break the rules.” AJ gave Clementine a quick hug then scampered off over to where Sophie and Willy were busy feasting on some meat skewers. As soon as they caught sight of the youngest Ericson pirate they turned to get some more food for him. Clementine’s nose crinkled from joy at the sight then moved back to the water fountain where Omar and Ruby were still sitting, talking passionately about the joys of cooking and medicine.

-----

Louis was on the right track, he knew it. He had spotted the perfect stall to find something for AJ. The pirate captain pushed back his coat and placed his hands on his hips while he stared intently at the weapons before him. It was about time that AJ got a weapon he could call his own and not have to keep crafting those makeshift shivs that broke after a few uses. Louis’ eyes darted around left and right before he began to look for the right fit of weaponry for AJ. He paused to survey the marketplace; he didn’t want that little man anywhere nearby so he wouldn’t spoil his gift.

After a minute of searching it looked like the littlest of the crew was nowhere to be seen. That was until Louis spotted him doing his signature dance in the square. AJ slid backwards to the sound of the energetic music, his feet moving this way and that as his eyes were closed. AJ always got so caught up in the music no matter what type it was. Beside him was Sophie who was doing a jig with Willy who for some reason had what looked like a cooking pot of some sort on the top of his head. The redhead laughed as Willy kicked his legs and danced around her before dragging in AJ who giggled as the pair began to have a dance off with Sophie. Louis smiled at the sight. It was nice to see them all smiling like this. Moments like this were what made Louis realize how lucky he was to have been able to find the crew that he did. All these years and he still felt as happy as the day he left his home on the stolen merchant ship with Marlon and the street rats. No, he felt tens if not hundreds of times happier. Now he truly had a family and had even met the woman he loved and a kid he felt a close parental bond for.

“Louis, are you going to get anything?” Aasim’s voice drew Louis out of his thoughts.

“Hmm, yeah. Just gotta find the best weapon for AJ.”

“I’ll help you look,” Marlon offered with a smile, his hand resting on Louis’ shoulder. Louis returned the smile then continued to look. There was quite the array of weapons, small, large, swords, axes, a stray gun or two, but none seemed like the right fit for AJ. The three men continued to search the booth, the seller beginning to get a bit antsy when none of them seemed to be buying anything. After nearly fifteen minutes of searching, Louis’ eyes landed on a sheathed dagger. The sheath had a simple yet dynamic design. The deep brown wood complemented the swirling, effortless detailing. Without thinking the pirate captain picked up the blade and unsheathed it. His eyes danced with interest when he saw the handle carved with a design that added to the badassery of the blade. He lifted his finger to check the sharpness when the seller spoke up.

“If I may, good sir,” He extended his hand and Louis returned the blade. The man gave a short nod then turned to a small display of wood. With a quick flick of his wrist, he cut the display piece clean in two.

“Holy shit,” Marlon stared in disbelief. Aasim placed a hand on his chin and studied the blade.

“It would be a useful gift against the sea creatures and like we face on the open waves.”

Louis thought about it carefully. It was a dangerous weapon but considering that their lives were far from peaceful it felt like a practical and thoughtful gift to give to AJ. “I’ll take it,” Louis passed over the ducats, not even bothering to haggle.

“Thank you, kind sir,” the seller placed away the blade in its sheath then handed it over to Louis. The Ericson captain strolled away with his two friends, humming happily in his success in finding AJ’s gift. He wondered if everyone else was having luck with shopping.

-----

“It’s no fucking use,” Mitch groaned and let his head fall as he walked through the marketplace. “I can’t find anything for Willy.” He was wrapped up in his own thoughts when he felt a gentle squeeze on his hand. Looking over, he saw an optimistic smile on his wife’s face.

“Don't worry, Mitch,” Brody intertwined their fingers “We’ll have luck soon. I know it.” “Must be nice having confidence like that,” Violet’s voice appeared beside the auburn-haired pirate. Brody turned to see Violet walking hand in hand with Prisha. “I’m sure whatever I get for Prisha will be ass.”

“I highly doubt that,” Prisha leaned forward and placed a delicate kiss on her wife’s cheek, making the blonde’s face grow deep red. Mitch gave a snort which made his childhood friend send a glare over his way.

“Have something to say, Mitch?” Prisha raised an eyebrow at her friend.

“Violet has always been this way about gifts, thinking they’re shit but they’re not. Besides Sophie, I’d say Violet was always the one of the streets rats to find some good shit for gifts.”

Violet’s eyes grew large in shock for a split second at her friend’s compliment before softening and looking away. “I don’t know about that.”

The four walked in silence for a minute. All of them looked around at the multiple different stalls with sellers calling out in hopes to intrigue them to take a look at their wares. A light chuckle from Brody drew everyone’s attention when she pointed over at the town square. There in the center were most of their crewmates dancing merrily in a jig. Marlon and Sophie were in the middle grasping hands, going around in a circle and dancing before they patted their knees and spun around each other once more. The couple then grabbed more of their friends and continued to do the same dance with different members. Willy had a pot on his head and was chuckling as he linked arms with Clementine who was trying to get to the center where Louis was kicking his feet and bursting with laughter with Omar who had the biggest smile on his face they’d seen in a while. Ruby and Aasim were dancing around in the outer circle of it all, their faces both bright red from dancing and from each other.

“Gosh, I wish I could join them,” Brody smiled wistfully.

“You can if you wanna. It’s not like we’re having-” Mitch paused in his words of encouragement when he spotted out of the corner of his eye a small wooden toy pirate paddle boat that he knew in a split second Willy would adore. For some reason he got this eerie feeling and glanced over to see that Prisha had spotted the same item. The two locked eyes for a moment then let go of their wives’ hands and began sprinting to reach it first. Violet and Brody watched in disbelief and amusement as both of them tried to outrun and outsmart the other.

Violet gave a sigh. “You can still go dance if you want.”

“Nah, I think I’ll wait for a few minutes, see if I spot the… right… Holy shit!” Brody exclaimed and moved over to the booth a few feet ahead of them. Violet looked confused but followed her friend who had stopped at what looked to be a weapons booth that held some rather unique weapons. Spiked boarding axes, a hook hand, a blowdart, but none of those had grasped the auburn’s attention. Instead her eyes were completely focused on what looked to be a small harpoon attached to a rope and a leather strap.

“I see you know a good weapon, lass.” The woman leaned forward and smiled, revealing a single gold tooth, her arms covered with different tattoos. “That there is a hand harpoon used to draw your enemy closer to you and close the gap between ye in an instant. Or you can use it to grab something from afar.” The woman explained.

Brody nodded along, studying the craftsmanship. “Do you mind if I test it out?”

“Not at all, I’ll set up a target,” The woman disappeared for a moment then returned with a stand, a bright red apple standing on top of it. Brody worked to adjust the weapon on her wrist with help from Violet and with a deep breath she shot out her hand releasing the harpoon and stabbing the apple straight through. With a harsh yank Brody pulled back the apple and gave it over to Violet who took a bite from it right away.

“Mitch’ll love this. I’ll take it.” Brody looked at the price, a confident smirk appearing on her lips. She could knock that down more than a few ducats, easy. After a few minutes Brody had safely procured the item and was walking with an air of pride at her bartering skill.

Violet looked over at her friend, a gentle smile pulling at the corner of her lips at Brody’s happiness. Now all she needed to do was find a gift for Prisha. The blonde pirate could feel her anger growing as she looked in booth after booth and found nothing. That was until she spotted a silver bracelet with delicate lines that led to the center of it that held a gorgeous teal stone. She knew in that moment that it was the perfect gift for Prisha. Violet strode forward and picked up the jewelry, studying it carefully. It was made from some sort of silver so it shouldn’t tarnish easily which was good considering their lives on the sea.

“Find something, Vi?” Brody’s gentle voice appeared beside Violet who glanced up at her crewmate before looking down at the bracelet.

“Yeah, I think Prisha would like this,” Violet held up the bracelet and Brody let out a small gasp.

“It's gorgeous. Prish will love it,” Brody’s words of encouragement help cement in Violet’s mind that she had found the perfect gift for her wife.

“Hey! I want this!” Violet called out to the seller who woke up from their nap. They gave a sharp yawn.

“Sure, for the right price,” He had a sly smile on his face that made Violet’s face curl into a frown. This guy was gonna try to squeeze all the coins he could out of her. Too bad for him that Violet was stubborn as hell especially when it came to stuff involving Prisha’s happiness. After a heated conversation and some light threats, some of which Brody had to step in the way to laugh off and say Violet was joking, the blonde pirate got the bracelet. She had a serene, excited smile on her face when she looked at the bracelet for Prisha. After a moment Violet felt Brody’s eyes on her and looked over at her friend. “What?”

“Nothing. Let’s go join the other in the square,” Brody grabbed Violet’s hand and ran forward.

Violet haphazardly placed the bracelet in her pouch. “Brody, slow the fuck down. I don’t wanna break my gift to Prisha.”

The two joined the others and noticed that their spouses were still nowhere to be found. They must still be in a heated competition for that gift.

----

Prisha and Mitch reached the booth at the same time, both out of breath as they glared at each other.

“I saw it first,” Prisha hissed at her friend.

“Bullshit,” Mitch huffed. “Get your own gift.”

Prisha was about to make a snarky comment back when the seller ambled forward.

“Well, hey there. Anything caught your fancy?”

“Yes, I want that toy boat!” Mitch and Prisha exclaimed at the same time, pointing at the toy on display.  The two glared back at each other and began to argue again.

“Back off, Prisha!” Mitch grumbled. “If anyone is getting this kickass boat for Willy, it’s me.”

“Ha! Not if I put the ducats down first,” Prisha replied smugly then looked over to the seller. “How much for the toy boat?”

All color left Prisha and Mitch’s faces when they heard the price for the toy.

“That’s outrageous,” Prisha huffed angrily and placed a hand on her hip.

“Yeah, it's made of wood and shit. Can’t you lower the price?”

“Can you lower your tone?” The seller tutted. “All my designs are handmade and crafted with the finest wood and materials in all the seven seas. So pay the price or leave.”

That statement angered both pirates who turned away to discuss the situation.

“I’m getting that stupid fucking boat. Even if I have to use persuasion,” Mitch reached down for his dagger.

“Don’t be stupid. Let us just split the cost of it with all our ducats. We should be able to reach that lofty price.” Prisha stated in a matter of fact tone. Mitch thought about it for a second then nodded. Inhaling deeply, he spat out a huge wad of saliva on his hand and held it out.

“Street rat oath. Most serious oath of all.” Mitch frowned when he saw Prisha hesitate for a split second but soon she had spit on her hand and shook his. With the oath sworn, the pair returned and purchased the tiny pirate toy boat.

“Ha! I can’t wait to see Willy’s expression when we introduce him to Lil’ Kickass.”

“Yes, I’m excited as well,” Prisha glanced over and saw that everyone was still dancing in the square including her wife. “Shall we join the others for a dance?”

Sure, just gotta tuck this away,” Mitch stuffed away the gift and the duo joined the others as a new lively, cheery song began to play. The Ericson Pirates all laughed as they danced around each other, slapping their knees and spinning each other around until Louis paused mid dance step, whacking Marlon in the snoot.

“Ow, Lou, what was that for?” The blond brushed his sore nose.

Louis pointed over to the marketplace where a group of pirates were striding forward, each one decked out in the finest threads and garments a swashbuckler could hope to afford. It was the Dandiville Pirates.

“Damn it,” Clementine groaned. The last thing their crew needed was enemies to appear.

“So many Aasims,” Louis teased as he looked at his friend in his fancy pirate outfit.

“Take that back,” Aasim shook his head. “I have class. They on the other hand-”

“Fuck, they saw us,” Violet’s statement made all of them freeze. Slowly they all looked over where the Dandiville Pirates stood in shock.

“Ericson Pirates!” The captain spoke, the scar he had received from the Ericson crew still evident on his face. “Get ‘em, lads! Bring them in for the bounty and revenge!”

“Shitsticks,” Violet instantly grabbed Prisha’s hand. Mitch ran forward and unclipped two smoke bombs from his belt.

“Eat shit!” he laughed wildly as he covered the marketplace in smoke. That was the chance they needed - the crew dashed madly through the smoke, dodging swipes and returning kicks as they scampered off to their ship. Louis was first on and helped up the younger members.

“We gotta haul ass!” he yelled as his crew worked to set sail.

“I’ll hold them off!” Willy cried as he loaded his slingshot and sent a flurry of pebbles and other missiles at the Dandiville Pirates. As Ol’ Kickass began to float away, the Ericson Pirates taunted their enemies before letting out wild cheers as they set sail towards their next destination. The evening of gift giving was upon them and all were excited to share what they had found.

[2jiung]

-ˏ͛ aesthetic tagˏ´- 

tagged by @jisusgf (thank you for tagging me baby! <3) tagging @junhee-s @nctyz (you don’t have to if you don’t want to ofc! & if anyone else wants to do this, just say i tagged you !!) rules bold the aesthetics you relate to and add twenty of your own aesthetic qualities for others to bold.

soft

baby pink | iridescent | glitter is always a good option | no bra | minimalistic tattoos | cherry patterns | sweet scented perfumes | wearing generous amounts of blush | doodling hearts | getting excited to pet an animal | fun nails | rewatching old barbie movies | hair sticking to glossed lips | heart shaped sunglasses | taking pictures of the sunset or sunrise | stuffed animals | protecting nature | stickers everywhere | teen movies | the light rain that falls from a clear sky at the beginning of the night

dark academia

neutral tones | masculine outfits | studying languages | worn down copy of books | grey skies | turtleneck sweaters | loose fitting pants | hair tied with a silk ribbon | trying to remember a cool difficult word you read somewhere to use in a convo | thick belts | minimal makeup | windows fogged by rain | vintage jewelry | blouses with cuffed sleeves | reading a murder mystery and trying to solve it | oxford style shoes | sweater vests | subtitled old movies in a language you don’t speak | leaves crackling as you walk | annotating books to express your emotions about the story

edgy

closet full of dark clothes | fishnet tights | makeup sweating off | neon signs | searching for unknown songs | chokers | band tees | doodling on old converses | finding smoking aesthetically pleasing but not doing it | weird humor | accidentally very dramatic | dim lights | layered outfits | chain belts | chipped nail polish | messy hair | low quality pics | piercings | combat boots | scribbling on desks

seventies

colorful wardrobe | doodling flowers | wearing short shorts | using a bikini top or bra as a normal top | listening to ABBA | flowers in your hair | diy-ing everything | jamming to songs alone in your room | drunkenly telling your friends you love them | patterned bandanas | mid heeled shoes | messy braids | flared sleeves | walking barefoot on grass or sand | bold sunglasses | the good kind of tired you get after doing something you enjoy for hours | feeding stray animals | fun patterned socks | room decorated with succulents and other plants | likes to go roller skating or skateboarding

preppy casual

collared clothes | drinking juice out of a champagne glass | getting excited to see the met gala looks | thick headbands | small pastel cardigans | making your friends take your ootd pics | plaid mini skirts | tweed two pieces | watching reality tv to pass time | frilly tops | watching old hollywood movies | academically driven | long manicured nails | new year’s eve fireworks | colorful tights | layered golden jewelry | yearns for luxury brand items | decorating your room with fairy-lights | cursive and neat handwriting | lace details

cinanamon

gold jewelry | slowdancing in the kitchen with a lover | sun on skin | red-tinted lip balm | lazy mornings | getting lost in foreign cities | scent of bakeries | high-waisted jeans | kissing someone’s neck | writing reminders on your wrist | sleeping in braids to have waves in the morning | growing an herb garden | gentle touches | sketches tucked between pages | flushed cheeks | tandem bikes | floating in a pool | vintage gold hand-mirror | deer grazing | softly singing while doing chores

jaesmintea

oversized everything | painted nails | fairy lights | dozing off in the middle of class | tying hair up into a ponytail | round glasses | laughing so hard you can’t breathe | late night study sessions | tender hand holding | impromptu photoshoots | drowning in moondust | bathing in the light of the sunset | strawberry flavored lollipops | polaroid pictures | eagerly tugging someone down the street | handwritten love letters | smell of coffee | living with reckless abandon | crinkled pages of a journal | replaying the same part in a song over and over

naptimetea

everything black | rewearing your favorite outfit | drawing late into the night | rewatching favorite shows | the bread aisle | minty lip balm | falling asleep anywhere and everywhere | making green tea | useless questions when it’s 2 am | forehead kisses | sleeping in till the afternoon | love of pink | staying up to watch the sunrise | dancing in the bathroom | messy handwriting | pile of sketchbooks | talking for hours about interests | old sentimental stuffed animals | hanging out on the bed and doing nothing | thick fluffy blankets

jeonginks

the thrill of leaning your body way over a balcony’s edge | the suffocating feeling when the strong wind blows down your lungs | tip-toeing barefoot | hair ruffling and cheek pinching | hugging a body pillow at night | facing the sky with closed eyes | the whimsical silence when it’s past midnight and you’re the only person awake | when you can physically feel your eyes soften when you look at someone | dancing alone with only an oversized shirt | when your sweater falls over your thighs as you stand up | humming scary but memorable lullabies | vivid imagination | sitting with a mini skirt and thigh high socks | heated laptop on your lap | cereal at 3 am | gliding your fingers across your thighs | bittersweet melancholy | withdrawn and distant eyes | very tight belts | wanting love but not believing in it | not cruel but not kind

scxrlettwxtches

listening to a song and remembering the times you used to listen to it on repeat | imagining yourself living in any other life than the one you have now | crop tops and high waisted jeans | forgetting to smile but not actually being upset | nuzzling your face in the crook of their neck | back hugs when you’re stressed | turning in assignments 1 minute before they’re due | wanting a relationship but getting scared the moment you’re in one | pretending that you don’t care when inside you’re burning with doubts and fears | the sound of the evening waves as you lie on the sand | lying in your bed listening to your sad playlist | exhaustion but you can’t sleep | singing loudly when you’re the only one home | feeling safe and comfortable with that person in your life | knee high suede black boots with your black winter coat | comfort over appearance | writing essays at 2 am | creative peak from 1 am to 4 am | the one that always ends up walking in the back of a friend group

hyunsracha

split-dye hair | female rappers | staying up until 6am and sleeping until 1pm | taking notes on an ipad | middle school emo music | mini skirts | late night drives | rain on the ocean | flirting with people when you’re bored | doc martens | eating ramen in the pot | afraid of being looked at | fishnets | getting joy out of making people laugh | small tattoos | crying yourself to sleep | peppermint everything | desperate for freedom | chipped black nail polish

maaneskin

silver jewelry | knowing few words in different languages | loose pants with tight shirts | always different hand writing | drug store perfumes | big cups and mugs | loads of blankets | sweatshirts and hoodies | antique boutiques | dark clothing with colorful socks | having your window open 24/7 | always listening to music | dancing in the bathroom | putting stickers everywhere | cats | dandelions are flowers | can never have too many plants | a lot of lip balm | stacks of notebooks | bear hugs

cho1jisu — jani

speaking so softly you have to repeat yourself | heart shaped everything | fresh flowers in your room | pastel stationery | naming your plants | only double knotting the laces on your right shoe | midi skirts and small tops | random poems scrawled across old receipts and napkins | being late to work because you stopped to pet a cat | loving people from behind the scenes | uneven smiles | curled eyelashes | lots of anklets | making handmade gifts | paint covered jeans | keeping a journal | taking a picture of your mom everywhere you go | pressing flowers | cheek kisses | calling your friends by petnames

mirror-mv 

resting your head on someone’s shoulder | flower-shaped earrings | writing birthday letters for friends | tinted lip balm | shimmery eyeshadow | drawing little flowers on my papers during class | talking to your pets | spending hours walking around in fabric stores | letting your friends sit on your lap when there aren’t enough seats | rewatching childhood movies with your loved ones and reminiscing those times | picnic dates | paint/pencil stains on your hands and arms | sitting outside with your friends during a party and looking up at the nightsky | skipping and dancing around the house | cycling with one hand on the handlebar and the other one holding your friend’s hand

[rahorak-a]

tag dump 01 : portrayal.

[uensis]

          𝚒'𝚍  𝚋𝚎  𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚢  𝚘𝚏  𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖  ,  𝚖𝚢  𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍  ;  that  there  is  SIWON  RYU  ,  notorious  for  being  (  materialistic  )  and  (  temperamental  )  ,  but  there  are  times  when  he  can  be  (  individualistic  )  and  (  optimistic  )  .   i’ve  heard  that  he  could  pass  as  a  KIM  TAEHYUNG  doppelganger  ,  but  i  don’t  see  it  .   the  (  twenty  four  )  year - old  agender  (  witch  )  has  been  in  town  for  (  a  few  months  )  and  they  are  a  (  cashier  at  one  man’s  treasure  )  affiliated  with  (  the  blackwood  coven  )  .   they  tend  to  spark  images  of  views  from  a  water  tower  ,  tattooed  runes  and  basking  in  the  sun  .

𝐎𝐎𝐂  :  hello  !  i’m deni and i don’t know what an aesthetic is  .  i use she/her pronouns and live in the gmt+9 timezone  .   i’m terrible with ooc chats and half the time just want to vibe a connection or plot idea  ,  so please don’t hesitate to throw a half-formed thought at me because i swear i’ll do the same  .  my discord is gay fairy#6371  .  anyway  ,  here is one of my characters  ,  a chaos child i adore very very much  !  looking forward to writing with you  ♡

                                 ———      wont let go at any price.

          T  .  R  .  O  .  U  .  B  .  L  .  E  .  some folks are bound to project it out into the universe  ,  aren’t they  ?  and of course it’d come straight from a brown-eyed cutie  ,  two months into an apprenticeship with the high witch of daegu’s coven  .  started small a bit of magic here and there to ace gym class  ,  write that essay and  enchant his music to something irresistible to the ear with half the effort  .  of course siwon’s sudden transformation into a spectacular violinist and a sudden A student caught attention --- questions asked  ,  answers insufficient  .  his parents and maester weren’t happy  ,  the coven making subtle threats about an eviction if siown didn’t stop  .  he tried to make all these little problems disappear before  BANG  !  there’s cops at the door and reporters in the yard  .  the theater’s blown to bits and siwon’s left standing in the embers  .  he didn’t mean to  .  honestly  ,  he didn’t  .  just thought a little tying up loose ends before he poofed over to nowhereville would be a good idea before that tenuous hold on magic just  slipped------

          so  ,  that didn’t work out  .  that’s okay  ,  siwon’s a boy of many talents  .  he peaced out and tried his luck in sokcho  ,  moscow and tokyo --- wandered all the way around with a helping hand outstretched that just really  ,  really wouldn’t cooperate  .  little scares here  ,  some monsters there  .  siwon’s got a number out and half a dozen warrants to his name before he charms his way into the states and steals a junker of an RV for himself  .  sets out across the road  ,  trying hard --- so hard --- to stay out of trouble this time because he so doesn’t want to go to europe yet  .  he sends his loving  ( but TIRED )  parents postcards from cities and quirky museums he visits  ,  and life on the road and jumping from coven to coven was pretty rough before his RV broke down on the outskirts of watermount  .  figuring this was the universe’s way of granting him a new home  ,  siwon threw himself at a coven and struggles --- badly --- to adapt to the town’s laws  .  there’s so much to do  ,  so much to see  ,  and siwon’s terrible in the backseat  .

                                   ———    we gotta make it last.

➤  full name.  ryu si-won  ➤  date of birth.  january 29th ➤  hometown.  toronto  ,  canada ➤  gender.  agender ➤  sexual attraction.  pansexual ➤  romantic attraction.  panromantic ➤  species.  witch ➤  bonds.   i owe everything to my mentor --- a horrible person who’s probably rotting in jail somewhere  ;  i would do anything to prove myself superior to my hated rival  . ➤  flaws.   a scandal prevents me from going home again  ,  that kind of trouble seems to follow me around  ;  if there’s a plan  ,  i’ll forget it  .  if i don’t forget it  ,  i’ll ignore it  . ➤  wants.  stability  ,  power  

          home.  huntington trailer park  .  upon arrival  ,  siwon sold his RV for scraps and moved into an aluminum home outside wickery forest  .  it’s small  ,  cramped with an array of thrifted furniture and old rugs  .  the closet’s overflowing with eclectic clothes and there’s always candles and incense burning  .  the roof leaks when it rains  ,  and the porch is nothing more than a piece of plywood  .  old books and notepads sit in stacks on the floor with pots of half-grown herbs and weeds for his brews  .  his bed’s covered with pillows and fairy lights stay tacked to the walls  .   instead of doors inside  ,  he’s hung beaded curtains and there’s crystals tucked under seats and tables to encourage good energy  .

          when he’s not at home  ,  siwon’s likely to be found at the swimming hole wearing a bandana and board shorts  .  skips rocks  ,  cannonballs  ,  swings from that ratty old rope  .  collects moss and molds that grow around the docks  .  he enjoys sacred ground and lafayette cemetery for obvious reasons  .  spot him scarfing mint chocolate chip cones at the scoop no matter the time of year  ,  grabbing fried rice and egg roll take-out at the china doll  .  he loves the blue and red slushies at the corner street bodega and the vegan pizza at big slice  .  for extra cash on the side  ,  he’ll sell you some magic infused herbs behind wilson’s or the college campus  ,  where he’s taking a few classes .  at one man’s treasures  ,  siwon offers tarot readings and talismans for a fair price  ( though whether they’re accurate depends on how friendly he’s feeling )  and often spends the boring hours talking to the furniture and clothes there  .  curious --- terribly curious --- he’s preparing for a trip to the pit just to see what the fuss is about  .  makes tik-toks  .

➤  connections.  

          what luck  :  siwon’s managed to land himself in a town that doesn’t allow magic outside of sacred grounds  .  how in the hell’s he supposed to get any better  ?  luckily  ,  one man’s treasure and the trailer park don’t get many visitors  ,  so he’s able to sneak in an extra practice or two---  until one day he’s caught  .  but no magic on town grounds doesn’t mean he can’t sell his charms and talismans and brews  ,  so he has a nice set of customers who don’t mind paying under the table  .  of course that sets him up for competitors among the other witches in the community but hey  ,  dude’s gotta pay the bills  .  siwon even takes commissions from supernaturals or humans who need a little something extra --- not to mention the infused herbs he sells to college students and  . . . others that have psychedelic affects  .  for all his talents here  ,  though  ,  he shines the brightest with divination ,  and he’s demanded to give tarot and star chart readings to more than a few people  ,  paid or pro-bono  .  a messy  ,  messy trail he’s left behind has brought him into contact with a few hunters  .  we’ll see how that goes  .

          curiosity gets the best of him  ,  so he makes plans to slip into the forest and the pit for a peek at things he probably shouldn’t see  .  he runs into a few difficulties there  ,  either from others who’re just as curious or people who are hiding something  .  a ritual gone wrong brings a demon or dark energy into his life  ,  and dude he’s not sure if the one offering a cash load for witch’s blood is going to do something shady or not  .  then there’s the typical set-ups  ,  the close circle of friends he studies or hangs out at the bodega with  ,  ones who’re able to drag him out to pandemonium when he’s in a dancing mood  (  and the middle of the street isn’t cutting it for whatever reason  )  .  there’s a few hook-ups  ,  past and present because he gets to hung up on people so fast and someone who arrived to town around the same time he did -- a few months ago -- and was his neighbor at the hotel  .  there’s cops and lawpeople he’s pissed off with antics around the swimming hole and other public property  (  brewed spray paint is awfully hard to get off of metal and bricks  ,  apparently  )  .  he’s got a magical mentor and is even trying his hand at mentoring a mentee’  ,  which should be  . . . interesting  .

➤  wanted connections taken. 

          christopher cho’s monster friend  . 

[peacefulwriter88]

Quatervois

1940s!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Angsty af (I’m sorry!), fluffy, smutty (18+)

A/N: Writing in the past is tricky if you aren’t white but between the rain, the spring, going down a black hole for Sebastian and my Atonement aesthetic mood...I had to try. 

Also mood board created by me so tag me if you reblog/share

Quatervois:

(n) A crossroads; a critical decision or turning point in one’s life.

June 1940

London, England

The war was changing us all - for the good, for the bad.

Before the war I was a student and could get by with the small allowance the university gave me.

Now I worked for savings - just in case I needed to haul off of the dreary island known as England and gotten a cushy job in a cafe, The Elgien.

Before, my golden cinnamon dusted skin would have only been good enough to work in the back, in the kitchen where the rest of us hid from the world because of the mark of our skin.

Things were different now. Women could take up jobs. Colored people like me, didn’t have to hide too deeply in the world. Sure the ignorance still lingered and lived on but we were good enough now to do low end jobs without having to hide completely.

Its on one particular Wednesday morning that the cafe falls into whispered silence. The last of the men of Dunkirk have arrived and the space is filled with soldiers. Soldiers who need coffee, who need food, who need someone to tell them that they’re okay. Soldiers who still sit in silence with the mark of sin done upon them on their skin, some still fresh with the blood of their fallen comrades.

I do what I can. I pour large quantities of coffee and serve jam and biscuits and offer a wayward smile occasionally to a man who is bold enough to make eye contact with me. It had been but a day when I had to transcribe a letter in French for a soldier who wasn’t sure he was going to make it back alive.

This was the world we lived in now.

The cafe is situated right along the Thames, used to be a part of a gentleman’s club. Now the black wood clashed against the grey river water, the distant alarms and chatter as automobiles rolled by. The air constantly smells of sulfur and sea salt, an icky thin layer of grime that you can’t see with the naked eye but I know exists, falls on me and doesn’t allow me to shake the fear of what was happening beyond the dark, grey skies from my bones.

“May I bum a smoke?”

The voice that startles me is sultry, dry and low and I jump in fear as I turn around, clutching my sweater closer to my body as I drink in the intruder who has snuck up on me.

I knew him - he was a soldier and had been with the first round of men that had stopped by a few days back. He was a man of rank though which rank I wasn’t sure. He had come in with a tall handsome blonde man that everyone addressed as Captain. The both of them spoke low, always among themselves as they looked over maps of terrain of Western Europe.

He was handsome, dark short hair that curled at the ends that his fingers ran through now. A sharp, defined jawline, pouty lips and a deep set of blue eyes that reminded me of the ocean, of safety and warmth before all of this has happened. It all paired well with the

fitted army suit he wore, the cap he tucked underneath his arms.

“Of course,” I dig in my sweater pocket and pull out the glossy oak case with my initials, pull out a rolled cigarette. Hand it to him and he smiles as he digs out a lighter,

“Thanks, doll,” he lifts it to the dying sun that was hiding behind grey clouds, weeping the dead and he huffs out a breath, “You roll your own?”

The question isn’t accusatory, its genuine and curious and I nod as I turn back to the dirty waters of the Thames, inhaling the nicotine, allowing it to calm me.

“Impressive. Must be an European thing.”

His accent is thick, drawls a bit and I smile as I flicker my eyes to him, wrapping my arm around my torso,

“Maybe. But I guess someone far from New York would think so.”

He laughs, takes the few strides it takes to stand beside me as he lights up the cigarette,

“What gives it away?”

“The accent,” I look over at him, surprised at just how deep his cerulean eyes are, the way they watch me curiously, “And the way you walk into a room. You still have this haughty confidence to you. Germans haven’t scared it out of you yet so you must’ve grown on some side of New York.”

He clears his throat, sticks a hand in his pocket as his eyes draw out into the grimey river.

“I don’t walk haughtily.”

I laugh, eyes following his and shake my head,

“I’ve worked with hundreds of boys like you long before the war. You learn to read ‘em easily. And you sir, are a haughty walker.”

He laughs as he extends his hand out, smiles.

“James. James Barnes. But you can call me Bucky if you like. Or Haughty Walker.”

I blow out a smoke ring, smile,

“Y/N. Y/N Monroe. Pleasure to meet you, Bucky.”

“And you Ms. Monroe.”

We stand in silence, listening to the sound of the low chatter of the radio, the sound of boat marges and the lapping of cold water.

“How long have you been here?” It's his voice that breaks the silence and I sigh, debating it.

“Three years now I guess. I was studying in Cambridge before all of this happened.”

“Really? A college girl.” He throws me a cool smile. “What were you studying.”

“Organic chemistry.” I sigh again and he raises a brow,

“A smart college girl. You miss it?”

“Class?” I look over at him and he nods, takes another drag of his cigarette. “No. I miss normalcy. Even if it means that I have to go back to handsome soldiers not talking to me because of the color of my skin.”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t talk to you?” his voice is teasingly accusatory and I chuckle shrug,

“I don’t. I just meant….”

“I know what you meant. And that's fair. But to be fair to me, I’d still talk to you if I ever ran into you. You have a pretty smile.”

I look over at him, take a drag of my cigarette. Huff out a breath as I look back at the Thames,

“The sad thing is I believe you.”

He stays for the rest of my shift. Resumes his place at the circular table that sits out toward  the English streets, sipping coffee and smoking cigarettes. Sometime he talked to other soldiers. Mostly, he kept his eyes frozen outside, watching the hordes of people walk by.

I wonder what he had lost.

What he fears losing.

He does this for three days straight, doesn’t miss a beat. Comes with the golden captain and doesn’t leave until my shift is over, waving me home. Sometimes, he brings me flowers. Daisies and lilies and periwinkles that tickle my nose but warm my insides.

Sometimes, he sat with me out back behind the kitchen, sipping coffee and nibbling stale coffee bread as we reflected on the future.

His funny and charismatic but there’s shades to him that’s different, parts of him that he shields from me when our conversations come to a lull. Their silent pregnant pauses of things that he’s too afraid to verbalize, remind me of similar demons when I lay at home alone and listen to the radio.

It’s the fear that reminds me of how alone I am - how afraid I am to be alone.

Except, I’m not when I’m with him.

“I’m going to walk home now,”  I say on the fourth day, walking to his empty table as he looks up from the paper he’s reading. Re-deployment was the headline in today’s paper. The boys who escaped the  fires of Dunkirk was going back into the bowels of hell. He had told me far before we read it in a newspaper and I had stayed up all night wondering what it meant to lose this normalcy in my life.

“I was thinking of stopping for a bottle of red, a loaf of bread and making some form of

sandwich for dinner if you wanted to join. I understand if you can’t.”

The sun has finally made an appearance, blades of gold and orange that pierce through the dreary black and silver that has fallen on the city. The rays fall on the features of his face perfectly, a

charming smile gracing his lips as he nods, gets up from his place at the table. He hands me the tip he normally leaves on the table, throws his cap on top of his full head of hair,

“It’d be a pleasure, sweetheart.”

Walking in English streets used to be one of my favorite past times. The cobblestones, the light rain, the sound of vehicles as they drove down the street, the telephone booths. The aesthetic to me was satisfying, made me feel like I was a part of something.

I tell him just as much, my arm linked in his as he escorts me down the street to my apartment, his eyes watching passerbyers carefully.

“Did you grow up here?” he asks when we fall into easy silence, the bottle of wine in his free hand, the bread in my own.

“No,” I laugh. “I’m American.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I got a scholarship. My teacher in high school, she was impressed by my brain. Thought others would be too. She was right. I’ve only been here for two years.”

“You’re a junior in college.”

“I was. Still will be if I survive.”

“How did your kin feel about it? Leaving to study somewhere else?”

I let out a sigh as I open up the iron gate to the study housing apartments, nodding at the elderly groundskeeper who was watering flowers. Bucky does the same and I dig in my bag for the keys to the door,

“Not a lot of students who are staying here. Just those of us who aren’t from here….everyone else went back to their families,” I pause as I unlock the door, “I don’t know how my parents feel about me being gone now. Suppose there not too happy about it. I don’t even know how I feel about it...I haven’t been able to talk to them in months.”

“You don’t write to them.”

I pause.

“My parents stopped writing to me a while back. I try writing them and don’t get a response back. For whatever reason.”

Bucky stops,

“I’m sorry.”

I stop at a stair, turn towards him,

“Its okay,” I offer a small smile. “I just don’t want to talk about them. They were happy that I left and they knew when I did it may be the last time that they see me. And I have to be okay with that too.”

I turn back towards the stairs, take the old creaky wooden steps one at a time. I am relieved when I hear his steady footsteps behind me.

It was nice not being alone, for once.

“How do your kin feel about you going into the war.”

I make it to my door, pull out my keys for a final time as I unlock the top lock, then the bottom. My room is nicer than most students;  I was lucky in the space that I was given. A small living room and kitchen, space for a table for my dining room. A bathroom and bedroom off  to the side.

I wave Bucky in, locking the door behind me as he walks around the small space, drinks it in.

“I can’t think of the last time I’ve been in a home,” he turns toward me around the same time I look at him and offers a small smile. “My pop died a long time ago and my mom was sick and….the war was the best option. I can send my earnings each month so my sisters can still go to school, still live a life.”

His voice is distant, eyes drift to the record player in the corner, the albums.

“Let’s put on a little music, shall we?”

I nod as I shrug out of my jacket,

“Lets.”

He puts on Ella Fitzgerald, taking off his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves as he joins me in my small kitchen. He pulls out a block of mozzarella and the prosciutto that I was given from one of my professors days earlier while I cut the bread, deciding to toast it for bruschetta.

I tell as much to Bucky.

“What's a bruschetta?” He asks curiously and I laugh as I grab two tomatoes from my ice box, shaking my head as I start to dice them,

“It's going to blow your mind is what.”

He doesn’t exactly understand the concept as he watches me dice three cloves to garlic, the basil from my window sill. He’s open to it though, offers to cut the mozzarella and lay out the prosciutto as we wait for the bread toast,

“Where were you stationed before you ended up here?”

Bucky smirks, shakes his head as he changes the album to Louis Armstrong,

“In the some crappy mountain range in France, can you believe that?” His back is to me, attention focused on putting on the track.

“What led you to Dunkirk? You were pretty far from the coast. ”

He pauses as the  song cuts on, the sultry voice of Louis a contrast to the low traffic outside.

“My buddy Steve. Said we had to go back. Had to help as many as we could…..”

He doesn’t have to say anything else. I knew the empty words.

‘But we were too late’

“I like this song.” I say as I push off the counter, watching as he turns around to look at me. His blue eyes are darker, there’s something conflicting in his irises as he watches me. It's  the most vulnerable I’ve seen him, before the veil disappears and he’s offering a hand,

“Well if it's your favorite the least I can do is offer a dance.”

I smile as I take his hand, warmth wrapped around my own as his other hand finds the small of my back, twirls me expertly around the small living room,

“You must do this a lot.”

“Do what?” he asks, leaning down on me.

“Dance with girls.”

He shoots me another flirty smile, nods,

“Maybe yes, before all this.”

“It shows.”

“My skills?”

I tilt my head as I watch him, before matching his grin,

“Yes. That amongst other things.”

He doesn’t challenge me, just watches me carefully, twirls me around and dips me, causes me to laugh along with him.

It makes us feel less alone.

We pour hearty glasses of wine into the only two glasses I own, toasting to our health. Bucky tells amusing stories the more he drinks, talks about watching the Yankees playing in Brooklyn and the Stark exhibit he’s watched at the World Fair; and that they’re are guns more powerful than the atom bombs I’ve read in the newspapers.

How his buddy, Steve Rogers had gone from a scrawny human constantly on his deathbed to the strong army soldier I had witnessed for the past couple of days,

“It scares me,” he admits as he we share a cigarette, leaning against the wall as he watches me pour the last of the wine, “Steve. I don’t understand how any science can make him….put him in a different body. It's like magic.”

“Magic is just science that we don’t understand yet,” I lean over and grab the cigarette, take a drag, “A classmate of mine told me that once. Artie Clark. He’s going to be something, someday. If he survives all this.”

“If?”

“He’s a pilot last I heard. Hopefully no one shoots him down - that man has a lot of knowledge in that brain of his.”  

Bucky smiles, falls back on the wall and watches me under hooded eyes.

“You’re saying that there is nothing weird about what happened to my buddy?”

I snort, shake my head.

“No. Honestly you sound like a crazy person. But I don’t dispel the power of science, especially after all the stuff I’ve read in the paper - I’ve heard from other classmates, people. This war has changed it all.

I’m just providing you logic to why its probable.”

He keeps his eyes focused on me, watches me carefully,

“You have a guy off in the war?”

I look at him, wait a few beats before I snort, take another drag of the cigarette and hand it to him,

“You’re asking me this now?”

His lips spread in a lazy smile, still watching me under hooded eyes before licking his lips and grabbing the cigarette from my fingers.

“I thought you would bring it up by now if you did.”

“Then that answers your question doesn’t it. No, no I don’t. I have a guy I used to see, I think he’s fighting. Maybe. I don’t know. Won’t benefit me from knowing.”

He blows out a stream of smoke, still watching me with dilated irises,

“You’re a catch. Any fellow be lucky to have to you in his life.”

“Glad you think so. It's just what I need, a man to validate my worth.”

He laughs as he puts out the cigarette, raises his brow,

“You’re right. You don’t.”

“I know I am.”

I place the wine down, wrap my arms around my knees. I was drunk, my head was dizzy and my fingers were tingling and I was warm all around.

But it felt so nice to have someone around and I liked Bucky. He was earnest and honest and handsome.

“May I ask you something?”

I open my eyes, look at him. His face has that serious look back to it, the one that he kept trying to push down.

“Of course.”

“Can I kiss you?”

I watch him carefully, bite my lip before whispering,

“Yeah sure. Okay.”

He nods as he crawls over to me, dark eyes focused on my own. He doesn’t smell like the other soldiers, has a nice spicy aftershave that sticks to his skin as his calloused fingers cups my face, the pad of his thumb caressing my lips.

My lungs feel tight, like it's hard to grasp onto air as his face inches closer to my own. His breath is hot against my own and I close my eyes as his lips press against me.

He pulls away, blinks at me carefully before I huff out more air, grip his face and draw him closer to me.

The second time he tastes like wine and tobacco and garlic and the combination should make me nauseous but instead it's comforting. I’m sure I taste the same as he leans into me more. His breath is heavier, his hands needy as they travel all over my body, drawing me closer and I moan when his finger grazes over my nipple.

He stops, pulls away and watches me carefully, the curls of his hair falling in front of my face,

“I’ll stop if  you want I’m not trying to get…..I just.

I feel safe when I’m with you. We can stop.”  

It's the most self conscious I’ve seen him this whole time, the uncertainty in his tone and I smile as I push my lips upon his own,

“Its okay,” I mumble against his mouth. “I do too. I feel safe with you too.”

It felt less lonely in the arms of another. He smiles against my skin, before pulling away and standing up. He offers his hand, helps me up.

We watch each other for another careful minute before he presses his lips against my own. Then I’m tumbling backwards, blindly as he navigates me to my small queen size poster bed. His hands aren’t as nimble as I’m sure they were in another time, before the war, and he fumbles with unbuttoning my dress.

I pull away from his expert tongue, taking large breaths as I find his fingers and help him unbutton the top of my dress, the zipper to my work skirt until the thin fabrics naturally falls to the ground, leaving me in my slip. His eyes never break from my own as my hands find the buttons to his uniformed shirt, freeing the stiff buttons from the fabric until he’s left with his undershirt.

My hands skim down his torso, eye contact never breaking as I find the hem of the shirt and tug it upwards and he helps to pull the fabric over his head, hands catching my torso as I drink in his chest.

My fingers dance along the muscles that formed against his chest, down his arms and give a slight smile as I move lower, skimming above the hairs of his navel and his breath quickens as my finger  graze down to his belt, also stiff and I pull it free from its metal prisoner.

He watches me curiously as I unbutton his jeans, help him to shimmy out of his pants and I drink in his naked form, clear to me in the low light of my room. .

I look back up at him, at the curious way his dark eyes burn into my own before he’s kissing me back, hungrily this time, possessive and I allow him to direct me down onto my bed, to shift my slip up over my body until we’re both naked.

He shifts my hips, raises a leg of mine before his cock teases against my vagina’s entrance and my breath wavers as he pulls away, nudges my nose,

“You a virgin?”

“No. But I’m not the most……..experienced.”

He smiles as he leans down, kisses me softly,

“I’ll take care of you sweetheart.”

He’s slow as he enters me. The feeling is different the girth of him entering my waiting walls but I like it, like the way it burns as I tighten around him. He groans, presses his forehead against my own until his hips are flux with my own.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine….I like it.”

He kisses me deeply as he whispers,

“Me too.”

Then his hips take over. They snap into me methodically, slowy, rubbing against the nerves in my wall and I can’t help the wanton moan that escapes my lips as I arch off off the bed, my nails digging into his back. Each pass feels sweeter, deeper, enticing and all I can think about is him, the way he smelled and tasted and felt as he ruts deeper into me, faster, his eyes not breaking from my own.

Bucky’s vocal, tells me how good I feel and how lucky he is to have stopped for coffee at my cafe and how beautiful I am between kisses and grunts. I wrap my thighs around his torso tighter, dragging him closer to me with each word.

It feels good to feel loved.

It's what I tell myself before Bucky's fingers dance down my stomach, find my clit and plays with it, causes me to scream as he kisses me silent, my mind seeing white and purple and orange as my body stiffens, and falls into relief. and It's not long that Bucky isn’t far behind me, hips quickening before he stiffens, coating my walls with his seed as his sweaty form falls on top of my own.

We lay there for a minute, the sound of the record player still going off in the living room, someone coughing from above me and it's finally Bucky who mumbles in the crevice of my neck,

“I want to see you again.”

I laugh because it seems like such a silly statement to make when he was still physically in me, caging me.

Except everything was different now.

He’ll leave here in the morning and maybe stay for a few days but the war will take him off and away.

I kiss his forehead, mumble against his skin.

“I do too.”

His hold tightens around me, he pulls away, dark curls barely shielding fear in his eyes,

“Let's pretend, for a night, that we can. That I can take you out for dinner and to go dancing and that nothing else matter but you and I.”

A taste of a world long forgotten.

“Okay.” I breathe out, brushing a strand of hair back. “But just for a night.”

When he leaves in the morning, he drapes his dog tags around my neck, presses his lips against my own as we stand in the doorway.

“I’m going to come back for these.” he whispers against my lips and I force the smile on my lips, lean on my toes and kiss him back just as fervently.

“You better.” I say confidently and he wipes a tear away before he throws on his cap, kisses  me one last time and walks out of the door.

Out of my life.

He never makes it back to claim his tags.

Tag List:

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[witchqueenofthemoon]

BODY AND SOUL Part 20 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: MILESTONEEEEE I’ve made it to Part 20! Loved writing Kenzie finally dreaming about the interrogation between Michael and Mallory at Outpost 3 (imo the best AHS scene of all time--I studied it carefully to write that part and WHEW do I love that scene, the birth of Millory!!!). I mentioned this in an ask recently, but I see Duncan as the Michael who chose the path of light, and Michael as the Duncan that chose darkness--I believe the duality of human nature is all about autonomous choice, and thus the Outpost Michael Kenzie sees has lost his nature of goodness, therefore has lost his “Duncanness” to her. She forgets that he called her “Mallory” upon waking, but she’ll hear the name again and be puzzled by it. The way Duncan helps Kenzie breathe is the real breathing technique to help comedown from hyperventilation--breathe in slowly through your nose, count to three, breathe out from pursed lips, repeat. The pomegranate smoothie is something like this recipe. Y’all know I had to reference this at some point. Lindy and Gabby are the ones who started DUCKENZIEFANS.com--they’re both high schoolers (they’re 16), and they--and their fan club/website--will show up again. I based Kenzie’s cool demeanor with them on the many videos people have taken of Keanu Reeves being lovely and polite to fans (I’m a huge Keanu fan)--the paps are going to start to notice how lovely Kenzie is to people, start picking up on her aura, so to speak, and it will have an effect on how they behave around her. Ben is my Billy Porter/Behold AU, as I’ve mentioned, and irl he is a married gay man and an outspoken advocate for LGBTQ+ rights--he’s done a lot of work with GLAAD, so it seemed fitting to make that his charity of choice. A reminder that the black tulle geometric lingerie looks like this. Ben’s glasses. His wine-colored blazer. His rose pin. Kenzie’s blouse. Kenzie’s skirt. Kenzie’s shoes. Duncan’s shirt. I listened to this remix of Lana del Rey’s BLUE JEANS a lot while I edited this part, it has a Duckenzie cosmic vibe. @neonlacrima made the most beautiful aesthetic moodboard for my fic and posted it today, please go give her love for it, I’m DYING over it. @deanfinite made one too, here, that I’ve been losing my mind over for days. The Duckenzie love is real, y’all, and I FUCKING FEEL IT.

Kenzie was dreaming again.

Duncan was kneeling before her. Duncan, but...not Duncan. The man kneeling in front of her had Duncan’s face--his blue eyes, though these were strangely dark and she could not see his soul behind them--his beautiful mouth and straight nose and chiseled jaw, but he had long, flowing golden hair--Duncan’s hair is coppery brown, like autumn leaves, waving down around his ears, falling back from his face, Kenzie thought in the dream--not knowing she was dreaming, but knowing that it was him, and also not him. And this man, who was Duncan, her beloved, and also not her Duncan, not her beloved: darkness coiled around him, thick like smoke--redness hovered around his eyes and he was dressed all in black, and this other Duncan, this dark Duncan, frightened her to the pit of her being. She smelled burnt ash and sharp, sickly sweetness, like the center of an overripe fruit. He smelled like destruction to her--like the end of something, like the end of everything. My Duncan doesn’t smell like that, she thought, a terrible chill in her mind. He smells like the woods in the rain and the sweetness of jasmine and summer grasses coming down as the light fades. You are not my Duncan. You are a shade of him, another side of him, one that does not exist in this world, and she still did not know she was dreaming, but she did know that, knew it, and knew she was inside the self that sat in front of his man, but was also outside of that self, as if she were looking over her own shoulder. The man was reaching out for her face, his other hand hovering on her knee, and the pressure of his hands filled her with sickly fear--you aren’t my Duncan, you really aren’t my Duncan, because his touch is healing to me, in his touch I can feel the fibers of his soul and it’s like sweet kisses on my skin, kisses full of tenderness, full of his love for me and your touch is not his, your touch is like death, your touch chills my soul to the core.

“You’re afraid,” this other Duncan was saying, “aren’t you? Of accepting who you are.”

“I don’t know who I am,” she heard herself say.

“What do you mean?” She felt caught in his gaze; as cold as ice, as harsh as a terrible blaze, a gaze that she could see none of her Duncan’s love inside--a gaze that wanted to consume only, devour only, rend, ravage. She heard herself speak again--as if she was only able to listen to herself--as if this other Kenzie was from the past, or the future, or some other Kenzie altogether, her doppleganger with a different mind entirely. “Sometimes, I feel like there’s someone buried inside me, trying to claw their way out.”

“Who?” The man’s hand was hovering at her chin now--not my Duncan, no, not him, this man is dark, he is Darkness Itself, he is the Beast, and she heard her other self say “I don’t know, I just wanna go--” and felt herself--her other self--stand and try to run away from the man--the man came after her and Kenzie’s heart went into her throat (no not him not him YOU ARE NOT HIM) and that other man with Duncan’s face grasped her arm and she heard herself say let me go and he said “Don’t be afraid, Mallory, I’m offering you a chance to live--”

And then she felt hot fire, heat so bright and so golden and so vast like the entirety of the sun and she thought YOU ARE NOT HIM DON’T TOUCH ME TAKE HIS FACE OFF IT’S NOT YOURS YOU TOOK HIM WHERE IS HE WHERE DID YOU TAKE HIM and Kenzie heard her other self scream this time, scream “I SAID LET ME GO--” and the fire, the sun of the feeling surged out of her, like the way she pushed her love and her feelings and thoughts into Duncan but this time it was charged, a thousand times stronger, a feeling so vast it felt as though it would rend her mind in two and something exploded, a fire burning behind them burst and extended and licked around the man and he staggered back from her, his face a mask of utter shock.

The room went dark, the fire snuffed--then the man with Duncan’s face rose from where he’d been knocked back, his golden hair tossed around his face, his expression full of wondrous awe, anger, and incredulence, his eyes inside hers. He advanced on her; his face became a terrible white mask, monstrous, distorted--and Kenzie felt herself, that other self that was her and not her, pull the golden sunlight, the energy made of wild, powerful brilliance, out towards him again, her fear floating away from her for a moment that felt like an eternity, and the fire flared up and was rekindled, swelling around him, forcing him to retreat once more, and Kenzie knew she was doing it, that it was her power that forced him back.

He lifted his face to her again, the veneration in it even more pronounced, the white monstrous pallor having disappeared from it, and Kenzie thought she saw a flash of Duncan finally in his eyes--a flicker of light, a spasm of his loveliness, his love, then it was gone. “Who are you?” His voice had lowered from its haughty cruelty, and was now tinged with astonishment. More like Duncan’s voice.

“I don’t know. Who are you?” Kenzie looked into the other Duncan’s eyes--I saw you for a moment there, my love, I saw you trapped inside him as though buried beneath the terrible weight of the crushing earth. Then the cold hand of fear gripped her heart again, and Kenzie felt herself, that other self, run from him as though there were ravenous wolves on her heels--

-------

She was coming back, resurfacing from a pool of dark water, and felt someone shaking her, shaking her arms and touching her face with a sweet, warm hand, a hand that she knew was Duncan’s before she even opened her eyes because she could feel the calm and the relief and the love in it, flowing into her, even while she was still drifting up from that dream, from the dark pool, from the other self she had been inside--and then her eyes snapped open and she was staring into his face, worry-creased, his blue eyes so earnest, Duncan was saying something but she couldn’t hear him at first then her hearing came back in a rush and she watched his lips (my Duncan, his eyes, his mouth, his warm and soothing hands, oh god, he took you away from me, he had destroyed you, my beloved, he had taken you away from me) and he said again “Kenzie, baby, Kenzie, wake up, you’re dreaming, you’re dreaming, it’s not real--”

Then she was jerking up and her breath shuddered out, and she gasped, harshly, and she felt the hot tears on her face, and Duncan’s hands were on her cheek and at her waist and the fear in his eyes shook her, shook her into intense relief, so intense she thought she might faint with it--”Oh god, baby, he didn’t take you, he didn’t take you away from me--you’re here, you’re okay, you’re here--your eyes, your soul--” and she burst into a sob that made her shoulders wrack forward into him and Duncan’s hands were in her hair as she cried, her face pressed into that space under his arm, her space, where she fit, where she’d been cut away from him, long ago at the beginning.

“Kenzie, Kenzie, baby love, everything’s okay, everything’s alright, you’re at home in our bed and I’m here, whatever was in your dream--it was just a dream baby, it’s not real--I love you, it’s okay, you’re okay--” she closed her eyes against him, hot tears coursing down her cheeks, lost in the soft whisper of his mouth at her ear, the feeling of his hands in her hair, his large body cradling her into his lap, and she breathed in--not the ash and rotten fruit of her dream, oh thank you, gods, Fates, thank you, he smelled like sandalwood and his jasmine soap and the musky earth-smell of him and Kenzie sobbed again, lost in his consolation, lost in the reality of him, the dream fading, that man made of Darkness Itself fading from her mind, bleeding out into the edges of her consciousness, mercifully. After awhile, she quieted, breathing him into her, breathing in the love she could feel coming off him in waves into her, and her heartbeat slowed, and Duncan was shushing into her hair, and saying “baby, it’s okay, baby, you’re okay, angel, Kenzie, shhhh, it’s okay,” and his hand was brushing the tears from her cheeks, the warmth of it, the shape of it soothing the harshness, the redness, the salty sting.

“Dunny--that dream--you were someone else, you were--a man with your face--”

“It wasn’t me, Kenzie, it wasn’t me. I’m here. It was a dream. I’m here. Your Duncan. I’m right here. I love you. I love you and you’re safe, you’re at home, you’re with me.”

“That man, he was so dark--he was evil--he was like a black hole in the void that sucked everything into it and howled in the face of the deep, serpent, the destroyer--” for a moment, it was as if someone else was speaking through Kenzie’s voice and she lost herself in the flow of her fearful words, then crashed back into herself, still babbling--”he scared me so much, it was like he had eaten you and was wearing your face, like you were screaming inside him--fuck, Duncan, oh fuck--he grabbed me and his hands were like a burning brand and I made the fire explode, I was so afraid and angry and confused--I don’t--” her breathing had risen back to a frenzied panting, and Kenzie gasped, hyperventilating, darkness at the edges of her vision.

“Shhhh, baby, shhhh, breathe, okay? Breathe slow, just breathe, in and out, watch me.” Duncan closed his mouth and breathed in through only his nose--he nodded at her slowly, holding onto her waist carefully and very tenderly, and Kenzie closed her mouth, watching him, mimicking the rise of his body, breathing in--she held her breath as he did, and he nodded to her again, holding up a finger--then one more--and a third, then they breathed out at the same time, Kenzie mimicking the way he pursed his lips as they did, and his hands rubbed gently at her waist, against her little pink satin pyjamas, the ones he got for me, soothing. “Good, baby, that was perfect, one more time--” and Kenzie and Duncan both breathed in carefully once more, and Kenzie felt the low, drifting calm of her mind float down against him, pushing the fear and the anxiety away--she could feel the golden bursts of his love flowing over her, waves of his affection in the sunlight over the bed, feel the warm convergence of his thoughts, tinged with fear for her, swirling around the corners of her mind. Kenzie, I love you. Kenzie, I’m here, no one will take me away from you, I won’t let anyone take me away from you. Feel me and look into my eyes. I’m here.

“Mom taught me to breathe like that, a long time ago,” Duncan’s voice was very quiet, soothing into her ear, his hands trailing up and down her body, around her arms and back and forth, feeling at the rise and fall of her, his head dipped down against her, the smell of him almost medicinal to her now--soothingly shielding her from the dream, pulling her away from it, and Kenzie was happy to leave it, happy to let it slip away, anxious to forget it. “I used to have panic attacks when I was little, over the paps following us around and taking pictures of me, I used to burst into tears and scream at them, and she taught me to breathe carefully like that--taught me to come down from my anger and just breathe.”

“Momby always told me to breathe, too…” Kenzie’s voice was a tiny whisper now, and she felt another wave of golden love fall over her like rain from Duncan’s tall, large body holding her against him, enveloping her, holding her at the side of the big dark-sheeted bed. My beloved, my One, my Duncan, oh god, I thought you were gone. “I can’t--that dream, baby--that nightmare--”

“It wasn’t real, Kenz. It wasn’t. Nobody will take me away from you. I won’t let them.”

Kenzie couldn’t keep a little whimpering sigh from escaping her lips--she let her eyes fall up the sunbeam that fell over the bed--daylight, not firelight, no fire--and lifted out of his arms now. He was gazing down at her, that terrible tenderness in his eyes, my Duncan, here he is, right here, right here with me, and he’s gonna go to work with me today, Ben’s gonna interview him, and more relief washed over her and she sniffed hard, willing her hidden tears back. The memory of last night was coming back to her now, too--making dinner together, strapping her body with nervous, shaking fingers into the tulle lingerie, his passionate kisses all over her body, buckling the choker around her neck and twisting her wrists into the velvet trappings, fucking her so achingly hard, their passion so needy, staring into each other with soul-shattering lust in their beautiful mirror--and the way he’d brought her a little bowl of green tea ice cream after because she’d asked for it, and they’d spooned it into each other’s mouths, kissing each other slowly and carefully between, their lust hazy and low by then, and she’d savored the way he’d looked at her as she licked the silver spoon in his hand, and they’d laid here in bed for a little while after, just holding each other quietly, until she’d begun to drift off into sleep--and Duncan had woken her softly to lead her to the bathroom where she washed her face and brushed her teeth and hair and soothed a damp wipe between her legs from a drawer under the long, spotless counter of the sink--she’d watched him do the same around his cock, wiping the residue of their combined rapture away, and had shivered, hands reaching out to him, and he’d pressed his lips against her forehead.

Kenzie could feel the soreness in her body now that she was coming back from the nightmare, coming back from the dulling of her senses inside that other place; her ass ached where he’d penetrated her and come deep inside her, and ached where he’d left redness smattered across her buttocks, and she could feel the raw wetness inside her cunt where the memory of his needy cock still lingered, the ache at her clit from his fingers and the egg and the incessant pressing there. But she didn’t mind--the soreness reminded her she was back here, in reality, in his arms, reminded her of the ardor between them last night and her ecstasy inside it, and that the dream hadn’t been real after all; that her fear inside it was unfounded.

“Do you want some water, baby?” Duncan spoke down into her softly, again, as she drifted in his arms, lost in her thoughts.

“Uh huh, please, baby. Can I have a coffee too, please? I’m okay now. I promise, I’m okay.”

Duncan stared at her for a little longer, as if to be sure, and then nodded at her. “I’ll be right back, okay? Just breathe like I told you if you feel upset again.” He kissed her, hand in her hair, then eased out of her arms--he was in just his briefs, the way he seemed most comfortable in sleep, and Kenzie couldn’t help but stare at his back as he walked away--the fall of his wavy hair on the back of his neck, the outline of his shoulder blades, the ripple of muscle in his arms, and the rise of his ass under the briefs, the thickness of his thighs, the fine hair on his legs. He is so beautiful. He really is. He’s like a statue come to life--almost too beautiful to be real, but he is. Kenzie sat there on the bed, feeling dazed, the dream still drifting at the edges of her psyche--but the sick, icy-hot feeling the man had given her, the fierce burning of the fire she’d kindled in her mind, and the panic at not being able to find Duncan--not being able to see him in the man with his face--were melting away. But these fucking dreams, Kenzie thought, troubled, remembering the ones she’d had over the past few days--Claire choking, the one where she was in the bathtub, the one where she brought a dead deer back to life--and Duncan’s dreams too, the one where she was dying, or the one where he was dying as she hovered over him (your hair was dark, you called me Michael, he’d said, she’d looked different--the way the dark man had had his face), or seeing her as an angel, with actual wings, comforting him--I was dark, he had said, your touch was healing.

We started having them after we met each other. Maybe we’re just really stressed by everything and our nerves are heightened lately...or...maybe it’s something else…

Kenzie got up from the bed, her tiredness eking away with the details of the dream--I don’t know who I am, she remembered herself (or that other self who was her but not her) saying, and then she thought of the way she and Duncan could hear each other’s thoughts sometimes--she stared at herself in the long mirror and was struck again with the feeling that it had always belonged to her, and she thought of Duncan dreaming that she was an angel. Maybe all of it does mean something. If the universe can help me find my Soulmate--and I’m really starting to believe it did--maybe it’s trying to tell us something else. Or show us something. Or...something. Maybe I don’t know who I am. Maybe there’s a whole other part of me I don’t know about.

Kenzie went to the closet--the silky black kimono Duncan had gotten her with the other things from Agent Provocateur was hanging near the front of her side. She’d put it there yesterday when she’d had the penthouse to herself--and had carefully hung the black lingerie beside it, to wear at a later date. Her tulle white lingerie from last night was on hangers lined up in the laundry room off the side of the living room, and she’d left a note on them for the housekeepers--I’ll wash these by hand myself, thank you. Kenzie was trying to get used to the idea of other people cleaning her living space for her, but there were some things she simply wouldn’t allow. Someone else washing my sex-stained lingerie by hand is one of them. Kenzie pulled the kimono down, sliding it over her shoulders and wrapping it around her waist; the lace fell beautifully around her thighs, and Kenzie looked down at herself with delight, pushing her hair behind her ears from where it had fallen into her eyes. My baby got this for me, and it’s so beautiful. I’ve always wanted something like this. Kenzie moved out of the closet and into the living room, where her eyes immediately fell on the coffee table with her roses and peonies--the roses were drooping quite noticeably now beside the other fresh flowers, and Kenzie lifted the Waterford vase up to bring it into the kitchen. Duncan was standing by his Keurig, waiting for a second cup of coffee to filter into it as he threw fruit into his Vitamix--hers was on the obsidian island, a tall glass of filtered water beside it.

“I was making you a smoothie,” he said as she came up behind him, and he turned to her, smiling. “Anything in particular you want in it?”

“I trust you, baby.”

Kenzie went up on her tip-toes and kissed him (he tastes like berries, she thought, noticing the open carton of blackberries on the counter beside him), admiring the way his hair fell down over his forehead as he leaned down to her; admiring his wide bare shoulders, the stubble ever-present on his chiseled jaw. “You’re wearing it,” he said, his smile widening, eyes flashing over her (burst of blue sky). “God, you look beautiful. I have to get you more pieces from them. One for every day at least. Do you feel any better, baby?” His hand came down the silkiness at her arm; trailed to her hand and grasped it, bringing her palm up to his mouth and kissing it, slowly, his eyes still in hers, sending a shiver down Kenzie’s spine. Last night was like a dream, but it was real, wasn’t it, baby, he thought into her, the wave strong as they touched. I worshiped you with abandon, your sweetness folding into me, your body trembling under my touch, the way you told me what to do to you, that choker around your neck, how hard I fucked you. Angel. Baby.

“Mhmm,” Kenzie breathed, bringing the hand he held up against his cheek, her thumb trailing over his lip. Duncan kissed her fingers--turned his head, closing his eyes. No, he thought into her, I’ll never get tired of kissing you, and she pushed it back towards him, I’ll never be tired of your kisses. “I feel okay now. Thanks for breathing with me, baby. That helped a lot. It was just...the way I felt in the dream, you know? Like you’d disappeared and someone else had taken over your body and that person was evil. And I was full of fear--there was another version of me there too, almost, one that didn’t know you--but I was there too, and I was full of despair.” She felt the tears in her eyes at that--wiped her cheek with a hasty hand. Duncan pulled her closer--she gripped onto his ass, only the smooth fabric of his briefs covering his sex between them--then tickled her hands up his torso and he barked with laughter, and the fear eked out of her again. How can I be sad with this beautiful boy here with me, kissing his devotions into my skin, smelling of the wild wood and the sweetness of berries.

“You better stop fucking tickling me or I’m gonna tie you up again,” he laughed down to her mouth. “I’m gonna spank you again, Princess.”

“Nuh uh, it’s my turn to spank you.” And Kenzie brought her little hand down and smacked Duncan’s ass as hard as she could, laughing and flinching away as he tried to grab her wrist. He was about to come after her around the island when his phone, sitting on the table, chimed out a text message. Kenzie ran to where her coffee sat, gripping the handle of the mug and bringing it up to her lips, sipping carefully as he picked the smooth iPhone up, grinning at him as he glared facetiously at her. “Gonna get you back for that later, baby. I’m gonna throw you over my knee for that.”

“Big talk, Mr. Shepherd,” she stuck her tongue out at him and wiggled her hips.

“Wait till later, Princess Kenzie. Still need to see you in that black set I got for you.”

He looked down at the text, then frowned. Kenzie had a good idea who it was from without needing to see it--Annette. Duncan put his phone down and turned it over.

“Your mom?”

He nodded, turning away from her back to the Vitamix, his good mood seeming to dissolve. He went to the fridge and pulled out a jug of pomegranate juice, pouring it carefully into the blender, snapping the lid and pressing the highest setting--a few seconds later the ingredients were blended perfectly, and he poured the rich magenta contents of the Vitamix into a tall tumbler, bringing it over to her, his eyes clouded.

“Is everything okay?” She leaned up to kiss him and he put the smoothie down, his hands suddenly coming up to her cheeks and pulling her into him, needy. Kenzie pressed her fingers through his, loving the richness of his smell as his tongue came against hers--she could feel a strange sadness from him now, and longed to brush it away.

“She’s angry about you moving in here, of fucking course--” he scoffed a little, then his face went soft again, soft to look at her, wistful and anxious--”I just wish she could see how extraordinary you are,” he whispered into her. “It’s so obvious. I don’t know how she can be so blindly stubborn. It hurts me to see her treat you unkindly. I hate it. I really fucking hate it.”

“Baby, it’s okay. I love you. You love me. That’s what matters.”

“Kenzie. I think you’re my Soulmate. I think you really, truly are. I think we were written in the stars. I think you’re the only person I was ever meant to be with. I do, baby. I really do. I have to tell you that,” and he looked into her eyes and Kenzie’s heart was full of him, full of the depth of everything he said, she could feel him there, pressing the invisible mouth of his soul, his blue fire, onto the invisible mouth of hers, made of golden moonshine, “It’s eating away at my heart and I have to say it. Doubtless you’ve heard me think it--and we can fucking hear each other’s thoughts, Kenz. That defies all description. That’s impossible, and yet we can. I don’t want anyone else to know about that, I want that to be our secret always--like, that’s too fucking intimate for other people, they won’t believe us and I don’t want them to ever know, I want that to be ours because I am yours entirely, Kenzie, my thoughts belong to you and so do I and nobody else can come close to you, for me, there’s only you now--and this sounds crazy to a part of me, to the Duncan I was last month--but I think we should go see a psychic, or a medium, or something like that, because I don’t understand what’s going on, but you and me and these dreams we’re having, and hearing each other’s thoughts, the Mirror, fucking everything--”

“Dunny. I can feel that you’re my Soulmate, too. I feel that too. I know that too. And when I see your thoughts I can see you beautiful soul, like the sound of rain falling at night, like sweet fire that warms me in the center of my heart and I’ll never tell anyone else about that, baby, it will always be only for me and you. I promise, baby, Duncan, I love you so--” Kenzie was speaking breathlessly into him, quietly leaning into his mouth and then he was kissing her achingly, their thoughts crashing together, strong and sweet. I love you, I love you, I love only you.

“You taste like blackberries,” she whispered, and pressed her tongue against his again, and Duncan’s hands came into her hair and buried themselves there, tangling into it deeper, pulling her head back so her chin rose and he could taste her better, could press her body into him, and Kenzie’s nerves were all on fire, the adrenaline from her dream surging back into the embrace of her lover, his grip both intensely possessive and wildly soft, my Prince who is the most beautiful of all Princes, the most divine of all the Gods, the most beloved of all Angels, Chosen and mine, mine alone.

---------

Duncan was still in the closet getting dressed as Kenzie retrieved the roses from the counter where she’d left them, lifting them out of the vase which she placed in the sink and drying the ends with a paper towel--she’d gotten a length of string from her sewing kit, now to be stowed in a cupboard towards her end of the walk-in closet, which she tied tightly around the bottom of the roses’ stems. She brought them back into the bedroom, past where she could see Duncan finishing the buttons on a textured black cotton shirt, and sliding his arms into a black blazer that was tailored almost alarmingly well--she marveled at his beauty, because it was impossible not to, no matter how often she gazed on him, feeling lost inside it, then turning away, shaking her head, dizzy with him. Kenzie had retrieved several aluminum thumbtacks from one of her various boxes of trinkets--Momby called them doodad boxes--and pressed them into the wall over the bed, wrapping the other end of the string she’s tied the roses together with around the tacks, so they hung with the petals facing earthwards, the better to dry. There. Now I won’t have to throw away any of the flowers Duncan gets for me. And our bedroom will always smell beautiful. And I’ll have my little garden, even if it’s a dead one.

Today she wore a sleeveless blouse in the palest shade of pink, with a peter pan collar and a thin black tying bow at the bosom, and a woven rust-brown skirt that fell just past her knees, which she had hitched up as she jumped on the bed, the better to reach the wall behind it. She’d put on the twisting gold bracelet she’d worn that night she and Duncan met on the balcony, fondly--but no other jewelry today. Kenzie felt nervous at the prospect of Ben interviewing Duncan--wondered if he’d be reasonable with Duncan’s request to postpone publishing it until he was officially in charge of the majority share for Shepherd Unlimited. I don’t know if I’d call Ben a reasonable person persay, she worried. He can be ruthless when he wants something, a great quality in a journalist, a not-so-great quality in someone who could potentially derail our hopes for the future. Duncan came out of the closet, adjusting his black Movado watch as he did, pushing a hand up through his wavy hair as his eyes fell on the roses, now drying upside-down.

“Now our bedroom will always smell like flowers, baby,” Kenzie murmured to him over her shoulder, her bare feet pressing into the bed, still mussed from their sleep. “I can’t bear to throw them away. They are the first flowers you ever got for me--well, besides the ones in the bathtub--and I will always love them.”

Duncan came up behind her, arms snaking around her waist, his face pressing into the side of her stomach as her arm came down around him, falling through his hair, smiling down at him from where she stood on their bed. She could see the happiness shining out of his blue (ocean on a clouded day) eyes as he turned his gaze between the hanging roses and her face--I mean it baby, she thought to him, I’ll love them forever. I’ll love you forever.

“I’ll buy you so many we’ll fill the entire wall. It’ll smell like a flower shop in here.”

“A wall of your love for me to look at every day. That sounds like heaven, baby.”

“You’re fucking heaven.” He pulled her down to him; Kenzie looked up into his face now, that glorious face (someone should paint him, the artists of the ages would claw each other in the face to paint his), then over his shoulder to the mirror that stretched and showed them in the morning light--Kenzie’s tawny hair falling down her back, Duncan’s fingers twisted in it, his face turned down to her in adoration as she looked at their reflection. For a moment, Kenzie allowed herself to imagine them as the royalty Pilar had likened them to--Hades and Persephone, Kenzie thought--a crown made of delicate gold leaves and moonstones on her head, one made of the bones of birds and dark obsidian stones around his, her blouse and skirt turning to a gown of spidery golden gossamer around her body, his dark shirt and blazer becoming a flowing cloak made of dark velvet around his shoulders. King and Queen of the Underworld, he judges the dead, I bring the breath of life. I hang the dry flowers of the land above in our bedroom, for nothing will grow in the Underworld--and though he can never be part of the common world, I can bring it to him, I can breathe life into his lungs, breathe flowers back around his heart. And so I have.

So you have, my love. She heard his thought and turned her face to him--he nodded, his eyes shining down at her, his tall frame towering over her. I heard everything. That was beautiful. My sweet Persephone, I love you more than every blossom of the spring, every growing thing that drops its heady perfume on a summer evening, more than the breath of my own body. Kiss me.

And so she did--as you have given me flowers, my love, so I will give them to you--all the flowers of my body and my soul.

------

Kenzie was delighted to see Harris again--he had rung Duncan’s bell a moment before, and as Duncan opened the long black penthouse door to receive him, Kenzie rushed up and threw her arms around the big man’s broad shoulders, dangling off him in the air suddenly like a kite flying in a gust of wind. Harris let out a little laugh, and Kenzie marveled at the way he held her up like she weighed no more than doll. He set her gently back to the earth, and Kenzie could feel Duncan’s smile on them, feel the blue flames of his mind lick against hers, his warm affection.

“I missed you,” she said up to her bodyguard, and Harris’ sepia-colored eyes were full of emotion.

“Miss Stone, I’ve agonized over what happened on Friday. In this line of work, we know things can sometimes go terribly wrong in a moment despite the most careful planning, but those scenarios are an escort’s worst nightmare. I have to apologize to you again--”

“No, Harris, you really don’t. You’re the reason I’m okay. You very well may have saved my life. I can’t thank you enough.” Kenzie grasped Harris’ huge hand, looking up into his face, her tone serious, affection and gratitude surging through her. “It’s my privilege to have you protecting me.”

“Harris, you did exactly what we hired you to do,” Duncan added. “You put your life in front of hers. You’re priceless to us and I meant what I said before, I intend to triple your salary. I can’t thank you enough.”

Harris was silent; Kenzie could see the overcome expression in his eyes--the burning tremor inside the friendliness. He only nodded a little, mouth closed, looking away from them,--Kenzie’s heart clenched, somehow knowing how close the big man with the wonderfully friendly smile was to tears, and she clutched his hand still, her fingers absolutely tiny, like a child’s, inside his--Harris’ hand was shivering in her grasp--then he said, very gently: “Miss Mackenzie, Mr. Shepherd. I’ll be waiting for you in the foyer,” and Kenzie let go of him, smiling up to him and nodding. “We’ll be there in just a minute, Harris.” She beckoned to him with her hands--Harris leaned down to her, as if she were about to whisper a secret into his ear--he had to bend quite far--and she pressed her lips to his cheek, and Kenzie thought--Harris, thank you, you are as noble as a knight protecting his queen to me, and I cherish you--and she pushed the thought into him, carefully, wondering if she could do it to anyone else, wondering if anyone else could feel something she wanted to give them the way Duncan could feel those things from her, and Kenzie watched Harris visibly shiver, his head still dipped down to her, then he straightened and his eyes were cloudy, confused, but full of warmth to her. He smiled, then--handsome, long, and then he left, and Kenzie could see that he was still shaking: this hugely tall, strong man, shaking because of her, and she knew it.

Duncan came up behind her, his arms coming around her with soft, wonderful warmth. “Baby, what did you do? What did you do to Harris? His face--he was shocked. Did you...did you think something into him?” Duncan’s mouth was at her ear, kissing with aching sensitivity, his breath sweet and the edges of his eyelashes fluttering against her skin. Kenzie sighed and leaned into him--”I tried--” he bit down on her skin, needily, his hands dipping around her breasts, and she moaned a little, arching up into the feeling of his mouth--”oh, baby, don’t leave marks on my neck--” “Too late for that, baby, you already have some from last night--some from me, some from your little rose choker, my little rose--” Duncan whispered into her, biting again, sucking--then Kenzie said “I tried--uhh, Duncan--I tried to tell him how much I cherish him, how he’s like a knight--p-protecting me, and I think he heard me, baby, I think he could hear me at least a little, I think I can push things into people--good things, lovely things, kindness, thanks, my...uhhh, baby--” and Duncan was turning her into his mouth, tasting her deeply, lifting her up into him, and Kenzie thought oh fuck work, fuck the world, I wanna just dissolve back into bed with you, fuck--and she heard him whisper back into her mind me too, Kenzie, me too, I wanna worship my goddess all day, I want to lay down my soul for you, make myself an offering to you as I worship your mouth and your body and the space between your thighs and she pushed down and away from him, their breathing heavy and harsh and drifting between them, and she laughed, “You have to stop, Dunny, we have to go to your interview now, baby, Samuel and Harris are waiting for us--” and Duncan’s hands clutched for her again, and she couldn’t bring herself to push him away again, such was the sweetness of his touch, the rightness of his hands on her body, drifting down to her thighs and the top of her ass, couldn’t deny him the golden melding of their minds as he gazed down at her, his eyes penetrating the center of her soul with their divine esteem for her.

“Fucking goddess,” he breathed. “My Persephone. My moon princess.”

“Baby, fuck--stop saying those beautiful things, we have to go--”

“I won’t, I won’t stop, I want to say every beautiful thing ever said or thought into your ears and into your mind and into the secret spaces of your soul, baby, my angel--” His mouth was dipping down the incline of Kenzie’s chin, to the soft, sensitive, delicate incline of her neck, into the dip of her collarbone (Kenzie’s breath sucked into her lungs, and she felt her heart racing terribly), down to the fabric that covered the space between her breasts, lifting her up into him effortlessly. “Baby,” she said, “god, that feels so good--I think I can make people feel happy if I try to, I can--uhh, baby--I can heal them, inside, I can give them a little part of me, a tiny bit of gold, a sliver of sunlight, and warm them, not their body, but give them peace in their--Dunny, fuck--in their--”

“You can heal people’s hearts,” he whispered, his mouth coming back up into hers, nibbling at her bottom lip, and Kenzie thought oh my fucking god, fuck me, my sweet Prince, turning me into dripping honey in your hands--”you can reach into them and heal the part of their soul that is hurting, my darling, my beloved. It’s extraordinary. You’ve healed me, and you can heal others, and I’m in awe of you.”

“I still don’t know how to do it, though--not really--how to control it--”

“You just did it, baby. You did it for Harris. If you intend to heal, if you’re trying to, I think you can do it better, stronger, but I think you can already do it without trying, without even needing to think about it,” he said, hands in her hair, and Kenzie knew he was right. I’ve healed you without thinking about it. “Dunny--I think you’ve done that for me too, though--I think you’ve healed me just by touching me, just by being near me, over and over--”

“I think I can do it too--not as well as you can, but a little, I can do it if I really try, if I really love the person--as I love you. But I think I’ve never known about it until now--I never knew, because it was hidden inside me before.” His mouth was kissing along her jaw now, his words between, his hands falling through her tawny hair over and over, sending bursts of warmth through her skin. “But I think you brought it out of me, like you opened a secret box inside me, one that was locked with a hundred impossible locks,” Duncan kissed her nose, the delicate space under her eyes, one, then the other, and the radiant happiness on his face made Kenzie want to cry, “and when you first touched me, Kenz--when you did, all of the locks immediately unwound, and my soul, my real soul--the sun that was hiding--it broke out, and you’ve brought me to life for real, Kenzie. You’ve kindled my spirit.”

“And we’ll do wonders, won’t we, Duncan. Now we will. Together, we’ll do wonders, my love.” She could feel her gold dust and his blue fire twisting around each other, could almost see them touching, the essences of both of them, imperceptible to her eyes but visible to her mind, in the early morning light, in the bright kitchen, sunlight falling across her succulents that lined the window, sunlight kissing their skin as they touched and felt each other, their bodies, their souls--

“Yes, baby. Yes, we fucking will.”

-------

Sweet, wonderful you, you make me happy with the things you do, oh, can it be so, this feeling follows me wherever I go...

Fleetwood Mac was on the BMW’s stereo again as Samuel pulled away from the curb; the back of the car was deeply cool despite the crushing heat outside today and he and Harris were chatting quietly in the front seat as the partition floated up. Kenzie was gazing at Duncan (he was wearing his Givenchy sunglasses today, the perfect wave of his hair mesmerizing her), his hand on her thigh, his gaze angled down at his phone (Instagram, and Kenzie smiled, seeing that he had her profile open, admiring the photo she’d taken last night of the dinner they’d made together--typing something, smiling--Kenzie tried to lean over his shoulder to read it, but at that moment she heard her phone trumpet a text from the inside of her Margaux satchel on the seat beside her. She pulled it out, the fingers of her other hand around his where it rested on her over her skirt, warm and sweetly heavy, and stared at the screen--Clairebear.

Clairebear: Kenzie Lou, Morgan is hard at work on your dress, it’ll be finished by Wednesday or Thursday--I’ll send you some photos soon, but make sure Duncan isn’t around when you look at them, we have to keep it a surprise!!! He’s going to lose his MIND. Morgan wanted to know if he’d be open to looking at some sketches she made for a look for him, also, can you ask him? She could work on something quickly if he could come by for measurements today or tomorrow. I think it would be amazing if you could coordinate your looks--America’s new favorite It couple DUCKENZIE have you been reading the stuff people have been posting? Everyone is OBSESSED with you two. It’s insane. Your Instagrams are the top two in trending since you posted those beach pictures over the weekend.

Kenzie saw the text bubbles that indicated Claire was writing again.

Clairebear: Here’s the article that went up this morning on BPF by the way. Then there was a link with a headline: DUNCAN SHEPHERD’S NEW BOO MACKENZIE STONE MOVES INTO HIS PENTHOUSE AFTER ONLY WEEKS OF DATING (yeah, because you found my apartment and swarmed it, Kenzie thought, with a jab of annoyance). The photo in the link was one of Kenzie’s Instagram photos--the one she’d posted of her sun and moon chimes with the long living room picture window in the background. She felt Duncan’s eyes looking at her phone over her shoulder; his large frame pressing against her back, his cheek hovering near her hair.

“Is that Claire,” he said, his lips kissing her temple. “Does she always send you the articles?”

“Not always, I don’t think. But sometimes. I’d rather hear about them from her than someone random person. And it’s not like we didn’t expect this one.”

“Better that everyone knows, they’re less likely to bother you if they know the Shepherd name is protecting you, honestly, baby. I threatened to yank their press credentials from the Gala if they didn’t stop coming around the high-rise, and that seems to have done the trick.” Duncan’s finger trailed down Kenzie’s leg, back and forth.

“Morgan wanted to know if you’d look at some sketches she drew for the Gala for you, by the way,” Kenzie said, looking up at him; he was peering at her over the top of his sunglasses, hair on his forehead, his long elegant hand clutching her leg, his clothing perfectly tailored and dark as evening. So handsome. So fucking handsome. He’s obscenely beautiful and it’s like he’s from another world. Duncan reached for her other hand and Kenzie set her phone in her lap, threading her fingers into his. He’s so warm, so lovely, he smells so good. My beloved.

“Of course I will, Kenz. I’d love for our looks to coordinate, baby. I guess I somehow knew I should put off finding my look until the last minute,” he grinned at her. His teeth are so perfect. His smile is like the clouds breaking on a rosy sunset. Ridiculous, baby. You’re ridiculous. How can anyone be so beautiful? Kenzie could feel the blush on her cheeks--she looked away from him, feeling shy suddenly.

“Stop thinking that stuff about me.” He pulled her into him; his body, so much larger than hers, enveloped her in the cocoon of his affection, and Kenzie felt faint inside it, felt herself go limp with the ardency of his touch. “You’re the one who’s ridiculously beautiful. You’re my moonlight.” Kenzie blushed more deeply into him as he took his sunglasses off, carelessly discarding them on the seat beside them, his hand coming back up to clutch her at the spot under her ear.

“Maybe we could go over there after we’re done with Ben’s interview?”

“Uh huh, Miss Stone. Whatever you want, Miss Stone. May I kiss you, Miss Stone?” His face hovered near her cheek, his breath sweet on her, his smell intoxicating, washing over her in waves, reminding her of his needy sex buried in her, his body pressed against her in the dark as they felt each other a few nights ago, immersed in their other senses, his mouth between her legs, his hands on her neck against the leather choker, all the nights that had passed with them locked in each other’s embrace, and it never felt like enough, it never felt long enough--

“You may.”

Duncan’s lips came against hers with aching velvet-softness; he hovered there for a long moment, his mouth open to her, and Kenzie became acutely aware of the feeling of him, the shivering tenderness of his touch--he lifted his head a little, and the bottom of his lip touched against the upper part of her mouth--he let it hover there for another achingly long moment, and Kenzie felt a deep shudder course through her body, down into her sex. It’s like he’s tasting my heart. She turned her head, lost in the feeling of him--her eyes had fluttered closed, and she felt drunk on him, drunk with his beauty and his attention on her this way; this concentration of his touch, so focused on her, the whisper of his mouth, like the soft flesh of a swollen fruit. The BMW was gliding through traffic with its careful ease, and Kenzie forgot where they were for a moment--she forgot everything except for the way Duncan was hovering against her, teasing her with his mouth. His thumb came up to press against her bottom lip, running along its edge and pressing it down, his lips still hanging on the top of her mouth, clutching her jaw gently but insistently. Duncan moved his mouth down again, his lips closing over just her bottom lip now, just a little, just enough to suck there lightly--Kenzie moaned against him in frustration, and she felt his smile.

“Stop teasing me, baby,” she said.

“Make me.”

Kenzie’s eyes snapped open; he was still nibbling at her bottom lip, his expression both stunningly beautiful and vexing to her, and she grasped his wrists--one at her cheek, the other on her thigh--and pushed his arms back into the BMW’s leather seat, her phone falling off her lap to the car’s floor as she climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Fine, baby, I fucking will. Kenzie knew she wasn’t strong enough to really control him this way--that he was letting her hold his arms down. You want me to do this, she thought, and his eyes opened, wildly bright (the blue of a field of cornflowers blooming in the sun) desirous and hungry. She could hear Stevie’s voice echoing through the stereo, coaxing her on--rock on ancient queen, follow those who pale in your shadow--and Kenzie let go of his wrists and clutched Duncan’s face in her little hands, demandingly, running her nails up his jaw with just enough pressure to force his head up to her, along the stubble there that she loved so, and he moaned against her fingers, and she kissed him, then, roughly, possessively, still clutching his face harshly against her, and Kenzie could feel him leaning into her, greedy and desperate, relieved at her want, starving for it. I want you to tell me what you want, what to do, command me, make me worship you, he was thinking into her, and Kenzie’s nerves were thrilling, singing, her body stoking itself into high flames of powerful desire. You are the light of my life and I long to fulfill your needs, long to fulfill every desire you dream of. I’m your faithful lover, most devoted, most ardent. I’m yours to do with what you will. You are beloved to me--more than anything. Above all things.

Kenzie pulled back and her hand fell down to his throat--she could feel the power of him under her hand, the strength coiled there, strength enough to whip her hand away from him if he desired to--but he leaned into her grasp, eagerly, anticipant. Choke me, baby.

Kenzie squeezed, and she heard Duncan gasp quietly, the air constricted from his lungs. His hands were on the incline between her back and the rise of her ass, clutching her flush against him, grinding his crotch up into the space between her legs. Kenzie lowered her mouth down, near to his, but didn’t let it touch him, not yet--God, you’re so fucking beautiful, baby, and I’ll think it as much as I want, she pressed into him, her thought dusted in gold. I could eat you like cake, Dunny. Lemme eat you, baby. You smell like fucking sex. She saw Duncan’s eyes go wide as he heard her thoughts, saw his tongue come out to his top lip, licking along the edge--go ahead and eat me, Princess, I’m yours to devour, Kenzie, baby, please fucking kiss me.

As Kenzie went to kiss him, though, her hand still on his neck, his grip pressing her into him, his eyes falling closed, she saw, with a jolt of painful disappointment, that Samuel was pulling up to One Franklin Square. “Fuuuuck,” she whined, pressing her mouth onto his in frustrated defiance--Duncan’s eyes were closed and he leaned into her with abandon, his tongue twining against hers, not having realized they had arrived yet--”Dunny, baby, ugh, we have to go,” she murmured into him, loosening her grip on his neck. Duncan groaned into her, his eyes opening, disappointment and longing in his (sky, storm, thunder-heavy clouds) eyes. “Ughhh, fuck, baby…”

“Rain check, baby. I promise. You like me choking you, huh?”

“Yes,” he whispered into her, into the space between her breasts, his mouth moving down there, up again, more hasty kisses pressed to her open mouth. “Yes, baby, I love it.”

“I’ll do it to you later, baby. I’ll tie you up later and let you watch me put on that black lingerie, how about that?”

Duncan’s eyes lifted up to hers and then rolled back a little, his mouth opening as she pressed down onto his crotch, still straddling him, gripping his jaw hard once more, quickly--the car was coming to a stop and soon Harris would be pulling the door open--”I’ll tie you up and choke you and suck your big cock later, baby,” Kenzie whispered into his mouth, and Duncan’s lips trembled under her, and she felt coiled gold power pilling in the pit of her stomach, drunk with the sensation of speaking these fantasies into her lover, so wildly beautiful as he was, so much larger than her, so much stronger, and yet so abject in her hands, so prostrate to her touch. So in love with me. So devoted to me. My Prince. My Hades. His power bows to mine.

“Yes, please, Kenzie, baby--” then she was climbing off him, and she could see the flush in his cheeks, the almost painful look in his eyes at the loss of her touch--they hastily pressed together one more time and kissed achingly as Harris opened the front passenger door, and then broke apart just as hastily as he opened Kenzie’s door, his neck turning away from them to peer at the paps who had begun to notice the telltale BMW.

“Baby, you have lipstick on your face,” Kenzie whispered to Duncan, bringing her thumb up to the side of his mouth, where her pink lipstain had smeared on his cheek. “There.” Duncan quickly gripped her hand, his eyes boring into her (I can’t wait to be alone with you at home, our sanctuary, our secret place where no one else can follow us, where we can worship each other with no distractions), then let go of her as she turned to get out of the car, clutching her satchel. He followed her out and Kenzie watched the tide of paps swarm towards them. Her mind was hot and frustrated from the interruption of their passionate moment--oh, fuck this, she thought. 

Then, Kenzie noticed something--two girls who clearly were not paps standing closeby on the sidewalk, excited expressions on their faces. One of them (short and boxy, in tennis shoes and jeans and a lavender-colored t-shirt with a graphic Kenzie couldn’t make out, a sandy-brown bob haircut and glasses, a pink backpack, and a bouquet of a dozen red roses wrapped in white, crinkly plastic clutched in her hand) was pointing at Kenzie and Duncan, the other girl (tall and thin with freckles and curly auburn hair, wearing a similar t-shirt in pink and a short denim skirt and ballet flats) was whispering to her excitedly, a newspaper clutched in her hand carefully--not just any newspaper, Kenzie thought, the Post. They noticed Kenzie looking at them and waved a little. “Mackenzie, we love you!” the curly-haired one shouted out. Oh my god, Kenzie thought. I have fucking fans. Duncan was looking over at the girls with an amused, indulgent expression on his face. Kenzie could see the tide of paps fast approaching--Harris was reaching for her arm, murmuring “Miss Stone, it’s time for us to go,” to her in a clipped voice. But Kenzie glanced back at the girls who waved to her with excited smiles on their faces again--the curly-haired girl bounced on her feet, and the girl with the bob haircut stepped forward a few paces, hesitant but determined.

Fuck you, paps, Kenzie thought suddenly, defiant. I’m gonna be such an angel you’re going to fall over yourselves. Watch this. She immediately stepped towards the girls, reaching out behind her and grabbing Duncan’s hand, pulling him insistently along as she trotted over to them in the black-tie wedge sandals she’d chosen to wear today. The girls gave her wild-eyed stares as she approached, and Kenzie smiled brilliantly at them.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” the shorter girl with the bob breathed--her cheeks were deeply red. “Oh my god, these are for you, Mackenzie--” she held the roses in the plastic sheet out to Kenzie and Kenzie looked in her face, steadily, keeping the smile in her gaze.

“Oh, wow, thank you, they’re so beautiful! Hi, what’s your name?”

Harris was coming up behind Duncan, a dark look of concern in his eyes. “Miss Mackenzie, we really should go inside,” he murmured down to her as the paps swarmed up, a pudgy-faced man in a leather jacket and his cameraman at his shoulder at the forefront--I think Duncan called him Gary, Kenzie thought vaguely, he’s from BPF. Kenzie ignored Harris carefully, still smiling at the girl. She noticed with a shock of surprise that the girls’ shirts were screen-printed with one of the photos of her and Duncan from their night at Le Diplomate--the first photos the paps had gotten of them and put up on the gossip website--the first one she’s seen on her phone after Claire had sent the link to her, where Kenzie was shyly staring up at Duncan and he was glancing across at her, wildly handsome, holding her hand. DUCKENZIEFANS.COM was printed along the bottom of the shirts, in swirling gold script. Oh my god, what.

“Lindy,” the girl said (at least that’s what it sounded like, Kenzie thought), and Kenzie could see that she was on the verge of tears. “Oh my god, hi Duncan, oh my god, wow--” Duncan was smiling at her indulgently over the rim of his sunglasses, and he reached out for the flowers. “Here, I’ll hold them for her, okay?” The girl passed the roses off to Duncan, her blush deepening to a color almost close to purple, and Kenzie could see the way her hands were shaking. Kenzie reached out to her, grasping her hand--”Wow, did you make your shirts yourselves? They’re so lovely!” The girl nodded and Kenzie saw the first tear spill down her cheek. Kenzie leaned over to the girl and gave her a little squeeze--she felt the tension in the girl’s shoulders soothe as she did. “It’s so nice to meet you, Lindy, it’s okay.”

The curly-haired girl was bouncing on her feet behind her friend, making strangled sounds of excitement. “Kenzie, could you please sign your article for me? Ohmygodohmygodohmygod you’re both sooooo beautiful together,” and she held out the copy of the Post and a blue sharpie to Kenzie as the paps began to swarm around them in a thick cloud--Kenzie grinned widely at her, batting her eyelashes showily as the cameras began to click around them in a cacophony, and Duncan’s hand pressed protectively into Kenzie’s lower back--Harris was giving Gary’s cameraman a dark look as he tried to press closer to Kenzie’s face, angling his camera down on her, and the man skittered back, still clicking. “Back up,” Harris said in a low voice, and the paps closest to him moved back, obediently, at least for the moment. “Miss Mackenzie, we need to go.” His tone was dark. “I agree, Kenz, this is too close,” Duncan said into her ear, but Kenzie didn’t let her expression falter--she gripped the sharpie, still smiling warmly between Lindy and her curly-haired friend. “And what’s your name, sweetie? So I can write it out.”

“Gabby, my name’s Gabby, with a y at the end, we have a fan club for you, if you could write that too, it’s DUCKENZIEFANS.com, thank you Kenzie, thank you so much--” Gabby tossed her hair a little, another little squeal coming out of her at the end of her words. “It’s so wonderful to meet you, Mackenzie, we love you so much, we love you both so much, you’re like angels!” Kenzie tried to block out the sound of the cameras with a determined stubbornness--she could hear questions beginning to rise over the crowd of paps (“MACKENZIE DUNCAN ARE YOU LIVING TOGETHER NOW WHO ARE YOU WEARING TO THE GALA THIS WEEKEND OVER HERE MACKENZIE DUNCAN OVER HERE OVER HERE”), and she fought to focus on the two girls, leaning over the square of her editorial on the bottom of the front page, writing out To Gabby and Lindy and everyone at DUCKENZIEFANS.COM you’re the best xoxo Kenzie Stone. “It’s wonderful to meet both of you, too,” she said to them, carefully, still smiling, tucking her hair behind her ear, glancing up into their faces--she heard another cascade of clicks as the cameras caught the moment. Duncan was gripping her arm now, his fingers going tight, and she knew he was worried, glancing up at his face quickly--his lips were pressed in a thin line and he was looking at her over his sunglasses, his eyes stormy with urgency. Baby, we gotta go, this is dangerous. “I’ll be sure to look at the website, I’m sure you’ve worked so hard on it,” she said, and Kenzie felt the tingly burst of warm energy from Duncan course through her arm. Angel. My love. You’re so kind to everyone.

“We have, oh my god, we’ve been working on it every day, thank you Kenzie!” Gabby said with another long squeal, and Kenzie handed her the newspaper and the sharpie--she was surprised at how steady her own hand was, as if it belonged to someone else. Lindy had her phone out--the back had a sticker, another printed photo of Kenzie and Duncan, this one of the shot Kenzie had posted on Instagram of them in the back of the BMW with the neon shadows over their faces. Jesus christ, this is surreal, Kenzie thought.

“Can we take a picture with you really quickly?” Lindy pleaded. Kenzie nodded and pulled Duncan against her (you too baby), beckoning to Gabby. “Real quick, first Gabby then Lindy, okay?” She tucked her arm around Gabby’s curly hair and Lindy held her phone up, hands still shaking--Kenzie smiled widely as the short girl pressed the button on her phone a few times in succession, then Gabby reached out to her and they switched--Gabby mimicked her friend’s actions, still letting out little squeals of wild excitement, then Kenzie let go of the short girl and let Duncan begin to pull her away with an iron grip--Harris moved around her back, his arms extended a little as a perimeter around the paps. Duncan pushed past Gary, who was trying to tuck a microphone under his mouth again. Kenzie waved back at the girls (they waved back, more tears falling down Lindy’s cheek, Gabby still bouncing up and down), then turned her body into Duncan’s as they quickly stepped through the loud crowd of paps, which parted for them reluctantly, following behind them closely.

“Mackenzie, are you living with Duncan now?” someone said. Kenzie glanced up, feeling Duncan’s hand tighten on her--they were still a few yards away from the entrance of One Franklin Square. It had been Gary, who had switched his microphone from Duncan’s cheek to hers--Harris was moving around to where the pudgy man was shuffling beside her, and Gary’s watery eyes were dodging between her and the big man advancing on him.

“I am, yeah. It’s Gary, right?” She gave him a little smile, still letting Duncan drag her along--they’d almost made it to the door now..

Gary looked a little surprised, his eyebrows raising, mouth popping open. “Yep--yeah, uh, Gary Spencer for buzzpopfeed. Uhh, can I say, you look lovely today, Mackenzie.”

“It’s nice to meet you, thank you,” Kenzie smiled again, this time with her teeth. Not really, but yanno. Gotta start somewhere. I’m not going to hide from you guys anymore. If this is my life now, so be it. I can do this. “I’ll make sure you get some good shots of us the Gala this weekend, how’s that sound?”

“That would be great, Miss Stone, that would be stellar, thank you--”

“You can call me Mackenzie, that’s okay, that’s fine, Gary.” She nodded at him a little, eyes skirting over to Duncan--he was coming up to the door, his expression unreadable but his grip on her having lessened a little, as though her words to the pudgy man were soothing him, too. “I have to go to work now, but yes, Duncan and I are living together now, and everything is wonderful. Thanks, Gary.” Gary stared at her, a dumbfounded look in his eyes--the other paps around him were still shouting at her and Duncan, trying to get her attention, but Harris was gently pushing her from behind as Duncan pulled her through the doorway of the building--Duncan still wasn’t speaking or showing any sign of how he was feeling, clutching the roses the girl had given her in his long hand. The paps lingered outside, the wave of them coming to an abrupt halt, aware of the building’s recently heightened security as the door snapped shut, cutting off the sound. Duncan continued to pull Kenzie through the downstairs foyer, towards the elevators--Kenzie saw Erin, the receptionist, glance up at them (she had purple eyeshadow today, her shorn bob perfectly styled) and Kenzie nodded to her, smiling. Erin nodded a little back at her, eyes skirting between Duncan and Harris on either side of her. Kenzie shrugged. My knights in shining armor. Erin gave her a nervous smile.

Once they were in the elevator, Kenzie spoke. “Harris, I’m sorry, I needed to do that. I needed to give them...something. I couldn’t just ignore those girls. Thank you for bearing with me.” Harris nodded at her, clearing his throat a little as his huge form stood beside her, Duncan on her left, taking his sunglasses off, staring down at her--his eyes were bright. He’s amazed at what I just did out there, she knew, suddenly shy of him.

“Miss Stone, that could have gone very badly,” Harris replied. “The danger outweighed the benefits, in my view. Excuse my bluntness, but if we’re going to avoid more situations like the one from last week, we have to be more careful.”

“I understand that. But I needed to do that. I needed to show them. And I needed to be kind to those girls.”

“I see, Miss Stone.” Harris’ body had relaxed slightly; his hands were carefully clasped together over his stomach, and his expression was lowering, back to one of neutral friendliness.

“Kenzie,” Duncan said, and his hand came out of hers, pressing against her shoulder. “That was wonderful. You were perfect. I know exactly what you were doing. You were placing the foundations for a rapport. And the way you were with those girls--that was absolutely adept, baby.”

She grinned at him. Yes, baby, yes. I knew you’d understand. “Did you see their shirts? Did you see the sticker on her phone? Like oh my god. Did you know about the fan club thing?”

“I saw a post online about it--I haven’t looked at the site yet,” Duncan laughed, his hand coming up to his jaw, rubbing along his bottom lip. “You were so good with them, baby. You’re such a doll to everyone.” Despite Harris being there, Duncan pulled her against him anyway, pressing a quick kiss into her mouth, the crinkly paper of the roses in her ears.

“Are you ready for the formidable force of Ben Wilder?” Kenzie grinned into his kiss.

“Probably not?” He laughed again, nervously.

“I wouldn’t worry too much. You’re look so good today, he’s going to be distracted.” Kenzie hooked her fingers around the lapels of his blazer, her mouth pressing down onto his chin.

“Every little bit helps to convince him to hold the article until everything’s finalized,” Duncan replied, eyes falling on the elevator doors as they slid open on the 10th floor. Zadie happened to be walking past, her arms full of copies, wearing a long dark pantsuit and block-heeled black boots today, her extremely long, straight, shiny hair swaying down her back. She glanced up and lifted a hand to Kenzie, smiling, eyes skittering over the two men with her--she waved a little at Harris too. They’d met on Friday, before the incident, and Harris gave her a warm smile and a nod. “Miss Zadie,” he said, his voice pleasant and low.

“Zadie, this is Duncan,” Kenzie stepped out of the elevator. Duncan gave the tall girl a brilliant smile, reaching out his hand. Zadie took it, carefully clutching the copies to her chest. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself on Friday,” Duncan said, still clutching the roses in one hand--Harris inclined a hand to them, and Duncan handed them off to the taller man, nodding at him gratefully. “I was so concerned about Kenzie, it was all such a blur.”

“Oh, it’s fine, geez,” Zadie said in her low voice, letting go of Duncan’s hand and tossing her hair off her shoulder, “we were all worried. I’m so glad she’s okay. I guess they’re keeping the guy for a mental health evaluation and a combined trespassing and assault charge. Speaking of which--Kenz, I think there’s a court order on your desk. They probably want you to testify.”

“Oh, great,” Kenzie said, biting into her lip. “Can’t wait.”

Zadie winced at her. “Sorry, babe. Really glad you’re alright. I gotta go--lots of copy to do today. It was nice to officially meet you, Duncan--and nice to see you again, Harris. Thank you for what you did for Kenzie.” Zadie smiled at them, her gaze lingering on Kenzie for the longest, her eyes warm. She’d been Copy Editor at the Post for as long as Kenzie had been working there as a staff journalist, and she’d always been extremely kind and professional to Kenzie. Kenzie could feel that the other girl really was relieved for her. Zadie is a peach.

“Miss Mackenzie, Mr. Shepherd, I’ll be here if you need me,” Harris indicated a row of chairs near the elevators, setting the roses down in one of them. “It’s easier to see everyone coming in and out of the room if I’m near the doors.”

“Thank you, Harris,” Duncan said. Kenzie gripped his hand again and pulled him to where Candice and Ben’s office doors were, across from each other. She could see Candice’s golden head bent over her desk through the clear window into her side, the blinds open--Candice glanced over and saw them, giving them a little smile, nodding at Kenzie. Duncan noticed this exchange and leaned down to Kenzie’s ear. “Should I tell Candice about the plan today?”

“Let’s wait a little longer, baby,” Kenzie replied, pulling him towards Ben’s office door. There was a placard: BEN WILDER, EXECUTIVE FEATURES, ASSOCIATE EDITOR. His outward-facing blinds were closed. “There’s so much going on this week already. Let’s tell her after our trip, our getaway--” Kenzie felt his hands come around her, passionately, at the mention of their trip, and Kenzie felt weak in the intensity of his arms. “Fuck, baby, I can’t wait, I can’t wait to be alone with you for days, away from everyone, our secret place--” he whispered down into her ear, and she leaned her face into him as Duncan kissed under her ear. “Duty calls first, baby,” she breathed. “We have responsibilities, Mr. Shepherd.”

“Fuck responsibilities,” Duncan whispered into her ear, and Kenzie felt her knees buckle a little inside his embrace, the feeling of his mouth (god he’s so tall and so warm and fuck he feels so soft and smells so good)--she twisted out of his hold, catching Candice’s eye through her office window--Candice was glancing at them with a smile around her mouth, pressing her lips together, smirking with interest. Kenzie blushed, pressing an accusatory finger into Duncan’s chest. He was grinning at her with a perverse beauty, and she felt a flash of annoyance at the depth of his charm, his ability to disarm her entirely with a few short movements of his hands and his body against her. “Stoppit, Mr. Shepherd. I demand that you control yourself.”

“Yes, Miss Stone. I apologize, Miss Stone.” She could feel his thoughts drifting against her. Can’t wait for you to choke me with your tight little fingers and tie me to that hook and make me watch you dress in that tight little beautiful black lingerie, baby, can’t wait for you to tease my cock with your little hands and your beautiful little mouth, baby, my Kenzie--”please forgive me, Miss Stone.”

Kenzie let her breath shudder out and stared into his blue (ocean depths, sucking me down) eyes, shaking her head at him. Then she leaned over and knocked on Ben’s door sharply, three taps.

“Come innnn,” she heard Ben’s voice, drawn out. She glanced at Duncan again--his face had lost the mischievous glint he’d been giving her a moment before, and was now a mask of professionalism. A real pro, stony Duncan Shepherd, she thought towards him. But I can see your thoughts still, my naughty baby, I know what you want, my desirous Prince. She could see how badly he wanted to touch her again, see the shape of his need to feel her, and Kenzie opened Ben’s door and turned away from him, teasingly. Be patient. You have to wait.

-------

“So, Mr. Duncan Shepherd, here in my office,” Ben rolled his eyes theatrically, pursing his lips, but Kenzie could see the delight on his face, the satisfied smile hovering just under his dark, flawless skin. He pressed his fingers down into the edges of his long desk, peering at Duncan, who was sitting in one of the seats across from him, Kenzie in the other--Duncan seemed relaxed, his legs crossed, his hands in his lap, but Kenzie could feel the nervous energy of his thoughts beneath his convincing composure. Everything is gonna be fine, baby, she thought into him, and he glanced at her, then back to Ben, not saying anything. Kenzie could already see the mesmerizing effect he was having on Ben, though; the older man was staring at Duncan openly now

Today Ben was wearing a wine-colored velvet jacket with blue lapels, a navy cashmere turtleneck underneath. His glasses were rectangular with tortoiseshell frames along only the top rim, and there was long, beautiful gold-and-black rose lapel pin against his blazer. He looked extravagant and handsome, but all beauties paled next to Duncan, and Kenzie felt sure Ben was aware of that. Duncan’s sublimely handsome face seemed to be shaking Ben’s normally impregnable composure--Kenzie watched his eyes fall down Duncan’s waving hair, pushed back effortlessly from his forehead, into his piercingly blue flame eyes, his straight nose and full lips, the carefully-maintained stubble along his chiseled jaw, the raw masculinity of his throat, to his tailored black blazer and textured button-up, the incline of his long legs and flawless boots, the round, silent face of his black watch--Kenzie noticed Ben’s eyes lingering on Duncan’s beautifully long hands. Aren’t they, she thought. Aren’t they the most beautiful hands you’ve ever seen. She watched Ben’s lips part slightly, his breathing hitch. Yes, they can. Everything you’re imagining, they can do. They’ve made me writhe with pleasure every night. Kenzie blushed down at her phone in her hands, blushed at the wantonness of her own thoughts, sitting here in her editor’s office. She absently opened Instagram as she heard Duncan reply--”I was told you were most insistent with Mackenzie that I see you,” he said, a teasing edge in his voice. “She communicated to me that it was of the utmost importance.” Kenzie blanched at her follower count--1.7k million. She absently went to the photo she’d taken last night of their dinner, curious at whatever he’d left as a comment on it--she scrolled down and saw it immediately. @duncanshepherd: dessert was even better, followed by the heart with an arrow through it. Oh my fucking god, baby, she thought. The comment had thousands of likes already, despite him only having posted it less than an hour before. Kenzie came to another dawning realization at the tone Duncan was using with Ben--Oh my god, Duncan is going to flirt with him. He’s going to make sure Ben agrees to postpone publishing the interview by giving him eyes. Oh my god, baby. You’re fucking sly.

“Well,” Ben said, fingers pressing up against his chest, languidly, drifting along his lapel around the rose pin--god, it’s really working already, Ben’s absolutely flustered, I’ve never seen him this way--”I do tend to be direct, but I couldn’t let the opportunity pass me by. You are a deeply interesting character, Mr. Shepherd.”

“I suppose I should say thank you for that,” Duncan replied, and then he smiled at Ben--Kenzie watched her editor’s eyelids flutter at the loveliness of her boyfriend’s smile, his white teeth cocked towards the other man, his eyes dancing. You are laying it on thick, Kenzie thought, fighting a wild urge to smack him. “I’m at your disposal, Mr. Wilder. But I have one stipulation, and I do require your discretion.”

Ben leaned forward in his seat--Kenzie could see the interest and arousal in him at Duncan’s careful, suggestive speech. “I’m listening.” His hand was on his chin, his eyes not wavering from Duncan’s (erotically, angelically) handsome face.

Duncan’s tone shifted suddenly--from casual eroticism to one of serious sincerity. “My uncle is fatally ill with prostate cancer. He will likely not live to see August. At that time, I will gain the majority share in the organization heretofore known as Shepherd Unlimited--a 3.5 billion dollar enterprise. When that happens, I will be shifting the prerogatives of the company towards philanthropy, and away from corporate interest. I would like to elucidate on that in this interview--but I cannot do that if you’re planning on making it public before the transfer of majority share happens in real time. I can certainly make it worth your while to wait, professionally-speaking--and if you can confirm your discretion is assured, we can discuss the particulars of that today.”

Ben’s mouth popped open a little. I guess that’s not what you expected to hear, Kenzie thought, still sitting quietly. “What kind of worthwhile are we talking here.”

“Financial or professional worth, it’s up to you. I’m not against one last bribe to help shift the company towards a better and more fulfilling future. Kenzie and I are committed to our goals and I will do whatever it takes to make them a reality.”

“You’re going to make Shepherd Unlimited a vehicle for philanthropy.” Ben’s tone was incredulous. And the Foundation?”

“Agree to the terms, please, Mr. Wilder.”

Ben’s face broke out into a smile that surprised Kenzie utterly--he’s happy. What?

“Mr. Shepherd, my word. Is this her doing?” Ben crooked a finger at Kenzie. “Little Miss Stone convinced you to literally move one of the most successful and powerful companies on earth towards a progressive agenda in the span of a week? I am absolutely speechless.”

“Mackenzie is extremely special. She’s a singular person who defies ordinary parameters of speech. She’s much more than she appears to be at first glance.” Duncan looked over at Kenzie, and Kenzie felt the wave of his affection cascade over her--felt the depth of feeling behind his eyes. Beloved. Exalted to me, most precious among all. “Yes, Mr. Wilder. Miss Stone was the catalyst of all this.”

Kenzie watched, still quiet, now full to the brim with emotion, watching as Ben stood, breathing in deeply, his eyes glittering. “I’m going to accept your terms, Mr. Shepherd--I won’t accept a bribe, at least, not a personal one--but I do want one thing.”

“And what’s that, Ben Wilder?”

“A generous donation to GLAAD, whence you gain majority share. It’s an organization that is very dear to me. With your financial support, it could become an even greater voice in the nation. With the financial momentum of Shepherd Unlimited behind it, we could do work that is truly transcendent for the inclusive goals of the LGBTQ community.”

Duncan replied almost immediately. “Yes. Absolutely. You have my word. As soon as I have financial control, it’s done.” He stood too, reaching his hand out to Ben, and the took men shook warmly. Kenzie felt suddenly overwhelmed with emotion--this is not how I expected this conversation to go at all, she thought, her breath hitching. This is wonderful.

“Then we most certainly have a deal. Duncan Shepherd, he of the piercing blue eyes, and Mackenzie Stone, his redemptive, intrepid love, about to be the most beloved public figures in America--” Ben sat down behind his desk again, a thoughtful expression on his face (I know that look, Kenzie thought: editorial in progress) and pressed the button on the recorder in front of him, picking a fountain pen from a copper holder beside the nameplate that faced outward toward Duncan and Kenzie. He leaned over the notepad in front of him, writing furiously for a moment as Duncan sat once more also, and both of the men were smiling--Kenzie felt the sun come out from behind a cloud, its warmth falling down through the window on them, bursting around her hair like an omen of good will as Ben began the interview. “So, tell me about your hopes for the future, Duncan…”

-----

They were back in the BMW a few hours later, on their way to Dupont Circle and Morgan’s studio. The interview with Ben had been a resounding success--Ben laughed no less than six times by Kenzie’s count, and by the end Ben was shyly touching his face and the rose at his lapel again, long since fallen prey to Duncan’s charm and aching loveliness. Being around Duncan is like a drug, Kenzie thought, like being around a Prince, a circlet of gold around his forehead, draped in dark velvets, smoldering blue fire burning in his gaze. He says I’m divine to him, and that shakes my bones--to be loved so much by someone so beautiful, to be the one he says brought his true beauty out from his soul. It makes me faint with the loveliness of it all. Kenzie had retrieved the roses the girl Lindy had given her from Harris after the interview and put them in a plastic vase from the staff kitchen, placing them on her desk before they left for the studio--they were simple, the kind one got from a grocery store--not the achingly fresh variety Duncan had bought for her. Still, she thought. Not everyone gets flowers from multiple admirers. Those girls were so sweet. It’s so strange to think I have a fan club now. She’d also opened the long manila envelope she found on her desk--the court summons Zadie had mentioned. The court date was two weeks away. Great, plenty of time to gt really nervous about it, Kenzie thought. She was lost in thoughts of the frightening encounter with the strange man when she felt Duncan’s warm, comforting touch on her leg.

“Kenz,” and Duncan was pressing his face down to her cheek, breathing in her smell, and she lifted her head so it was against his mouth. The day was still heavy with heat, the sun too bright and the clouds having disappeared; Duncan had been looking at his phone while Kenzie was drifting in her thoughts, but he had put it away, pressing against her, needy. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Why should you,” and she looked up at him, grinning. “You and all 2 million of my Instagram followers. Baby, that interview went so well, I can’t believe it. And Ben was so nice to you? He loved you. I’m just amazed. And we can do something good connected with it.”

“The interviews tomorrow are going to be hell. Mom already has forbidden us from talking very much, so we’ll likely end up just sitting around while they take photos. I’m sorry. It’s going to be a fucking drag.”

“I’m gonna wear that red dress, I think.” Kenzie looked up into his eyes, her hand coming around suggestively to his thigh. Duncan groaned softly, pressing the pads of his fingers into the soft side of her waist. “Oh my god, baby, yes please. I love that dress. I won’t be able to take my eyes off you.” “You’ll still be thinking about what I did to you when we got home--” and Kenzie pressed her fingers into the mound of his crotch, feeling gently, making his breath fall out in a harsh gasp. “What I’m gonna do to you soon--”

Samuel had pulled the BMW up to the sidewalk and Harris was coming out to Kenzie’s side of the car again, and Duncan groaned into her with frustration. “God, baby, fuck, I just wanna be alone with you, fuck everything else--” “As soon as we’re done here, baby--” and his mouth was crashing against hers again, impatient, devouring, and they pulled apart again as Harris snapped the door open. Kenzie tucked her disheveled hair behind her ears and slid out of the backseat, his scent all over her, like a tattoo that she couldn’t rub off.

Morgan’s studio in a squarish modern apartment building that held several other studios, all for various artists--one was a painter, another a sculptor, and there was a modest dance studio downstairs--Kenzie and Duncan went through the austere front lobby (it had what seemed like a hundred varieties of potted palms), Harris following at a close distance, eyes scanning carefully, and Kenzie led them through a doorway to a stairwell--”We’ll just avoid the elevator, it gets stuck sometimes,” she said to them over her shoulder, Duncan’s thumb trailing over her palm. Kenzie led them to the third floor, through a metal door back into a hallway with a row of studio doors--three in all. She went to the one furthest from the stairwell and pressed a buzzer to the side of it. A moment later Claire appeared, her face alight with happiness--”My babies!” she said gleefully, giving Kenzie a two-armed bear hug, then pressing an arm gently around Duncan’s shoulders for a moment, then, gave Harris an intrigued once-over.

“Clairebear, this is Harris, my bodyguard. He’s an absolute dream,” Kenzie smiled up at him, affectionately. Harris laughed at this, his sepia eyes dancing over Claire. “And who is this delightful creature?” He leaned down and kissed Claire’s hand--Claire’s eyes flashed and her cheeks reddened. “Oh my god, back at you, sir.” Claire waved a hand a few times over her face, as if to feign being overheated. “I’m Claire Anne Augustine, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance.” She dipped in a little curtsy and Harris laughed again. “Enchanting.”

“Come in, come in,” Claire beckoned to everyone, ushering them inside--Morgan’s studio was as brightly open as ever, the starkness of the black and white stripes immediate. Morgan was coming toward them, her wild orange hair striking against the walls. She leaned to Duncan, her hands in their customary long black gloves, and smiled magnanimously. “What a delight to finally meet the Shepherd heir apparent,” she cooed in her small voice. “And you’re more beautiful than even your celebrity would suggest, I see. I’m Morgan, my dear. Please call me such.”

Duncan dipped his head, shyly. “And please call me Duncan, Morgan. A pleasure.”

“Claire and dear Mackenzie have told me they wish her dress to remain a secret until the night of the Gala, so we’ve hidden our progress--but I think Mackenzie should also approve of my sketches regarding your own accoutrements for the night,” Morgan drolled. “A woman’s eye is everything in these matters, wouldn’t you agree.” She peered at Duncan over her huge, black triangular spectacles, as if to appraise his reaction. “I certainly do,” Duncan said, glancing over at Kenzie. “Kenzie has to love it or I certainly won’t wear it, no offense to you, Morgan.”

“None taken, my dear, in matters of the heart, true understanding is everything, isn’t it.” Morgan moved past everyone, not waiting for an answer--Claire beckoned to them as she followed behind Morgan’s huge orange wig, moving to a oblong, low white table where several sketchbooks were scattered. Morgan opened one with a dark leather cover to a spot she seemed to have marked with a long strip of shiny gold material--Kenzie’s heart thumped wildly at the sight of it, remembering the sketches Morgan had shown her for her dress. Morgan brought the open page over to Duncan, who gazed down at it--Kenzie saw his eyes widen and his head start to nod in approval, a satisfied smile on his mouth.

“Kenz, look,” he murmured to her, gently lifting the sketchbook toward her. On the page Morgan had drawn a dark blazer with wide lapels--down the shoulders dripped cascades of gold, like stars melting out of the sky, like some colossal god had been painting with them and smeared them earthwards with a careless hand. This is how it feels when you touch me, his mind brushed against hers as his hand touched hers under the sketchbook. Like your gold is melting down onto me.

“Duncan, it’s perfect,” Kenzie said, looking up at him and then at Morgan. Harris was standing quietly, surveying the expanse of Morgan’s studio--Claire was watching her and Duncan standing side by side, a look of deep affection in her eyes. In the drawing Morgan had given the model a black high-collared shirt with gold tips, and no tie. Very Duncan. She must have carefully considered his style.

“I agree,” Duncan said, and she could see how pleased he was, how delighted. “Morgan, I love it.”

Morgan breathed an overwrought sigh of relief; “Well, what cause for celebration,” she trilled. “Claire, get the champagne.”

“Whoo!” Claire whooped, running over to where a mini fridge (also painted black and white) was hiding in a curve against a tall fabric dresser. She pulled out a bottle of Moet and glanced up at Kenzie. “Kenzie, you’re only allowed to have one glass after the other night.”

“Oh fuck off, Claire,” but Kenzie was smiling at her best friend. Harris had gone over to Claire and was helping her hold several plastic coupes she was retrieving from a cupboard along the wall further down, a sink adjoining. “This isn’t the first time Morgan and I have had champagne in the early afternoon, so I probably should fuck off,” Claire replied. Harris took the bottle from her carefully, and Claire smiled up at him, coyly. “Why, thank you, Harris. What a gentleman.” Claire fucking loves Harris, wow. I mean--he is extremely handsome for an older man. And he’s...really strong. Kenzie snorted at her own thoughts. Maybe I could play matchmaker for my best friend and my bodyguard. Harris popped the cork of the bottle and poured it carefully into the coupes, and Kenzie watched his eyes follow Claire’s back as she came to where Duncan and Kenzie stood, passing two of the coupes to them as Duncan carefully set the sketchbook out of reach.

“To being on every best-dressed list and the front page of Vogue the morning after!” Morgan said to the ceiling as they all bumped the glasses together a moment later; Claire laughed into her hand as Duncan and Kenzie gazed at each other--this is how it feels when you touch me--his thought was still drifting between them, his eyes falling over her, and Kenzie was longing to be alone with him. I’ll touch you as much as you want, baby, she thought into him, pressing gold dust around his waving hair. I’ll drip my gold into your mouth and down your skin, draw sigils into your body with my gold, mark you as mine, beloved. We’re going to be so beautiful together at the Gala, no one will be able to look away from our radiance, the blinding golden sunlight of our love. Not even your mother.

------

Samuel had driven them home after that--it was early afternoon, just after 5, and the heat was pressing all around them, the champagne they’d had buzzing under Kenzie’s skin--she’d had just enough to kindle the desirous need in the pit of her belly, just enough to feel drunk. Morgan and Claire had had a tray of charcuterie for everyone as well, but Kenzie’s belly was rumbling with hunger--she’d only had a few pieces of the cheese and crackers, and remembered she’d only had the smoothie Duncan made her for breakfast. But I’m hungrier for you, she thought, feeling Duncan’s eyes on her as she stared out the window of the BMW on the National Mall, feeling the tips of his long fingers falling down her hand between them.

I’m starving for you, angel. I don’t wanna wait until tonight. I want you to do all those things to me as soon as we get home, while the sunset kisses us through the window, while I can see it fall over your skin. Then we can order so much take out. So fucking much. How does that sound?

“Dunny, baby, kiss me,” Kenzie turned her head and lifted her mouth to him, and Duncan was pulling her into his lap insistently, pulling her throat into his lips, whispering into her skin. “Kenzie, I can’t wait to see your dress, god, you’re going to look so beautiful, I can’t wait for us to change everything--it’s like everything is holding its breath--” Duncan kissed her mouth and his was so warm and tasted so sweet and Billie Holiday was on the stereo--all of me, why not take all of me, can’t you see I’m no good without you, take my lips, I want to lose them--and then he was speaking into her mind again, the softest, sweetest, most aching thoughts: I can’t wait for us to go to the cabin all alone for days and days and look at the stars while I fuck you in the long grass and by the fire and in the sweet darkness--you’ll see, it’s so quiet out there, no traffic, no shouting people, nothing but the crickets and the frogs at night and the wind and the sound of your sweet little cries against me, oh, baby, you smell so good, my angel, baby love--

Kenzie let out a little whine of frustration as they came up to the high-rise; the partition floated down but Kenzie was already sliding off Duncan and throwing the door open--a burst of warm summer air penetrated the cool cocoon of the backseat--”good night, Samuel and Harris!” Kenzie called behind her, and Harris, who had been about to open his door, stopped and looked after them grinning, turning to say something to Samuel that she couldn’t hear-- Kenzie had already yanked Duncan’s hand behind her, pulling him out of the car, snatching up her satchel. On the sidewalk he grasped her against him, lifting her up into his mouth again; she gasped into him and pushed herself down from him gently, “Come on, baby,” she demanded, her nerves buzzing with champagne and impatience. “I wanna be alone with you, really alone.”

“Race you,” Duncan said, a sudden, dastardly smile falling over his loveliness, and took off ahead of her towards the front door--Jerry swung it open, blinking at Duncan running past him, and Kenzie cried out in frustration, chasing after him. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen Mr. Shepherd run quite that fast--” she heard Jerry say as she skirted around him, her satchel smacking against her hip. Anchaly was staring at Duncan flying past him with raised eyebrows--Duncan slipped into the elevator and Kenzie let out another cry. “Duncan Shepherd, don’t you dare--” but by the time she reached it the doors were sliding closed and she caught the end of his vexing laugh, his blue eyes (the knowing burst of a summer sky) pushing arch desires into her. Come fuck me baby.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna fucking get you for that, baby,” Kenzie murmured under her breath, the wind snatched out of her. She pressed the elevator button in quick succession, a frustrated whine leaking out of her. Anchaly was peering around the corner at her, a look of great amusement on his face. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” he called out to her across the marble foyer. Kenzie gave him a frustrated glance. “Thou art more lovely and more temperate,” she replied. “My minor was in English. Though he can’t have been speaking for my temper.”

“Ah, but for your loveliness, I think so.” Anchaly laughed as the second elevator slid open and Kenzie hopped inside, giving him the finger, playfully. He laughed harder at that. Kenzie’s buzz from the champagne was still riding high--adrenaline was now pumping through her body, desirous exasperation humming under her skin. Baby, I can’t believe you did that. I’m really going to tie you up now. Kenzie stared at her own reflection in the elevator’s mirror--her chestnutty hair in waves around her shoulders, her little mouth, pressed to roses by his kisses, the blush in her cheeks from running, the wideness and shine of her eyes, anticipating the moment she’d touch him again--aching for even the momentary loss of Duncan’s fingers, his burning mouth. How dare you frustrate me so, beloved. She thought of the laugh in his eyes--come to me, Persephone, come into my arms, in the shadow of evening. She watched the elevator climb (19, 20, 21) and thought of the blazer with dripping gold that Morgan was going to make him--thought of them all in gold at the Gala in a few days, cameras flashing, and them together, as it was always meant to be. With a strange wave of deja vu, Kenzie recalled a flash of the dream she’d had that morning--her aching despair to look into the eyes of her beloved, but to not see him there, to see someone else, a person she did not know, a creature of darkness. My darling, even in that world, I’d find a way to save you. I’d find a way to pull you back out of the darkness. I swear I would.

The elevator finally dinged to the 30th floor. Kenzie breathed a deep sigh of relief as the doors slid open--she jumped out--the hall was empty. Kenzie walked swiftly to the penthouse door, fumbling for her keycard, jamming it into the door, her heart racing--where are you, baby, where are you--she pulled the door open with impatience, tossing her head from side to side. “Duncan?” She called. No answer. Oh, you’ve really done it now. “Baby, this isn’t funny.” She dropped her satchel on the spotless stone tile of the kitchen floor--and as Kenzie moved into the living room, the sunset cascading down through the picture window, a sudden, terrible burst of fear flitted through her heart. What if, like in my dream this morning, he’s gone. What if he disappeared, into nothingness, lost in the void, and I can’t find him? It didn’t matter that the thought was wild and unbidden--if I live in a world now where the paparazzi follow me everywhere I go, if I live in a world where I can read my lover’s thoughts, I could also live in a world where people disappear without warning, vanish in a puff of smoke, couldn’t I.

The fear really clenched around her heart then, and Kenzie clutched her arms around her belly, tears immediately coming into her eyes. “No,” she whispered. “No. That can’t--” and then she cried out as she suddenly felt his arms come down around her, his large body envelop hers as he came up behind her--”Gotcha” he sung into her ear, and then Duncan seemed to realize, his face pressed into her and his arms around her, that she was distraught--seemed to feel the fear and the despair that had come over her a moment before through her skin, and his breath caught as he held her.

“Kenzie, baby, what is it?” His eyes came into hers, the playful teasing eking out of them, replaced with confusion and distress for her.

“I thought--I thought you’d--I thought you’d disappeared,” Kenzie felt the horrible despair dissipate, and in its place came a heady relief that brought more tears instantly into her eyes and suddenly she was crying, really crying, her face crumpling in the warmth of his embrace. “I thought of my dream, where there was that person with your face but you weren’t inside him, and then I thought, what if you had vanished, what if you’d vanished like that--” Kenzie’s face was now wet with the cascade of her tears, her lip trembling and her voice strangled with a sob. Duncan’s hands immediately grasped her more tightly, his beautiful face now aching with torment, and he pressed her against him, and his mouth was coming down to kiss hers and his hands coming up to wipe at her cheeks, running his damp hands along his shirt, uncaring.

“No, baby, no, I’m sorry--I was just teasing you--I was behind the door when you came in, oh Kenzie, please don’t cry, fuck--”

“I’m sorry,” Kenzie’s voice was tinged with her tears still, and she felt ridiculous, felt foolish, felt despondent that she’d overreacted this way--she tried to turn away from him but Duncan said “no, baby, it’s okay, let me hold you,” and Kenzie softened in his arms and felt the cool, loving blue flames of him licking into the lining of her and immediately felt herself calming, felt her tears begin to go cool and dry from the edges of her vision.

“I’m not going anywhere, Kenzie. Listen to me. I’m not going anywhere. I love you, I love you so fucking much, I’m sorry I scared you, baby, angel--”  Duncan spoke into the side of her hair, down to her ear, his arms tight around her, and then he turned her face up into him again and kissed her, and Kenzie gripped at his blazer desperately, pulling him down into her. “No, you fucking aren’t,” she whispered into his mouth, and felt him shudder under her, saw the spark that lit itself behind his gaze at the command in her voice. She pushed him back as he went to kiss her again, her fingers gripping onto his jaw then falling to clutch his neck, forcing him to stare into her eyes.

”Go in the bedroom and take your clothes off.”

“Fuck. Yes, Kenzie.” He stepped backwards, eyes still in hers, tugging his blazer off and discarding it to the floor, long hands coming up to his throat to start at the buttons there, turning away from her reluctantly--Kenzie followed behind him, her arms crossed, watching him. He reached the edge of the bed, now remade perfectly by the unseen hands of the housekeepers, dark and silent, the late afternoon sun not reaching this part of the penthouse--the room was bathed in shadow, and Duncan went to turn on one of the lamps, but Kenzie said “No, don’t. I’ll do it. Keep taking your clothes off, baby. Do as I told you.”

“Mhmm, baby.” Duncan turned away from the lamp and kicked his boots off, his tall form facing her now, still working at the buttons of his dark tailored shirt. Kenzie walked past him, and she saw the longing in his eyes, the longing to reach out and touch her, but he continued to unbutton the shirt obediently as she leaned down to the lamp, turning it to the lowest setting so the room was still waves of shadows. She straightened, her eyes moving from his hair to his face, his naked torso emerging from underneath his shirt, his crotch, which she could see growing hard under the fabric of his tailored pants, his long legs and dark socks. She reached forward--she saw his mouth hover open, saw his eyes go dark with need for her. Kenzie’s hands fell on the metal buckle of his belt--looking up at him, letting her eyes fall open and closed slowly, letting her mouth dip open and her tongue slide along her bottom lip, she undid the buckle and eased the belt out from his waist as he pulled the shirt off, discarding it too on the floor, his eyes unmoving from her face--they watched her tongue and a tiny, almost imperceptible moan fell from his lips, and Kenzie drifted her fingers up to his bare skin as his hands came down to grasp hers for a moment, his fingers hot and flushed, then they moved under her to work at his pants, pushing them down, easing himself onto the bed which was now behind them to work them off. Kenzie was still full clothed--she thrilled at this, her nerves burning at his vulnerability to her in this moment--Duncan’s pants came off finally, and he eased his socks off too, then he grasped at the waistband of his briefs for a moment, staring into her face again.

“Take those off,” Kenzie said. She couldn’t stop the smile that played around her mouth--Duncan saw it and he nodded, laying back and pushing them down his thighs. His cock fell out, hard, jumping against his leg. Duncan leaned up now, underwear discarded--he sat at the edge of the bed, his hand hovering near his erection, and his eyes burning on her. Kenzie stood in front of him, her arms coming down to her sides, heart hammering, appraising him. Duncan moved to grip himself, neediness in his eyes, but Kenzie shook her head and he stopped.

“Stop, Dunny. Not yet, baby.”

“Mm, Kenzie. Baby. I’m hard for you.”

“Uh huh. I can see that. Don’t move. Don’t you dare.”

“Yes, Kenzie.” Duncan’s hands gripped the edge of the bed; he bit his lip, his eyes falling closed, achingly. Kenzie stepped into the walk-in closet, untying her wedge sandals, stepping out of them, going to the drawer with the thick velvet ribbon, reaching up to where the black geometric lingerie hung. Her nerves thrilled when she reemerged--Duncan stared at her, his face flushed, his cock still very hard and pressing against his stomach, his hands unmoved from where they still rested on either side of his thighs.

“I wanna touch you so fucking bad, baby,” he murmured. The neediness in his voice made warmth pool between Kenzie’s legs, and she fought to clear her head of the haze that wanted to hang down low in her mind at the sight of him this way.

“Be patient. You need to wait.”

“Uhh huh, angel.”

Kenzie set the ribbon and the hangers with the black lingerie on them beside him on the dark coverlet, then she said “Duncan, stand up,” in a firm voice. Duncan immediately stood, stepping closer to her--Kenzie moved back as he tried to touch her, and he whined quietly. “Go over to the hook and hold onto the chain, baby. Like I did last night. Do it.”

Duncan’s eyes fluttered closed and he bit into his lip--Kenzie could see the coiling pleasure in his face, the fervor building there. He stepped back from her to the chain where it hung down in the mirror--she watched his eyes look up at himself in its surface, at his nakedness and his hardness, his hand coming up through his hair, then over his shoulder into her eyes where she watched him. I need you so much, Kenzie, his thought drifted into her. I need you to touch me so much. Fuck, baby, I’m weak for you, fuck, this is torture, but fuck, I love it, I love your commands, keep going, please, I want you to tie me up so much--

Duncan’s (long, beautiful, graceful) hands gripped the chain, his back facing her, his eyes staring at her in the glass. “Good, baby, perfect, now, don’t move,” Kenzie said, and left the room again. I’m too short to reach him, she realized, I’m gonna need some help. She grasped one of the tall chairs from the kitchen island and carefully carried it back into the bedroom--Duncan noticed what she was doing and a grin broke over his loveliness.

“My Kenzie’s too little to tie me up,” he whispered down to her as she put the chair in front of him. Kenzie climbed into it and reached out--she immediately gripped his throat harshly, and Duncan’s words cut off, a sharp gasp falling out of his mouth. She crushed her lips into his, slipping her tongue against his, and Duncan moaned, the feeling reverberating against her hand. He went to lift his hands down from the chain to touch her, but Kenzie moved her head back with a snap and said “No, Duncan, do not let go of that chain,” and gripped his neck more tightly, making him gasp again. Duncan’s fingers twined back inside the links--he pouted a little. “Sorry baby.”

She climbed down to retrieve the black ribbon; climbed back up onto the chair, Duncan’s eyes watching her every movement. Kenzie moved the ribbon through the links and then around each of Duncan’s wrists three times--her heart ached as she did this, beating wildly, and Kenzie could feel the flush on her skin, the nervousness. I’ve never tied anyone up before, she thought into him. You’re my first, baby.

It’s making me so fucking hard, baby, he thought back into her. I’m fucking aching for you. Please touch me soon.

I will. But not yet.

Kenzie yanked the two ends of the velvet ribbon together--Duncan’s wrists came together with a soft slap of flesh against flesh, and she heard the sharp intake of his breath--then Ken tied the knots tight, and climbed down.

“Move your wrists, baby,” she said, moving the chair to the side.

Duncan struggled for a moment against the velvet.

“You tied me good, baby.”

Kenzie grinned at him; she felt the aching affection in his eyes as she did. My angel, when you smile that way, you set my heart on fire.

“Watch me change, baby.”

Duncan nodded; his eyes drifted closed for another moment, then opened on her again, and his cock jumped against his stomach.

Kenzie undid the button at the back of her blouse and pulled it out of her skirt, lifting it over her head. Now, let’s talk, she thought, only this way, not out loud. I want to see if we can hear everything. Kenzie undid the hook of her bra as he nodded to her.

Okay, baby. You look so beautiful. The light’s so soft on you. Your hair is like gold. I want you so fucking bad.

Prince Duncan, she thought, letting the bra fall to the floor, her little breasts free to his gaze now. Soon to be the King, soon to rule an empire. And how do you feel, my Prince? She moved her hands to the back of her skirt, pulling the zipper down, stepping out of it; she pushed her panties off her hips, turning her back to him, watching his eyes fall down her shoulders and her ass, the backs of her thighs.

Like the happiest and most fortunate man on Earth. For my beloved is most fair, most exalted among all earthly creatures, and she can see into my soul, and she’s the piece of me that was torn away, and is now found again. She’s like the moon rising over the sea, the stars in their endless turning. She is everything to me. Without her, I’m in darkness.

Kenzie shivered at his thoughts--she reached for the delicate black tulle panties first, slipping them slowly up her hips, feeling the gathering wetness between her legs push into the soft crotch of them. She reached for the sheer stockings next, sitting primly on the edge of the bed as she eased them up to her thighs, glancing up to where Duncan was tied every now and then, his back and ass to her from this angle, illuminated in soft light and shadow, his eyes piercing into her through the mirror.

Tell me how much you love me, baby, Kenzie thought. Speak it into my secret soul, press your lips there like you do sometimes. I know you can.

Oh, Kenzie. I love you like the first sweet dawn of spring after the longest, coldest winter.

Kenzie slipped the beautifully geometric bra around her torso, locking the clasps together, then gently pulling the cups around to her breasts, pulling the straps onto her shoulders--she looked up into Duncan’s wildly blue eyes, hands falling through her hair, tossing it back.

More baby, more.

I love you like the coolness of autumn after the harshest heat of crushing summer.

Kenzie slipped the suspender around her waist, the straps hanging down at her thighs; she gently leaned down to the edge of the stockings and clipped the straps into them, first the two in the front, then the ones behind, over the rise at the side of her ass and thighs, and she heard him sigh--sigh with longing.

I love you more than sunlight, more than moonlight, more than I love every star, you’re the rain in the desert, the sweet tide, the wind in the trees in the evening, the haze of sunset colors, you are more beautiful than any art I’ve ever beheld, more delicate than any shivering flower, softer than the sweetness of any fruit, Kenzie, my Kenzie...every moment I’m away from you you intoxicate my thoughts, you fill every corner of my mind--

Kenzie moved towards him now, her hands on her hips, stepping around to where he faced the mirror, his wrists bound together.

“Baby, that’s fucking beautiful,” she breathed up to him, and she trailed her hand down from his chest to the dip between his ribs, and Duncan shivered terribly under her touch. “Keep going.”

Duncan’s eyes fell closed as her hands continued to fall--to his bellybutton, then to where his cock was jumping, achingly hard, against his abdomen, red and shivering with strain. Kenzie leaned her head down and hesitated--then his thoughts began to bleed into her again, and she spit a gush of saliva down onto the head of his cock, her hand coming up to ease the wetness down. You’re like an angel--uhh, angel--you’re like a real angel, sometimes I can see the halo around you, a gold ring more beautiful than anything on earth, and it’s like a secret aura around you, like a secret part of you that only I can see, proof of your divinity--oh, fuck, baby--

Kenzie had knelt on the floor before him, hand still gripping his cock, her mouth hovering just at the head of him, her legs parted so her sex stretched in the tulle panties, her tongue snaking out to probe into the hole at the tip of his length--she lifted a hand up to grip her breast through the delicate black tulle, looking into his (sapphire, lapis, turquoise) eyes, and she said “keep going, baby,” and lowered her mouth onto him, her tongue pressing against the underside of him, and she saw his hands strain against the velvet, straining with his need to touch her. The thoughts from him seemed to muddle into colors for a moment--indigo, midnight blue, plum-wine--then they surged back into her, stronger than ever, and terrible with need.

You’re my Persephone, I snatched you from the world in the great moment of Fortune that fell on me and I brought you here to be with me, to my realm where nothing grew, and you scattered your light all over every part of me and now everything I touch here my hand comes away covered in gold that you left on it--uhh, Kenzie, fuck, your mouth is so small and so wet and so fucking warm around me--and--and all I ever want to do is fuck you into ecstatic euphoria and make you come over and over and--over--fuck--until we forget everything but each other, Kenzie, fuuuck, I wanted you to tie me up because I want you to know that I fucking belong to you, baby, I’m yours, my body is for you and you can do whatever you want to me because I will love you no matter what, I’ll love your sadness and your anger and your frustration, your need and your annoyance, your doubt, your exhaustion, your hidden dark places, your secret self, your shadow--your luxuriant, lovely shadow, I love her too, I love you, fucking fuck me baby, fuck me with your mouth, I love you forever, until the end of time and even when there is nothing but darkness, the memory of my love for you will still echo in the emptiness--

Kenzie sucked at him, eagerly, overcome, a pilling need building in her stomach, but she also felt the tears that were gathering in her eyes again--god, when I write my book, baby, I’ll make it speak like you do into my mind and my heart, baby, I’ll make it sound like you do with your lips pressed against my soul this way. Because I know you mean every word with every part of yourself, because I can FEEL you. I can feel all of you, the beautiful sincerity of you, the light that’s shining out of you every day now--you said I kindled your soul, your real soul, and I fucking see you, baby, I can see it. Kenzie could feel the head of his cock thrusting into the deepness of her throat, feel the delicate veins of his length under her tongue, against the roof of her mouth, and her eyes rolled back. Fuck my mouth, baby, beloved, fuck my little mouth, it’s for you, for your kisses, for your thick cock, for your pleasure, my beautiful Prince.

“Kenzie, can I--can I please come, baby?” Duncan’s voice was weak, pleading, raw with the edge of his release. “Please let me come.”

Kenzie came up for air, her lips slipping down the end of his wet shaft, hovering on his head. “Tell me I’m your princess first, baby, tell me I’m your angel.”

“Fuck, Kenzie, you are my fucking princess, you are my only angel, the only one--”

“Okay, baby, come now, fucking come for me.”

Kenzie dipped his cock down into her throat one last time, then leaned back as she felt him release into her mouth, hot and slick, the taste of him salt and sweet--Duncan shuddered and moaned, his eyes heavy-lidded but not quite shut, staring down at where she kneeled on the floor, letting her mouth dip open so his come fell down her chin and dripped between her breasts and slid in rivulets down her stomach, marking her as his. “Good, baby,” Kenzie licked her lips, swallowing the half of his come that had spurted into her mouth, bringing her fingers down to the white liquid on her skin, scooping it up and pressing it between her lips, swallowing that too. “Fucking good, baby. You sounded so beautiful in my mind. Like velvet. Like your hands were touching me everywhere. Absolutely everywhere.”

“I wanna make you come now, baby.” Kenzie stood as Duncan said it. She looked up at him, still licking her lips.

“I wanna order dinner, Dunny. I’m starving. Then I want us to go to bed. Then, in the middle of the night, I want you to wake me up with kisses and fuck me in the dark with your lips pressed into my shadows. Like you were thinking into me. I want you to kiss my shadows, I want you to kiss them and touch them with aching hands. Will you do that for me, Prince Duncan?” Kenzie pulled the chair over to him, climbing up and reaching to his wrists in the velvet trappings as he leaned into her, his lips kissing everywhere he could reach, her arms and the crook of her elbow and the dip of her shoulders--she worked him free and his hands came down immediately, his desperation snatching her breath away, and he gripped her with hands that she knew could rend her if he wanted it, but they wanted to hold her, and she knew that too, wanted nothing but to hold her and press her into him, which he did now with a softness that made her gasp.

“Yes. I will, I will. Will you kiss mine, too, baby? My shadows?”

Kenzie raised her head and pulled his jaw down to her--Duncan was lifting her, throwing her down into their bed, her hair tossing behind her in a gold wave, his tongue licking her bottom lip where his come had coated her a moment before, his hands pressing at the tulle she was wrapped in. Kenzie’s hands came up to his throat and pulled him into her mouth, roughly--and she thought into him as she gripped him there, tightly, the jut of his adam’s apple pressing into her palm, and he gasped into her kiss.

Yes, yes, baby, yes I fucking will. I will love your shadows as I love your light. I will press myself to them and call them fair and beautiful. For I love you. All of you. 

[cosmichoneyedblossoms]

Over the Fence

Pairing: Kim Jibeom (Golden Child) X Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 804

A/N: I got a lovely little ask to do a fluffy neighbor au for GolCha Jibeom, it took me a bit, but here it is!

Today, like any other day, started out just as normal and boring. He rose with the sun and started his routine, shower, brush teeth, get ready for the day, coffee, and finally leave for work. Jibeom laid in bed, staring at the ceiling fan that spun ever so slowly in the dim morning light, his body heaving at the thought of going to work, doing the same minuscule work, again. He rolled from the mattress, his hand hovering over the alarm clock, the shrieking of the alarm beginning to ring out as his hand fell onto the button, quieting it’s voice.

Here’s to another day in this boring little—

The sound of a door slamming outside his window caused him to stop mid thought to get up from the bed and venture over to the bedroom window. A white u-haul truck sat outside the house next door to his, the one that had been vacant since his junior year in high school. His eyes followed the tall box that covered it’s carrier, taking notice of the white tennis shoes that walked carefully up the sidewalk and into the house, “Who would want to live in this town? It’s so boring and—” His eyes fell onto the body walking out of the house, his eyes glued to your beauty. In all the years he’s lived in this town, he’s never seen someone like you appear before his eyes.

Jibeom studied you, the way your feet stepped on the ground, the way your hips swayed with your steps, how you tilted your head while someone was talking to you, how your lips curled into a smile, the way you wrinkled your nose as you laughed—you were the epitome of sunlight and he wanted to meet you.

Within a week of you moving in next door to him, you managed to make his world revolve around you, to make matters even worse: he had yet to even come face to face with you, let alone exchange words with you. By the time he got up, you were sauntering out to your car, and when he got home, he could only catch fleeting glances of your shadow appearing against your close curtained windows.

Today was no different, he woke up thirty minutes early to get a jumpstart, in hopes he would see you in passing as he went to his car, but as he stared into the wall mirror next to his window, straightening out his shirt, his eyes connected with your dolled up frame walking down the steps of your porch. His eyes took in your aesthetics as you stood next to your car, your phone connected to your ear—black form fitting dress pants clinging to your legs, white button down shirt with a burgundy blazer over it, and black heels to complete your ensemble. Your hair was pulled up into a messy bun, but one that looked kept and not like you just rolled out of bed, your makeup lightly done, but just enough to make a statement. Man did you look good, so good, Jibeom’s heart skipped a beat as he took in your beauty. He rested his hand on his chest, feeling is heart running rampant inside his rib cage, his thoughts starting to wonder why you made him feel this way.

Will I ever get to meet her?

Jibeom sighed, his body sunk into the couch of his living room. His eyes drifted towards the window that faced your house, the foggy rain streak pane distorting the front of the house. His mind started to play tricks on him, the illusion of your body starting to form in the entryway of his home, your warm smile appearing on your lips as you slipped off your heels. He watched at your apparition stepped off the tile and onto the soft taupe carpet, making your way over to him. Jibeom sat up, welcoming the thought of you coming home to him, your figure fading as the startling sound of the doorbell ringing shaking his being.

Seriously…?

He huffed, ignoring the door, hoping the person who ruined his daydream would disappear. He tried to make your ghost appear before him again, it being ruined by the doorbell ringing again. He got up from the couch, stomping towards the door, his hand gripped the handle, ripping it open, “This better be worth—” His words got lost in his throat as his eyes met with wide irises, and a shivering figure, it soaked to the bone. He couldn’t believe the scene his eyes were playing for him, you standing on his porch, your beautiful eyes gazing up into his.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but I somehow locked my keys inside my car in the rush of trying to get into the house and now… I’m locked out…”

[notskam]

         So I’d made a fic rec master post before where I included my fave fics from the Evakteket Best of 2017 nominated fics, and then June came with some incredible fics and I was like, I have read so many fics that are so good, especially in June alone, which was like this magical thing to me as I got to read them in pride month. Some of these fics are not written in June but I included it in here anyway. So, the intention here is to be able to share this with others who, maybe, are coming across any of these fics for the first time and I will feel so lucky and honored to be able be that person who made you check it out and give it a chance. All of these fics are incredible and I promise you that. Also, if you are a reader/fan of fics, please try and spread the word about it. The writers put their heart and soul in the work they put out in the world, and if you liked it, and if you stumbled across a rec post from the author of the fic you liked, please try and reblog it. It’s the least you can do for free stuff that moves you and makes you feel.

four movements on a first wedding by  chevythunder / @icelandcurry

Tags: Accidental Marriage

Summary: Sonja catches sight of the crumpled marriage certificate that’s fallen out of his bag. The crooked smile on her face is enough for Isak’s eyes to burn.

“I’m still hoping that’s fake,” Isak says, going for a laugh. It bounces back to him, the faux joy making him nauseous. She stares at it for a few seconds longer, zoning in on the signatures, running a thumb over Even’s. “I- God, that’s... Seeing his name on one of these.”

Isak looks down, keeps looking down. Tries to block out the hurt he’s causing, the hurt he’s feeling. He hugs her tightly before letting her out the door. Her answering embrace feels like going through the motions.

Isak's spent years keeping his distance to Even, worried that any kind of closeness could trigger feelings he won't be able to suppress. Waking up married to Even after a blurry night in Las Vegas throws a slight wrench in those plans.

(--bla bla: this fic, i have re-read it an embarrassing amount of times. at first, i was skeptical about it because i don’t like the vegas accidental marriage cliche but i love the author’s style and the way they portray isak and even with utmost care, i am so glad i read and i can’t wait for someone to find it from my recs. this fic will give you all the feels, i promise--)

if you must live, darling one, just live by grinsekaetzchen / @hotchocolatenthusiast

Tags: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse

Summary: The world has ended and Even is still alive. He steps into the street, takes in the way the sun is shining onto the ruins. The silence of the town is at odds with the way the sun feels on Even’s skin. A distant warmth. The beginning of a movie. A sunrise, the hero turning his back on a ghost town, leaving.

Cut. Darkness. Fast forward to the light again.

Even starts walking.

(--bla bla:  this is an amazing fic, it’s like you are watching a movie, you know? and you would want to read multi chapters of this verse because it’s such an addictive thing. i have recently discovered that i kind of have a post-break and post-apocalypse kink, oh well, if you do too, check it out. and check their other fics as well, they are really talented and i just discovered them last month--)

Cathedrals of Light, Salt and Snow by shoulderbone (lavenderforluck) / @odeto-psyche

Tags: Canon Compliant, But also canon divergence

Summary: What he wants to say, and cannot bring himself to admit: Before you there was no real me. Only a person pretending to be. Or, alternatively: Isak comes back to face death, and in the meantime, finds rebirth.

(--bla bla: i discovered this from @evakteket recs, bless immy and kit for maintaining such a cool rec blog, my rec post would look like a joke to the work they and @evaksbinder does, but i’m trying my best to show my gratitude here, i think it’s cute,, ok? so this fic, i have a high threshold for angst, as long it’s not there for angst sake and it’s realistic in the scenario, i love angst. and this fic is angsty. it’s isak who lives in germany and is not in a good place emotionally and comes back to oslo because his mother has died, and it’s his journey through grief and self acceptance. i love how isak and even come together in this fic (it’s hardly a spoiler, psst), it’s epic in all it’s glory and i love post break up getting together fic sooooo much. There’s an Even’s POV WIP sequel to this fic which is not as angsty but is equally wonderful. oh, i forgot to mention they include really cool art recs and song recs within the fic, which just.... enriches your fic reading experience ten fold. someone who puts that much effort deserves all the love in the world. i love you! --)

All the climbing, all the falling by Alene / @tristealven

Tags:  Future Fic, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Summary: Isak and Even never saw each other after that night at the Plaza. Five years later Isak studies molecular biology in Bergen and keeps running into someone tall and blond.

It rains a lot, there are mountains to climb, and some things start to fall into place.

(--bla bla: this fic. this beautiful, beautiful fic. i can’t rec this enough. elina’s writing just transports you to that gloomy, cloudy aesthetic, especially this is a great read in this awful summer. elina and i bonded over our great love for ‘all stories are echoes’ and i didn’t even know she wrote too? and i was like mad at myself and others for not reccing me soon enough. since then i have read it three times and there’s a wonderful sequel too, so makes sure you read that as well. definitely in my top 5! --)

let's not waste it feeling wrong by @prettyisak

Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks

Summary: Isak has always been skeptical of the soul mark.

Instead of your soulmate's first words to you written on your skin, it's the last words you ever hear them say, so you don't know who your soulmate is until you lose them.

(--bla bla: this fic is a gem, the introspection and the characterization within the plot is just so refreshing and i love their writing. i love the pacing of this fic too --)

On call by MinilocIsland / @irazor

Tags: Enemies to Friends to Lovers

Summary: Isak knows what he's meant to do in life - surgery. And he can't wait to show everyone that he's good at it.

That is, if he'll ever get a goddamn chance. Not getting hindered by ridiculous, charming guys whose main advantage in the operating room simply is the length of their legs.

Or - a hospital AU, with both Isak and Even as intern physicians

(--bla bla: never thought i’d like a fic were even is a physician? this was so great, i loved it! look out for a delightful magnus here --)

i always knew by GayaIsANerd / @greathalesonfire 

Tags:  Alternate Universe – Soulmates

Summary: The dreams start on his 19th birthday. A woman screaming, a basement, a man slamming the door behind him, a dark bar, a kind voice telling him he’ll be okay, a blurry shot of another boy. Those are the most clear but there are other images, emotions and sensations lingering even after he wakes. There’s no clear timeline, no names or addresses or anything that could give more definite information.

The information Even doesn’t have, tells him his soulmate is younger than him, not yet 19.

The information he does have, tells him his soulmate is suffering and Even’s heart aches for him.

(--bla bla: gaya is a legend around here, and rightfully so. READ THIS. --)

dancing past the point of no return by @fxckxxp

Tags:  Alternate Universe - Afterlife

Summary: Even has 24 hours to test drive the afterlife, where at the end he can either decide to 1. live for eternity or 2. let his existence dissolve into nothingness. Isak has 21 of those 24 hours to convince him to stay. 

(--bla bla: afterlif au? yes, please. i love how isak is portrayed here. it could have easily been a whiny!isak which i don’t enjoy. it’s not. isak is wonderful here.  --)

Far From Heaven 2.0 by grallonsphere 

Tags:  Future Fic, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Summary: When Even chooses to go study film-making in America, without first being upfront about it with Isak, he sets in motion a chain of events that will leave them both lost and damaged...

(bla bla: i found this fic from a commissioned art that popped up, and i was travelling and i wanted to read something long in one go. i forgot to check the tags, if i would’ve have, i wouldn’t have read this fic. and it would’ve been a shame because i loved it. it was really well written and if someone told me the outline of this story, i wouldn’t even give it a chance. it’s one of those fics which you have to read to get why someone liked it. useful tip: read this like an original story instead of a fanfic, it might help? i don’t know if this makes sense?? i bullied @art-vandeley into reading it and she did like it, though, so.. it’s not just me!

 Phosphorescence by unsungyellowraincoat / @isaksbestpillow

Tags:  Canon Compliant

Summary: Maybe they will all get there one dayTo a place of no fear. They go to Latvia. 

(--bla bla: a year ago all i read was canon compliant fics, because my stupid brain could not imagine them in other scenarios, now i do love an au that doesn’t butcher their characterization, but a good canon compliant will always be my top priority and this is one of the best! the line in the summary is something you won’t forget. and it’s isak,even, eskild and linn! a combo you never saw before. it’s delightful and this feeling of ‘i wanna read 10k worth of isak and even just being themselves and bantering’ stayed with me after reading it.  --)

daffodils, daisies, snowdrops & roses by  puddingandpie / @annecuthbertshirley

 Tags: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism

Summary: Even is a Spring. He’s new life. Renewal. Hope. Good things. It follows him everywhere he goes, seeping out of him like he has no idea how to control it.

Isak can’t take his eyes off of him. It’s intoxicating, the way he exudes happiness and warmth in a way that should be typical of a Summer, but somehow seems to suit him just right. But just watching him makes Isak’s own body run colder, the icicles that have taken up a permanent home on his hands weaving more intricate designs than usual. It’s the same response as he once had with Jonas, but this time, Even does not have the heat to break the pattern. Isak knows that if he even dares get closer to Even he will ruin him, just as is the natural order of things. Winter kills plants. Winter kills Spring.

tldr; in a world where u are assigned a Season at birth which defines your magic, isak is a Winter, even is a Spring. they shouldn't work. somehow they do.

(--bla bla: someone who just read canon compliant stuff for a while, all of these AUs just blows my mind and how well isak and even fits in those universes and are still their soft, dorky self. *enter the audio where jvn says ‘love’* --)

waxing, waning by @vesperthine

 Tags: Post-Canon

Summary: They’re in a car, heading towards the E6. Streetlights become blurred dots in the watery dark, and the shadows pass over Isak’s face ( – waves of lights, waxing and waning like the moon, the tide, the moods – ) as they’re navigating through the currents of traffic.

(--bla bla: vesper is so good with real emotions. it annoys me when people dismiss fics because it’s “angst”, i’ve come to associate angst as a negative word now. i wouldn’t call the stuff she writes as angst. raw / real / emotional / introspective - all this, maybe? what do you think? --)

Naturlig seleksjon by Allieverwas, Artemis2121, Kikki1

Tags:  Alternate Universe - Soulmates, PrisonAU

Summary: Livet i fengsel er tøft. Her gjelder den sterkestes rett både for innsatte og ansatte. Even jobber hardt for sin plass på rangstigen. Bare synd at han må holde kortene tett til brystet på så mange områder i livet sitt.

(--bla bla: @vildenooras recommended me this and it was a roller coaster. i wouldn’t deliberately read a prison au and i’m so glad you did it babe, it was feel train for me and thank you for literally holding my hand when i freaked out at twists in this fic. we hate larson in this house, don’t we? --)

tender (is the night) by kittpurrson / @towonderland72

Tags:  Alternate Universe - Soulmates

Summary: His whole body aches, like he’s regrown his limbs overnight, stretched out muscles he never knew he had.

Isak knows, in that moment, that his life has just been turned upside down.

“You bonded,” Even’s girlfriend confirms, and the pity in her eyes doesn’t go unnoticed. “Try not to move.”

(--bla bla: this fic, god this fic.my first soul-bond fic, can you believe that my first time was that good? at first when it everyone was talking about i dismissed it because the concept of soul-bond was meh to me. now i can’t get enough. i can only imagine the thought process that went in to writing this epic, oh my god. i read it one go and at one point i didn’t have internet for a few days and i was grumpy af and my friends abandoned me. apparently, i was “hard to be around with”. whatever. anyway, this is definitely in my top 5 and i’m pretty sure everyone has read it already! check out this fanart by ayesha, OMG?!!! --)

  you and me from the night before by colazitron / @fille-lioncelle

Tags: Travel AU

Summary: There are only two reasons to wake up before eight in the morning: emergencies or romance. When Isak wakes Even on this particular February Friday, it's the latter.

(--bla bla: oh. cola! sweet, sweet cola. one of my fave writers in this fandom who is so consistently great with their writing, I CAN’T. SOO GOOD. exactly why i have you on subscription😎. remember  SKAM Fic Week 2018 ? 7 days of awesome content. i remember telling them about wanting multi chapters  of all of the fics they wrote that week. i hope you don’t hate me for that! in this fic, isak an even are just being their sweet, soft, ridiculous self. it’s nothing really. also, it’s everything and just the kinda thing i. can’t. get. enough. of! --)

A Beginner's Guide to Living with Isak Valtersen by riyku 

Tags:  Canon Compliant

Summary: Or, how to live with the love of your life, in five easy to follow steps.

(--bla bla: i discovered this author when @art-vandeley recommended bassline to me. of course, i read it one go. and i’m waiting for it’s update like i haven’t waited for anything else, ever. and then i went ahead and read all of their one shots. they write isak and even so well, the introspection is just so well done and it’s like poetry, like, seriously, read them. it’s breathtaking. i desperately want you to check it out so here’s a little snippet - 

Rule 4: Never allow him to wake up alone. Isak hates it, and you hate the idea of him finding a you-shaped hole beside him. You will lay in bed and watch the sunrise color in his face with broad strokes. Study the way his curls lick the skin behind his ear and the perfect fit of your palm on his hipbone. You will create patterns in the moles on his back until they become constellations in your mind, complete with their own mythologies. The stories change and you will never write any of them down. Isak will reach for you before he opens his eyes, gasp like the simple act of waking up is a shock to him every single time, then he'll bury his pillow-creased face in your neck. Sometimes you'll fuck around. Sometimes you'll make him breakfast.It will be two months before you realize that on the very rare occasions where Isak wakes up first, he's doing it too.>>  see?? --) 

Eventyr by imminentinertia / @skamskada

Tags: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale

Summary: Once upon a time, humans knew about and feared the wights in the forest. Now the wights are all forgotten, and perhaps they have left their hills and trees and ponds.

Perhaps some are still there.

(--bla bla: enchanting is the word. this fic is enchanting. so gorgeous and i really want  more, more, more...  --)

to love you every day by @skamz​

Tags: Canon Compliant, Advent Calender

Summary: Advent calendars are nice, but the ones you buy at the store are not really what Even wants to offer Isak. And so he decides to make one for him instead.

(--bla bla:Cristine got me for secret santa (poor girl) and wrote this incredible fic, for me?? I just re - read it recently and can’t believe my luck. also, read all of their works. they are incredible.--)

you’ll always wait for me to come home by iriswests /  @juilawicker

Tags: Science Fiction

Summary: In a world where time may be arbitrary, but perhaps not linear, Even looks for Isak.

(--bla bla: i believe this is ceecee’s best work yet. it is so well written and it had me in the edge of my seat through and through. just gorgeous and i love isak and even in a sci fi setting! even and sana teams up in a refreshing way and this fic just is like watching a movie, i love it when a fic can do that. like in an all encompassing  way you shut your internet off and just want to immerse in this verse. --)

All this and heaven too by @champagneleftie and @nofeartina

Summary: The first time, it’s just a hookup, a quick blowjob in a club bathroom.

The next time Isak pretends he’s never seen him before. But maybe that’s because they’re at church. And the pastor is Isak’s dad.

Even shouldn’t want the closeted pastor’s son like this, but it’s impossible not to. Especially when he’s already had a taste.

(--bla bla: this was a fantastic read. spoiler alert: look out for the romeo and juliet parallel. i swooned . you will too. --)

Dear Friend by bri_ness / @brionbroadway

Tags: Enemies to Lovers

Summary:  Isak and Even work together in a failing video store, and they cannot stand each other.

Isak and Even both signed up for the Love Letters dating service, and they’re both falling for their anonymous pen pal.

Or, a She Loves Me AU (kind of, sort of).

(--bla bla: god, isak and even in this fic is so eloquent, i can’t with them. and it’’s pacing is wonderful. it’s not rushed or slow, just perfect. high-key wants a follow up to my fave bri fic. please read this fic ok. it’s very soft.  --)

I even made a not so good edit for this fic, that’s how much I loved it. Bri liked it, that will do ;) check out her fics and drabble, all of them are wonderful.

Must read short fics: 

 you don’t have to carry the weight of your sin, we didn’t rise to cave in by @evenbechneiheim

@thefancyspin drabbles: seriously, read em all, it will be time well spent, trust me.

Also, this amazing fic/drabble by @greathalesonfire about sex is something I go back to and re-read, because, why the hell not? It’s so breath taking.

This drabble by  @fxckxxp which sort of is like a missing scene thing between isak and even’s first kiss in the pool and the cuddle marathon the next day. It’s incredibly well written and easy to imagine that this is exactly what happened.

 WIPS that rocks my world

Shaky målinger av livet (uten deg) by Frieda Echte (Plommesill), Peer

Tags: Canon Divergence

Summary: this is a little bit tricky. but hear me out, I have their consent to read this fic using google translate (desperate to a whole new level, eh?), they even said to ask them if i have any doubts (how kind??) and I get help from @vildenooras, amalie and sofie. SO, in this fic, Isak is in Germany due to his studies and Even is in Oslo, and they do the long distant relationship thing, it’s hard but they make it work, but life throws them few curve balls and this fic is basically about how they deal with it.

It’s so realistic and wonderful. Freida writes Isak’s POV and Peer writes Even’s, which is like, so cool, right? So, if you can read Norwegian, please, please, please read this.

Bassline by riyku

Tags:  Alternate Universe - Rock Band

Summary: Isak opens up the email from his editor, skims through it for the tenth time, snagging to a stop on phrases like serial piece and North American tour coverage, boots on the ground and big opportunity. His response is quick and vague, that he'll let her know tomorrow morning, although he's known the answer from the jump.

(Or, Isak is a Norwegian ex-pat, fresh out of NYU with a journalism internship, who bags an assignment covering a band from his former hometown of Oslo on their first North American tour. It takes him about three seconds to realize he kinda has a thing for the bass player).

(--bla bla: first of all, i do not enjoy Americanized fics,, but this is not that, and it is GLORIOUS. this is the sexiest even i’ve ever read and isak is not a helpless pining dork here, he is just so grounded and in tune for his desire not being realistic to be with even, but they do get together and it’s hardly a spoiler, i wanna mention the pacing here too. wow. it wasn’t stretched to keep the will-they-won’t-they thing going the last update is at such a delicious point I AM STARVING FOR AN UPDATE LIKE YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE. also nooreva is a thing, which is like, yayy! --)

lover of my impossible soul by shoulderbone (lavenderforluck) / @odeto-psyche

Tags: Canon Compliant

Summary: We don't often reveal ourselves, when we don't actually know what there is to reveal yet. Or, alternatively: Isak returns to Oslo, and most importantly, to Even.

(--bla bla: this the Even’s POV sequel to Cathedrals and one of those fic that just makes you feel like you’ve been transported to Oslo and is invisibly stalking isak and even, which exactly how i feel when i watch s3. the music rec, the art rec, i can’t thank you enough and just reminds me of the time I read ‘all stories are echoes’ (am i plugging it too much, why wouldn’t i? it’s my #1 fave after all) it’s got that movie like feeling to it, which i’m addicted to and cannot get enough of. also, isak is so smooth here. master of wooing and even melts. and swoons. i can’t with these two. and this fic. this is also the fic where me and ayesha messages each other right after there’s an update and we gush and gush, gdkjngk  --)

ok, so after the not so pretty rambling about great fics that deserves to be recced in an elegant way, i just wanna say i had this thought, that, the places the writers in this fandom has taken isak and even, all the parallel universes and all the brilliant characterization and introspection, julie could only dream of. not a diss, i will never diss the queen. forever grateful. and grateful to all the writers for your generosity and brilliance. 

god sommer. vi chattes 💖