#S got me a gold necklace that I had been looking at for awhile

[theforestyousee]

My step mom gifted me an essential oil diffuser and a bunch of essential oils from her favorite brand and the lavender one actually smells of lavender and fills my home with the scent of flowers and it is one of the best gifts I’ve gotten.

[writing-fanics]

lady with the butterfly necklace in the portrait [part one]

[summary: angel asks about the portrait of a woman in the hallway]

[warning: angst: mentions of death]

Lucifer at the portrait in the lobby of the hotel. Staring longingly at the woman in the portrait, her [hair length] hair and [e/c] eyes. She was absolutely gorgeous he felt a twinge of pain, as he reached out towards the portrait. How his heart ached, as he placed his hand on the portrait.

Her smile could light up any room, and make anyone smile. She was beautiful, the butterfly necklace wrapped around her neck. Her smile her portrait, portrayed her with grace and poise.

Angel looked towards Lucifer, as he stared at the portrait “You’ve been gawking at the portrait for minutes?” He said, walking up behind him causing the king of Hell to glance over at him.

“Who’s that?” asked Angel, curiously as he liked this popsicle. Lucifer smiled softly reminiscing on the good times he spent with her, “She was my wife,” said Lucifer, his smile faltering the pain in his chest unbearable.

Angel looked at the portrait, of the lady. A young Charlie sat on her lap, smiling. A butterfly hair clip in her hair. Lucifer stood beside his wife and daughter, smiling.

Angel looked at him and folded his arms across his chest, “Where is she now?” He asked, blatantly.

Lucifer eyes lowered to the ground, fixated. He looked slowly back up at the portrait, he missed her so much that it hurt. He should’ve stopped her, he should’ve protected her. He should’ve been a better husband.

Angel figured it out by the silence, and had an inkling that she was no longer with us. Yet, his blatant curiosity and slight being noisy got the better of him. Force of habit.

“She was amazing, loving, kind, i see as much as her in Charlie as much as I see myself.” He said, and Charlie looked at him sadly. She vaguely remembered that how her father, completely broke down.

“S-She..” He shuddered, looking down using his cane to support himself. He still remembered that day as if it were yesterday. The look of horror and sadness plastered on his face. When he opened the door, and a sinner demon was holding the lifeless body of their queen.

His wife

His partner

He stared at the floor for a moment, as tears threatened to brim his eyes. “There was a knock at the door,”He said, looking back up at the others.

Her wings torn from her body and stained with, gold ichor. She looked peaceful and had a faint smile, on her lips. Her body covered in scratches and cut. A slash around her neck, stared blankly and took her body into his arms.

His eyes turned into slits and the sinner demon bowed, and apologized for his loss. “S-She told me to tell you to take care of Charlie for me, and that she loves you two more than anything.” The demon said, sadly and Lucifer just stood there emotionless.

He didn’t notice Charlie rubbing her eyes, as she walked up behind him. Wondering what her father was doing at the front door, until she noticed. “Mama?” said Charlie, curiously. Lucifer world seemed to spin, how much more can Heaven take from him. His wife and unborn child was gone.

“She died protecting what few sinners she could,” He said, clearing his throat. “She was pregnant,” He shuddered, placing his hand over his mouth and dragging it downward. Angel looked at him sadly, almost regretting having asked the question entirely.

Angel seethed his teeth, feeling bad. “I didn’t mean to-” said Angel, but was interrupted by Lucifer.

Lucifer shook his head, “No, it’s okay, it happened awhile ago.” He said, even though it was true it happened ninety years ago. The memory was still fresh and it felt like it happened yesterday.

There were nights he couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning. Still missing the warmth of his beloved of his partner, her laughter that used to wake him up every morning as Charlie leaped into their bed. Her absolute beautiful singing voice, and how the rare butterflies of hell would flock to her. As if she was their queen.

“S-She sounds amazing,” said Angel, as he looked at the portrait, and a smile grew across Lucifer’s lips. “Yeah, she was.” said Lucifer, as he gripped the ring around his neck being held by a chain.

A duck swam towards the edge of the pond in Heaven, there sat a woman humming to herself. A scar around her neck as she began to feed the ducks. She giggled, as one flapped its wings at the sight of the bread. She lifted her head revealing her [e/c] eyes.

[desswright29]

Femininity Pt.2

Pairing: Shuri X Reader

Contains: Smut(18+), violence, slight angst, fluff. Shuri being fine af per usual.

Word count: 4,6k

A/n: Thought I’d drop something cute before I destroy y’all with this series lol. Enjoy!

The sun streamed through your floor to ceiling windows, cascading onto the light wood floors.  Setting your beautiful home aglow, as music poured through out the area. With your balcony doors ajar you could hear the waves of the ocean and the smell of the nearby beach took over your home. Today was a beautiful summer day. You’d sent Zah with his grandparents and invited Asia over for brunch. Currently you were frantically trying on outfits that you’d bought specifically for this special day, forcing opinions out of your friend. On edge, nervous excitement filling your body to the brim, as you stepped out of your room once again doing a spin to show off your dress. 

“DAMN!” Asia obnoxiously yells. She sat at the bar in your home pouring a glass of your Double Diamond Oakville Cabernet Sauvignon, giving you a once over. “Asia! This is why you stay uninvited! That’s an expensive ass bottle you’re pouring!” She shrugs and rolls her eyes. “Bitch! Aren’t you dating a Queen? I’m sure you can afford it.” Your palms began to sweat at the thought of your very recent relationship status with Shuri. It had been about Two months; but unfortunately almost three weeks after you’d made it official The Black Panther was sent on a mission. Meaning you hadn’t seen eachother since, and only talked sparingly. You’d been worried sick but, you understood that this was a consequence of dating the Queen. “I don’t even care right now. I’m nervous as fuck!” Shuri had returned to Wakanda two weeks ago, and today she was due back in Cali where she would be visiting you and Zah for awhile. 

“Well you’re definitely gonna knock her head back with that dress. Look no further!”

“It’s not too much is it?”

“It’s just enough to get exactly what you’re looking for.” Smirking she looked you up and down. You’re waist length micro loc’s had recently been re-tied and dyed red. You wore them down, completely straight with a middle part. You wore a fresh face, lashes and brows freshly done lips plumped and glossy. A short red, spaghetti strap dress adorned your curvaceous figure. The tie inbetween your breast undone giving a peak at your perky breast. The dress clung to your body, an opening on the left side revealing the supple skin of your waist. Just under your vulumptious ass, a short layer of lace flared out beneath. An ultra thin gold necklace wrapped around your neck with a small S charm dangling from its center. Your body glistened from head to toe. A gold anklet graced your pretty ankle. You were soft, supple, hydrated, and smelled just as good as you looked.

“Ugh! Usually I’d find something smart to say but you’re right! I need it! I’m fiending. At night I get the shakes. Shuri has fucked my entire world up.” You say as you grab a glass and pour yourself some of the expensive red wine. Taking a sip you walk towards the couch as Asia follows you, and takes a seat. “Girl, I can tell you got it bad. You over there shivering and shit. Calm down!” 

“You can see me shaking?”

“Hell yea! You got the couch vibrating” Both of you burst into loud laughter, hitting eachother as you cackled. Quietly, Shuri entered the house with the key you’d given her, hearing the laughter from the foyer, she closed the door and made her way down the wide hallway. Leaning against the wall at the entrance to your living room, she smiled waiting for the laughter to die down. “Looks like I arrived just in time for the party.” Both you and Asia taken by surprise jumped a bit turning behind you at the sound of her voice. 

“Sssshhhiiiittt.” Both of you whispered at the sight of Shuri. Shoulder leaned against the wall, sunglasses perched on her nose, legs crossed, and hands clasped in front of her. Her curls were freshly done, under cut fresh, and she wore an all black silk short set. The top unbuttoned halfway; nothing underneath but a single gold chain the pendant of your initial sitting perfectly between the valley of her small breast. A gold watch on her wrist, her rings glistening on her fingers. Her smile sparkled a little more than you remembered, and upon further inspection you noticed her her canines were gold, the tip of her bottom row of teeth were also covered in gold. GRILLS!! 

You shoved your drink at Asia, hopped over the back of the couch and ran into Shuri’s arms.

“Babyyyyyyy!!” Her arms were open wide, smile as big as the sun as you jumped inside of them. Effortlessly, she catches you by your ass as you wrap your thick thighs around her slim waist, your arms wrapping around her neck. She grabbed a fist full of your hair, planting firm kisses on your cheeks down to your neck. “I missed you so much Shuri” Your eyes watered and voice cracked as you held her tighter, body quivering at her touch, her kiss. Shuri pulled back looking into your eyes. “You crying mama? Don’t cry baby girl. I’m here now. I’m safe.” She wiped at a fallen tear and your lips finally connected in a passionate kiss. 

“Y’all cute as fuck! I want to love somebody like that!” Asia interrupts, from across the room. You let out a sigh and roll your eyes hopping out of Shuri’s arms as she laughed. You turn to face Asia as Shuri pulled you back against her by your waist wrapping her arms around you, chin settling on your shoulder.  “You must be Asia. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Yea? Well she can kiss my ass, cause I know she was talking shit.” You smack your lips and Shuri laughs as you stare Asia down. “It’s nice to finally meet you your highness” She came forward extending her hand for a shake and Shuri took it. “No need for the formalities Shuri is just fine.”

“Well Shuri. I was just heading out. I’ll leave you two love birds to your reunion.” She said collecting her things. “Yes, she was.” You said as you remove yourself from Shuri’s arms to help her gather her things. “Uh Uh! Don’t be rushing me out now hoe! Tryna get rid of me to get you’re back br-“

“ASIA PLEASE! For once,filter it!”

“And ion know how to do that!”

“And this is why I talk shit. Bye girl!”

“Bye! Walk me out. It was a pleasure meeting you Shuri.” 

“The pleasures all mine.” Shuri says smiling with a slight laugh, Grills on full display.

“Mm mm mm” Asia says shaking her head walking towards the door. You could hear Shuri chuckle as you walk Asia out. “Girl that woman is fine as fuck. You hit the fucking lottery. Pictures don’t do her justice! No disrespect but my knees went weak when I saw her. Fuuuuck.” 

“Yea you doing a lot. But imma let you slide today. She does look a lil too good.”

“Well you need to go take that for a ride girl. Hell I almost want to stay and watch.”

“Too far. Please leave.” You both laugh and hug and Asia heads home. You release a deep sigh as you close the door. Walking back into the living room, stopping at the sight of Shuri leaned against the back of the couch. Lip trapped between her teeth. “She seems fun” She says. “She aight.” You slowly walk over to her putting an extra sway in your walk as her eyes trailed over your body. A soft groan left her throat. “You look so fucking … Whew baby girl. I don’t have the words.” Your pretty smile spread across your face, blushing as you made it back into your lovers arms. Melting into her as she enveloped you. This felt like home. 

“You’re looking edible yourself Panther. You’re early.” Bending to reach your small stature Shuri rubbed her nose against yours. “I couldn’t wait to have you in my arms again entle.” Her hands caressed your curves as her breath grazed over you lips. “Oh yea? And what was the plan from there.” you say removing her shades from her eyes. Sighing from the intensity in her gaze. A chill running down your spine. “I can show you better than I can tell you.” In a second you were lifted back into Shuri’s arms, her lips attached to your neck as she walked around the couch. She sat with you in her lap as you began making out on the couch. Unbuttoning the rest of her shirt as she lifted your dress. The time apart left no room for foreplay you both needed eachother now. Shuri reached between the two of you rubbing your clit over top of your thong. Throwing your head back you grind against her hand. “Oh, fuuuck Shuri” you moaned out. 

“Mmm, is this what I do to you beautiful?” Sliding your panties to the side she slid her fingers through your sopping wet slit. “Oh my God I have to taste it.” You were on your back before you knew it; Shuri hovering over top of you, kissing down your body making her way to your wet mound. She quickly ripped your thong from your body, causing your back to arch. “Oh how I missed you sweet girl.” She spoke into your vagina before diving in. Spreading your lips open she placed a kiss on your clit.  “Oooh, yes! Make me feel good Panther. She’s missed you like crazy.” In response Shuri attached her mouth to your clit sucking on it moving her head up and down, as she moaned. Your hands made their way into her hair as you tugged mouth falling wide open. “Oh God! You’re the best. The fucking best baby!” 

“You taste so sweet baby I need it I missed it so much. I’m thirsty baby. Let me drink it.”

“Mhmm drink me baby! Make this pussy squirt in your mouth.” She added two fingers to your cunt and began to mercilessly pound into your pussy. “Oh Panther! You always know what to do! I-I’m gonna cum! Fuuuck make me cum!”

“MOOOOOMMYYYY!!!” Your eyes widen and Shuri immediately detached from your pussy and hit the floor. “What the fuck” she mouthed at you.  “I don’t know” you mouthed back quickly adjusting your clothes “Hold on Zah!” You yell. “Go to the room. Hurry!!” You whisper yell at Shuri as she spider crawled to the room, To clean your juices off of her, picking up your ripped underwear on the way. She got out just in time as Zahir and his father walked into the room. Your face immediately dropped. “H-hey! What are you guys doing here? How’d you get in?” You’re voice shook a bit. 

“It was unlocked”

Zah’s Father Traves looked around the room as though he was searching for something. You snapped. “Uh hello! That doesn’t mean you can just walk in.” His eyes met yours as a grimace sat on his face. 

“Who you got over here?”

“Don’t start that Trav. Why are you here?”

“Zah, wanted me to see the gauntlet that ‘mommies friend’ made him.” He said putting his fingers up in air quotes. “Who’s mommies friend. And why haven’t I met him before he’s been around my son.” On cue, Shuri reappeared from the room, mugging Traves hard, buttoned up and fresh as though nothing had happened. Zah’s eyes lit up and he ran toward her full speed.

“SHURIIII!!” 

“Zah Zah!! My main man! What’s up little guy! Still working on those muscles I see!” Shuri smiles swooping him up into her arms. Traves watched in shock as his son played with the Queen of a nation. “Yep! I can do a hundred push ups.”

“No you can’t!” Shuri said in playful disbelief. “Uh huh! I can show you!” He said trying to wiggle out of her arms. “Oh yea? I gotta see this. You’ll have to show me later. But, Right now I need you to go up to your room and don’t come down until me or your mommy come to get you. Ok” 

“Yes, ma’am” he said before taking off running to his room. 

“Are you gonna introduce us Y/n?” Trav interrupts. “I know who you are, and I know you know who I am. So that won’t be necessary.” Shuri says, staring him down. She was fully aware of the checkered past of you and Zah’s father and she was not a fan, nor did she intend to pretend to be. Trav looked at Shuri and scoffed. “I know of you. But I don’t know enough about you for you to be around my son.” Shuri chuckles, looking at you. “This guy” she says pointing at him with her thumb.

“Yo, what the fuck is your problem!?” He says stepping forward as Shuri took a step forward as well. 

“I don’t like you. And that’s not as much of a problem for me as it is you.” Shuri calmly states. “This what you doing now y/n. You fucking females, got my son around this dyke. Bout to have him confused.” Shuri laughed, grills glistening in the suns rays. “Scared a woman might be more of a man than you?”

“Just cause you look like one doesn’t mean you measure up”

“Ah Ha! Is that why you’re staring so hard. Y/n I think he’s trying to tell us something. What did that video you were showing me say. *singing* Be who you arrrrree.” Traves clears the room, stepping in Shuri’s face, as she stands there with a smirk on her face. “Oooh, aggressive, I’m shaking.” She states sarcastically.

“Ok, ok! Listen you two! We’re adults. This is stupid!”

“No, Sthandwa. He likes hitting women right? Let him hit me.” Shuri cocked her head to the side, the smirk never leaving her face. 

“Oh that’s what she told you.”

“Nah. That’s what I saw. And I’ve been waiting for your ass ever since”

“Shuri baby. Let it go. He isn’t worth this”

“You’re right. But you and Zah are. So, tell me. Why are you here and why do you have Zah, Because as far as I know y/n has a restraining order against you and you’re only allowed supervised visits.” 

“You should mind your fucking business”

“You haven’t guessed it yet? Y/n and Zahir are my fucking business, and you have 30 seconds to get out of my face and out of this house before I stomp you through the floor.” Your phone began to ring getting you and Traves’s attention. Shuri’s eyes remaining trained on Trav. 

“Yes he’s here….. we’re safe, but how did he get Zah!…. No he’s staying here. Why would you let that happen!…. Just get them sent here!” You hang up. “The police are on their way I suggest you go peacefully so we don’t make a scene in front of Zah. Please.” You finally walked around the couch leaning against the back. Trav looked at you and then to Shuri. He nodded his head and turned to walk out, when suddenly he decides to run over to try and wrap his hands around your throat. In the blink on an eye Shuri had her hands around his throat and he was through the living room wall with Shuri right in top of him. 

“Fuck!” You yell, as Zah came running from the room crying. You run to comfort him and sheild his eyes. Shuri’s eyes were wild as she choked the life out of Traves. 

“Are you fucking crazy!” She yelled at his unconscious body. “Shuri don’t kill him! Don’t kill him! Not infront of Zah!” Snapping out of it she stood up dusting the drywall residue off of her. “I’ll get it replaced nkosazana.” She walks over and grabs Zah from your arms as he cried. “I’m sorry, I scared you little man” she says as she sits on the stairs holding him. The doorbell rings and there was a knock on the door. “Police!!”

“Take him upstairs please”

“I got him.” She says, carrying him up the stairs. Opening the door you let the police in to get Trav. “What happened here ma’am?” They asked. “Um He got a bit belligerent and fell through the wall” You say quickly coming up with an excuse to cover Shuri’s ass. They looked at you skeptically but proceeded to arrest him and escort him off of the property. “What the fuck was that” you say to yourself as you walk up the stairs to check on Shuri and Zah. Opening the door your heart melts at the sight infront of you. Shuri lay in the bed with Zah on her chest she sang him a song in Xhosa as he fell asleep. The sunset cast an orange glow throughout the room, pouring over your son and your girlfriend. You’d never felt more safe and protected than you had in that moment. Closing the door you head down stairs to clean up the mess. 

After a while you hear shuffling on the stairs. Looking up you see Shuri headed down. You continue clearing the wine glasses from the living room table. You try to walk straight past her to the kitchen but she grabs your arm pulling you into her. “Are you mad Ubusi? I’m so sorry I’ll get it fixed. I just got so angr-“ the glasses in your hand fell to the floor and you grabbed Shuri by the collar of her shirt smashing your lips into hers. She hungrily returned the kiss. Her fist bunching up the fabric in the back of your dress. You pull away looking into her eyes.

“Thank you so much Shuri. I’ve never felt so safe, so protected in my life. I-I’m so sorry about all this, this definitely was not the plan for you to have to come into this bullshit today. I understand if you don’t want to have to deal with this. I already have a child I know you don’t need all of this baggage. I don’t want to be a burden.” You start to break down in her arms. 

“Hey, hey” She takes your chin in her pointer finger lifting your head up to her. “When did I suggest that you were a burden?” You try to look down and her grip tightened on your chin. “No, no. Look at me and you listen. Listen to me good. It will never. NEVER be an issue for me to protect what I love. And I loooove you. And I loooove Zah. And you can put a frame around that hole in the wall to represent the bare minimum of what I’d do to anybody who has the gall to threaten my family. There’s no doubt in my mind that you will be my wife one day and I’m going to treat you as such. So get used to being loved and protected like you never have before. I’d move mountains for you umfazi. You’ve got to know that.” As this fine specimen of a woman reassured you of her commitment to you and your son only one thing ran through your mind. 

“Fuck me Shuri” Shuri’s head canted back in surprise but a slow smile spread across her face. Those beautiful grills showing themselves again. “You want me to fuck you?” She said licking her lips. You nod. “Hard and long make me cum over and over again. Take care of me Shuri.” Her eyes darkened and her nostrils flared as she licked her bottom lip nodding. “Gladly.” She picked you up carrying you to the room. As soon as the door closed you began shedding Shuri’s clothes. Unbuttoning her shirt and letting it fall to the floor. You couldn’t wait to see her undressed in all her naked glory. Attaching yourself to her neck you begun to suck, kiss, and lick all over her. You wanted to taste her, to feel her, hell to live in her skin. 

Removing yourself from her arms you kissed her while walking her back towards the bed. “C-can I be in control for awhile. I want to make you feel good.” Shuri raised a brow, smiling at the irony of the question. “Just do it sthandwa.” You took her by her waist and positioned her on your lap to straddle your thigh. Once on top of you she pulled your dress over your head allowing your breast spill out. Tossing your dress to the side she began to grind into your thigh as you flexed it and sucked on her breast. “Ssss oooh” She moaned as you grab her hips guiding her thrust. She began tugging and pinching on your nipples while nibbling on your ear. Your hands were all over her body as she began to ride you with fever. “Mmmmm undenza ndizive kamnandi (you make me feel so good)” She whispered in your ear. Whimpering, her hot breath caressing your skin. “You take such good care of us mama, I want to make you feel good baby girl, I want to make you cum. I want to take care of you too baby. I can take care of you too.” Shuri’s hips stuttered before she picked up her pace. Throwing her head back and grabbing her one of her breast. “Oooo YES! Take care of me bhabha (baby)” Grabbing her ass and squeezing you ask “You gonna cum for me?”

She nods biting her lip “mhmm”. Watching Shuri unravel for you made you swell with pride. Allowing her to release herself from her protectiveness allowing her to set aside masculinity and be treated like the pretty pretty princess she was made you feel…. Powerful. You smack the side of her ass “Cum pretty girl. Cum for me so I can taste you.” A high pitched groan fell from Shuri’s mouth as she began to release on your thigh. Her body shook as you sucked her whole breast into your mouth moaning. “inkosazana entle (pretty Princess)” You say once she calms down from her orgasam. She shivered hearing you speak to her in her native tongue. Her eyes were glazed over in bliss as she succumbed to you. Allowing you to easily lie her on her back. You hover over top of her and slowly kiss her lips. “I love you Shuri Udaku” you whisper. “I love you too sooo much y/n l/n.” She sounded so soft, so feminine. You smile and began kissing your way down her body. Getting on your knees on the side of the bed you pull Shuri to the edge and begin to dive in. You lap at her clit and she starts climbing up the bed running in over stimulation. You grab her thighs pulling her back to you. “Mm mm, no running baby” 

You open your mouth wide and take her entire pussy inside your mouth and suck. Sucking all the cum off of her pussy. You open her pussy lips with a long stripe of the tongue and then focused on her clit. Grabbing a hand full of your locs she began grinding her pussy into your face. You opened your mouth and moved your head in circles allowing her to use your face to get off. “Uhn oh fuck y/n I’m gonna cum again. Oh Bast, Oh Bast, You feel her thighs shaking above your shoulders. You give her a muffled “uhhuh” and she immediately gushes onto your face. You clean her up with your mouth and come up to give her a kiss. She looks up at you like you moved heaven and earth and you get lost in her beautiful brown eyes. Her hands traveled down your body to your bare soaking wet pussy. Running her fingers through your folds she closes her eyes and hums as she adds two fingers. You began to grind riding her fingers like a dick as she pumps in and out of you. 

Suddenly she sat up. Standing with you in her arms. She walked to the closest wall “I think you’re ready for me now.” Pressing her kimoyo bead earring, her strap materialized and she slowly sunk it into you. You wrapped your arms around her neck as she grabbed your ass pressing you harder onto her strap. Both your heads lulled forward foreheads connecting as she began to move. Bouncing you up and down her shaft by gripping your ass cheeks. 

“Shuri! Yes!” She pressed you harder against the wall. Taking you by the back of your knees she held you wide open pressing your legs back into the wall she drilled into you. Your mouth fell open as you began to fill full. Your body reaching the brink of explosion. 

“Hmmmm, fuck me, fuck me Shuri. F-fuck me!”  You grunted tears streaming down your face as she set an unimaginable pace, placing your legs up on her shoulders and using the wall for balance. She got deeper slowing her strokes to a slow roll. “ndive mntanam (you feel me baby), Deep inside you. I’m trying to touch your heart. Can you feel it?” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as saliva comes out of the side of your mouth. Shuri chuckles and picks up the pace. “Oh you love this shit. You like when mommy takes care of you? Hm you like watching me put a man through a wall for you don’t you? It makes that pussy leak huh?” 

“Yes I love it! It’s sexy as Fuck. FUUUUCKKK! I’m cumming baby!” You began creaming all over Shuri’s strap. Body convulsing but she didn’t let up. “Just the thought got you cumming like that?” She walked you over to your vanity knocking everything off of it. Taking you off of her strap only for a second before she turned you around and pressed your breast against the cool surface of the vanity and entered you from behind. Grabbing your hair she pulled your head back forcing you to look at you two in the mirror. You watched her chain slap against her chest with each stroke, making your pussy clench around her. “Look at how sexy we are together. How I got your body trembling baby you needed me huh?” You nod. “Nuh uh, ndiphendule mntanam (answer me baby)”.  

“Got damnit yes! I’m a fiend for it Shuri! You fuck me so good!”

“Ooo I like that shit.” In response you throw one of your legs up onto the vanity and start to toss your ass back at her slapping it against her firm stomach causing it to recoil. Shuri lost her mind. “Myyyy Baaaast!! Throw that shit back for me. Oh my Bast. You should see this shit. You’re gonna make me cum.” 

“Fill me up Panther! Give me that cum!”She reached around your body and began rubbing your clit digging deeper inside of you with her strap as she got closer to her peak. “Oh Fuck mama, I’m gonna explode!” Simultaneously you both had explosive releases. Shuri’s legs gave out as you both fall to the floor. You fall beside her and you both lay staring at the ceiling catching your breath. 

“That was fucking AMAZING.” You say dreamily. “Hell yea.” Shuri agreed. You turn and position yourself on top of her lying on chest. “You’re on a roll today with destroying shit though” You say pertaining to all of your makeup items that had been on your vanity. Shuri laughs, “We’ll go shopping tomorrow sweet girl.” A few beats pass before she breaks the comfortable silence. 

“ndizakwenza umfazi wam (I’m going to make you my wife)”

[cassieuncaged]

Grave Bound - Chapter 15

Chapter 14

Summary: Elias regrets his decision. Obviously.

TW: angst, heartache, weed, language,

WC: 2 K

A/N: The whole these three opening up a shop together plot point was taken from @emotionalcadaver headcanons from awhile back. Thank you for the inspiration, my dear!

Taglist: @roofgeese, @detectivelokis, @areyenotfondofmelobster, @poisonedtruth, @confidentandgood, @emotionalcadaver, @chadillacboseman

“This came together all right,” King clapped his hands together, assessing the newly renovated garage. It wasn’t much to look at but the windows were no longer busted and the new sign had a nice ring to it.

The Underworld.

It was like old times, a tribute to brotherhood and comradery amongst a hellish time on earth. Fate had brought them together, twice in one lifetime.

“I like it,” Chris chirped proudly, arms crossed across a puffed out chest. “Can’t wait to actually get down and dirty with my hands.”

“Jesus Christ, Taylor,” the older man chuckled, “We’re fixing cars not drowning in pussy.”

“I’m sorry,” one hand mussed a plume of skunk black hair, pink ears glowing brightly. “It’s just nice to actually be doing something for a living, y’know?”

“And living on a cushy pile of money for the rest of your life just ain’t gonna cut it, huh?” Elias sagged against the doorway. “You’re something, Taylor.”

“He’s full of shit is what he is,” King stalked over to his buddy, “How do you like the office, boss?”

“Cut that out,” Elias groaned, rolling his eyes cartoonishly. “I’m only taking that title because you’re dogshit at math. Not that I’m much better.”

“You’re pretty smart. I’ve seen you weasel your way out of some pretty sticky situations. Got to be quick on your feet to succeed in this world.” A gold tooth glinted under the fluorescent light.

“Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night,” Elias grinned before King was playfully mussing a head of tawny locks.

“Can’t believe you got that mane of yours trimmed. Look like you used to years ago.”

“Almost expect you to cock a shotgun in my face again,” Taylor chuckled as his sergeant blushed awkwardly. It was almost sweet how easy it was to flush freckled cheeks.

“That reminds me!” suddenly King was striding toward the back of the building. The muffled sounds of boxes being moved were heard as the other two men milled around. Normally Chris found talking to Elias to be the easiest past time in the world.

The man had a calming presence, one that had gotten him through plenty of hard days after returning from Vietnam. Stars and constellations flickered dully in comparison to the nights out in the jungles.

There’s no wrong or right in ‘em.

He was philosophical back then, covered in his necklaces and bracelets, leading a bunch of scared men into the mouths of hell with a capable fearlessness that had been a believable façade. Jaded benevolence at its finest.

After countless surgeries years later, it wasn’t shocking that his spark had begun to die out, especially as blue eyes wearily focused on the cracks of the concrete floor. They were trained as killing machines and forced to retreat into society like nothing had ever happened. That would eat away at even the strongest men.

But there was something missing, a sadness permeating a shell of a man.

“You still got that headband?” Chris pushed playfully, trying to start a conversation. Elias grinned hollowly, sunken eyes flicking up to the hair that tickled his brow.

“Nah,” mousy locks shook in time with sagging shoulders, “Maggie has it tucked away somewhere. At least she used to. Might’ve tossed it by now.”

“Thought of seeing anyone around here?” Taylor asked innocently as Elias sidled over to him.

“Yeah,” he sighed, attempting to make small talk. Life had all seemed more difficult without the woman by his side. She was gone, there, then gone again in a flash. Yet the thought of her lingered like a ghost. This was supposed to be easy, give them a chance to move on. His heart bled more every day. “Nothing that stuck.”

“Have you tried-” there was a crash in the back followed by an exaggerated goddamnit.  Both men tried to ignore whatever King was attempting to do, conversation fizzling out.

“Let’s not harp on it right now, Taylor.” Elias smiled tiredly as the younger man quieted down. King came stumbling back into the garage with an old tape deck. They hustled to clean off the work bench before the dusty machine was placed with a thud. “What the hell is this for?”

“Thought we could use some celebratory music. Even got some beers in the office for the occasion.”

“I dunno,” Chris rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “Three dudes dancing around sounds a little lame.”

“It’s only lame if you make it lame,” King called as he marched away to retrieve the aforementioned refreshments. “Ain’t that right, Elias?”

“Only lame if you make it lame, Taylor.” A long arm was slung around Chris’ shoulder as his former sergeant retrieved a joint from his shirt pocket, followed by a plastic zippo. It was bright white, just like Janis and Jimi had.

Supposedly. Chris was never sure he believed that myth. Instead, he watched as Elias sucked on the end of the joint until the tip burned orange like a miniscule sun. Any of his troubles would soon float away as the heady smoke permeated his lungs. Chris was thankful; the man didn’t deserve to be miserable, even if he brought it on himself.

“You packin the good shit?” King toted a sixer in one hand a box of eight tracks in the other. Chris took a toke himself as Elias grinned broadly.

“Always.”

It only took a few minutes until the tape deck was hooked up and the beer was flowing.

“This one goes out to my mopey friend who best get his shit together and party with the rest of us.” Two pairs of dark eyes settled on the wiry man who sat on the bench next to the dusty old machine. Elias rolled his eyes as The Tracks of My Tears began to play.

For a mere moment, he was back in Vietnam, among the friends he’d made. His cadets that he’d been tasked to lead in an unfair war. Candles were lit on every surface while a lone radio was tuned in to the American station back in Saigon. He wondered what happened to most of those men, fearing the worst. Sometimes, not knowing was better than the actual answer. Especially if they could live in his mind, eternally happy and unharmed.

Right beside a blushing Maggie, pressed against his chest as they swung in that flimsy hammock. Nothing could hurt her.

“So take a good look my face!” King started the chorus, off beat and wild as beer dripped onto the concrete while Chris pulled Elias to his feet. The two smaller men spun and swayed for a moment. “And if my smile looks out of place!”

“If you look closer it’s easy to trace the tracks of my tears!” He chimed in, spinning Chris playfully under one arm. The lyrics stung as his own eyes grew glassy.

It’s just the weed.

But that was a lie they all could see through.

……

A blond ponytail bobbed as they walked through the park, enjoying the time she got to spend with her brother. Julia liked how boyish the old haircut made Elias, a look he hadn’t worn since Vietnam. He’d kept it pretty long once he’d finally been discharged from the hospital.

It was nice to have him home again, to have him close enough for family visits and to see his countless nieces and nephews.

But something was amiss, different than how he normally carried himself. Shoulders slumped as he hobbled along with his cane.

“Sounds like the business was a good investment.” She pried attempting not to be obvious. Maggie hadn’t been mentioned since the move, still an exposed and painful nerve.

“Too soon to tell,” Elias sighed, padding towards a vacant bench. Sagging down, clear eyes glinted at the woman expectantly. Julia grinned, taking a seat beside him. “What’s your MO?”

“I can’t just want to see my big brother?” Julia scoffed, genuinely hurt by the accusation. She had still missed him after all. “I almost lost you too, y’know.”

“Sorry,” hanging his head, one hand slid into a pocket before procuring a burlap sack of seed. A handful was thrown, scattering pellets across cracked concrete as pigeons cooed happily, “Haven’t been myself lately.”

“I’ve noticed.” She added, watching the flock close in. A part of her wanted to broach the subject while another was frightened, “It’s like a part of you got left in New York.”

“Suppose you could say that.” A sadness lingered in his voice. The wound was still raw, having never healed. It reminded her of the husk he’d been during a brutal recovery, slowly wasting away.

“You never told me about it.” She decided to try something else.

“About what?” Elias cocked his head, doggishly.

“The blind date.” Julia clapped her hands together excitedly.

“Jules…” he warned, trying to hide burgeoning exhaustion.

“It’s an innocent question. You’ve never told me.” She reasoned.

“I’m not stupid,”

“Never said you were,” A matching pair of crystalline eyes blinked expectantly. Elias sighed, not sure he was ready to reopen his past so soon.

“It was so unexpected to see her there.” Eyes shuttered briefly, remembering how earthy and gorgeous she looked in that green dress, hair in loose ringlets he loved to wrap around his finger.  “To have this missing piece of my heart just put back in place. There’s no high that compared to it.”

“You would know,” Julia giggled girlishly, earning a chuckle from her brother.

“Suppose I would,” he grinned toothily. “What an angel. And a small fucking world.”

“But…”

“C’mon.”

“I know you. There was a ‘but’, right from the beginning.”

“Not right from the beginning,” he grumbled again before leaning back. The sunlight painted him in filtered rays of gold. “There was something in my brain, Jules. After we’d gone on a few dates and spent time getting to know each other again, I realized how I didn’t fit into the equation. At least not with her.”

“How do you figure?”

“She’s like Taylor. This beam of light that had the world on a platter and volunteered to do time in Vietnam instead. There’s something as saintly about that as it is stupid. I took a gamble and got out of prison time for dealing drugs and petty theft. The best I can do is work with my hands and hope my paranoia doesn’t eat me alive. She can do whatever she wants. It’d be rude to think that being with me was in her future.”

“Maybe. But look where Chris is. He jumped at the chance to be reunited with you and King instead of taking job on Wall Street. We don’t have to take the paths presented to us. I don’t think you’re giving Maggie enough credit. From everything you told me, it sounds like she loved you more than anything.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Too late. I mean, she got injured too. If there’s anyone that would understand, it’d be her. And you left her with a goddamned letter? I should punch you in the nose for that.”

“Julia, please,” Now he was begging, tired of reliving it all. Eyes glazed, she could tell he was close to crying. “It’s over.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Why do you care?”

“Because you were happy. I can’t even begin to describe how upbeat you were after that little blind date. It was like the planets aligned and everything made sense after years of pain and loneliness. It was like before you volunteered to go to war in the first place. You were yourself again.”

“I shouldn’t have left her.” Elias admitted miserably, shoulders slumping. His eyes fell to the pigeons, watching one’s rounded head nuzzle at another’s shiny feathers. “I miss her, Jules. More than I could ever put into words.”

“I know,” she scooched closer, wrapping an arm around him. She couldn’t offer any answers, but she could offer all the support he needed. But Julia couldn’t mend broken hearts.

And two people were still aching.

[komaedahcs]

IM ALIVE!!!! Hello!!!! I am so sorry for being gone for so long out of no where, it’s been difficult for me to post for awhile because of IRL stuff going on, but I had to make time for something on our boy’s birthday, so here’s this!

Morning time with Nagito on his birthday!!!

Luckily, you somehow wake up first. You were planning to set up a nice breakfast before your boyfriend Nagito woke up.

You slowly move out of the bed to avoid waking him up, and as you leave the room you get a look at his sleeping form. He was snoring quietly and hugging a pillow with the most peaceful look on his face. Your heart swelled with love for him.

For breakfast you make eggs and bagels with various spreads and toppings laid out on the table along with a pot of green tea. In the center of the table, you place a vase of Iris flowers (they symbolize hope!) and next to it, you place his present, a gold necklace with a yellow butterfly pendant (yellow butterflies also represent hope heehee) wrapped in a light green butterfly print wrapping paper. You also tie a few balloons of various colors on the chairs.

Upon hearing the noise of your cooking, Nagito wakes up a bit bewildered by your absence and heads into the kitchen in his pajamas to see what you were doing. Upon seeing everything his eyes widen.

“Happy birthday babe!!” You exclaim happily.

“S/o?! You...you didn’t have to..” he started.

“But i did!! Come on! Eat up! You got a whole day of celebration ahead of you!” You reply as you plant a quick kiss on his forehead.

Nagito’s eyes start to water up a bit as he smiles warmly. He places his hand on your cheek and pulls you in for a proper kiss. After pulling away, he grabs your hands and looks into your eyes. “Thank you my love, it’s perfect.”

“Anything for you pretty boy!” You say cheekily with a wink, causing a pink tint to spread across his face.

You both sit down and start eating. You reach over to his birthday present and place it in front of him. He laughs nervously. “Ah...you really are too good to me...”

“Well you deserve it!!! Now open the gift!!!”

He slowly unravels the wrapping paper, careful not to tear it as to not soil your hard work. Upon seeing the box, he opens it up and his eyes widen once again.

“Darling, this...this is..!” He stutters.

“You like it?”

“Of course i do!!! You truly are amazing, s/o, doing all of this for someone like—“

You cut him off. “Ah ah! Hey! Remember! You’re treasure, not trash!” You go over to him and kiss him on the cheek. “Want me to help you put it on, angel?” He nods happily.

You take the necklace and put it around his neck and he holds up his hair. After securing the clip, you get a pocket mirror out of a nearby drawer and hold it up in front of him. You both smile at the sight of the yellow butterfly shining in the sunlight.

Nagito then turns to you with a soft look on his face. You look into his eyes and and marvel at how mesmerizing they are along with the happiness in them. He then takes your hand in his. “I really must be the ultimate lucky student to have you in my life.”

Happy birthday Nagito!!! Thank you for being such a huge source of comfort for me and so many others!!!

[bodyswapmischief]

Jiggalo In Trouble

Well, I don't fucking know what to do. You see ... this isn't my body. This morning I was a hairy, obese, 50 year old man. Not, this muscled, latino, bad boy you see now.

You could say my life was pathetically tragic. I grew up in a time and place where I couldn't be myself. I was gay but, stayed deep in the closet. I even forced myself to marry a woman and have 3 beautiful children. I had a decent life and most days I was happy. But, I always knew I was lying to the ones I love. Yet, I knew the truth could never come out. I had to live the rest of my life playing a straight man.

But, there was always one thing on my bucket list. I wanted to have a sex with a man. Just once, and I could die happy. I tried many times, with gay dating apps, but I always chickened out at the last minute.

But, then the opportunity showed itself. I was selected by my boss to go to Las Vegas, for a work related convention. I would be the repsentive for this branch at some booths, panels, and meetings that were going to happen.

It didn't seem to stressful. Working for the company for so long, I knew I would be able to handle it. But, what I was really excited for was the possibilites. "Whatever happens in Vegas; stays in Vegas."

So, I get there and I work at the convention. It was okay. I met some cool people. I networked. But, the long days always left me tired. I had no time or energy to look for a fast one night stand. Or maybe that was just an excuse for me chickening out again. Outside of the convention, I just spent my time eating at th hotels buffet and watching TV in my hotel room.

As the paid trip was coming to an end, I had a free day all to myself. It started off the same. I went to the buffet and ate till I was full. Then I waddled back to my room. Looking through my suitcase, I saw my special clothes I packed. In case I did manage to get the courage to do a one stand, I pack some leather gear. I sighed disappointed in myself for chickening out.

But, a thought popped in my mind. I might not have the courage to have sex with a stranger. But, I could walk around the casino dressed up as a fat leather daddy. I put on the tight leather pants. I put on a plain white shirt and leather vest. I looked at the mirror and smiled. Finally, I could express myself. I put on the rest of my gear and sighed. My heart was racing. And then I opened my hotel room door.

No one was around so, I walked into the elevator. Through the sound of my heartbeat, I was screaming inside my mind. "What the FUCK am I doing." As the elevator went down people started getting in. I wanted to cry, I was so embarrassed. But, nobody said anything. No one laughed or said something mean. Some people even smiled at me. I began to relax. I began to feel happy and maybe even sexy.

It felt like the stars aligned. And maybe they did. I went to see some shows. I ate at the buffet. I got compliments from guys. I got some numbers and some invites to clubs. I even danced with some guys at a leather bar. But, I knew I wasn't going to take the next step. I was still scared. And, it was getting late. With beer in my stomach and altering my mind. I stopped at the slot machines and put a coin in, before going to my room. And, luck really was on my side. As the machine lit up, it announced I won the 20,000 dollar grand prize. I was still drunk. Staff and other people surrounded me. They were cheering and giving me balloons, a crown, and the check to collect my winnings when I was ready.

I got up, still tipsy, and stumbled a little bit. People laughed and cheered little bit. The staff slide the check into my vest pocket. "Don't worry I got him." A hot young man came to myside. He used his strength to help me stand. He had tattoos on his arms. He was wearing a tight shirt and pants. A gold chain hung from his neck.

Everyone dispersed as this Latin stud led me to the elevator. "Okay, Papi, what room are you in." To drunk I just handed him my key card. He lead me to my room and laid me on the bed. He started taking off my clothes. I don't fight back. In my drunk mind this is the fantasy I always wanted. "Okay big boy, it looks like your going to get luck again tonight."

I can't see over my giant stomach but, I could feel him take off my pants then underwear. Suddenly, I felt him push my fat pad and start sucking my dick. He started off slow and I moaned with pleasure. He kept sucking using his tongue to play with the head of my penis. My breathing became heavier and the pleasure starts to sober me up. I felt my dick about to burst with cum. I tried to warn him but he ignores me. And, I shoot my load into his mouth. I gasped in ecstasy.

Suddenly, I felt a dick in my mouth. My mouth is covered with semen, as the dick keep pulsating with cum. I swallowed what I could and then took it out of my mouth. Right in front of me was a familiar sight. I saw my penis surrounded by my fatty pelvic region. From this outside perspective I could see how fat I really was? I look down and saw that I'm in the young man's body. My dick was rock hard and my body was now lighter and stronger. Adrenalin rushed through my muscles. Tattoos covered the body.

My body finally started talking, "Like what you see?"

"What did you do to me ... to us?"

"You see I'm a juggalo and I saw you ... a man who needed to get lucky, if you know what I mean. And, after tonight's big win down stairs I know you have the money to pay me."

"But... but.... I'm in your body and you ..."

"Oh, I have a fetish. I like giving men the opportunity to be me. I mean look at you now you are stud. You are turned on just by being in that body. Just existing in that body is orgasmic for you. So, that makes sex so much better, at least for me. And, then experiencing new bodies is always fun. I haven't been in a person this fat in awhile. And your breast are so sensitive. Oh, and this tight asshole. What do you say do you want to fuck yourself, with my body."

My old body spreaded its legs, revealing its asshole. My dick was raging hard. I slowly inserted my long dark dick. It felt so good. I started going a little faster. I watch as the muscles in my caramel body flexed and relaxed. The whole experience was hot. I started touching my old body the way I knew I liked to be touched.

"Fuck this is so good. Faster, faster, faster." My old body cried out. Feeling the strength of the muscled body, I go full speed. Both of our bodies were sweating, panting, moaning. Then everything stopped, as we both cummed.

We laid side by side, a big smile on my face. My old fat body started kissing my buff chest and then up my neck. "Let me freshen up, and then it's my turn to fuck you." He whispered sexually.

I watched as he struggled to get to his feet and then as he waddled to the bathroom. I laid there exploring my new body. My dick already getting hard from my excitement.

Then, I heard the front room door open. A man with a gun walked in.

"Fuck Enrique! Cover up or something." My heart racing, I grabbed a blanket and put it over my naked body. "Good, now this is you last fucking chance. The boss wants his money and necklace back"

"You ... you ... I'm... um." I try to talk but I can't think straight. The man walked closer and grabbed me by the neck. He started choking me. I tried to fight back. But, then he grabs me by the balls. He starts squeezing them. The pain is intense, I lay still. "Good now talk or I ripped out your prized possessions." He says as he pulls out a blade.

Then from the corner of my eye, I saw my old body enter the room. "Hey! Hey! Hey! Ryan leave him alone. It's me Enrique. He has nothing to do with this."

The man on top of me looks over his shoulder. "Really!? Your in that fatass. I guess it suits you for being such a pig in the first place." He laughed. "So, where's the boss's money."

"Here, I have part of it here. This guy just won it big downstairs. And, with access to his memories, I have access to his bank accounts." Enrique smiles.

The man begins to aim his gun at Enrique. "What ... what are you doing. I ... I have the money." Enrique starts to panic.

"What is your name," the man motions to me. "Andrew," I nervously replied. The man turns his attention back at Enrique. "No you don't have the money. You have Andrew's money. The boss is fucking tired of your shit. God! I've been waiting to do this for so long," with that last word Enrique, in my body, was shot in the head. Blood splattered on the wall and was quickly pooling on the floor. I saw in shock as my old body laid thier lifeless. What the fuck was going to happen, now.

The man walks to me and I prepare for the worst. Instead, he just ripped the golden chain from my neck. "Well it looks like it your lucky day. You got an upgrade on your body.." He said, as he looked down at me. "Don't worry about your old life. There is no going back now. I'll make sure your wife and kids get what you saved in your bank and I'm pretty sure the boss will throw a little extra."

"S ... so your just going to let me go?," I asked.

"Yeah, why not? You didn't do anything wrong., besides cheating. But, we've all been there. Plus, that body has made a lot of enemies so, you won't exactly have a peaceful life. Don't get me wrong the boss will spread the word of what really happened to Enrique, but some people just really like seeing the actual body dead. So, take your winnings and find some small town to lay low and start a new life."

A new life, one that was in constant danger. This seemed more like a punishment, but in a way I guessed I deserved it. I could never go back to my old life. I knew at this point there was no use in protesting. "What about him I pointed to my dead body."

."Oh, he was a pig in life. Now he's being tortured as a fatass in hell. But, if you are talking about the body; well we have people who will take care of that. So, I recommend leaving as soon as possible."

The man patted me on the back and started to leave. "Good luck with your new life. But, if things get to out of hand for you or you are in desperate need for a job give me a call." He places a business card on the desk, before he leaves.

Now, I'm sitting here. Memories flood my mind. I saw every bad thing this body did. Using that necklace, the man took, to rob people of everything they owned, even killing people in the process. I looked at my hands, then my arms, and then my muscular torso. I had my dream body, but at what cost. I look at this memories with disgust, I knew that I wasn't capable of those acts. But, it didn't matter, the memories felt so real.

I hear a buzzing sound and snap back to reality. I start putting on Enriques clothes and feel a cell phone. It buzzes again. LAST WARNING: Destroy this phone and get out of there now!. I easily snap the phone in half and submerge the broken pieces into a nearby glass with water. I take the the business card and walked out of the room. I didn't know where I was going. I just knew Las Vegas was no longer safe for me. I need to get some where far and collect my thoughts about what the fuck happened.

[genshinfanboy]

A Cold Winter day.

[ Request: Hi, can I request a Keqing x male reader where it’s winter and they’re cuddling on her day-off?]

| Hello everyone. I will try my best. I hope I don't mess up Keqing's character I only know her personality from the main Archon quest. I will be doing an one-shot because you didn't specify. The two will also be at the beginning of a relationship. I hope both if these choices are alright. There will be a bit of spoilers for the Archon quest. Please feel free to change the pronouns to fit your own. I hope everyone enjoys.

Keqing x M! Reader.

Warning: spoiler for the main Archon quest.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was the middle of winter. Snow was falling down all of Liyue. It was definitely a bit cold. (Y/N) had gone to one of the vendors of the harbor. He wanted to get his new girlfriend a necklace. He had saved a bit up from all of the commissions he had been doing. He knew Keqing was super stressed when dealing with the aftermath of the end of the Jade Palace. He found it cute how they started talking after she didn't believe how selfless he was. It has been a bit since he was last in Liyue. He wanted to introduce his sister to Keqing the moment he found her. Paimon was looking at the choices. "Ohh Paimon thinks you should get this one for Keqing!" She said pointing at a necklace made out of Core lapis. It looked really like a sign of status. The gem was big and had a gold like metal around it. "Isn't that a bit flashy Paimon? It doesn't seem like her style. Keqing has a more modest like sense of style." (Y/N) said. He looked at the options. He saw one that looked like a flower. "Paimon look at this necklace instead." He said pointing at it. "No way Paimon still thinks you should go with her suggestion!" She argued before they both heard someone calling (Y/N)'s name. He looked around and his face became red from a blush. He hoped it wasn't noticeable because of the could. He moved his scarf up a bit on his face. He walked over. "Hey Keqing!" He greeted with a wide smile. "Hello (Y/N). It's been awhile. You should've informed me so I could've planned some things to do on my day off. Next time inform me so we can plan more effectively. Would you like to spend the day together?" Keqing asked with a blush. He nods. His (e/c) eyes shining with joy. "Of course. Is it alright if I hold your hand as we walk?" He asked holding his hand out. He saw her reluctantly reach out and grab her hand. She was definitely cold to the touch. It made him want to wrap his arms around her and pull her into a tight hug. That would definitely upset and embarrass his girlfriend though. "Hey Keqing which of these necklaces would you choose?" Paimon said. She noticed her boyfriend pout at the flying companion. She walked over to look at necklaces. "I like the flower one. The Core Lapis one is a bit flashy. It would make me feel unapproachable. I want people to be able to speak their mind around me. Not to mention the size would get in the way at times. Why do you ask?" Keqing asked looking at Paimon.

She felt a bit of shifting next to her. She looked at her boyfriend and noticed him bringing out some mora. "I like to buy this necklace please." He said and gave her a shy smile. This made her face super red. She saw him grab the necklace. "Keqing may I put it on you?" (Y/N) said with a big grin. She hated how well his (h/c) hair framed his face perfectly and make his (e/c) eyes shine. She looked away with a dark blush and gave. a small nod. "I suppose but don't take too long." Keqing stated. (Y/N) gave a laugh her reaction was super cute. He also loved how flustered she got. He got behind her and put the necklace on. Once he hooked the clasp. He wrapped his arms around her. Her back was pressed against his chest because of the hug. He frowned at how cold she had felt. "Keqing let's go to Paimon and my inn room. I just was to cuddle." He said gently holding her close. He rested his head on the crook of her neck. She was definitely a blushing mess. "That would not be very productive even for a day off!" Keqing protested. "Please it's so cold in Liyue and I just want to hold you close and share our warmth. You don't have many days you do nothing. I also haven't seen you in awhile because I've been looking for my sister. Please indulge my selfish request." He begged. He looked over at her. He knew he was attracting a bit of attention from others. People were muttering about how cute they looked. They were surprised to see the Yuheng of the Qixing with her lover.

"Fine but stop hugging me like this you're drawing a lot of attention!" Keqing said super embarrassed. (Y/N) let go smiling brightly. He noticed her shaking a bit from the cold. He grabbed her hand and lead her to the room he was staying in. They took off the coats they were wear and sat down. Paimon had gone to spend some time with Xiangling. It was nice being just the two of them. Keqing had sat a bit away from her boyfriend which made him pout. He decided to wrap his arms around her. He pull her close to him before laying down with her in his arms. She was now resting on his chest a bit stiff. After a moment she relaxed she didn't know how long she'd be able stay still. "Your heart is racing. I can hear every time it beats." Keqing stated which made his heart speed up. "It must be because I have the most beautiful lady in my arms." (Y/N)said with a dorky grin. He gave a small chuckle at her reaction and kissed the top of her head. "You're lucky I love you." She mumbled with a dark blush. They laid there talking for hours. Keqing had spoken about some issues and what was going on in Liyue. While (Y/N) had told her all about his adventures. They talked late into the night shifting every once and awhile. By the time Paimon returned to the inn room she found the two asleep. Keqing in (Y/N)'s arms and her head resting on his chest.

|Thanks for reading. Have a wonderful day or night. 

[alias-b]

sins of my youth. 013

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

Hey all!! Evie attends a party to get back into the swing of being a messy teen and the night doesn't go as expected. Billy opens up about his past in California with a story Evie finds all too familiar. TW: Slight sexual refs, teens drinking/smoking, talk of past s*icide/death, and addiction. TAG LIST OPEN. Always open to chatting about the fic, thanks!!

Chapter 13: Almost Paradise

   “Are you sure about this?” Heather spoke over Evie’s shoulder.

   “We always hit the mid-winter break parties. Why wouldn’t we, Heath?” Evie applied her favorite shade of cherry in the mirror. Makeup still only covered so much that next night. But, with the swelling down, she hoped it wasn't that bad.

   “Figured you’d be hanging with Billy.”

   “We haven’t done anything...much. His dad is grinding him to stay in. He'll...also be at the party I'm sure.”

   "That why you put on the new bra?"

   "It's not new..." Evie fixed her sleeve to hide the black strap. Blushed a whole garden of strawberries. "Like I said...haven't done anything."

   “Haven’t had the chance, hm.” Heather plopped down and stole some mirror space. Relenting as she applied a lustrous pink shade to her lips that matched the scrunchie holding her curls high. “I know you’re hopelessly into him. All the eye fucking over the movie last night. If you hadn’t have passed out on the couch-”

   “Would...you be mad?” Evie looked up.

   “I’m just coming around to him again. If you trust him, I will.” Heather smiled. “I just have to be the bitchy best friend. Make him sweat it out for my own enjoyment. Cute how he tucked you in last night through, looked like he might not leave you.”

   Evie lowered a brush doused in gold glitter from her eye.

   “I am sorry...about the whole-”

   “You don’t have to be sorry about him, Bowers is the one that should be sorry.” Heather frowned. “I’m not mad you didn’t tell me. Honest. I get it. I can’t imagine what I would have done.”

   “You wouldn’t be in that situation because you’re smarter than me.”

   “No, I’ve made poor boy choices too. We both know that.” Heather beamed. “Can I borrow your earrings? The little cherries you made.”

   “Sure, keep them. You get more mileage out of them than I do. I can make more.”

   Heather squealed and went to steal them. Evie thought it funny, her friend would rather wear her craft projects than the baby diamonds in silver and gold her parents were always buying.

   “Hey, I… My mom’s been lying to me. About my dad.” Evie admitted. “He’s trying to call and give her money, I think. I don’t know if he asks about me. Where he is. I’m just… I don’t know what to do with it all, Heath.” Her voice broke and leveled out. Slowly the brush came up again. “You ever feel like you remember things differently? Like maybe we never see things as they are, we just see things as we are?”

   Heather turned to see, still putting the earrings in.

   “I’m sure Mona’s trying to protect you. She’s always been so much.” She pressed her lips and tilted Evie’s face to check her work as she always did. “Covered it nicely. How’s your head?”

   “No pounding anymore. Not getting dizzy, I think I barely avoided a concussion.” A beat. “I just wonder what exactly she’s protecting me from. It’s eating me.”

   Felt like too appropriate an expression.

   “We’ll figure it out, but you put way too much pressure on yourself like you’re alone, Eves, and you’re not.” Heather pulled Evie in to hug her. “You have me and Steve. Friends at school.”

   Blue hopped up on the desk to meow loudly, both girls broke to giggle. 

   “Yes, you too, cutie.” Heather scratched the kitten’s chin. “And Billy, I guess. Whatever.”

   “Yeah, I don’t know what we’re doing. But, I don’t mind it so I guess I’ll chase that.” Evie thumbed Heather’s lipstick at the corner. “You’re set.”

   “You, too. Let’s head out.” Heather winked and stood up.

   Blue trailed after them so Evie filled her dish. Grabbed a prized jacket she used to be too afraid to wear for how loud it was. Red leather and fringe. Bitchin'. A signature piece of clothing. Undoubtedly Evangeline. Fredrick didn't like it so it was packed away with all her sharp edges.

   Heather beamed as her friend donned it. Completed Evie's look with a black skirt and graphic shirt tucked in. Vaguely mesh pattern tights and her warm boots. Gold hoops gleaming and her little music note necklace. Plucked piece of juicy fruit and a hard pit for good measure. Curls bounced, almost obscene.

   “Think Brock and his shitheads will crash?” Heather waited for the door to be locked before they got into her car.

   “I’m not worried about Brock after what happened with Fredrick.” Evie stared at the empty place in the Hargrove driveway where Billy’s Camaro usually sat. No doubt he was already there raging. Evie got annoyed with the flame in her stomach that flickered at the thought of running into him there with all the dancing they’d been doing. Every little maybe and almost. Syllables rolling off tongues to tangle.

   Loch Nora rangers were undoubtedly the best.

   Evie still liked parties. Liked the stimulation. The noise. That beautiful overlapping noise to wash her world out. The drunk idiot teens wandering to dance or do dumb shit. All technicolor. Even liked them better than what Fredrick would take her too. Annoying how Fredrick had become this constant life point of comparison. Physically out and still here to set the scales.

   Time for some liquor.

   She peered around and realized Steve never came to them anymore. Heather even asked him and he just declines too politely. Three drinks sank into her stomach so Evie went out back to where some meathead with no shirt was pouring. Moved through sprightly bodies to get another cup. Smoke and sweat in the cool night air. 

   “Fenny, you hear Tannen got a DUI?” Nameless meathead poured.

   “No, shit?” She took her plastic cup back. Black and gold glitter nails clicking the artificial red. 

   “Swear to god! His dad’s basically paying everyone to make it disappear.” The guy chuckled. “Lucky, the idiot didn’t crash into anyone.”

   “Yeah, he’s a mess.” Evie tipped her cup in thanks and watched teens bop around the covered pool to booming music. Rich house on a hill, no one was calling the cops. Cold and slush weren't stopping the festivities, it only made them turn up the noise and heat. Her outfit combated the lingering winter well enough. Perks of being a bigger gal. Thick skin to combat the weather and assholes. “Thanks.”

   “Plenty more to go around.” 

   Evie caught a bunch of metalheads thrashing around a huge trampoline. Jumping from the lowest part of the roof to it and climbing all over. Billy among them spitting beer and cackling. A hungry wolf against the bright moon. Readied to toss his head back and-

   “Evangeline!” He howled and she rolled her eyes below, drinking. Cup lifted to acknowledge them. Billy flashed his teeth, glowed there at her. Still among his following.

   "You clean up well, Fenny!" One boy cooed so Billy shoved him into one of the many seat cushions that had been stolen to line the perch.

   "Why not join us? Stay awhile." Billy crouched at the edge. Admired Evie glittering and that outfit. Tassels constantly in motion, she looked like a song leaping off unworthy pages. They echoed the calls and she laughed outright, went back inside to a chorus of whines wanting her to stay and indulge them in their debauchery.

   “They out of the hard stuff already?” Heather approached and offered a tiny joint to Evie that she caved and puffed. “Tammy’s asking. I’m switching to water.”

   “Beer only it looks like. It’s raining boys out there though.”

   “Oh, maybe I’ll catch myself one.” Heather winked and wandered outside with the smoke.

   Evie got squished in between her and Tammy moments later. Talking school and beauty and graduation getting closer. Across the way, Billy had a whole room entertained with his California stories. Evie lingered to see his eyes flicker over to her.

   The strange radar he had when she was around. Always on high. He smiled bright and animated his tale, kept them all hooked and laughing because he was just too badass. Too good. A firework in this boring town. Perched on the table with a smoke in hand.

   Spinning tales around the way he spun her under confetti.

   And they kept peering at each other. Billy got more persistent as Evie made it a point not to look. To stay reeled into Tammy gushing about the car she was almost saved up for. This baby pink bug she dreamed about. Robin joined them and Tammy blushed as they shared a freshly rolled joint. Heather and Evie shared knowing looks.

   Billy decided he wanted attention from Evangeline and left the stories behind to cross toward her. Evie felt sparks when he plucked up her hand, nodding aside. One tug and smoldering eyes. She didn't move and played a pout.

   “I’m having an important discussion with the girls about the principal's clearly fake mustache, Hargrove.” She lifted her eyes, biting her lip as if that might curve her intoxication. Curled a smirk he matched.

  "Thrilling. Something tells me it ain't getting mileage." Billy didn’t take his eyes from Evie. “Ladies?”

   “We just finished actually, Evie was about to get herself another drink. You look like just the soul brave enough to help with that.” Tammy, oblivious but a wingman to the end, cut in so Billy pulled Evie up.

   Heather flashed a guilty smile as they went off because Evie was aimlessly bickering. They didn’t go out back for a drink. Billy climbed the steps with her hand. Slowly Evie adjusted to lace their fingers. They moved over bodies and went down the hallways into a vacant TV room with beaten couches and thick screens.

   “What are you doing?” Evie dropped her arms as Billy bit his tongue with intent eyes and crossed into her space for a kiss. Tasting of some green apple schnapps the boys outside had downed with all the hard stuff.  

   “Just something I thought about for a while.” He cupped her face for another and Evie felt dizzy for the first time after her drinks. Billy and his lips. Tasting her. Pulling her back into a couch with him.

   “You mean like a day?” Evie had giggled. Breaking the kiss to see his pupils spread.

   “Hey, it was a long, long day.” Came a shrug, eyes on her pretty tights that were sending him. “I can only say so much over the phone.” Hands worked under the skirt. Melted Evie down while she came in for more of him. 

   Straddling Billy’s hard thigh, she combed his hair back and ravished him in turn. What could she say? She liked to kiss him. Liked his mouth and his palms and his heat against her. Scorching. Billy adjusted, taking her hips to press his leg up into her.

   Evie rocked unconsciously. Gave him a little moan. Let him untuck her shirt. She came out and felt his hand on her bra. Fingers sunk under the fabric while they locked eyes. Rolled her nipple until another moan lulled. Evie still pulling at his hair, lips opening.

   “No bad kisses yet, hm?” The hum hitched as Evie pressed into him. Kissed him deeper. Not worried she might squish him with the shameless, signature way he touched her. 

   “Let’s try a few more.” Evie about whimpered into his tongue. Brow furrowing. Breath quicker. Something ready to churn in her belly.

   Billy gripped her hips to encourage her on. Shifted down the line of her jaw. Silken mouth trailing to release warm sighs. Evie had her hands pressed against his grey tee. Skimming under the leather jacket to feel the hard lines. Miles of him to trace and explore. Shifting, one hand came to his left shoulder. Finger pressed and Billy gave a jerk, breath catching as he pulled back to hiss.

   Evie narrowed and yanked away the moment he looked in pain. Avoiding her eyes as if he wasn’t just trying to turn them over and finish this.

   “Are you okay?”

   “Fine.” Billy leaned back in for a kiss she barely responded to. Thoughts racing. “It’s nothing.” He cupped the back of her head. Lips all over Evie’s neck. Fingers slipped to push his jacket aside and Billy grasped her wrist. “Evie, it’s nothing.”

   “You’re hurt.” She frowned. Billy gripped her arm still, searching. He opened his mouth to speak and the door burst open, giggles sounding at the same time Evie threw herself out of Billy’s lap. Practically to the other side of the couch. Shamefully tucking her shirt back in.

   “Oooh, this one’s taken,” Tommy backed up and processed who was in there again with Carol under his arm, “Billy and Fenny? No fucking way, you two. Ha!” He cackled and Billy gave an agitated breath.

   “We’re busy, shut the door, man.”

   “No shit, you’re busy. I’m shocked. I thought Fen wasn’t speaking to you ever again after-”

   “Hagen, we’re talking.” Evie slid her eyes to Carol who’d gotten dead silent. Eyes bright and full of hate. Piles and piles. A tremendous build of fire and loathing directed at Evie for existing in the same space.

   “Talk away. Have fun, kids!” Tommy only found it funny. Jeering in his annoying way before Carol shoved off him and stomped out. “Hey Carol, what’s your problem?” He smacked the door shut following his upset girlfriend down the hall.

   “Shit, asshole.” Billy rubbed his shoulder. “Where were we?” The purr made Evie turn her head, thoughts elsewhere. Billy crawled to kiss her again and Evie stood. “Hey, where’re you going?”

   “I just, I feel weird now.” Evie stumbled around the coffee table. Cheeks bright and rosy. Not sparing him a glance because Carol’s eyes gnawed her. Created an incessant buzzing around her brain. Billy jolted to follow but she was out the door. Looking around for Carol and Tommy’s loudmouth. Boots hurried down the steps after Tommy, still trying to coax his girl back to the festivities.

   “Carol, hey,” Evie pushed beyond Tommy once Carol was out a sliding door, “Hey, can we just talk?”

   “You are such a fucking loser, you know that?” Carol spun on her heel to direct some teenage rage in Evie’s direction. A few outside by the kegs noticed the tiff, pausing to see. 

   A crack.

   “Why do you hate me so much?” Evie dropped her shoulders. Billy slipped out and stepped up behind Tommy, pausing at the standoff. Carol staggered. Clearly intoxicated. Cracking a huge, watery smile. Reckless. She stepped toward Evie so a burst came. “Why! I'm not mean to you! I've never been mean to you! I only talk back and I still feel guilty, but you're so... Why?”

   "You're nice to me?" She made it sound unreal and laughable.

   "Yeah, actually! I don't understand it, I've tried to be kind to you." Evie felt a tear slip down and stayed level. "No one deserves to be treated the way I see you treat others. So, why?"

   “Because!” Carol shot back, welling too. “You’re so fucking kind and...playing innocent...and you're good! And I..." She stopped with another deafening crack. So loud, it rang. Carol really stopped to reflect and hated what she saw looking back at her. But, Evie was here looking too so the hate rerouted.

   "Good?" Evie breathed and so much ugly spread in her veins like a disease.

   "And...And you get all this attention! Acting like you don’t know! And just look at you! Do you really think you’d get that attention if these boys didn’t feel sorry for you?” Carol stumbled and pointed a finger in Evie’s face, furious and shaking. Too close.

   Evie got silent. Dropped everything she felt.

   “You’re the one I feel sorry for.”

   Carol buzzed with rage and reeled back to slap her so hard, the force sent her into Tommy.

   "Girl fight!" Came some yelps.

   “What the hell, Carol?” He caught Evie on pure instinct, not understanding either. Billy charged forward and Carol kept pushing as Evie found her footing.

   A chorus of shocked gasps and awe came from the drunk teens near the pool. The music blared.

   “Hit me back, you bitch! Yeah? Do it like you did to Tannen. Think you’re any better than me!” Carol was near sobbing. Eyes crinkling with tears as she shoved before Tommy got in front of her. Looped an arm around her waist.

   “That’s enough, Care, c’mon.” He and Billy separated the girls, but Evie wasn’t trying to hit back. Just stared with huge eyes and a palm against her hot cheek.

   "Hey. Hey, you okay?" Billy stood in front of her now, tugging. Evie wasn't budging. Enthralled. Stuck. Sinking. Not good. "Let's go. She's wasted."

   “Evie!” Heather was racing across the grass to help. “Carol, back off her.” She planted her feet between them and Carol sneered, struggling against her boyfriend.

   “Ooh, Princess Heather to the rescue. Admit it, you just like being the pretty friend.” More hissing channeled out.

   “Just, shut up!”

   “How about you tell Fenny why Tannen even tried to chase her skirts that night? Yeah?” Carol broke free and tackled Heather into the grass. "Tell her what a shit friend you are, baby!"

   “Another girl fight!” Teens howled across the way. Billy and Tommy shoved in to pull the clawing women apart as they rolled around and pulled at hair.

   Evie heard herself shouting to stop, barely audible over the crowds that closed in on them to cheer and chant.

   “Tell her, sweet pea? Tell her that her dear B-F-F set her up with some animal. I was at that party, I heard you, bitch!” Carol skidded as Tommy pulled her off. Billy had Heather by the arm, trying to yank her up from the grass. She began to sniffle. “Perfect Heather. Little priss who can do no wrong. Perfect body. Perfect life. The teen dream. Tossing bones to us lowly folk when you're done.” 

   Carol laughed and cried all at once. Even the crowd slowed to watch her. Evie felt a coldness spread at the display.

   “Oh yeah, Heather, you’re a real carpenter’s dream!” Carol mocked relentlessly. “Flat as a board and needs a screw! Go on and tell Fenny what a great friend you are. You brushed Tannen aside and pawned that puppy off on someone easier.”

   “I didn’t know he was like that yet, okay! It was stupid.” Heather admitted, tears falling. Evie froze at that, didn’t move toward her.

   “Heath, what’s she talking about?” Evie hated how wounded she sounded.

   “I just thought maybe he’d cheer you up, we all were drinking and, Tannen, he...he was nice at the time. So I thought. I just...you know-”

   “Just, what?” Evie leveled out. Billy let Heather go once he brought her up from the grass so she came to Evie. Crowds all but hushed.

   “Can...Can we not talk about it here?” Heather tucked her hair aside, sounding too small.

   “No, I love an audience! Talk.” Evie’s spine went rigid.

   “I just...nudged Tannen your way. You just broke up with that guy over the summer and your dad left. Tannen was, I don’t know, it was stupid. He was nice and...and good looking. I thought he’d make you feel better. I didn’t know he was like that yet. I just was trying to hook my friend up.”

   "Please, you alluded to owing him a favor after. He ate that up. You talked up a desperate animal in need of a hot beef injection. You said Fenny could barely thread a needle these days." Carol bellowed. More shock. More awe.

   "I was super drunk!" Heather covered her eyes to rub them

   “So, you told him to try fucking me! Told him I was desperate for it!” Evie’s voice rose and Heather quelled with shame.

   “You were so sad...I thought he’d give you a good night.” The tone trailed off.

   “I’m fat, but I can get laid on my own, thanks. I don’t need your fucking help, how little do you think of me?” Evie’s curls shook around with the same fervor. Heather just held herself and stared at the grass. “Do I really seem that pathetic to you?”

   “No, it’s not that at all-”

   “It feels like that,” Evie stepped back, “keep me around because I make you look like the Queen Bee and toss some asshole with a reputation my way out of pity if I cease to function.”

   “Evie, it’s not like that!” Heather wept and got her hand shoved off when she tried to touch her friend. Evie wiggled through the crowd because it split for her fury.

   “Get off me,” she went around the house, “get away from me, Heather! I don't need you!"

   Heather stopped on the lawn and just stood there to see Evie follow the street lamps off.

   Carol watched them go, sagging into Tommy who was definitely too drunk for this.

   “Jesus, what’d you do?” He pulled her in another direction. Back to the house. Away from the excitement resuming. “Shouldn’t start that shit.” They got back inside so he led his girlfriend into an empty bathroom. “You okay?”

   “I am now. Bitches. I just...I can’t fucking…” Carol sniffled and cleared her throat. "I don't know why I hate her, okay, I just do! She just gets...everything."

   “This is about your mom getting back with that asshole.”

   “It’s not about that!” Her defense went up. “I’m just tired of Fenny acting like she can get everything she wants. Throwing herself at Billy, fuck. Wondered why he all but dropped everyone else. I thought he and Vicki had something. Gotta be kidding me.” Carol crossed her arms to lean back into the counter as Tommy washed his face with cold water, nauseous.

   “I don’t even think Fenny’s gonna go for him when she’s already got a thing with…” He perked. Lips sealing. Carol noticed.

   “Thing with who?”

   “Nothing, I just...I saw something...and I’m drunk. I’m fucking drunk, Care.” He got his shirt tugged.

   “Tommy.” She sucked her cheeks in and he knew he’d be caving. “What did you see?”

   “Evie’s been seeing Bowers, I saw her leaving his place all roughed up. Not the first time, I live a street away. Saw them in his driveway shouting at each other once. It was so dark. They kissed and she...well, her head dropped down for a bit. Thought I was having a nightmare there. I tried to forget it and just act like... I didn't believe it was her until I saw her on that bus. I'm drunk, fuck...” Tommy blurted in one breath. Carol’s lips opened.

   “No fucking way.”

   “Listen, I could be wrong-”

   “We can’t let them get away with that. I mean, he’s a teacher. What if he really hurt-”

   “You’re not doing it to save, Fenny, you’re doing it to make her life worse. Just...forget I said anything. I’m fucked up. Shit. I fucked up. I fucked up so bad.” Tommy rubbed his eyes. Let them dart. Carol slid her gaze away and crossed her fingers behind her back.

   “Fine. Whatever you say, T. We'll forget it.” Another pull brought him in for a kiss. Tommy caressed her arms and felt Carol trying to make herself small. “Can I stay at your place tonight? I can’t go home to Jason on our couch again. I just...I can’t. I can't do it, Tommy.”

   She trembled so he tucked her under his chin.

   “You know you don’t have to ask, babe.”

*** ** ** 

   Evie was down the hill still stomping under barely lit streets. Teens ranging to music still in the distance. Forgetting her. Intent, she marched over frozen sidewalks covered in slush. The tip of her nose and ears grew chilled pink. Heather had shouted after but stopped the pursuit at the end of the lawn. Ruefully, Evie wouldn’t weep, she already cried enough this damn week.

   She just wanted to be better. Higher. Then all of it.

   The unmistakable rev of Billy’s Camaro rolled up behind her.

   “Evie, don’t make me come out to steal you. Just get in.” The window came down. “You can’t walk home in that skirt with the snow. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

   She paused to hear him. Eyes on the wind sweeping frosted shrubbery about across the perfectly trimmed lawns. Rich people. Cozy in their homes burning bags of money on nights like this.

   “Are you going to be all the same to me, Billy? Tell me right now, I swear to god. Pretty face trying to get its way with words that are just...empty. You gonna get mad if I don’t put out and try to grab at me like Tannen? Why are you bothering with me?” Evie sniffled, hands out and dropping as he watched her. Brow furrowed. “You saw them looking at us funny.”

   “Evie.” He reasoned. “Where am I right now? Am I back there shotgunning free liquor or am I freezing my balls off coming after you? Again.”

   “You’re here with me. But, how do I know this isn’t some weird game for you with a prize at the end. Kids like us, we don’t go together. Are you trying to win a prize so you can move to the next? Can’t blame me for thinking it.” She approached the car. Still guarding herself. “I can’t let that go.”

   “I like you, Evie, and I can tell you that a hundred times. But, it means nothing if you won’t let me.” Billy leaned over to click the door open. “You don’t let anyone like you.” He waited as she didn’t move, hands gripping the wheel before he sighed. “Didn’t notice the other kids, if you really care. I’m the Keg King.”

   A cold breath puffed out her nose, almost amused.

   “I was enjoying the view.” Billy drew those glittery blues to her expression.

   “What makes this a view?”

   “You.” A shrug pulled along with her heartstrings. “Get in, let’s go somewhere.”

   “Where?”

   “Anywhere you like. Just as we planned, remember?” Billy winked at her and Evie’s walls lowered. She looked back at the house party echoing and got in to buckle herself.

   “How much have you had to drink?”

   “Relax.” He sped off. “Barely anything and I even drank water. You proud?” He fiddled with the radio. “Wasn’t feeling it tonight.”

   “Looked like a party on the roof.”

   “Well, I still gotta impress the following.” Billy gestured to the glovebox. “Put a tape in, will you?”

   “You and your hair metal...and...oh?” Evie skimmed the selection while they whirled away from Loch Nora. “What is this? Fleetwood Mac. I’m so impressed.”

   “Ugh, that must be Max’s, she keeps leaving her tapes in my car. Throw it out.”

   “Wow. Apologize to Stevie.” Evie gasped and mocked. Cupped her hands over the sacred tape. “He didn’t mean that.” Billy peered over to crack a laugh at her jabbing. “Alright, alright. Can’t go wrong with a little Queen.” 

   “Fair enough.” Billy let her slip the tape in and mess with the volume so they could still hear each other. “You really mad at Heather?”

   Evie went flat.

   “Yes and I’ll stay mad at least until school starts back up.” She crossed her arms, relaxing as the heat picked up. Too good just as Carol said.

   “Where am I taking you?” Billy turned down another road, flying beyond the trees and Evie stared at his profile. Intent on the road for once. 

   “You opposed to a little more cold?”

   “I have blankets in back. Might have to get cozy.” He slid those eyes over and Evie sucked her cheeks in. 

   “Take a left up here. I know a secret spot.” 

** ** ** 

   “You didn’t say anything about hiking through a dark forest,” Billy whined with his arms full of blankets. "If Michael Myers reams my ass-"

   "Maybe I'm a Thing like the movie and I'm taking you somewhere to assimilate." Evie teased ahead of him.

   "I actually like the sound of that, Angel. Proceed. Assimilate with me all night long." Suggestive.

   She just laughed, loathing him.

   “It’s not far. I'll protect you, Billy. You hear the water and ice cracking? Chicken.” Evie flicked a flashlight they snagged from his car after parking in the thrush. “Just up there. C’mon. I promise it’s worth it.” She hurried up, leaving him behind to watch her silhouette in starlight

   “Someday, I’m gonna stop chasing this girl,” Billy uttered under his breath, hurrying to follow because that was the biggest lie he'd ever told himself. “The whole ‘no murder’ deal stands.”

   “Naturally.” Evie giggled and stepped over a log. “Here.”

   They walked along the train tracks going both directions. Came upon the cliffs where the bridge was laid out. Billy looked out at the frozen water yards below. At the moon and stars bathing the space in an ethereal glow. Frozen water framing the rocks. Looked like a castle full of magic.

   “Down here.” She went to the edge and climbed down under the steel and wood tracks. Into the space that was suspended over the great fall.

   “This is your spot?”

   “You'll see why.” Evie reached for his wrist so he didn’t trip. Snagged the blankets from him. “Prettier with all the icicles. Look.” Billy did. Admired the iridescent, dewy glimmer. “And now we wait.”

   “Wait?” He came to Evie, lighting a cigarette. “For what?”

   “You’ll see, I said.” She settled a blanket around her shoulders and gave him one. Playfully covering his shoulders.

   “Wait to freeze to death.” Billy had grumbled as Evie paced farther, stepping over boards and balancing on steel beams.

   He saw the moonlight stream through the tracks into her curls. Admired her when she peered back to press a genuine smile. His cigarette dropped. Cherry glowing all the way down. Air whistled.

   "Tell me more about yourself, Billy Hargrove." Evie cocked her head at a dewy spiderweb. "Favorite fruit? Favorite insect? Are you fonder of chocolates or-?"

   "You think I'm interesting." He decided.

   "I think you're here with me." Evie curled around a steel post to see him.

   "Tangerines," Billy replied after a beat, "and favorite bug? Do scarab beetles count? Just think they look cool as shit."

   "Naturally. Good choice, I suppose." She sized him up and tapped her chin when Billy gestured across the way. Neither moving. "Pineapple and luna moths."

   "Luna moths?"

   "Yeah," Evie hummed to herself and hid away behind the beam, "I always thought they looked like they were fluttering straight out of our dreams. Don't you?"

   Billy took one step. Really watched her shift in ethereal lights. Luminous and bathed utterly.

   "Evangeline." He mused as she teetered across a board and came to the edge. Eyes on the water far below. "Why a singer?"

   "Hm?" She faced away from him. Seemingly in a dream herself. Billy imagined moths glowing around her pretty hair. Fluttering to follow her into the dark. He wished she'd extend a hand to him so he could join. Follow her right into it.

   "Why do you want to be a singer?"

   "Always liked it. Growing up, I just felt right, I guess. The most like me. This girl I wanted to be and she's on a stage under too many lights. Singing her heart out to miles of crowds. Touching them all in a way. Connecting." Evie trailed her fingers over chains that hung down, clicked them together like wind chimes. Billy edged up after her. Not getting too close. Wondered about what was ticking in Evie's soul.

   "Nice to be heard when you put music out into the world," Billy observed and she seemed to like that. Curls bouncing softer with her voice. Evie unfurled for him there and she was breathtaking.

   “I wanna write music that lifts people so high, they’ll have to look down to see heaven." Evie gasped gently, heart-soaring while she came to the other edge on the opposite side. Almost leaning too far.

   "Yeah?" He felt her tug tender cords in his soul. Didn't take his eyes away.

   "I want to write something that makes others understand they’re not alone. Not small. You know? One great song before I...” Evie trailed off with a sober sort of melodic call beckoning and looked far below to the great fall that was one stumble away. One step. Fingers opened. Her arms lifted enough to drop the blanket behind her and feel the wind. “You think I can write a song powerful enough to help me fly over this bridge, Billy?”

   One hand lifted higher, lips open and unable to stop. Unable to look away from the edge. Steady as can be, Billy slid his palm against her. Skin awakening. Reminded her that she was here. That he was with her. That they weren't alone and the song was alive. Fingers laced and Evie seemed to reel back to him, brown eyes glinting to see his face there. Freckles all glowy. Curls spun of gold shifting just right.

   "You're beautiful." She observed there.

   Billy surely would have followed her to the edge, but he didn't want her to go. Stay.

   "You're strange." He'd found this sentiment before and it sounded all the more lovely tonight. Billy gently pulled her from the edge. “Come here, Angel, warm me up.” 

   Billy draped himself in the other blanket again. Shifted her under it as if it were a cape. A shroud that would keep them both from harm's way. From the edge.

   “Okay, Dracula, easy.” She stumbled into him. The diamond lines of Billy’s chest cut into her. “Wait, you feel that?” She watched his earring shift while he looked around. “The vibration.”

   “Yeah, I do.” He muttered suggestively.

   “Not that kind. Just listen. Feel it.” Evie stepped out, almost giddy as she plucked her blanket up and felt around. Billy welcomed it in his chest. The smooth vibrations generating from above. “Get ready.”

   “Ready?” He laughed, coming toward her again. Billy stepped into her space as Evie reached back to curl her fingers into his leather jacket.  Head tilted up toward the tracks. 

   “Lie down with me.” She began to tug and Billy felt this drunkenness take him over at Evie and her smile brightening. They reclined together wrapped in blankets and Billy realized it as the horns called over Evie’s wild laughter.

   “You’re full of surprises, Fenny.”

   “It helps to scream it out, whatever you want. Just let it go with the train.” She kept snickering as the bridge really began to shake. Billy watched her face. Alight and wild. Red lips against the moonlight pooling to spill over her and illuminate the glitter in her makeup.

   “You’re beautiful.” He said then. Unsure if she really heard him over the howl of the oncoming cars. 

   Billy laughed with her. The roar of a train began to charge above. Blaring horns and steel wheels cranking fast. Her nose crinkled as the windswept their hair. Lips opening to scream with it. Billy couldn’t help joining her. Both of them calling out against the rumbling that never seemed to end.

   Icicles fell around the edges and reminded Billy of confetti. Falling so slow and sweet to decorate the space. Shattering colors. That night he first danced with her and kissed her long and hard. Spinning round and round.

   Evie pulled herself up and climbed higher into the beams. Head tossed back to give a call like a siren.

   “Fuck you!” She saw Billy stand and peered at him. “Keep yelling! Anything you want at anyone! Really let ‘em have it!”

   “You first!”

   “You left mom and me, you selfish fucking prick!” She raged up into the air for her father that wasn’t around. Hair whirling up into the gust of wind. The train took her syllables with it. Shouting back. "You can't just make people and then abandon them! They'll think they did something wrong forever!" Billy felt his chest tighten. Joined her. Heart bursting.

   “Why didn’t you just let me fucking save you! Why wasn't I enough!” He didn’t yell for Neil who beat him senseless. Perched upon steel Evie saw Billy tense. Burst again. “I hate you!” He cried that. Evie's fingers pressed harder into steel. Lost in him. Billy heaved for fresher air. Having never faced it all.

   The train ended as they stared at each other. Both breathing into the frozen air. Heaving to gasp.

   Evie slipped down and tossed her arms around Billy’s shoulders. Kissed him back into cold steel as if she was trying to comfort him. Kiss him all better. Luna moths landing delicately on their bodies to open and close their lovely wings.

   "Why'd you do that?" Billy asked of her for the first time. Evie beamed at the turn in the phrase.

   "Because at that time, you weren't going to." She brought him back in. Wanting more. Cupping his face. “Feel any better?” Evie drew out, leaving him to look fluttered. Unsure, Billy swept in so he didn’t have to reply yet. Miles of kisses hot like the cherry of his smoke he let tumble below.

   “Felt good.” He murmured, pulling her into him. “If anything.” 

   “You can’t tell anyone about this place. It’s my secret. Our secret.” She pecked his lips and Billy drew out because they both were too cold to continue. The heat in her belly wasn’t enough. 

   He tilted his forehead against hers, lulled forth when her weight shifted back and the loss. The loss of her ached Billy down to his marrow. This almost paradise they constructed together.

   Curls fell into his face before he lifted to glimpse Evie once more. Wondered how she’d look swaying with lush moonbeams in her hair always. Pretty goddess draped in starlight. Painted in pearly shimmers. 

   Enough to take his breath, Billy gasped for it back and gave this distant chuckle. Nodded to promise he wouldn't tell a soul. Evie caught him wincing as her hand moved over his shoulder again so she left him completely.

   “Sorry.”

   “It’s nothing.” He turned to go, eyes elsewhere. Anywhere else they could dart. Not on her. “Let’s just head back.” Billy felt like he was in a dream. Spinning and dizzy all the way back to the car. He realized as the locks clicked that Evie had been speaking.

   “Are you alright?” She swallowed and Billy looked at the car keys in his hand. Little scorpion keychain glinting. “Were you talking to your mom back there?”

   “Yeah. I just…” Billy shook his head and turned the engine on. “I don’t know where it came from.”

   “I thought it’d be Neil.”

   “I guess I can’t even stomach dreaming of him.” He replied. “I know it’s not a dream if he’s there. Even if he’s getting his. You know?”

   “Yeah. I, uh… Do you…?” Evie squirmed in her seat, worried he’d close up on her as he stared at the road and drove at a steady speed for once.

   “Do I, what?”

   “Hate her?”

   “No.” He skidded at a red light, almost sounded defensive. Shoulders fell. Knuckles went white on the wheel. “Sometimes.” Evie felt her cheeks burn and tried to sound even, it still came out as an airy whisper.

   “What happened to her, Billy?”

   “She just died.” He sighed to calm his own tone from sounding hot. “She died when I was fourteen.” Finally, he corrected himself. “She killed herself.”

   “I’m sorry.” Evie tried not to stare at him. Fear it made him uncomfortable quelled, but she couldn’t look away. Billy closed his eyes at the next red light to breathe, opened them.

   “It happens.” He said. “People wake up one morning and decide they don’t want to wake up ever again...and they act on it. And they succeed.” It felt like he started to drive slower the closer they got to Cherry. “Doesn’t matter who they leave behind.”

   Evie carefully extended her hand over to touch his in his lap. Because it does fucking matter and it always will. The fingers on the wheel flexed and Billy didn’t tear away.

   “She had a lot of problems. Like my dad. Maybe they tried to fix each other once. I don’t know.” Billy continued. Too tender about it all. “They divorced when I was nine. All the back in forth. The visitations. Courtrooms making me choose and I just...I wanted her. I wanted it to stop too. I know she was messed up, but she tried to get better… You believe me, don’t you?” 

   His blue eyes glistened. Jaw tensing. Billy pulled up between their houses and neither moved as he cut the engine.

   “Yes, I believe you.” Evie found the syllables around her tongue.

   “You believe people can get better, Evie?”

   She almost welled with him. It struck her heart with lightning.

   “I really hope so.” She had to or she was lost just as well. Evie sniffled and tried to be stone again when all the emotion came into her voice to cloud it.

   “She never hit me though. Dad drank and beat the shit out of her. Made her drug habits worse and worse. Liked when she was some coked-out zombie. Pills and needles, it just… Fuck, Evie, she just kept falling back. They fought for custody the whole time and I really thought she was getting better. Dad acted like a fucking hero, rescuing me from an evil druggie.”

   “You’re worth getting better for.” Evie felt Billy slip from her hand so he could clear his throat and rub his eyes.

   “I found her, you know?” He shuddered and stared at his open palms in his lap. Saw red on them. “It was her weekend and I took the bus home from school like I always did. We were going to go to the boardwalk.”

   His head tipped back and he gave this grim smile. They never made it to that boardwalk, Evie realized. 

   “The smell of that house, I’ll never… Just rotten...and I couldn’t even see her face at first because of all the flies.” It was Billy who reached out aimlessly for Evie’s wrist. Something to stay rooted, she figured. “My mom was beautiful and she always smelled like oranges. Like the big orchard she worked at. But, the fucking house just smelled like shit and piss and vomit and rust when I came in. Like death. I found her in the bathtub all bloated and ugly and the water was already brown. She sat in there alone decaying and no one...”

   Billy kept rubbing his eyes again until they were too swollen to cry. Evie had his hand in both of hers, clamped tight to keep him alert. Unwavering.

   “I didn’t know what to do so I called for help. I couldn’t lift her out, I wasn’t strong enough and I kept screaming...  Then, I tried my dad three times, and...fuck, I ended up calling Susan. They’d started dating a couple of months before and I didn’t like her. Or her kid. But, she was too nice and gave me a number to call if I needed her after they’d gotten serious. I don’t know why I kept it in my backpack. She came when they were loading my mom up. Kept trying to hold me and I wouldn’t let her until I was too weak to fight it.”

   “She does care about you. She’s scared, too.”

   “My dad cleans up his act well from time to time. Plays the perfect father and boyfriend, she fell for it. In too deep now with no way out. He'll bleed her dry, too. My dad, he likes it when people don’t have a way out. Mom found a way though, spite him.” Billy dropped his head back again, chest sinking before he looked at Evie. Quivered there. “I just get...so mad.”

   “I know.” She sank into the seat a little to watch him.

   “She left a note that said sorry. That she loved me. Left this for me, too.” Billy fingered his pendant. “Wasn’t enough. Sometimes, I walk into my own house now and that smell… I can’t escape it. I’m always in that house. In that room with the flies covering everything.”

   That shook Evie. They weren’t perfect kids, but they didn’t deserve to be trapped in that house. In that room. Where trauma was fed on a loop. A haunted house where they were the ghosts doomed and trapped to wander. To relive what killed them from the first.

   “I tried so fucking hard to make her better, I took care of her and I wasn’t there. I let my dad drive her to-”

   “Billy, it’s not your fault.” Evie had his hand pressed against her chest at that. “It’s not.” Both painfully sober, they just looked at each other. Leveled out. “I’m sure she tried so hard for you. Some people, they just… Addiction is…” 

   Evie felt this ice swell up her stomach. Addiction is a harsh cycle. It never really ends, you work at it and fight it, but it’s always there in the back of your memories urging. Once you start, you’re always an addict. Recovering or not. You can’t stop.

   You can’t stop.

   “Getting help is so hard when you’re sick.” Was all Evie could manage. Unable to portray how profoundly she understood. “Your job was to be a kid.”

   “All I wanted was to go back to California and now, I’m not sure if I ever can. Just knowing she won’t be there again. Sometimes when I’m here, I just pretend she’s alive and still picking oranges on long, hot days.” Billy swallowed. “My dad just...shut down for the first time when he showed up to get me from Susan’s. I asked him if he was gonna hug me. Susan had for a long time. And he just tensed and told me not to be soft. That I can’t act like a pussy and mom was just too fucking sick to get better. But, I knew she had a chance. I knew it was enough. I...” Billy’s voice cut over. He tried to gasp for some clear air so Evie pulled him over the seats into her arms.

   “You’re enough.” She said. Plain and simple. So easily.

   Billy vibrated in response.

   "Sometimes I think you navigate the world like something bad is coming for you and you're waiting for it, Evie," he muffled into her, "and I don't want you to go, too."

   "I won't go." Evie held steady, eyes flickering beyond him at dead space. "Promise."

   Hands came up like he might shove her off before Billy shattered. Melted into her heat. The soft slopes of flesh. Arms went under his so she could hold him close. Billy hitched a sob and stopped anything else that dared creep up his throat. Fingers wrung into her clothing. Evie let him squeeze her tight. Within inches of breath. Make her a balmy slice of paradise he could sink into.

   Billy closed his eyes. Face pressing into the line of her collar. Inhaling perfume and lotion. Flames bubbling up from her skin. 

   “Come to bed with me,” Evie’s lips touched his ear, “nothing funny. I just don’t want you to sleep alone tonight.” Billy felt himself relent, only nodded into her hair. 

   They snuck out under street lamps and went into the Fenny house. Cleaned up without words to dress down for bed. Blue wiggled in with them atop the pillows and Billy faced away.

   Evie wished she had something better to say, but she just told him goodnight. Gently murmured it against his spine as she tucked in behind him. 

   “Evie.” Billy shifted after a long beat. Turned over to face her there. Barely awake at that point, her eyes cracked.

   “Hm?”

   “Thanks.” Billy moved again on his back because it always seemed to get her nuzzling into his side. “What I told you. Don’t tell anyone else. Please.” Arm stretching so Evie could take her place and mumble something he didn’t catch, a nod followed. Nose pressing to the cotton tee he left on, Evie slipped away first. Left Billy to his thoughts as he watched the dim lights pull between the blinds and curtains to make patterns along her ceiling. 

   He knew he was consumed and he wasn’t sorry. Not one bit. Evie tumbled deeper into her dreams. Not stirring as fingers played with her curls. Petting them softly. Billy mulled over it all and he just wasn’t ashamed and he couldn’t figure out how to make her see it. But, he was willing to keep trying. Evie was worth trying for, too. Plain and simple. Sighing out, Billy let himself begin to slip too.

   “Anyone…” He couldn’t help uttering, almost melodic. Lashes fluttering. “...who knows what love is…” 

   Billy peered down at Evie’s face, peaceful and relaxed against his chest. Cheek pressing hot through the fabric as his fingertips ran a barely-there line down the silky skin.

   The rest of the lyrics never came. Tangled into his heartstrings where they made a cozy home.

   Billy immersed himself in burning amber, closed his eyes to follow Evie into absolute darkness. Almost paradise.

~~~~~~~

Thanks guys for being so lovely! This is probs my fav chapter to date. Leave words in my ask or replies if you have them! Love to hear from you all xoxo

TAGGED:: @80sbxtch​ @nottherightseason​ @orxhidshavana​   @alagalaska​ @alongcamedolly​ @kellyk-chan​ @10blurredsmoke10 @stanley--barber​ @charmed-asylum​ @unmistakablyunknown​

[bethdutten]

Loki leaves very expensive gifts without you knowing. Making you uncomfortable at first until he tells you what each of them mean when he confesses.

First, it was a bottle of wine. Red, French, the year 2001, and when you googled the brand with that vintage, a price in the five digits came up. 

Then it was a dress, beautifully made of gold silk, laying on your bed when you got home. When you tried it on, it was as if it was tailored perfectly for your body.

Then it was a necklace, gold and emerald, something you knew had to be more expensive than the wine and dress combined.

When the tickets to Spain were left on your dresser, you’d had enough.

“Okay, who the hell keeps leaving me overly expensive gifts?” You stomped into the dining room, eyes immediately glaring at Tony. “I’m gonna narrow it down to the billionaires, judging by that bottle of wine.”

Tony raised his hands in defence, wilting under the daggers Pepper was giving him. “What? No! I swear to god, I don’t even like wine.”

You frowned, carefully eyeing everyone at the table. Steve, Sam and Bruce were all pointedly looking at their dishes like it held the secrets to the universe, leading you to believe they probably knew exactly who left the gifts, but no one said a word. 

“Fine,” you snapped, folding your arms. “I’ll check the surveillance videos.” 

No one protested, so you left the tickets on the counter and made your way to Tony’s office. There were three monitors specifically set up for security, but after pouring over video after video, you came up with nothing. It was like one second, they just… appeared.

When you got back to your room, you almost had a heart attack when a figure moved out from the shadows of your window. 

“Loki! Don’t do that!”

“Sorry, darling,” Loki apologized, hesitantly moving towards you, his hands behind his back. He must have just came from Asgard, wearing his armour still. “I thought you would be here when I arrived.”

You sighed, flopping down on your bed and moving over for the god to take a seat beside you. “I’ve been searching the security footage for clues on whoever the hell thinks it’s okay to spend what is probably amounting to a million dollars on me at this point.”

Loki frowned, reaching out to carefully move a lock of hair out of your eyes. “You are… upset?”

“Yes!” you protested, sitting up on your elbows and staring at Loki. “I mean, you should see the dress this person gave me, I bet its worth hundreds of thousands–”

“You would be wrong,” Loki interrupted, looking back at you sheepishly. “I promise.”

You froze. “Wait… it was you?”

Loki practically blushed, glancing away from your eyes. “I probably should have left a note, but I wanted it to be a surprise. Thor said it would be… romantic.” He inwardly cringed as he said the word.

You paused, then a small smile took its place on your face. “It was a nice gesture, Loki, but– I mean, it’s a little much.”

Loki sighed, shifting to take your hand. You intertwined your fingers with his, biting your bottom lip and looking up at him. He looked nervous, for the first time since you’ve met him.

“Other than the tickets, I swear I never spent a penny. Not that I don’t think you are worth insurmountable sums on this realm, but I knew you would not be too fond of that method.” He met your eyes, licking his lips. “The wine was a gift given to me from Jane, with the instructions that I save it for you… for our first date.”

You felt yourself blush, nodding at him to continue. Loki gave you s smile, encouraged. 

“The dress was handmade by a seamstress in Asgard, specifically for you. I got the measurements from Natasha,” he explained, his thumb beginning to absentmindedly stroke along the back of your hand. “The necklace was a gift from my father to my mother… she wore it on their wedding night.”

You felt your heart swell, imagining Loki picking out all these things for you, so thoughtful and sweet. And this has been going on for weeks, he must have planned this for awhile.

Loki cleared his throat, carefully taking something out from a pocket in his jacket. It was the tickets. “And lastly… all of these items are meant to be used on our date, if you accept. Whenever I visited this planet, I always wanted to go to Spain, and, well– I would like to share that with you.”

You grinned as he picked up your hand and kissed it, before nodding. “Loki, I would love to. But honestly… you could have asked me to coffee at Starbucks and I would have said yes.”

Loki laughed, brushing a piece of hair off your shoulders, his fingers lingering on your skin. “But then I wouldn’t get to see you in that dress, now, would I?”

[jojo-at-his-computer]

Of course. I gotta say, this kinda makes me think of the song Pity Party, so I love it.

Josuke X Reader: Happy Birthday To You

It was a lovely morning in Morioh when you woke up, the smell of chocolate chip pancakes and bacon greeting you. You got up, washed your face, put on your favorite outfit, brushed your hair and went downstairs. Your dad was reading the newspaper while your Mom set your place at the table with your special breakfast.

"Happy birthday!" shouted Mom and Dad. You smiled. It was your 16th.

"Thank you guys!" you said sitting down to your meal, instantly drowning your pancakes in syrup and devouring them.

"Imagine that." said Dad in surprise "16! Almost a grown-up." He and Mom smiled proudly.

"Hurry up and eat, then we'll get the decorations put up." You beemed and you finished your breakfast, appetite invigorated.

As you went around the house putting up balloons and streamers in your favorite colors, your mind wandered. Your family had only moved to Morioh a few months ago. You ended up starting highschool in town as a first year, one of many new kids, and you ended up making a few new friends there. Your best friend was Josuke Higashikata, a classmate of yours. He was a pretty nice guy, though if someone were to make fun of his hair, he'd kick their ass. He had a unique pompadour haircut, and while you were a bit nervous to say so, you thought it was cute. You thought HE was cute. Okay just admit it, you were totally crushing on him, hard! You liked everything about him, his hair, his sapphire blue eyes, his smile, and on your first day of school, he saved you from a group of bullies that were trying to shove you into a locker. You've been wanting to confess your feelings to him, but you've been so nervous. You shook your head. Today's not the day to think about mushy stuff like that. Nope! Today's the day for celebration! It's your party and your day to shine!

After putting up the decorations, Mom told you to go ahead and relax in the living room for a few hours until the time that guests would arrive. You played some Mario for a bit, but after falling down and dying for the umpteenth time, you decided it'd be better to watch a few anime videotapes for the time being. But as you went to plug in the VCR, you heard Mom slam the phone in frustration.

"Just great!" shouted Mom. She shook her head and calmed her voice down to not upset you as much. "I'm sorry sweetie, but Grandpa is sick and can't make it, and I just got off the phone with your Aunt. She had an emergency meeting that's running late and had to cancel."

"Oh!" you said a bit surprised. "I'm sorry. That really sucks! I hope Grandpa gets better." You felt bad, but you also knew that your parents would try to get them together again and you all would get to do something special altogether, like a movie or dinner at a restaurant.

"I'll tell Grandpa you said that." said Mom. "It's about time for your friends to start arriving, why not wait in the sunroom to greet them." You glanced at the clock, about 5 til 4 pm, realizing she was right.

"Okay" you answered. You grabbed a copy of Shonen Jump to read as you awaited your friends arrival. 10 minutes, no one yet. That's okay, it's only 5 after 4. 30 minutes went by. Huh that's weird, but they must be running late. 45 minutes now. You start getting a little worried. An hour. You ended up finishing your Shonen Jump magazine. Out of fear and anger, you start pacing the floor in front of the door. Tears start to well up under your eyes. It's 5:15, more than an hour and no one shown up! Without giving it a 2nd thought, you cross to the phone in the kitchen. Mom asked you a question, but you ignored her, all you could think about was knowing why the hell you got stood up at your own party.

You dial Josuke's number at rapid fire speed, hearing the dial tone indicating the phone was ringing. You heard the gentle click as Josuke answered on the other end.

"Moshi moshi, this is Higashikata!" answered Josuke. You couldn't help but feel an odd sense of joy hearing his gentle voice, followed by anger and hurt that he wasn't at your party.

"Where were you!" you said suddenly shouting. Josuke was taken aback.

"(Name) is that you?" asked Josuke. "Where we supposed to hang out or something today? What's wrong?" All of the sudden you couldn't take it anymore and tears burst from you, not being able to hold it in anymore.

"I can't believe you didn't show up for my party!" you shouted "Nobody shown up, the party has been going on since four, and nobody came! Not even Grandpa or my aunt could make it!" you were heaving in-between sobs, shaking before you realized you heard Josuke ask something. You calmed down a bit before you asked him to repeat what he just said.

"Today's your birthday?" he asked.

"Yes of course it's my birthday! I sent you the -" you cut off when it clicked in your brain. You realized what might have happened, why nobody had shown up.

"You didn't get an invitation, did you?" you asked Josuke.

"I don't think so!" answered Josuke, "I wouldn't forget your party if I did."

"Oh my God!" you said feeling weak. "Of course! Something must have happened with the invitations! I'm so sorry. I should have known you'd make it. Well now the party is ruined and it's all my fault."

"Not yet!" answered Josuke. "Don't cancel the party yet. Give me about an hour, I promise."

"Okay." you answered, taking a deep breath. "I believe you, just get here as soon as you can." You hear the dial tone that the line is now dead. You breathed a sigh as you sat on the floor waiting. It was now 5:25. You waited some more. It was 5:55. You called Josuke's house again, but his mom picked up. However she did confirm that Josuke left awhile ago. You said thank you and hung up. At this point Mom looked in the front room where you were waiting.

"I'm sorry honey." she said hugging you. "It's been a couple hours, why don't you join us and we'll cut the cake."

"No mom, I know Josuke for sure is coming." You explained how you found out there was an apparent mailing mishap that prevented the invitations from reaching your friends. Mom shrugged.

"Okay." she said. "But if he doesn't show up before 7, we're cutting the cake without him."

"Deal" you said. You looked at the clock, it was now 6:15, nearly an hour since you spoke to him. Where could he be? Of course! He must be going to get me a present, you reasoned. No sooner you finished your thought, there's a knock at the door.

"Hello", you say as you answered the door. You opened it to find not only Josuke had arrived like he said he would, but he brought some friends with him too. There was Okuyasu and Koichi, two of your friends from school, and two people you didn't recognize, an old man with a white beard and glasses, and a man in his late 20's wearing a white hat that had "JO" on it. Everyone's arms were loaded with giftbags.

"Oh my gosh!" you gushed, "You guys made it! Josuke thank you for bringing everyone here." you said giving him a hug. "C'mon in guys." you motioned for everyone to come inside.

"Sorry we're late," said Josuke, "I called Koichi and Okuyasu, along with my, er, relatives, this is Joseph Joestar and Jotaro Kujo by the way." he said motioning to the old man and the man in white respectively. You remembered Josuke saying he had family members in town recently.

"Hello there," said Mr. Joestar.

"Hello," said Jotaro with a small smile.

"Nice to meet you. Thank you both for coming." you replied.

"We realized that we didn't have any presents." said Koichi.

"And we weren't sure what to get you." admitted Okuyasu.

"Yeah," said Josuke a bit embarrassed. "We kinda panicked and went to different stores. Sorry we didn't have time to wrap anything."

"That's okay!" you laughed. "You didn't have to get me all these presents. I'm happy to have you guys present! (God that's such a terrible pun lol) I'm so glad everyone's here." You led everyone to the kitchen, having the guests put their gifts on one of the tables. There was a whole table with pizzas and potato chips and soda pops, you told the guests to help themselves. You made conversation with your friends and Josuke's relatives as you enjoyed your pizza. Jotaro talked about his marine biology work he's been doing in town. Later you opened presents from your friends. After that, your parents brought out the cake, frosted with pastel buttercream and had 16 candles all aglow. Everyone sang Happy Birthday as you blew the candles, making your wish.

Shortly after the cake and ice cream, the guests started to leave. You said goodbye and thanked everyone for coming. Josuke decided to hang around a little bit before going home. The sun had set and it was nighttime. You and Josuke decided to sit in the backyard and look at the stars.

"I'm so sorry I yelled at you earlier," you said a bit embarrassed.

"Hey, don't worry about it." said Josuke. "I'm sorry I forgot your birthday. I probably should have called earlier, but I forgot, I've just had a lot on my mind lately." You nodded understandably. You couldn't exactly put your finger on it, but a lot of weird stuff was happening lately in town.

"Anyways," said Josuke, pulling out something from his jacket pocket, "I kinda lied. I had something special I've been wanting to give you. I got this awhile ago." It was a small rectangle shaped box. You opened it and inside was a gold medallion necklace with two gold charms, a heart and a peace sign, just like the gold pins he wears on his uniform.

"Oh my, this is beautiful!" you exclaimed. "I love it. Thank you!"

"I'm glad you love it!" said Josuke blushing a little. You sighed. Guess the time is now to tell him.

"So, I've been wanting to tell you for awhile. I've had a crush on you since I started school here. I think you're cute, I love your hair, and I ended up making friends here thanks to you, and I want to be more than friends, but I was so nervous to tell you because I'm afraid you wouldn't like me that way and then things would be awkward and - "

You were interrupted when Josuke suddenly gave you a quick kiss. Both of you blushed a bright red.

"I'm sorry." said Josuke blushing a bit. "I've been wanting to tell you too. That's why I got you the medallion."

"Thank you so much." you say happily. "Now that we're together, you want to see a movie or something this weekend?"

"That sounds great!" says Josuke. You put on the madallion necklace, smiling at Josuke.

"You look beautiful!" said Josuke smiling. You happened to look at your watch, it was about a quarter to 10.

"Oh crap! It's late! You got to get home!" you said in surprise.

"Oh God you're right!" said Josuke looking at the time. "Meet you at the movies this weekend?"

"Of course." you answered. You gave him a kiss goodbye and walked him to the front door. You waved goodbye as he left, then went to help Mom clean up and put away the party decorations. While it had a rocky start, it turned out to be an amazing party. You thought about the wish you made when you blew out the candles, it had come true. You wished to kiss Josuke.

[ohblackdiamond]

no change in the weather (peter/paul, nc-17)

“You’re gonna owe me the rest of your life for joining the band. Just like I’m gonna owe you the rest of my life for letting me in. Whether you like it or not, that’s the way it’s always gonna be.” During the Farewell Tour, Peter confronts Paul.

Notes: Credit to @collatxral-damage for input on the initial rough draft and the necklace; without it I don’t think this fic would’ve been completed.

“no change in the weather”

by Ruriruri

It’s wild when he lets it hit him, just how long he’s known Paul Stanley. More than half the bastard’s life. He was still Stanley Eisen when they met, legally, at least, but he’d never been that to Peter. He’d introduced himself in front of Hendrix’s old studio as Paul, stuck out his hand nervously and smiled, there with his long, curly hair and flower-printed tee and jeans. Peter remembered being disappointed, and then just resigned. Paul told him later he was twenty, but he looked younger. He looked like a kid. It had been ten times worse during his actual audition, when Gene and Paul both walked into the restaurant he played at wearing the exact same hippie outfits as before.

“You guys just stay in the back, all right?” Peter had gestured, unnecessarily, to the clientele in their immaculate suits and ties. “They think you’re fruits.”

They think you’re fags would have been more accurate, but he hadn’t wanted to blow his own audition with an insult. Paul and Gene both knew it, anyway. Gene had kind of nodded and Paul had followed him over to the corner of the restaurant. Peter had played the set and that was it; he was in. He was in the band of a part-time cabbie and a schoolteacher. A band that didn’t even have a name yet. Didn’t even have a lead guitarist yet.

In five months, they’d gotten the name and the lead guitarist. Another five or so and they had the record deal, and then they were on the road. And by that time, he’d spent a stupid amount of time with that kid. Eaten the sandwiches he’d brought back from the deli on the way to band practice. Listened to him bitch and fret on the phone and in person, share his dreams in weird, furtive little bursts, as though Paul was always counting on a dismissal before he even got the words out.

“I used to have this fantasy,” he’d confessed once, late at night, after a show, “when I was real young. Like, shit, maybe eight or nine, I dunno.”

“That’s kinda young for fantasies. You find a dirty magazine or something?” Peter had taken another gulp of beer and sat up in the bed across from Paul’s, squinting at his face in the dim lamplight. They’d shared a girl just after the show, a pretty brunette undergrad. Showered together after she left, fooled around in there a little too long. Gone from smacking each other with washcloths to real stupid stuff. Jacking each other off as the shower ran, high off the excitement of the concert and the girl. Once they’d stepped out of the bathroom, with all the evidence washed down the drain, Peter had thought he’d feel awful about it, but he hadn’t. He still felt good and high and—secure, oddly secure.

“Not a sex fantasy, pervert.” There hadn’t been a blowdryer in the hotel room, so Paul was lying in bed with a towel wrapped tight around his hair. Every so often, he’d rearrange it and try to twist out a little more of the water. “Anyway, I’d be in the schoolyard and sitting up in some chair and all my classmates would be down beneath me, calling me King Paul.”

“That’s pretty screwed-up,” Peter said after awhile, and Paul had glanced away. “Who do you think you are, Joseph out of the Bible? You want everyone who ever picked on you worshipping you?”

“I didn’t say they picked on me.”

“You didn’t have to.”

There’d probably been plenty to pick on, from what Peter could see. Paul had been a bit fat and still was a bit effeminate, and he had a lisp that he kept trying to get rid of but couldn’t. Not that it took much for grammar school kids to start tormenting. But most people got over it. Peter had, or thought he had. Up until that night, he’d thought his and Paul’s rockstar ambitions came from the same place. They didn’t.

It should’ve been more of a wedge between them than it managed to be. From then on, they kept sharing girls and kept fooling around every so often. They didn’t discuss it. It didn’t mean anything. Peter would do it with Ace, too—Ace was wilder, warmer about it, but Paul, for all his shyness, was more consistent. Just something that took the edge off, something that felt a little more real than dressing up in bondage gear to play the drums four days out of every week.

About a year later came the Hotter Than Hell photoshoot. Lydia sitting nearly naked in his lap, soft and flirting as he’d posed with her. Paul laying ten feet behind him on that king-sized bed, uncharacteristically soused, head lolling like a rose on too thin a stem, just about ready to break. Just about ready to pass out. There’d been a couple guys on the set, too. One of them had been watching Paul, tossing out catcalls Paul was too drunk to do more than laugh at. Peter had laughed, too, at first, until the guy started to head toward the bed between shots, until the come-ons got nastier. Paul was still laughing then, completely oblivious, guileless as a kid, half-dangling off the bed as he tried scooting over to offer the guy some room.

Peter hadn’t seen anything else, but he’d heard Gene stomping over. Heard the thump as he shoved the guy off the bed and onto the hard studio tile. Twenty minutes later and the shoot was over and Gene had locked Paul in his own car, like he thought the pervert was going to drag him out bodily, and that was that.

Peter had felt a little sick, thinking about it. Even back then. He hadn’t stopped it. Been too damn stupid to think it’d get any farther than a kiss or a grope, at best. Only Gene had recognized the danger for what it was.

Afterwards, half-sober at best, Peter had tried to ask him about it. Maybe even thank him for it. Gene had just shrugged.

“Paul’s fragile.”

“Tell me about it. I’ve only been living in the same room with him the entire year.”

“You don’t understand.” Something in Gene’s expression had curdled. His voice was lower; there was an edge to it Peter didn’t recognize. “Paul can’t—handle things.”

Peter hadn’t pushed for any more of an explanation, for once. The look on Gene’s face told him enough. Christ, he’d never thought Gene had ever handled anything more traumatizing from a woman than a venereal disease. Thought all his stupid bravado about the girls he’d laid was only because he’d never really gotten any until the band got big. He hadn’t thought there was any more to it than that. Hadn’t wanted there to be any more to it than that.

But even Hotter than Hell’s more than twenty years on. Twenty-six years on, now, and Gene’s still up to all the old bullshit there anyway. Fidelity never did matter to him when he had Cher, when he had Diana, and it doesn’t matter to him now that he’s got two kids by a Playboy Playmate he won’t even give his last name to. No Coop, but he’s still getting the roadies to pick out chicks for him during the show. Huge-titted blondes that weren’t even alive during KISS’ prime. It’s like Gene thinks there’s a fountain of youth in being desired. Like hell he really is desired now—he’s just a bedpost notch they can brag about to their girlfriends later. Same as he ever was. Same as any of them ever were.

But Gene isn’t the only one. Ace has some drugged-out girlfriend that’s there often enough; otherwise, he’s got a groupie or two that he finds himself. He’s got computers set up in his hotel room, probably cameras, too, as if he’s going for one more hedonistic thrill. Ace used to seem indestructible. Even five, six years ago, he seemed indestructible, like maybe the Jendell bullshit wasn’t bullshit and he’d keep on and on and on, bouncing back from every wasted night. He’s faltering now. He’s really faltering now.

Paul, well. Paul’s in bad shape from all the stage stunts he’s still stupidly pulling. Probably back to gulping down white cross before shows just like he used to in the seventies. But for all his come-ons and preening onstage, he isn’t even trying to pull the girls into bed anymore. Just stalks off to his hotel room alone after concerts, barricading himself in like fucking Greta Garbo.

Paul’s wife used to drop by sometimes. She hasn’t this entire tour, and fuck, Paul honestly seems to think Peter doesn’t know why.

Paul seems to think Peter doesn’t know a lot of things. Par for the fucking course. When Peter calls him out on it, about the tour profits, the contract renegotiations—Paul dismisses him out of hand as smoothly as he would a journalist trying to get an angle. Gene isn’t any better about it, but it hurts worse, coming from Paul. Maybe because he didn’t used to be half this slimy. Maybe because he used to care.

Maybe because Paul still has something like a hold on him. Materially, anyway. God knows he hasn’t touched the guy for anything more than a handclasp or hug for the cameras in years, for all Peter’s certain Paul still thinks he’s worth fooling around with. No. Paul had had sort of a fascination with crosses, one he’d obliquely apologize for (“I think they look cool, guess that makes me a pretty lousy Jew”), whether Gene was next to him or not. They’d traded off a couple times, worn each other’s jewelry. Not just for photoshoots, but for going out in general. Paul swapping out the gold Star of David necklace he occasionally wore for one of Peter’s smaller crosses. Never the crucifixes, only the crosses. At some point Peter had just given one to him, out of convenience. The only reason he remembers is because Paul tried to put it on immediately and got the chain stuck in his hair. Peter’d had to help him free it. Doesn’t matter. Some little eighteen-karat necklace from the days they’d both drop thousands a month just on their wardrobes. Paul probably doesn’t even have it anymore.

It’s just as well.

He catches a glimpse of Paul behind him in the hallway one afternoon around noon. Paul glances his way, speeds up, then they’re walking together in silence, passing a couple stiff-suited businessmen on the way to the elevator. Paul pushes the lobby button, then looks over at him again, finger still hovering over the panel. Peter shrugs.

“Same.”

“Oh.” Paul pauses, resting a foot against the side of the elevator, all the way up against the metal railing. Has to be uncomfortable just holding that position, but Paul doesn’t flinch or even wobble. It’s like he thinks Peter has a camera at the ready for a photoshoot ten years too late to attract anybody. “You hungry?”

With Gigi back home, he’s been taking half his own lunches alone in his hotel room, not wanting to spend the meal listening to Paul bitch or Gene hit on the waitresses. Not wanting to see Ace drink himself to oblivion. He starts to shrug again, but Paul’s expression, weird and a little strained, keeps an outright no at bay.

“Wanna stop somewhere with me?”

The elevator dings before Peter answers. He keeps staring at Paul as the elevator descends, looking for some sign of deception. That smarmy, satisfied look he couldn’t erase while he was busy screwing him and Ace over. He can’t find it. The bags under Paul’s eyes are worse than usual. Eyeliner’s on, probably concealer, too. It’s just his mouth, pursed and crooked, giving him away now. Paul’s not trying to pull one on him right now. He’s just sad as hell.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Where do you wanna go?”

“I don’t care.” And then, seeing Paul’s deflated look as they get off the elevator, “Maybe something light like sandwiches.”

“There’s a bistro down the block. Gene said it was pretty good.” Paul digs a pair of sunglasses out of his pants pocket and puts them on.

“You’re pickier than Gene.”

“I won’t send anything back. Promise.”

“Like I believe that.”

“No, really, I won’t. Well, maybe if it’s really awful, but…”

They pass up the front desk on their way out. The girl behind it offers a cheeky little wave and a giggle that can’t be part of the five-star hotel experience at all. Paul lifts his hand idly and offers a smile, and Peter does, too, both speeding up their pace so she won’t have time to ask for a picture.

Maybe a picture wouldn’t have been such a bad thing to stop for. No one comes up to them the entire walk to the bistro. Peter feels a couple of stares from passerby, but none of the old excitable murmurs, those are-you-sures and it’s-them-it’s-them-I-swear. No screaming, sobbing high school girls trying to grab Paul by the arm like they thought he’d run off with them if they just tugged hard enough. No bodyguards following them around to keep fans in check. All the old ego boosts are gone except for the roar of the concert crowd.

Paul holds the door open for him at the restaurant. They have to seat themselves, a piece of normalcy Peter feels like he should resent, but he doesn’t. Peter barely glances at the menu before ordering a Reuben sandwich, fries, and a Sprite, while Paul yanks off his sunglasses and deliberates for five minutes over whether to get a half-sandwich, half-soup combo or just the soup. He ends up getting the lobster bisque instead.

“That’s really all you’re eating?” Peter asks as he passes the menus back to the waitress. Paul shrugs.

“I’m not that hungry.”

“First time in a long time.”

“What, me not being hungry?”

“No. You having soup for lunch.”

“It’s a bisque, be specific—”

“Are you going to have candy for dinner, too? Like you used to?”

Paul winces.

“God, I’m not that sentimental.”

“The hell you’re not,” Peter says, and he means it harsher than it comes out; instead, the words sound almost warm, almost fond. He can’t manage to call Paul out on his own nostalgia trips with any real rancor when he’s putting on the old greasepaint, too. “You used to eat, what, two rolls of Life Savers before concerts—”

“And a bag of Satellite Wafers for nutrition.” Paul stirs the bisque before taking a swallow. His nose wrinkles as Peter watches, but true to his word, he doesn’t send it back or even start complaining, just reaches across the table to get the pepper shaker. “Or maybe because they were about five calories a wafer, who knows? You can’t even get them anymore.”

Peter shifts a little in his seat. The Reuben’s just okay, nothing great, but the fries are fresh and smothered in grease. There’s that oily sheen radiating off them unapologetically in the dim lighting of the bistro. Miles better than the five-star shit Paul raves about. If he’s not careful, he’ll finish them off in another five minutes.

“I never ate all the Life Savers. Gene always got the cherry ones.”

“Does he even like cherry?”

“He likes getting his tongue red.” Paul takes another few spoonfuls of the bisque. Peter expects him to continue, to start a stupid tirade against Gene—they’re not the big buddies they used to be right now, as if Peter cares—but there’s nothing.

Nothing except that worn-down look on Paul’s face and that emptiness in those too-big, too-sad brown eyes. The girls used to go crazy for them, just nuts, but Peter had only ever been reminded of a droopy-eyed beagle. Without the Starchild façade perking them up, the comparison’s more accurate than ever.

It should be satisfying, Paul having a hard time. Should really make Peter feel vindicated for the hell he’s been through over the last decade, to see Paul really struggling to pull himself together. It’s about time Paul struggled for anything. A guy like him, so fucking sensitive and vain, stupid enough to believe his own hype even now. Greedy and spiteful enough to be sucking him and Ace dry for daring to ever quit the band. Berating him during practice like he’s just a hired gun, like he’s Eric Carr or Singer, those poor bastards. Enjoying knocking him down peg after fucking peg. It ought to feel great knowing Paul’s sinking faster and harder than he ever did, knowing he’s trying to crush Peter’s ego out of his own flat-out misery.

But every time Peter looks at Paul, he doesn’t feel satisfied or pleased or any of that shit, just hollowed-out and edgy all at once. Like he should do something—which is fucking stupid. There’s nothing he’s ever been able to do for Paul. Not in twenty years at least. Paul doesn’t want anything from him, either, except a series of servile yeses and contract signatures and a drumming ability his destroyed arms can’t manage. Paul’s never wanted anything from him that Peter could offer up.

Peter’s tapping his fingers against the table before he realizes it. At first Peter doesn’t think Paul notices, either, until he feels his eyes on him.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.” A breath, then, quiet, abrupt—“You better go easier on yourself sometimes, Paul.”

“I can’t.”

“You should,” Peter says, insists, weirdly, and then he shoves the basket of fries towards Paul’s side of the table.

He’s not positive why he’s done it. He doubts Paul will do anything but push them back. Wouldn’t be the first time. Paul’s piss-poor relationship with food is just like everything else in his life, all about control and a desperate need for approval. He’d starve if he thought it’d make one more chick in the audience think he was attractive. Eat an entire cake if that same girl told him he looked good doing it. No real sense of self, just a still-pretty face Peter shouldn’t give a damn about anymore.

Paul’s expression shifts slightly. He doesn’t look quite as blatantly miserable there for a second, as he reaches out his hand—black nail polish chipped, knuckles ragged—and takes a fry from the basket. Hesitates, eats it carefully, like it’s something delicate—and then he puts a hand on the basket, about to push it aside.

“Paul, c’mon, it won’t kill you. Lose any more weight and you’re gonna need those suspenders.”

“Pete, I can’t—”

“Sure, you can,” and Peter reaches over and takes another fry, holding it up a few inches from Paul’s mouth.

To Paul’s credit, he doesn’t glance around the restaurant, or snap at Peter to cut that shit out. Maybe even he realizes nobody’s looking. His fingers curve on top of Peter’s—no wedding ring—and he leans in, tugging the fry out of Peter’s grasp with his teeth and tongue, and eats it. There’s the quick flick of Paul’s tongue against his skin, brief enough Peter almost wouldn’t have noticed if it weren’t for that glint in Paul’s eyes. That sudden eagerness. Just like he’s found an advantage to press. Just like one of their old impromptu photoshoots. The effect isn’t the same on a dozen different levels, but something too-familiar and raw coils up in Peter’s stomach anyway. He starts to move his hand down, but Paul catches his wrist before he can manage.

“You gonna give me another?”

“Quit fucking around, Paul.”

“I’m not fucking around.”

“You are. Knock it off.” Peter yanks his hand back. Paul lets him.

“I—” Paul falters. He looks a little hurt, bewildered, maybe, which is strange to watch. He almost looks like he’s about to apologize, which is even crazier, but then his lips purse tight and he snatches a sudden, awkward fistful of the fries. Then he pushes the basket back with his other hand.

They don’t talk much after that. Paul makes some halfhearted conversation about Gigi, asking when she’ll be back by. When Jenilee’ll be back by. Peter barely answers, just eats the rest of the Reuben as Paul finishes off the fries he took. The only real discussion they have is over the check.

“I’ve got it.”

“No, I’ve got it. I invited you out.” Paul’s already thumbing through his wallet. Peter catches a brief glimpse of the plastic-covered photos inside, and he’s vaguely surprised to see Evan and his niece Ericka in there instead of Starchild. Evidence of Paul’s basic humanity’s been just that lacking lately. Paul pulls out a twenty and a five, sticks them on top of the bill, and stands up. “You coming back to the hotel?”

“Got nowhere else to be.”

“Sure? We’ve got six hours before they want us at the stadium.”

Almost thirty years of knowing him, and Paul still doesn’t want to go anywhere alone. The guts that made him eager to sing to twenty thousand people a night, paired with an anxiety that crippled him out of being able to do basic fucking things like sit in a restaurant by himself. Probably still does. Probably exactly why he even invited Peter along.

“I’m still heading back. You go off if you want.”

“No, I’ll head back, too.” And it’s confirmed, no matter what Paul says next to justify it. Peter’s just another prop to stave off his own pitiful lonesomeness. “I mean, there’s nothing really here to see.”

---

The walk back from the bistro isn’t as quiet as the walk there. A couple passerby stop them for autographs and they pose for all of one photo before getting back inside the hotel. The attention perks them both up, briefly, especially Paul, and they’re talking again on the way to the elevator.

“That last girl was really looking at you, Pete.”

“She was looking at both of us, c’mon.”

“No, no, it was you, I could tell.” Paul starts to smile. “She said she had your solo album.”

“I had four of those,” but Peter can’t manage much rancor over it. It feels a little too good to be wanted, however briefly. The concert crowd, fickle as it is, rarely compares to a gushing fan out on the streets.

“I’m just saying, she didn’t say she had mine. You could’ve had a real easy opening.”

“Yeah, twenty years ago. C’mon, Paul, I’m done with the groupie shit. So’re you.”

Paul blinks, then inclines his head and pushes the button for the elevator.

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you?”

“I’m done with a lot,” Paul says shortly. For a second Peter almost wants to push it with him. Call him out on why Pam never comes around. Ask him if it’s the groupies from the last four years—or fuck, the last ten—or if it’s the escort services he used to patron on tour, or if it’s just too many years of breathing the same air as him that’s made her leave. It might be worth it after Paul’s stunt at the restaurant. It might really be worth it to see Paul’s expression crumple, except that’s not the crux of what’s bothering Peter, and it never has been.

“Done fucking me over?”

“What?”

That stupid doe-eyed look again. That twitch to Paul’s mouth as the elevator ascends like a ski lift.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“Peter, what’ve I done—”

The elevator dings and they get off, Paul still giving him that look like he really has no idea at all. Peter speeds up, trying to force Paul to pick up the pace.

“You’re cheating me. I sign whatever the hell you want me to sign after I get my lawyer on it, and every month I get a fucking check that doesn’t even match the terms in the contract. Now explain that one.”

“It’s based on ticket sales, Peter, I explained that.”

“You didn’t explain shit.”

“You wanna look at numbers? I’ll get out whatever paperwork you want. The Reunion Tour was a flash in the pan. We won’t ever make that kind of money again.”

“Oh, you’ll make it. You’ll run this show straight into the ground just to get one more nickel.” Peter exhales. “I can’t take this shit anymore. You guys are fucking me at every turn.”

Paul stops dead in his tracks. Looks him straight in the eye and takes his arm. Peter’s too surprised to flinch or pull back as Paul leans in, right in the middle of the hallway, and kisses him on the mouth.

He hasn’t kissed him in years. Years. Peter’s mouth might as well be a plank of wood for all he responds to the still-familiar pressure. There’s no warmth to it. Paul’s eyes are closed and his hand’s squeezing Peter’s arm, but there’s no warmth to it at all, no pleasure, no want, even, nothing but meanness. By the time Paul pulls away, there’s a sick, choked feeling somewhere in Peter’s throat, almost a shakiness as he yanks his arm back, and then Paul’s got the nerve to spin another lie.

“Peter, I swear on my kids, there’s nothing going on.”

“The hell there isn’t,” Peter manages, shoving Paul aside and walking straight back toward his hotel room.

“Pete—wait—”

Paul’s following him. Peter can hear those stupid, clipped steps of his against the carpet, one more unforeseen product of wearing six-inch heels for over a decade. But Peter just quickens his pace, tugs out his keycard midstride and shoves it into the slot, satisfaction seeping through him as he slams the door right in Paul’s face. He doesn’t even wait for Paul’s knock before throwing open the minibar door and getting out a bottle of champagne, one he doesn’t even end up drinking. The sight of the label makes him think of Ace and how many braincells the poor bastard’s fried with every drop fizzing down his throat. Ace’ll be mush onstage soon if he doesn’t quit, and Paul won’t care, and Gene won’t care, as long as he can shudder through the solos. They won’t care at all.

He thinks, crazily, about pouring every single bottle down the sink. Paul and Gene can pay for it. Put it on their ever-expanding tab. Paul’s upcoming divorce is already on it. A minibar full of booze ought to be the least of their concerns.

He doesn’t do it. He doesn’t do anything, just lays on the bed for over an hour before he hears a knock at all. Long enough he’s sure it’s a cleaning lady, and doesn’t check the peephole before opening the door. He regrets it as soon as he’s gotten the door those first few inches open. There’s Paul.

He almost shuts the door. God only knows why he doesn’t. God only knows why he walks into the hallway and closes the door behind him, except to get the satisfaction of making Paul take a few steps back.

“Pete, look, come over to my room, we can go over everything. Whatever documentation you want. If I don’t have it, Gene will. I want to be fair with you.”

“I don’t want to hear it, Paul.”

“You just might. C’mon.”

“No.” Peter pauses. “No, you get in here.”

“But all the paperwork—” Paul starts.

“I don’t care. You meet me on my terms or you won’t meet me at all.”

Paul  looks at him flatly. Disbelieving. As if Peter’s just throwing another fit for no good reason. As though Peter really is just a paranoid asshole, as though Paul’s some innocent angel. Peter’s pulse feels more like a battering ram pounding at his neck once Paul answers.

“It’s hotel rooms, Peter, what’s it matter to you?”

“You’ll do it or I’m cutting out. You can get Singer back and wave goodbye to half your fucking ticket sales.”

Paul starts to laugh.

“You can’t pull that shit anymore.”

“No, you can’t afford for me to pull that shit anymore.”

“The fuck do you expect, Peter? You expect me and Gene to just bend over backwards for your whiny ass? You think it’s ’73 again? You think you can threaten to quit whenever you want and—”

“No, I don’t think that. I know that. And I think a guy who’s about to get divorced might wanna hold onto every dime he—”

Paul grabs the door handle to Peter’s room. Yanks it, pointlessly. Peter tries not to snort as he pulls the card key out of his pocket and unlocks the door, tugging it open for Paul to come in first. He does, immediately shoving aside the phone and alarm clock from the nightstand to lean up against it. Peter just sits on the bed.

It’s plush in the suites. It has been ever since the Reunion tour four years back. Every hotel elegant to the point of being uncomfortable. Themed rooms—not tacky Vegas shit, either. Jacuzzis. Gene had told Peter at some point over dinner, a month or two ago, that it’d been Paul’s doing.

“He doesn’t think we’ll feel big in Ramada Inns,” he’d said, almost embarrassed. None of that interview-ready self-assurance. Weird as hell to see Gene acquiesce to any of Paul’s bullshit instead of brush it off.

“We didn’t need a ritzy hotel to feel big twenty years ago. We were big.”

Gene had shrugged.

“It’s perception. Maybe he’s right. Elvis wouldn’t have done a farewell tour and come back to a Motel 6.”

“Elvis had the dignity to keel over first,” Peter muttered, and Gene had laughed, and laughed hard, enough that he almost choked on a bite of one of the cookies he’d ordered for dessert. The conversation hadn’t eased Peter’s mind much, still certain at least half the star treatment was just another means to placate him and Ace while cheating them both. The other half was just feeding rotten egos.

The soft, yielding mattress might as well be concrete for how comfortable he feels sinking down onto it. Peter almost expects Paul to snap at him immediately, but at first, he’s just standing there against the nightstand, hands behind him, curling over the table’s edges.

“You got me in here. Congratulations. You going to rail me out over your contract? Complain about how fucking unfair it is that you’re not getting a quarter-share of everything? Go ahead. I’ve heard it the last four years, but go ahead. Maybe it’ll wear a little better now, who the fuck knows. What do you want, Peter? I’m all ears.”

“I just bet you are.”

“Fuck you.”

“You wanna know what I want?” Peter’s voice sounds weird even to him, close to throaty. Nerves all stretched out, taut and tight as piano wire. “I want a bandmate instead of a dictator. I want to share the stage with somebody I can stand to be around. But that ain’t happening. I guess I’d be better off asking for my quarter-share.”

“Don’t try to play me—”

“Then don’t you ever fucking kiss me again unless you mean it.”

Paul just stares at him. He looks almost as though he’s about to laugh, his mouth twitching up for a second or two, and then he shakes his head.

“That’s what this is about? Really? God forbid I get my mouth on you anymore. I guess once you’ve got a good Christian girl you’re done fucking Jews—”

“I haven’t fucked you in years.”

“Nah, you’ve just fucked me over.” Paul does laughs then, throatily. “You say I’m the one doing it when it’s been you the whole time. You and Ace and Gene. You all jumped ship the second you got tired of it. The second KISS wasn’t fun anymore.”

“I didn’t jump ship—”

“Decided you’d rather play house and do coke than play the fucking drums. Right before we were set to tour—but that’s fine. Doesn’t matter. Ace quits. We lose fifteen million. That’s fine. That doesn’t matter. Just me and Gene, right? Like you thought we always wanted, right?” Another laugh. “I didn’t ever want that.”

“You sure as hell gave off that impression.”

“I didn’t want it. I wanted a team, I wanted the four of us. I thought we were gonna be like the Beatles. Like they were in the movies. I really thought—I was a kid, I bought into it. I thought they really did stay all together in the same damn house and—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head. “I was so naïve, I…”

“A team stands up for each other. I don’t remember you doing a whole lot of that when Ezrin—”

“I’m not talking about Ezrin. I’m talking about the band. Or what was left of it.” Paul shifts against the nightstand, yanking a hand through his hair. “You think we were still living it up after you quit. I don’t know what the hell ever gave you that idea.”

“Must’ve been all those gold albums.”

“Yeah, all two of them.” Paul snorts. “Lucky we even got that many. Gene fucking off to Hollywood was the last straw. Left me holding the bag for everybody. Found out if I wanted a record made, I had to pull the whole damn thing together myself. Like the solo albums all over again, except nobody was in line begging to collaborate anymore. I got fucking front-row seats to watch KISS turn into the biggest joke in the industry. I had to beg on my hands and knees just to get the band on MTV. And meanwhile you still got your nice quarter-share of all my work. You got that for eight fucking years after you quit. Just right out there for you.” Paul takes a breath. His voice is starting to crack. “Then you’ve got the nerve to say you want anything out of me. You don’t deserve what you’re getting out of me.”

“You want me to feel sorry for you, Paul? Is that it?”

“Please, the only person you’ve ever felt sorry for in your whole life is yourself. I know you couldn’t give less of a shit.”

“That’s a lie. If I didn’t give a shit, I wouldn’t still be touring with you.”

Paul’s expression starts to twitch. Then it hardens back up right like it used to, when an insult cut a little too close, like every insult did, and his mouth tightened and he’d be sniping for the next half-hour. He starts to say something, but Peter cuts him off before he can.

“I wouldn’t tour with you, I wouldn’t eat with you, I wouldn’t even talk to you.” Peter exhales. “But I do. I owe it to you. And you owe me something, too.”

“Don’t act like you’re such a martyr for wanting a paycheck,” Paul snaps out. “What do I owe you for? ‘Beth’? You still get your royalties—”

“Not ‘Beth.’ It ain’t that simple.” Peter’s hands are sweaty against the covers. “You’re gonna owe me the rest of your life for joining the band, Paul. Just like I’m gonna owe you the rest of my life for letting me in. Whether you like it or not, that’s the way it’s always gonna be.”

“I don’t owe you a goddamn thing. I don’t—” Paul pushes forward from where he’s been leaning against the nightstand. His eyes are glassy, that strange, haunted look making every curve and jut of his face seem like it’s carved from alabaster. It’s only when Pete feels a tug on his sleeve that he realizes Paul’s reached out a hand. “Come with me and I’ll prove it to you. I-I’ll make sure.”

He shouldn’t get up. He shouldn’t follow him. It’s going to be another attempt at robbing him of what’s his. Paul’s going to use the time it takes to get there to get his bearings and then he’ll really lay in on him, cut him up with surgical precision. Peter’s never going to get the contract fixed. He’s never going to get the money he’s owed. He’s never going to get that flowerchild wannabe back again, that shy kid still propelled by a dream from when he was eight, that vulnerable, stupid kid who had to be protected. He’s gone now. He’s been gone for decades. Even the nightly stageshow’s just a parody of the Paul that Peter remembers.

But Peter does get up, and he does follow him. Not to some conference room like he expects. He doesn’t call up Gene or any lawyers or Doc. Paul just takes him four doors down to his hotel room, lets him in.

Inside, it’s the same bland opulence as in his own suite. The same “Welcome, KISS” banner from the hotel next to the full-length mirror. A made-up, empty bed. No printouts or laptops. Paul hasn’t gotten any business materials out at all. Paul heads straight for the vanity, pushing away a small stash of makeup and creams as Peter watches. It’s a second or two before Paul’s hand closes around a small velvet box, pops it open, and he pulls something out and pushes it into Peter’s palm.

“There. That’s all. You wanna renegotiate the contract, talk to Gene. I’ll tell him to give you whatever you want.”

“Paul—”

“I don’t owe you. I don’t owe you, all right?”

Paul’s not looking him in the face now. His eyes are on the vanity table. Slowly, Peter opens his palm and looks down, confirming what he already knew he’d been given, the metal hard and cold in his hand. It’s nothing special. Eighteen karat gold. No tarnishes. No scratches. It’s the cross necklace he’d given Paul more than twenty years ago.

All of a sudden, Peter can’t lift his gaze from his own hand. His eyes are burning, and he’s far too aware of every breath pushing through his lungs. The cross glints in his palm, dangling heavy as an oath from its chain, and he can’t seem to close his fingers back around it. Can barely seem to speak.

“This is yours.”

“It’s not. It’s yours. I’m giving it back.” Paul still isn’t facing him, still staring at the vanity counter, fingers curved on its edge. He isn’t even looking at his own reflection in the mirror. “Y-you can go on now. I’ll see you at soundcheck.”

“Paulie.”

Paul stiffens up. Peter doesn’t see him do it, but he can tell, something in the way he shifts. He won’t ever get another chance. He knows it. Peter tears his gaze away from the necklace, fingers closing around the cross, and he takes a breath and says his name again.

“Paulie.”

Peter swallows and steps behind him. Paul doesn’t react at first. Peter almost expects Paul to start snapping at him, or pop off with some acidic comment to make him leave. Peter takes the chain between his fingers, cross dangling, as he drapes it over Paul. No wild mop of curls to brush forward anymore. He hesitates, watching Paul’s expression in the mirror, waiting for a sign that he should pull away, but Paul doesn’t move or shake his head or anything. His eyes are a little watery, and he’s biting his lip, but the rest of his expression’s blank up until Peter’s fingers brush against his collar as he closes the clasp. Then his lip starts to twitch and he turns around, bracing one hand against the counter.

“Pete—”

“It’s yours.”

Paul looks stunned. He reaches up to the necklace like he can’t believe it’s there. There’s something painfully nostalgic about watching Paul fingering that cross, watching a real moment of surprise sweep across his features. Reminiscent enough to almost hurt.

Peter’s sick of hurting. Now he knows Paul is, too.

His hand finds Paul’s shoulder a moment later, only to shift over to cup his cheek as he leans in, thumb dragging across his jaw. Peter can still feel the tension even as Paul inclines his head to meet his lips. Paul’s mouth against his is timid at first, almost afraid, for all that he’d kissed him so hard in the hallway. Peter has to ease him into it at first, like the steps to a half-remembered dance, fingers roving gently down from Paul’s face to the back of his neck.

They never did talk about it back then. What they liked. Just went in blind and laughed off the screw-ups. Paul was always headstrong with the groupies, all too willing to initiate, but shyer with him. Peter’s going off what he remembers and what Paul’s responding to, trying to be gentle without coddling, fervent without overwhelming. Trying to impart some meaning, some reassurance. It’s been so long, Peter forgot what a delicate, frustrating balance it is with him.

He almost doesn’t think it’s paying off, for all that there’s less caution to Paul’s kisses now, the brief swipe of Paul’s tongue against his lips. Peter parts them on automatic and Paul’s there, tongue darting lightly at first, then a little more urgently. He breaks off the kiss for a breath, hands shifting to rest on Paul’s shoulders, only to feel Paul get his arm around his waist and pull him in close, until they’re flush against each other. Then Peter knows Paul’s getting his bearings again, though feeling the start of Paul’s hard-on against his thigh is plenty, and flattering, evidence enough.  It’s taking Peter longer to get there, but Paul seems determined, rocking against him steadily, groping and fondling his ass. Peter responds in turn, eager, pressing in hard, grinding their hips together, until Paul’s soft grunts turn into a groan.

“Pete, every time you do that, you’re knocking me against the vanity.”

Peter just grins.

“Then maybe we better move.” His grip tightens on Paul’s shoulders as he leads him towards the bed. Peter tries once to turn him around so his back’s facing the bed, but Paul doesn’t respond and so Peter doesn’t attempt it again, just lets Paul press him up to the bed, easing against him until he’s seated. Paul doesn’t seem half as nervous now, pushing kisses against Peter’s neck as his fingers work the button and zipper of his jeans, tugging them down just enough to free his cock.

“All this time and you’re still not wearing underwear.” Paul’s breath is warm against his neck, a hint of a laugh in his words.

“I wouldn’t even wear the cup, what makes you think I’d—nghh,” Peter trails off as Paul’s hand wraps around his dick. Twenty years and, unsurprisingly, Paul’s hardly out of practice at all, the steady rhythm of his fingers urging Peter to full hardness before long. But it’s Paul’s mouth driving him crazy, the way he’s leaning in, the hunger of each kiss. Peter returns it all eagerly, insistently, pressing tongue and teeth against the soft skin of Paul’s neck, not managing to stay there long enough to leave a real mark, while his hips push up with every pump of Paul’s hand, a hand that’s soon withdrawn. Peter’s about to complain when he realizes Paul’s sinking to his knees in front of him, rubbing his hands against his thighs. Peter puts his own hands on top of Paul’s, resting against his wrists.

“Paul, hey, you don’t have to—”

“I want to.” Paul’s hands shift beneath Peter’s, fingers rubbing circles along the seams of his jeans. “At least lemme get you worked up.”

“I’m pretty damn worked up as it is,” Peter retorts. Every second without some contact is making his arousal all the more distracting. Judging by the glint in Paul’s eyes, he knows it, too. Peter’s down; of course, he’s down. His uncertainty’s borne more out of concern for Paul’s comfort level than his own. If Paul’s pushing himself for the wrong reasons and they’re about to fuck each other up ten times worse. “You think you can handle it?”

Paul snorts.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific on where,” he says, and before Peter can respond with more than a laugh, Paul’s laving his tongue against his dick. Peter’s breath hitches, hands tightening around Paul’s wrists. Paul tugs meaningfully at his jeans, lets up for a second so Peter can pull them down further. They’re around his knees now, Paul roving his hands eagerly across his bare skin. Freshly shaven. The spandex costumes still won’t allow for anything less. “Either way, I got this. Don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

Paul starts in earnest, then. His mouth’s encircling his cock before too long, taking him in further and further, a hand closing over what he can’t fit inside his throat. The only performance Peter’s ever known Paul to stay quiet for, apart from those occasional soft hums, the vibration intense around his dick. He’s still adept as ever. It’s almost bewildering. It’s like the way he felt that first night when they all went backstage together and put the greasepaint back on again. How close it is. How much everything’s falling into place. Like the years are melting in front of him, time lapsing backwards if they’ll both just let it.

Peter closes his eyes briefly, his hands wandering from Paul’s wrists to his shoulders to finally his hair, fingers rubbing against his scalp. For all the time it took to get him here, Peter’s unraveling quickly, mumbling curses and groans, trying to resist the urge to move his hips as Paul’s throat constricts tight and wet around him. He’s starting to moan, watching Paul’s expression, simultaneously intense and dazed, and he has to force himself to tug his hair and get them both back to reality.

“If you wanna fuck today, you better stop now.”

There’s a pause, a lick to the underside of his cock, and then Paul slides his mouth off his dick with a wet pop.

“All right, all right,” he says after taking a few sharp breaths and clearing his throat, not bothering to wipe the spit from his face before standing up. Peter shoves his jeans the rest of the way down, kicking them to the floor, shifting to give Paul room to climb onto the bed. Onto him. Paul’s already stripping, peeling off his pants and boxers far too fast for it to be a show, to Peter’s relief. He’s watched enough of that over all their tours and even from the times they’d share girls. He’d never really done it for Peter. The only thing he's careful about is the necklace. Peter watches him carefully tuck it underneath his t-shirt just before tossing the shirt to the floor. Peter waits, expecting him to fumble with the clasp, but Paul doesn't, just heads to the bed, and Peter realizes, suddenly, warmly, that Paul's leaving it on.

They’re still showering together after the shows, the three of them, Gene still abstaining from the stupidest and longest-held of their concert rituals. The years haven’t been bad to Paul, but then, he hasn’t had quite as many. Hasn’t yet even hit fifty. Despite all the diets and workouts, Paul’s abdomen is softer when Peter runs a hand down his hairy chest, but that’s about the only appreciable difference. He doesn’t get a chance to pay too much attention. As soon as he’s helped Peter shuck off his own shirt, Paul’s all over him, none of the cautious hesitation from before, practically crawling into his lap. The cold metal of the necklace makes a shiver run down Peter’s spine when Paul presses his chest against his while he’s licking a long stripe against Peter’s neck, hard-on rubbing up against his stomach. Peter’s own erection is making him heady enough, half-afraid he’ll come from just their fooling around, but Paul’s almost desperate, hands everywhere his mouth isn’t. He’s toying with and sucking on Peter’s nipples the way he used to, leaving Peter panting, his dick aching painfully with every swipe of his tongue.

Paul only stops to rustle around in a drawer for the lube. At first Peter figures he’s overcompensating for earlier, but then he realizes that’s not it at all. Paul’s not trying to prove that old Lover persona right with the one person who’d never buy it. It’s just that every bit of contact, every touch of skin to skin is soothing and maddening all at once. It’s just that he’s longing, too.

Peter eases Paul onto his back after awhile, leaning over him, kissing him on the neck and cheek as he slicks himself up, starts to prep, Paul’s gaze on him feeling more intent than ever. He’d said he could handle it. God knows his mouth still could, the memory of it making Peter’s cock twitch anew, but he’s really not sure about the rest of him. Paul never complained about Peter’s dick being too much to take in the seventies, for what little that’s worth now. Paul grunts as Peter slips and crooks his fingers inside him, legs splayed, hips lifting up, urging him deeper. Peter feels the familiar, faint bite of short nails against his back, a sharp hiss of breath against his forehead as he keeps working Paul over, stretching him out further. He’s pleased that Paul’s moaning starts before Peter’s so much as rubbed his dick teasingly against his entrance.

“C’mon,” Paul urges, rocking up to meet thrusts Peter hasn’t even made yet. It’s flattering as hell, whether it’s for show or not. From the consternation in his expression, the sweat beading on his face and chest, Peter doesn’t think it is. He can’t argue with the plea, can’t tease further when he’s wanting it so badly himself. Before long, Peter’s entering him, slow at first, getting him accustomed. Erasing the separation between them. Trying to. Paul fidgets beneath him, a little quieter once Peter’s fully inside him—and maybe that’d worry Peter more, if he wasn’t starting to smile, if his fingers hadn’t gone from digging into Peter’s back to rubbing his shoulder in a warm, encouraging rhythm. But Peter can’t help but ask anyway.

“You’re okay, yeah?”

“Yeah.” A wry pause. “I mean, you could give me a hand here—"

Peter barely swallows a laugh, wrapping his hand around Paul’s dick, trying to time each thrust with the pump of his hand. The pace is inconsistent despite his best efforts, but Paul doesn’t seem to mind, cock already throbbing, precum long since dripping from the tip.

After all the desperation from earlier, it doesn’t take much for either of them. Peter’s breathing gets harder and harder, curses and groans bleeding back into Paul’s name as he feels his orgasm approaching. Paul beats him to it, but barely, spilling into his hand with a sharp cry and a shudder, hand going lax at his shoulder, dilated eyes sliding shut. That’s nearly all it takes for Peter. Sweat’s dripping from his face, his hair, onto Paul and the bedsheets both as he manages another thrust or two before coming inside him.

He practically collapses against Paul in the aftermath, and he doesn’t pull out straight away. Stupidly, he doesn’t really want to. He feels way too—whole, odd as that seems. This hasn’t buried everything. Twenty years of hurt can’t disappear in one afternoon. Not for either of them. But it’s a start. It’s a start. It’s like something’s coming back to him. Like someone’s coming back to him. Like he understands now, that maybe things are finally going to be all right between them, maybe even great, maybe even grand. He could believe that now. He really could. All the more with Paul’s arms clasped tight around him as he murmurs quietly in the afterglow, the rise and fall of his chest against Peter’s the best tempo he’s felt in years.

[witchqueenofthemoon]

BODY AND SOUL Part 16 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: OKAY DUCKENZIES. This part dragged my ass. It took forever, but once again, I’m so happy with it. My schedule has been punishing. I can’t stop writing and never feel like doing anything else but I have a full time job and my relationship and all this other shit in my life and I have to sleep sometimes and I’m trying to find a balance. But I’m so happy lately? I’m so lit all the time, everyone I know IRL is like “what is UP with you” because I’m writing a book (this, this is the book) and I’m fucking beside myself, I’m so relieved about it, I’m so happy about it all the time but I’m also having a hard time disconnecting from it to plug into other things lately. Still working out how to do that. The thought Kenzie has about Duncan in the beginning of this part (”...you are exalted in my eyes and my body and my soul”) is literally a thought she had about him in another life, and she will never know that. Plume has a really fancy three-course menu that I didn’t feel like writing about at length, so I sort of chose one thing for each of them off it and skipped the rest. Here’s A SUNDAY KIND OF LOVE, imo one of the best love songs of all time. The man who got upstairs at Kenzie’s work and tried to hurt her will feature again. I listened to this remix of Imogen Heap’s Headlock a lot for the sex (69 dudes) in this part (sex which I am very proud of if I may say so, I can write a goddamn sex scene y’all--THREE SEX SCENES THANKS); cuz the mood in that is VERY sex-vibe Duckenzie. Duncan’s dream that Kenzie is an angel is based on @inkedbadwolfart‘s ICONIC Michael x Mallory piece. Deep Creek Lake is real but the cabin I’m creating that belongs to the Shepherd family is of my own invention. I’ve never liked “Dunc” as a nickname for Duncan and it doesn’t really fit Duckenzie, so I came up with another nickname I like more and Kenzie will indeed call him Dunny every now and then when she’s feeling particularly affectionate from here on out. This is the top Kenzie wears in the morning and this is the skirt (which I ordered the other day, can’t wait to get it!!). This is her star necklace. These are her pointed boots which she wore to Le Diplomate as well and I have them irl and they are legit my favorite shoes I own and always make me feel sexy hence them giving Kenzie that feeling too. Here’s the short-sleeved button-down Duncan puts on in the morning; summer clothes from here on out for awhile, babes. I had to put The Chain in this part; I’m a die-hard Fleetwood Mac/Stevie Nicks fan. A reminder that the MASTERPOST wants you to reblog it and pass it around because I won’t be loading the fic up on AO3 until it’s totally finished, which...I don’t know how long that’ll take? Maybe a few more weeks, maybe a month, maybe longer. Still not entirely sure where this story is ending, I figure I’ll know when I get there. The Shepherd mansion (that is, Annette’s mansion) is some kind of cross between this mansion and this one in my mind. The chairs in the dressing room look like this. To my beloved Duckenzies: @impiorumrequies, @hi-ilovedamien, @nat-de-lioncourt, @ladywriter94, @leiwya, @icouldrun, @killcort, @starscavengers, @carousallie, the list goes on--I love you more than words can express. THANK YOU.

“I would like for you, Mackenzie, to do a few interviews with us next week.” Kenzie refocused on Duncan’s mother; her thoughts had been full of Duncan’s eyes (sky and storm) since he had gazed at her so lovingly and pushed something into her; wrapped his love around me, like a blanket made of softest gold, that’s what it felt like, and I pushed it out of me and onto Annette and then her face fell and she looked so confused and then she softened...the anger in her eyes towards me dissolved and now her eyes look the way I think they probably looked when she was a girl, a girl who wanted something else; wanted to be loved, wanted to love. A wave of affection for Duncan had crashed into Kenzie, and she couldn’t help but gaze over to him with fierce devotion; you are my Prince, most beloved to me, and you are exalted in my eyes and my body and my soul. The thought had fallen, soft as a sheer curtain, over her sight and her mind, as if it were something she’d read in a book somewhere and forgotten; and she had stared at him and flowers had bloomed in her thoughts to behold him; and the moment had extended, spread out far beyond itself, and she had felt the weight of time and the depth of his love for her again and she was lost in it for a little while.

“It’s important...that if you and Duncan are going to be...together...you understand your new responsibilities as a part of the public face of Shepherd Unlimited.” Annette spoke with a strange slowness, as if something was holding her back, and Kenzie couldn’t decide if it was the heavy energy that now hovered in the room (something that passed between Duncan and I, I don’t understand what it was, but it had some kind of power) or Annette’s own inability to say what she was truly thinking or feeling. Or her inability to accept the idea of them, truly together. Whatever the reason, Kenzie looked away from her; she found Annette terribly beautiful, but Duncan’s mother had a strange coldness that raised the hairs on Kenzie’s neck, drained the blood from her fingers. As Annette spoke, she seemed to gain momentum, falling back into her clipped cadence. “That will include making public appearances with us and coordinated communication with the press. I’m sure Duncan has mentioned this, but I expect you to come to the house tomorrow to do a fitting for the Gala. Everything has to be carefully planned, it’s the most important public event of the year for the organization. From now on, you’ll be expected to present yourself publicly with physical, verbal, and behavioral sophistication. Duncan himself has been a poor example of that lately.”

Kenzie looked back across the table to Duncan; his eyes betrayed none of his discomfort, but she felt his annoyance, drifting in dark colors: To hell with sophistication, keeping her safe is what I care about. If she isn’t happy, nothing else matters. His thoughts fell over her with fierce warmth; Kenzie felt as though she could drink them, swallow them, absorb them, feel them as though his fingers were all over her.

“Mackenzie, do you understand me?” Annette took another long drink from her wine glass, eyes hovering across the table at Kenzie.

“I...yes, Annette. I think so.”

“That article published today was an opposition to the company. I expect you to turn down editorials of that nature in the future.”

Kenzie was silent, pressing her lips together. No, I don’t think so. I’m going to write about what I feel strongly about. Or why write at all.

The waiter returned at that moment, mercifully, and Kenzie breathed a silent, internal sigh of relief. She had the distinct feeling that Annette not only did not tolerate being lied to, but that she was preternaturally skilled at sniffing out said lies; that she could pinpoint them with precision and yank them out of a person. Better to lapse into silence than to lie to her, I think. Annette ordered foie gras; Duncan ordered lobster. Kenzie looked down the menu, lost; she hadn’t even contemplated food under Annette’s steely gaze, and it seemed to be in a foreign language, suddenly.

“I think you’d love the risotto, Kenzie,” Duncan said to her gently. She nodded to him gratefully and said “I’ll have that.” Thanks baby. Affection washed over her again and he gave her a little smile. Baby, you’re doing so good. Just a little bit longer and we’ll be done. Soon, we can escape. Annette ordered another bottle of wine; the one she’d had on the table when they’d come in was already half empty. Duncan’s mother tipped it carefully into Kenzie’s wine glass, filling it about a third of the way, and pushed the stem closer to Kenzie, pointedly. Then, she poured another glass for Duncan.

“To the continued success of Shepherd Unlimited and our dynasty.” Annette raised her glass and nodded to both of them with stern expectation. Duncan raised his and nodded at Kenzie a little; she brought hers up with a timid hand and Annette clinked against it with a sharp tap. Kenzie drank a small sip of the wine; hope it isn’t poisoned, she thought wildly, watching Annette drink from her glass again, eyes skirting over to Duncan taking a deep gulp of his, as if he were terribly thirsty and it was water. Duncan looks so beautiful. But he always does. His hair fell over his forehead, perfect waves down the sides, falling behind his ears. The velvet blazer gave him an almost royal appearance; like his throne was sitting in some vast chamber somewhere, waiting for him. His straight nose and full lips were like a statue carved by a master sculptor; he seemed too lovely to her to be real, I don’t think I’ll ever stop thinking that, feeling that way, like he’d been molded from the first human clay and every piece of come after had been slightly less. He pressed one long hand against the side of the stubble at his cheek; I want to bury my fingers in that stubble, I want to breathe it deeply into my senses, impossibly intense blue eyes carefully switching between the two women sitting in front of him, warily at Annette, with aching affection at Kenzie, then back again.

“I am capable of putting my differences with Madeline aside if you can conduct yourself appropriately,” Annette spoke again. Her gaze slid between her son and Kenzie; she seemed to regard their obvious adoration with a mixture of disdain and incredulousness; she can see how much he loves me, and it’s upsetting her, Kenzie thought. Well, Annette, get fucking used to it.

“Do you think you can do that?”

Annette stared at her, hands around her wine glass, head cocked slightly, her eyes like dark pools. This woman is like a very dark well, Kenzie thought. And I don’t know how far down the bottom of the well is. I think it might be a very long well, and very, very dark. But she loves Duncan. I can tell. I don’t know if the love is the kind of love I know, the kind I feel for those I care for; her love is different, I think. But I do think, in his case, it’s real love, in her fashion.

“I’ll do my best, Annette.”

“Your best must be as close to perfect as you can possibly make it, dear. Or else you will not last long in our world. Steel your mind, Mackenzie. You no longer have the luxury of living anonymously. To be part of this family, however long that may be, you accept the scrutiny and criticism of the nation.”

Kenzie bit her lip, clutching her hands together in her lap. “I can handle it.”

Duncan’s eyes flickered over her, bright with intensely warm emotion. So brave, so brave, she heard him think. ....your strength around you like gold...oh, Kenzie…

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Annette replied, and Duncan said, immediately, “She can, Mom. She���s one of the bravest people I’ve ever known. She’s amazing.”

“You sound drunk already, Duncan,” Annette rolled her eyes, her expression annoyed.

“Today someone got up into her office and tried to attack her,” Duncan said, his tone going dark as he looked at his mother. “They said something about the Shepherds taking everything away from them, so they were going to take something away from the Shepherds. I hired her a bodyguard yesterday, thank god--he’s the only reason she wasn’t injured. Being thrown into our world can’t be easy, and yet she was the one who insisted we still come to dinner tonight, Mom. I was contemplating cancelling on you. Already Kenzie has proven she is more than capable of navigating this world and has the resolve it takes to weather whatever comes her way. And she deserves your respect.”

Annette was silent and looked down; there was a flicker over her features; “I didn’t know about that,” she said, carefully. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Mackenzie.”

“I’m okay,” Kenzie said, fighting to keep the trembling edge she felt out of her voice. The truth was she didn’t feel very okay at all; the incident at One Franklin Square had terrified her and Kenzie longed for nothing more than the dinner to be over and to be held in Duncan’s arms in the safety and quiet of their bed with the rain falling against the window. Sweet Fates, hurry us on to that place, through this storm, through this rain, through this difficulty, she thought, looking into his eyes, fighting the bubbling emotion that threatened her again, feeling crushed and laid bare by the beauty of his face and the love in his eyes. She wanted to tell him what had happened in her own words with her own mouth and then she wanted him to press his mouth with aching need into her body and tangle the black sheets into symbols of their passion and their love and their devotion and press his fingers into her mouth and against her throat and down between her legs, where they belong my love, where you belong, pressed against me. I want to be alone with you my love and I don’t want to be here anymore. But Kenzie knew that this was part of the test; the test of knowing if she could indeed suffer a lifetime of Annette Shepherd; if she could put her love before her exhaustion and help Duncan in this way. And so she said again, “I’m okay. I would do anything for Duncan. I will do anything.”

“God, but you do remind me of Madeline.” Annette shook her head, as if to clear away her disorientation.

Two waiters came in then with their dinner; Kenzie’s risotto was delicious, savory and sweet, and she sent warm, grateful thoughts across the table toward Duncan again; he smiled at her and she was struck with another ache to hold him, to touch him; she watched his fingers stretch out at the side of his salad fork, towards her; he tapped them a little every now and then, and she could feel his impatience, his restlessness, his aching need for her. She wondered if Annette garnered strange delight from keeping them apart like this, even across a table; Duncan’s mother seemed like the kind of person who never did anything on accident, everything, every movement and inflection and gesture, ever-calculated. She’s trying to exert her will over him, Kenzie thought. Show him that she still owns him even though he belongs to me now and his desires have changed and she wants to pretend like she can’t see it but she can and that’s what made her so disoriented. She didn’t expect to see love in his eyes when he looks at me, because she hasn’t seen it there before, not like this. But she saw it. And now she knows. Now, she can’t pretend it isn’t real, or that he’s infatuated, or what he feels is only lust. Even Annette can’t deny that Duncan Shepherd fucking loves me. He loves me. He loves me.

Kenzie couldn’t help it; she smiled at Annette, and Annette returned it, but very small, a smile that did not extend to her eyes. You think you’re going to be able to control me now, Kenzie thought. But you won’t be able to. Duncan is going to change your company. He’s going to change everything, and I’m going to help him. We’re going to take all of Shepherd Unlimited and we’re going to give its riches to people who need them and we’re going to create beautiful things and we’re going to help people and you won’t be able to stop us. I know it, deep in my bones. Kenzie turned her eyes to Duncan and he was watching her with intense concentration, a morsel of lobster paused in his fork in midair, halfway to his mouth; as if he had heard everything she’d been thinking and was struck with it, as if her could see her drawing him a map that was invisible to Annette even though she was sitting directly in front of them, and the luminous smile in his eyes filled her with a depth of glowing energy that felt like sunlight on her skin. Yes baby. Yes, we will.

-------

It was well past 10 when Annette finally released them; by then, Kenzie felt as though her body was in physical pain, such was the depth of her desire for Duncan to hold her. I thought yesterday had been long, she thought, but today was almost unbearable. Annette had insisted on discussing endless details of the most recent episode of Duncan’s show, and he answered her in clipped, short sentences. Every now and then she shot Kenzie a suspicious look and seemed to change the way she was about to say something; she thinks she can’t trust me, and she’s not necessarily wrong, Kenzie thought. Finally, Duncan had come around the table and helped her out of the seat on Annette’s left side; relief flooded her at the warm, smooth feeling of his large hand grasping around her fingers; “It’s time for us to go, Kenzie had a very long day today, Mom.” “I expect you at noon sharp, Mackenzie,” Annette had said, her eyes flashing at Kenzie with a dismissive shimmer; Duncan leaned forward and she inclined a sharp cheekbone for him to kiss. Then, Duncan pulled Kenzie out of the room with a pointed determination, leaving his mother there to her own devices; Kenzie followed behind him, dizziness washing over her in a wave as they stepped out of the cocoon of the secluded room and back into the warmer light of the restaurant, and then out to the polished foyer. She could hear the rain falling against the windows; Duncan had pulled out his phone with his other hand and was texting Samuel, then he looked at her with a terrible softness (those eyes, my love, those blue eyes) and tucked the phone back into the inner pocket of his velvet blazer, his fingers coming up to her cheek, their warmth sending a flutter of sensation down her skin.

“Baby, you did so fucking good,” he whispered down to her mouth, and Kenzie sighed at the sound of his voice, her body flooding with the relief of his touch. “God, I wanted to touch you so much, that was agony. You are so brave and I’m so proud of you, Kenzie--”

“I wanted to touch you too, baby, Duncan, I wanted to so much--” Kenzie pulled him down into her roughly by the lapels of his velvet jacket, his full lips crashing against hers with a deep heat, her hands going into his hair, those waves like fading autumn and Duncan’s hands fell down to the small of her back, pressing her tightly into him, the desperation in his touch filling her with coiled hunger, her hips grinding against his thighs. The doorman and the people at the reception desk nearby carefully ignored them; Kenzie felt grateful towards them. Four hours with Annette Shepherd unable to touch each other and I think we’ve earned this. Duncan’s phone sounded; “Come on, Samuel’s here,” he breathed into her and his breath was sweet with wine and the chocolate mousse they’d had for dessert and Kenzie heard the tiny moan that escaped from her lips as he pulled away from her, such was her need for him. “Come on baby,” Duncan said again, pulling her gently through the door, “let’s go home.”

In the shadowed backseat of the BMW Kenzie folded close against him, her shoes kicked off and her legs tucked under her; Duncan’s arm was around her and her head was in the crook of his chest, her face pressed into his smooth shirt, and Duncan was looking down at his phone; emails. “I messaged Ben today,” he murmured to her, softly, tucking his phone away, as Etta James floated towards them from the stereo again (I want a Sunday kind of love...a love to last past Saturday night...and I’d like to know...it’s more than love at first sight...), “I want you to sit in on the interview, baby, okay?” Kenzie smiled despite how tired she felt; “I’m sure Ben will love that.” “It doesn’t matter what he thinks of it, because I’m not doing it if you aren’t there.” Kenzie nodded; she looked at Duncan in the dappled color of the neon lights they passed and was struck again by how beautiful he was; feeling shy suddenly, her affection tumbling out of her, unable to be contained: “Duncan, you look so handsome right now.” He turned his head to her, smiling, and she saw the shyness in it; in him. “And you look so lovely, baby.” That he felt shy before her, too, made her heart clench. Kenzie pulled her phone out of the little clutch on the seat beside her; she opened the Instagram app on her phone as Duncan said “Baby, what are you doing...”

“I think it’s time we took a selfie together, baby,” she said, matter-of-factly. Kenzie lifted the phone above them and reversed the camera so it faced them; she looked up into it, her eyes bright and wide under her dark eyeshadow and carefully applied mascara, her head still tucked under Duncan’s arm, and he inclined his head down to her, pressing his nose gently against her hair, closing his eyes. Kenzie snapped a picture; Samuel had been driving through the glow of downtown still, and the lights had fallen over them in pink, blue and gold; over Duncan’s cheek and Kenzie’s forehead, giving the picture a haunting luminescence. Kenzie brought the picture up to her eyes--it stopped her heart, the peaceful expression on his profile, the glittering aspect of her gaze, the lights falling over them.

“We look so good together, baby--” Duncan whispered into her ear, and his lips fell into the small space below; Kenzie gasping at the sweetness of the sensation, “--you are so fucking beautiful.” Kenzie sighed into his lips, pressing closer to him as she typed: The longest day, the greatest love. She hit Share with a satisfied smile. “You always look fucking beautiful,” she argued, her voice soft. “No, you fucking do,” Duncan murmured as his lips fell down her neck, his fingers threading through her hair. “You do angel, you do…”

Kenzie was aching for him, her body pulsing with need, but she hadn’t really told him what had happened that day, and she longed to; the burden of it was pressing into her heart, and she felt as though the weight of it was crushing her. “Baby, I...wanted to tell you what happened today.” Duncan lifted his head up immediately, leaning back to look at her, his face serious. He looked over her shoulder; “We’re home, baby,” he said, and Kenzie glanced behind her to see Samuel had pulled up to the high-rise. Finally. Samuel handed the roses to Duncan carefully as they got out of the car; there were no paps anywhere, and the rain was stopping again, the thunder moving off far into the distance and a barely-there drizzle fading away, the sky finally clear. The moon had returned though it was again barely a sliver in the sky; it hung there over the building as Kenzie looked up at it, an omen of the new cycle that had begun in earnest now; my new life has begun, and my life of anonymity is gone, she thought, the echo of Annette’s words falling down. Duncan carried the flowers carefully beside her as they moved upstairs; Anchaly gave him a nod, then looked at Kenzie with a smile; “you look lovely, Miss Stone, I trust whatever was distressing you earlier has been taken care of,” and Kenzie smiled back at him, nodding. Anchaly had a new book now; it was The Year of Magical Thinking, by Joan Didion. “Yes, I’m better now, thanks, Anchaly.”

In the elevator they stared at each other, Duncan’s hands full of roses, Kenzie’s hand reaching out to tuck around his arm. “Before the man got upstairs, there had been some other people who had tried to get up, reporters from a magazine or something, I’m not really sure,” she started. “But the security downstairs caught them before they got to the elevators. The other guy was faster, I guess, and he didn’t really look like paparazzi--I don’t think he was.” The elevator slid open quietly and Kenzie used her key to open the penthouse door; Duncan continued to listen to her, quietly, as he opened the cupboard under the sink and brought out a Waterford vase for her roses, which had begun to wilt a little; fitting, because that’s how I feel too, Kenzie thought. Kenzie took the vase gently from his arms and brought it over to the coffee table alongside the low leather couch; the roses immediately threw their brilliant color against the juxtaposition of light and shadows there, one of the reading lamps switched on by the housekeepers. Kenzie looked down at them, emotion washing over her again. Then she turned to him and folded herself into him and Duncan kissed her hair and closed his eyes. “He had really wild eyes, I remember that. Like he was lost. But Harris had just gone to the bathroom...he was only away from me for a minute, I swear. The man comes up to my desk and he’s in a big overcoat and shaggy hair and he smelled...strange, sort of like gasoline. He grabbed my wrist with this terrible grip--” at that Kenzie looked down at her wrist and for the first time that day noticed a small purplish bruise that had begun to form there, Duncan reaching down delicately to examine it, bringing his lips down to her skin; “and he hisses into my face, looking right into my eyes. He said “There you are. I saw you on the videos. The Shepherds took everything away from me, so now I’m gonna take something away from the Shepherds.””

“God, baby.”

“He starts dragging me and Precious sees him but she’s too far away, she’s down at the other side of the office, and he’s so strong it feels like he’s going to snap my wrist and rip my hand out of my arm and I’m trying to get out of it but--but he’s just too fucking strong.” Kenzie felt tears in the back of her throat; she turned, pushing her hair to the side. “Unzip me, baby,” she said, and felt Duncan’s warm, long fingers between her shoulders, gently pulling the zipper down, his face pressing into her hair. Kenzie reached for his hand and then she pulled him, slowly, softly, into their bedroom (ours) and pushed the dress off her shoulders, stepping out of it, her hands coming up behind her to unclasp her bra and she could feel Duncan hovering there, close, but it was as if he was afraid to touch her. She turned and looked at him for a moment; he was still fully clothed and absolutely regal in his velvet blazer and she shivered, vulnerable; she pressed against him in just her panties now, his arms coming around the softness of her bare skin, and cradling her with his body, so much larger and so warm. “Harris comes out of the bathroom--” Kenzie continued, feeling able now that he was holding her again, “--and he sees this man pulling on me and I look at him and I scream help Harris help me and he goes up to this man and he hits him right in the throat under the chin with the flat of his hand and...the man just crumples like he’s made of paper.” Kenzie drifted her hands down the soft velvet of Duncan’s arms and turned her eyes up to him; his expression a dagger into her heart, his eyes dark with the memory of the fear she had seen there when he’d run out of the elevator and to her desk, his face white, his body shaking as she fell into his arms. “I just sort of stood there in shock for awhile, by the time I felt like I started breathing again I realized Harris was holding me up and my knees were buckling and he picked me up like I was a doll and set me in my desk chair and I just...I just burst into tears…”

“Oh Kenzie, oh, baby, oh no…” Duncan’s lips came down and kissed her eyelids, first one, then the other, his mouth came down and kissed the tip of her nose and then her cheeks, one at a time, and then her mouth, kissed her mouth with aching supplication and Kenzie thought that’s enough, I’m done and I don’t want to talk about it anymore tonight, I just want you to kiss me, kiss me everywhere, kiss me forever, and Kenzie whispered “Duncan,” into his mouth and she turned away from him to the lamp beside the bed and switched it off and they were bathed in darkness, the low light from the living room spilling through the doorway for a moment; “Shut the door, baby,” she whispered, and Duncan obeyed, turning and pressing it closed, and now they were in darkness entire, but for the low glow of the city somewhere far away through the window. “Your eyes look like gold,” he said to her, and he threw his blazer onto the floor (that’s right baby, abandon everything except for us) and moaned softly into her as her hands came up to unbutton his shirt, pulled his belt out with aching ease, unbuttoned his pants and pushed them away. “And yours look like blue fire,” she replied, up into his lips, pulling him down to her as she fell back onto the bed. He hovered above her and she could just see the outline of his hair over his eyes, the shape of his jaw, the shadow of his stubble, the soft shape of his lips, open and his stare falling down over her, and Kenzie loved the darkness because in that moment it felt like it was holding them, shielding them truly from the eyes of the world, creating a secret place where they could hide and all other thought could fade and only the two of them existed, in this place. His lips came down to her nipple and sucked with urgency, fingers coming around to push her breast into his mouth, and she shivered as his hair fell against her collarbone, a whisper of his love, and her hands went down his back, nails digging in and leaving red trails that were lost in the shadows, her legs coming around him, crossing at his back, pressing her sex up into his groin where she could feel the hardness of his cock through the two thin layers of fabric that covered them there. Duncan continued to suck, swirling his tongue over the hardness of her nipple again and again, then moved to the other breast and worked at it carefully, his free hand drifting down to the waistband of her panties and toying with it carefully in his thumb and index finger, pressing into her hip bone, but not moving them further down, not yet.

“I think my mother liked to try to keep us apart tonight,” he whispered against her between sucking on her, the tickle of his breath against the wetness he’d left on her making Kenzie’s eyes flutter. Duncan’s musky-wood smell was falling over her in the darkness and it made her heart beat wildly up into where his lips were devouring her, and she was dizzy with the strength of her senses, the presence of him in the absence of sight. “She wanted us to not be able to touch each other, but she failed, because I’m going to touch you everywhere now, I’m going to touch you until you’re written into my skin like a tattoo that can never be erased, I’m going to kiss you a thousand times, baby, kiss you until I’ve memorized every inch of you...”

Kenzie was murmuring before she even realized it herself; a low hum of yes, baby, yes, mhmm, yes, fuck, the feeling of his mouth on her in the darkness kindling a fire low in her body that made her want to writhe, and she was pulling his face up to her to taste him, breathlessly connected, and her hand fell down his ribs to his hip bone and into his briefs where she wrapped her fist around his cock--it was achingly hard, thrilling her again, sending a shiver down her body and he arched into her, moaning into her mouth as she pushed the fabric off him, cradling his ass in her hands for a moment, dragging her nails down to his thighs as she pushed the underwear off him and he said “Oh fuck, baby, that feels fucking good--” and then he yanked her panties down with one terribly strong hand and Kenzie’s heart stopped for a moment with the force of it, gasping as his index finger pressed harshly between her legs, into her clit, his mouth hovering over hers again; if she’d been standing her legs would have buckled instantly, instead, her legs keened back, lifting her sex up towards his hand, up so her ass fell against his thighs with a low slap, and she uttered another little moaning cry into him, her fist still clutching his erection and his hardness was sending currents of energy through her core, her cunt convulsing for a moment in anticipation. Duncan seemed to feel this current under his fingers flush against her; he let out a pitiful groan into her cheek, and she felt his cock convulse under her fingers.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he whispered, his blue eyes staring down into hers in the dark, penitent, devoted, and the outline of his expression in the deep shadows one of aching adulation, and it made Kenzie feel as though he was whispering a prayer into her, a prayer of worship, a prayer to her only and always, a priest to her, and a prayer so fervent it made him most beloved in her eyes. “I’ll do anything you want to you, I’ll let you do anything to me, fucking anything. Tell me, angel.”

“I want your lips on me and I want mine on you, baby, I wanna suck your gorgeous cock while you eat me,” Kenzie whispered, and she moved from underneath him, pushing his arms gently so he lifted away from her, following her carefully, completely supplicant to her direction; Kenzie pushed him down into the pillows now, his head falling into their softness, his long form stretched out underneath her, and she straddled him for a moment, staring down at him. Her eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness and she could still see that aching devotion falling down the beautiful contour of his face; he reminded her of a Renaissance painting, a man who also seemed unlike a man in that he was so radiantly graceful and sublime, a higher form of man, an ideal of the ecstasy of human imagining. How are you mine, she thought again, dumbstruck and shivering, and his hands came up to cup at her breasts, and she pressed a finger down between his lips and he sucked at her skin, her thumb grazing down his stubble. Kenzie moved back a little, moved until she felt the hardness of his cock brush up the sensitive, wet space between her legs; Duncan moaned into her finger, closing his eyes; those eyes, low blue flame, a constant candle lit for her and her alone.

“Am I your angel, baby,” Kenzie asked, her body thrilling at the feeling of his length flush against her pussy and ass, her cunt twinging again, the spasm of the muscles there sending a thrill of demanding need through her thighs. She let her sex press into him that way for a long, aching moment, knowing it must be as intense and terrible for him as it was for her, relishing the intensity, pressed against his need.

“Fuck, Kenzie, yes, you’re my angel, you are the only one,” he said into her fingers, and her hand fell down to clutch around his adam’s apple, desirous for more, a longer prayer, a deeper worship, a worship from his mouth into the core of her being, and she squeezed a little, her nails pressing into his skin, and he gasped. Kenzie’s mind filled with heat, her senses suddenly feeling like scalding water overflowing, and she raised her little palm and brought it down against his cheek with a snap, the little slap startling her ears and his eyes flashed at her in the dark and Kenzie said “Worship me with your mouth now, baby,” and he said “Yes, baby, come here,” and she knew he was commanding her--the slap and her hand at his throat seemed to have kindled an animalistic rush in him--and her need to be filled was bleeding into a need to do what he wanted now, and she was lost in the clash of her desires as he gripped her thighs and carefully pushed her down so he could turn her at the hips (god he’s so fucking strong, his hands could rip the life out of me, drag me down into oblivion, my Hades dragging me down with his beautiful, terrible hands, down into the depths to be devoured by him entirely devoured this way devoured in his aching lips), flipping her carefully but with an ease that made her heart jump into her throat; suddenly her back was facing him, her legs slipping down to straddle on either side of his chest under his arms, his cock pressing between her breasts now, and he yanked her up, demanding, to his face, so her cunt hovered just below his lips and his cock was brushing against her jaw; he pulled her into his mouth and Kenzie cried out, whimpering helplessly as his tongue immediately pressed into her clit, terribly warm and dripping wet, and her head fell and she drooled onto the head of his cock; she felt her eyes roll back into her head as he ate at her, and Kenzie steeled herself and opened her mouth and took his hard cock (fuck he’s fucking big when I look at him this way fuck he’s huge) into her and carefully pressed down, her tongue working against his length, and she felt him shuddering under her as his tongue probed into her soaking wet cunt and back to her clit again, focused there with a precise, deft rhythm; Kenzie opened her throat, willing herself not to gag as she took his whole length into her for a moment, then worked herself back up carefully. She could feel her thighs shuddering, the feeling of his mouth shattering her desire for control; it was bleeding out into a desire to give him terrible, transcendent pleasure--in this moment, Kenzie felt gold waves of emotion falling from the top of his head down into her body; I want you, only you, only you and always, always to be pressed into you this way, only to worship you, only to feel your mouth, only to feel you, you belong to me and I am yours entirely and there is nothing without you, there is void in your absence, that is all I know for certain, I wanna fuck you until I am lost in you and I become you and you are me and together we are something else, I wanna fuck you endlessly and so hard and so deeply and so often--

Kenzie moved her mouth up and down, working her hand at the base of his cock, her tongue swirling at the sensitive hole at the smooth head of his length; her saliva dripped down from her lips, down the shaft of him, and she moved her hand up and down and the sound of the wetness sucked in her ears as she moved her head again, faster for a moment and then with aching slowness, and Duncan moaned against her, against the swollen lips of her cunt, swollen with his attentions, swollen with terrible want. “Fuck baby, you taste so fucking good, god, your mouth feels so fucking good, fuck, I can’t--oh, fuck--Kenzie, fuck, baby, gonna--” Kenzie could hear the tremble under his words, the edge, and she dipped her head down further so the head of his cock pressed into the back of her throat and she felt his tongue lave out and press harshly into her clit, press there with wanton concentration as his hot come spurted into her mouth and she swallowed, once, twice, the taste of him salty and thick, her eyes going hazy as she felt the edge of her orgasm cresting down between her hips; she pulled back and up so she was sitting on his mouth, her ass at his nose, and pressed her hands into his torso, the taste of his come coating the inside of her mouth, and she looked up at the ceiling, dark with shadow, and his hands were on her thighs pressing her down onto him and Kenzie cried out as her orgasm forced itself roughly down through the center of her and bright flames burned behind her sight, filling the blackness of the room with intense light as she lost herself in his devoted prayer, the most ecstatic of prayers, his mouth and his tongue rushing every bit of her out into him in that moment, extending her helplessly into oblivious exaltation.

“Kenzie, baby, oh, baby, Kenzie--” Duncan’s hands were pulling her softly down, murmuring her name with aching softness, and Kenzie felt like she was coming back from a far distance to his arms; back from the brink of of edge of the universe, and she was sliding off him and she was beside him now, her head falling onto the pillow, hair falling across her cheek, close to his face, his arms clutching her with fervency, as if he couldn’t stand the sudden cease of the closeness of their orgasms; she pressed into him, her leg coming over his thigh, and he kissed her and the taste of her sex filled her own mouth as he did, and her tongue came against his and Kenzie thought I could die, I love him so, I could die right now and this would be enough for me, how can I bear this, how can I bear how much I love him, it’s so much, it fucking hurts, it aches.

“Duncan, I love you. I love you so much. I wish there were other words--”

“Shhh, baby. No. I know. I have to ask you something,” and his mouth was at her forehead, his hands threading her hair, his fingers pressing to the sides of her face; Kenzie could feel the weight of his cock, going soft, pressing into her stomach, and the thin film of sweat on his skin against her, and his eyes seemed almost white in this light, ethereal in post-coitus. “Do you feel like...sometimes...you can hear what I’m thinking? I know...I know it sounds crazy--”

“Yes, baby. Yes. I heard you tonight, I think, when we were with your mother--it’s not the first time, but I...I thought I heard you think that I was so brave, brave and that my strength was like gold, and, before that...you looked at me and it felt like you pushed something into me, you pushed you love and your faith into me and it spread around us--”

Duncan was nodding into her--“Yes,” he was whispering, “yes, baby, yes, I didn’t imagine it, yes, that happened, yes, you can hear me, you heard me, you felt it too,”--and she could feel the smile on him, though she could barely see it; his body felt as though it was smiling, a coiled joy in him as he pressed more deeply into her, his hands falling down her waist to clutch her hips into him and his hips ground against her and she sighed; a sigh that was more like a cry, and tears came instantly into her eyes, tears at the intensity of her orgasm and at the intensity of what had just passed between them; the realization that they had both experienced that energy tonight, that they had both heard each other’s thoughts, somehow, madly, impossibly, and yet somehow possible, and the wildness of this revelation stopped her heart; sweat broke out instantly on her skin and she was filled with terrible longing for him again, in a sharp wave that crashed into the center of her chest.

“How--” and Duncan was kissing her again, his mind falling into her and it felt like a thousand pinpricks of light that had burst into brilliance under his skin, in the lining of his soul; how, how, how, but the how suddenly meant nothing; the only thing that mattered was the understanding, the reality, the knowing, and Kenzie wondered if she willed it enough, if she wanted it, if she could hear him now--she focused on the feeling passing between them, the connection of their mouths pressed together, the salty sweetness of his skin, the musky smell of him that fell over her in bursts, the aching strength of him pressing into her, the soft cascade of his hair as she pushed her fingers through it, in the dark; I don’t need to see him with my eyes to see him, to truly see him, the low blue glow of him, the radiance of his beauty. I think I could see him, really see him, at the very end of time. I think I could pick him out of a million other souls and know him, instantly. And then she did hear him; heard the tenderness under every beat of it, and she felt lost in him, like he was pressing his lips onto the deepest, most secret part of her: Kenzie, I think I’ve always known you, I think we knew each other in some other time and in some other place, and I think we were together then, and I think it’s destiny that we found each other again, and I think no matter what happens someday we will find each other again, because that’s our Fate; that’s what they wove for us, when time began, they wove our souls together and it cannot be changed and we cannot be long parted from each other and we will always find each other again, because they will It--and their will is the way of things. You are my One, the only One, until the end of all things. Mackenzie. I love you. I love you. I love you…

Kenzie pressed into him, pulling him gently so he was on top of her now, their mouths still crashing against each other as these thoughts, his thoughts, and she knew they truly were this time, fell into her like a waterfall, like a rainstorm, and Kenzie’s hand came down to his cock again and slid up and down as he grew hard and she lifted her hips up onto his thighs and slid down onto him, her cunt slick with release, and they gasped into each other, his hands buried in the golden cascade of her hair and clutching her hip so she was pressed flush into him and this way, us together, it’s the only thing, she pushed the thought into him and she knew he didn’t need to speak, knew he heard her, his eyes staring into hers then closing, overwhelmed, and Duncan nodded into the bridge of her nose, his hair falling against her eyelashes, yes, the only thing, the only thing, to be here with you, beloved of all, most beloved, my love. He pressed into her, then out with aching slowness, then began to ride into her with a measured, building rhythm; his hand came down from her hair and Duncan brought his fingers up to his mouth to suck them carefully, not breaking the tide of his concentration as his length pressed into her with wild urgency, and brought them, slick with his spit, into her swollen clit, still, already, aching with wetness from his mouth; his other hand came up from her hip to press into the center of her chest, between her breasts, as if to hold her heart; as if to feel its luxuriant pounding through the tips of his fingers; his thighs pressed down into her, forcing her legs wide, and he was so hard Kenzie ached; ached with the knowledge of him. Their minds came together again, for a moment, from spinning around each other; the intensity, the intimacy of the touch--of our souls, she thought to him, and into her he pressed another thought--our bodies and our souls, Kenzie, for both of mine are yours.

“You’re gonna come,” she breathed into him, her mouth pressing into his nose, pressing against his eyes, which fluttered closed against her; “and I’m gonna come at the same time, okay, baby?” She arched up into his hand, the feeling of his fingers making her want to scream, making her hips grind up, making her want him inside her always.

“Okay, Kenzie, baby, okay…” Duncan’s eyes stared into her, needy, aching--and then he let out a little whine into her that seemed involuntary--a little cry that seemed to echo out from the center of his being, and Kenzie said “Shhh, baby, I know--” “Kenzie, how, I found you, somehow I found you, fuck me, I fucking found you--” “Fuck me, baby, fuck me,” Kenzie demanded, her eyes rolling back as the sensation of his fingers rushed her up to the edge, “Fuck me like that, fuck me hard like that, give me your hard cock, baby--” and Duncan pressed into her with such force that she felt the scream building at the back of her throat--”I’m going to--come--”

At that moment Kenzie felt herself slip down over the edge of her orgasm; felt it cascade up through her, from the ends of Duncan’s fingers deep up inside her where his cock was buried in her, and at the same time her cunt clenched down onto him with ravenous need and her scream, completely overcome and tinged with a sob, rattled out of her--and then she felt Duncan press his mouth into her neck to stifle the strangled scream that came from his own throat, and he came deep inside her and they clung to each other, convulsing, trembling, and Kenzie could feel the hot wetness of his tears falling into her hair and against her skin where his face was buried against her ear and she felt the sob of his body as her own hot tears coursed down her cheeks and her arms clutched around his back and her sex spasmed again and again against his length, sending dizzying shocks up her body. Kenzie brought her hand to his cheek and her heart spasmed painfully at the wetness there; in the darkness she could see the glowing white-blue of his eyes again, now overcome by his orgasm and the emotion that had fallen out of him with it--Duncan Shepherd, her prince, so soft and pliant and vulnerable in her arms, and she gathered his sweetness in this moment against her and knew she would remember it always; Kenzie knew that she would look back on his tears in her hair on this night; knew that if she ever doubted at all that he loved her, she would look back to this night, the tender color of him as he clung to her and know that he did; know that he always would, would because it was their destiny to love each other, through every shade of time.

------

Later, after their tears had dried, Kenzie lay against him with her head in that space under his arm; her space, and Duncan’s hand threaded through her hair behind her, lazily, absently, her leg crooked over his thigh, one of her hands on his belly with his hand hovering above, his pinky crooked against her thumb; they were silent, the only sounds coming from the faraway drift of the night outside, and Kenzie couldn’t hear any of his thoughts now; couldn’t perceive their shape, knew that they were hazy with the weight of his orgasms, hazy with tiredness, hazy with the depth of the emotion they had shared, and she felt sure hers were hazy in the same way, that he couldn’t see them; she was on Duncan’s side of the bed (somehow she knew this inherently; that she would always sleep on the other side, but tonight they hadn’t moved from the way they’d fallen post-coitus) and had switched on the lamp there, on the lowest setting; the bronze light fell over them as they stared up at the ceiling, and seeing him now, after the sensation of him bathed in darkness, struck her with wonder; to see you that way, and then this way.

“I think we can only hear thoughts when...when whatever is happening is really intense,” she murmured into his cheek, and Duncan sighed into her, closing his eyes; “I think you’re right,” he said, hand coming from her hair to hold her at the incline of her arm above the crook of her elbow, press her naked torso into his hip. “Kenzie, I can’t believe it...it’s so incredible…I never believed in anything like this before now. I never believed in things I couldn’t perceive with my own eyes. Now...I do believe. I believe in all of it, now. To be near you is to believe.”

“You think of me so tenderly,” Kenzie whispered, looking up at him. “It takes my breath away.”

Duncan’s eyes were still closed, as if he was afraid to look at her; “I love you so much, Kenzie. I don’t have words for it. It...scares me. But it’s the most amazing...the most moving thing I’ve ever felt...” Kenzie’s eyes fell over his wildly beautiful face; like this, he was like an aspect of the Pieta, or some aching divinity; to be loved by him shatters my soul into a thousand pieces, each one raw with sensitivity, each one alive with so much feeling I can barely stand it.

“I love you too, Duncan. Please tell me you felt it from me.”

He nodded; his eyes opened and they were shining with tears again. “I did. I do. And I heard those thoughts towards my mother from you, baby--I heard you--that we’ll help people and create beautiful things--and we will, I promise we will, I love you so.”

Kenzie sat up and pressed a kiss into him, and smiled; “Oh, Duncan.”

“With you beside me, Mackenzie, I promise we will make everything I have--everything we have--into something beautiful. Baby, I swear.” He brought her hand up to his mouth, kissing along her fingers, making low heat coil in her belly.

“Duncan, we can make so many people happy. As happy as this. As happy as we are,” she said, and then Kenzie suddenly pressed the tips of her fingers into Duncan’s torso, unable to keep her smile at bay, dancing them along his skin, all of her joy spilling out of her; a peal of laughter burst out of him and Duncan jerked to the side to get away from her tickles, and then he pulled her down onto him and rained kisses between her breasts and Kenzie thought more joy is coming and our love will make us brave and so bright and our love will bring light to others and she knew, in the deepest part of her soul, that it was true.

------

When Kenzie woke the sun was shining down onto the bed (it’s summer, she thought, we should go to the beach soon, I’d love that, kissing him in the sand with the blue ocean stretched out before us) and Duncan was (wonderfully, blessedly) still sleeping quietly beside her. They’d slept naked (like that first night, Kenzie’s thoughts drifted, sleepily, eyes roving over his saintly face, the delicate incline of his eyelashes, the pout of his lips, whatever dream she’d had instantly forgotten, that first night where my heart was shattered by you and you kissed my ankles and said god, you taste good and I fucked you wearing that necklace that had taken me so long to save the money for and when you woke you hovered over me again, desirous, and I knew it hadn’t been a dream, and I knew I’d be content to always be in your bed, a bed we’ve now made ours from our passion), and Kenzie could feel the delicate press of his fingers against her hip, their bodies turned towards each other, Duncan’s curls falling over the pillow. She pressed her toes into the incline of the top of his ankle, down his foot and up again, where she could feel the hairs on his smooth, long leg, and pressed toward him, hungry for his heat. Kenzie lifted her face up into Duncan’s neck, sending little kisses down from the incline of his jaw to his adam’s apple and the elegant fall of his collarbones; Duncan let out a little pliant sigh, his big hand coming up from her hip to clutch her against him, immediately needy; she marveled again at the way it seemed to cover so much of her body, wherever it touched her; she felt enveloped under his hands, cradled in his colossal embrace. Kenzie felt the hardness between his legs press between hers (fuck, he always has an erection in the morning, ugh, fuck me baby) and the musky smell of him fell through her (he smells like sex, like the woods after warm rain) and he said “Kenzie,” and she thought like a prayer, he says my name so lovingly, “what time is it, baby.”

“Only after 8.” The smell of him was making her dizzy, making her cunt pulse down towards where she felt his cock pressing to the inside of her thigh; Duncan’s eyes opened to stare at her, and Kenzie breathed out a little, wondering if she’d ever not feel frozen with the intensity of his gaze. “We can sleep for hours still if we want to, baby...”

Duncan kissed her gently, just once, sleep still clinging to his eyes; Kenzie brought her hand up to brush the bits of skin that had gathered at the corners of them away with one careful finger, admiring the hairs along his jaw and the straight fall of his nose, the dusting of tiny beauty marks along his left cheek. His eyes were open still, half-closed with the remnants of the sleep he’d just left; and he said “You were an angel in the dream I was having,” and his eyes fluttered, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, one of his hands coming up between her shoulder blades, one falling down to clutch, fingers spreading, over her ass cheek.

“Oh really. An angel, huh?” She pressed more kisses into his chest; into the bones of his shoulders, still marveling at his smell. Duncan was nodding into her, greedily; pressing her mouth up into his, his fingers tightening around her skin, speaking between their lips; “Yes. You had wings and a halo that looked like it was made of stars...of starlight. I was...I don’t know who I was. I was dark. I was something dark. And you put your arms around me and I was full of light and relief. Your touch was...healing. It healed me. You were divine, baby. You are divine.”

“You aren’t dark, Duncan. You aren’t.”

“Kenzie...I’ve done...there are things I’ve done that--”

“Shhhh. They don’t matter now. We’re together. You aren’t dark. You aren’t.”

His tongue was in her mouth and she was shifting up onto him in the soft morning light, on the incline of his hips against the trail of hair on his abdomen that led to his groin, pushing herself up from the center of his chest so the lips of her vulva were pressing down into the upper side of his morning wood, and he moaned into her; “I’m never gonna stop wanting to fuck you, Kenzie,” and she said “Good, baby, because you’re gonna fuck me again right now,” and she lifted her hips and pushed herself down onto his thick erection so she was straddling his thighs and Kenzie whined as he filled her, “god, baby, you’re so fucking hard,” and he groaned a little, as if trying to steel himself against the intensity of the sensation, and Kenzie put two fingers in her mouth and rolled them along her tongue; saliva dripped from them as she brought them out and pressed them against her clit and worked at herself, hard and immediate, as she rolled her hips on him, his shaft totally buried inside her so she could feel the knobbed surface of his balls against the bottom of her ass, feel him throb deep inside her, filling her so much she wondered if he’d tear her apart; it made her shudder and throw her head back, and she watched his eyes, hazy with sleep a moment ago, go wide and roll back as she rode his aching cock.

“We all have darkness in us--” Kenzie breathed down at him as she moved her hips and rubbed at her clit, building a tantric cadence with her body, “--but you have so much good and so much loveliness in you, baby, and it was there before we met, I know it--”; Duncan’s hands came up, one pressing to her breast and kneading at her nipple, hard now in her arousal, the other at the small of her back, his nails digging into her skin there, as if to chain her against him; “Don’t stop, baby, god you feel like fucking heaven, fuck me,” and his voice begged, she could hear the edge in it, the need; she smiled, and he gazed up at her, his expression rapturous; that beautiful face, that gorgeous face, like a God, like Hades to his beloved Persephone, like Dionysus beholding Ariadne, like Apollo, most fair, smitten with Daphne, or Eros folding Psyche into his arms: just for me, when he looks at me that way. It’s only for me, and I know it. I can feel it. That gaze is for me and me alone, for I am most beloved among all to him.

“Kenzie, angel,” he breathed, and she watched his eyes flutter with the wave of his release rising, the intensity of the softness and wetness and tightness between her legs; god I love to see him in the light, she thought, I want to stare at him all fucking day, I want to drink him like wine. Her sex ached; ached with their fucking from the night before, ached with need for him now, ached so wonderfully that she thought she might faint from it, the intensity of the want there coiling like a spring that would cut and maim when it broke forth; “let me, baby, please, let me touch you,” he whispered, and she lifted her fingers from her clit to let the large, warm pad of his index finger flush itself against the bud of nerves between her legs, her hand falling down over his palm to grip at his wrist, holding him there--”There, that’s better, baby,” he murmured, “God, I can’t wait to get that fucking mirror,” and she nodded and said “You wanna watch yourself fuck me, huh, baby,” and he said “Fuck yes, I wanna watch myself fuck you, Kenzie, angel baby, fucking goddess,” and she laughed a little, and her laugh seemed to stir his desire further and she felt his length spasm inside her and his other hand came up from her breast and around her neck and she gasped a little “Fucking yes, baby,” and he squeezed, the pressure of his fingers constricting the air from her lungs and Kenzie’s heart pounded harshly in the center of her, and her sex twinged under his fingers and then he was pressing his hips up into her and moaning her name as he came, “Kenzie, angel, Kenzie, baby--” and she whimpered as he hand went tighter for a moment, tight enough to make her gasp longer, harder, fuck yes, baby, I love your hand there, forcing me down onto you this way, she knew he heard, and then she came under his hands, came and knew that as she did, he saw the halo around her head as she hovered over him in the sunlight; the halo he’d seen in his dream.

------

“Baby, I was thinking--” Duncan said as she sat at the black obsidian island in the kitchen, in the Marie Laveau tee shirt, staring down at her phone in one hand (Instagram; the comments on the photo of them together were absolutely wild and it had wracked up over 35,000 likes; Claire had already sent her several links to websites gushing about the photo, including one from BPF.com: DUNCAN SHEPHERD AND GIRLFRIEND MACKENZIE STONE POST FIRST SELFIE TOGETHER ON INSTAGRAM; LEGIONS OF FANS COIN NICKNAME “DUCKENZIE”), hair over her shoulder, a spoon poised in her other hand over the bowl of granola with blueberries and blackberries he’d given her, to her delight--”We own a cabin around Deep Creek Lake...it’s about a three hour drive from the city, and it’s...well, it’s a very large cabin, very secluded. Sometimes my Uncle BIll and my mother still use it for private parties, mostly. We used to go there more often when I was young, but it’s been about two years since the last time I stayed there. I was thinking...we could go there and stay for a few days. After the Gala. We could get away from the paps and my mother and everything...all of this. It’s so beautiful there and there are deer sometimes and I think--”

“Yes, baby, fucking yes,” Kenzie cut him off. “Dunny, I would fucking love that.” She couldn’t stop the grin that broke over her face as he turned to her, his blue eyes smiling down at her incredulously, the espresso he’d just made her in his hand. “Dunny, huh? That’s a new one.” He brought it over to her (he was in black sweats again, his torso bare) and she leaned up as his face came down to her; his kiss tasted like bitter coffee and sweet berries and him, all of him, and she sighed into him, gently pulling the copper espresso cup from his hand, her fingers trailing over his languidly.

“That’s what I wanna call you, baby,” She grinned again. “Dunnybunny.” She laughed. Duncan snorted, his face breaking out into a smirk that became a snorting laugh of his own. “I can’t wait to see my mother’s face when you call me that in her presence.”

“Oh, I definitely will, in that case. Not much will make your mother like me less than she already does, so I have nothing to lose.”

“She does like you, though. She can’t help it. The way she kept mentioning that you look like Madeline; that was her way of showing you affection. How could anyone not like you, baby?” His fingers came across the island as he leaned down onto it, trailing down her arm, her wrist, her hand; Kenzie’s phone lay just beyond her fingertips; Duncan glanced at it, noticing the Instagram photo open on it, eyes falling over the hundreds of thousands of likes. “Everyone loves you. And they should.”

“Shut the fuck up,” she smiled up at him, toying with the ends of his fingers, feeling her cheeks blush. Duncan smiled again as he turned away to make another espresso, this one for himself. “Yes, Miss Stone, whatever you say, Miss Stone.”

“Ugh, no, don’t,” and she stood and ran over to him and threw her arms around his back, burying her face in his skin, hair falling in her eyes. “Don’t call me that. Call me baby. Call me Kenzie. Call me angel.”

“Fuck,” and he turned around so she was looking up into his eyes and he said “Kenzie, I will call you angel a thousand times a day if you want me to, anything you want belongs to you now, just say it, just tell me what it is and it’s yours, okay? I mean it. Anything, baby. When’s your birthday, anyway?”

“July 17th. Anchaly told me you’re a Cancer too, so yours must be close to mine.” Kenzie’s arms still gripped Duncan’s hips, and his hand had come around to that soft spot under her ear, down into her hair, the tangles of sleep brushed out. “July 6th,” he answered, pressing his lips into her forehead as she stood there barefoot, feeling tiny in his embrace again, wildly vulnerable and soft and small. “My mother always insists on having a huge party...invites a hundred people, all politicians and celebrities, god, I always hate it, but this year--this year I’ll love it because you’ll be there.” “Mmhmm, of course I will, baby...but I have no idea what to do for a present--what do I get for the man who has everything?” She grinned up at him.

“I do have everything. Now, I truly do, baby. Now the party will always be for you, too. Oh, Kenzie, I love that. I love that our birthdays are close.” He pushed his fingers gently along her cheek, his arm around her shoulder; the tenderness in his voice made her heart shake. “Kenzie, I love you so much, being with you is like--like I’m fucking high as a kite all the time, wonderfully drunk--” he pressed his lips down onto her cheek, along to her ear, and Kenzie shivered, her body arching up into him, unable to stop herself. “That cabin sounds so wonderful, baby,” Kenzie said, trying to break the spell that had begun to weave between them again--she’d have to get ready to go to the Shepherd mansion soon, it wouldn’t do to arrive disheveled in front of Annette Shepherd from fucking her son on the table. But I do want him to fuck me on the table, Kenzie realized. We haven’t fucked on the table--not this one or that fucking beautiful cherrywood table in the other room--I want him to lay me down on it and fuck my fucking brains out standing. “To get away from everything like that sounds so perfect, everything has just been so insane…”

Duncan pulled away from her, nodding. “That’s why I thought of it. I don’t want you to get...overwhelmed. The paps are enough to drive anyone insane, but they hound this family like wolves at raw meat, ever since my grandfather became one of the richest men in America back in the 70’s. And the way they’re acting around you scares me. I want you to be safe and happy more than anything, baby. And it’ll be just the two of us. Just us.” His hand fell against her lips, probing gently. Kenzie opened her mouth a little to let his finger in, tongue swirling over it, her eyes lifted to his and she could see the heated desire coiled there again, could see the shape of the thoughts drifting inside him; he’s thinking about getting a hook for the ceiling in our bedroom, a hook to hang velvet rope, rope to tie me up and fuck me standing while we watch each other in a gilded mirror and I fall down onto his face as he eats me on his knees and he’s thinking about using that plug on me and then fucking my ass himself, fucking me hard in the ass with his big cock and coming inside me there, and her senses tingled and vibrated with the onslaught of these thoughts. Fuck, baby. Fuck, yes. She sucked at his finger as his thoughts crashed against her, and his eyes went bright with his arousal--blue like the summer sky drifting outside these windows, all my little plants hanging along it now, resting on the spotless sill--Kenzie was sure she had never wanted a man so much in her life as much as she wanted Duncan; she wanted every part of him, every secret, every shadow, every crevice and contour of him memorized, every inch explored, and the desire for him seemed to grow rather than dissipate every time they fucked, every time they came close together as if their minds were linked (but they are, we can each other’s fucking thoughts sometimes), every time he made her come with his mouth and his hands and his hard cock. The thought of exploring each other for days, sheltered by woods and a lake and the quiet of nature, with no one to tell them where to be and no one to take photos of them and no one to stare at them or scold them or probe them for details made her ache; god, that couldn’t come soon enough. But there was so much still to get through, first. Ugh.

“I should get ready to go to your mother’s house, baby,” Kenzie whispered, with regret. Duncan was leaning down to her again, his nose brushing against hers, his mouth hovering just above hers, his breath shallow, his thumb wet with her spit, now trailing along her bottom lip. “But I heard that. And the answer is yes.”

“Fuck, Kenzie.” He pushed his mouth onto hers and she returned his aching kiss for a moment, then pulled back and spoke into him, hearing his breath go ragged.

“While I’m with your mother, you should do some shopping. For us.”

“Uh huh, Kenzie. Yes, baby.”

She slid out of his grasp; Duncan groaned in frustration, and Kenzie could see the flush of his skin, looking at him over her shoulder as she stepped towards the bedroom. Her hip ran into the edge of the island, not looking where she was going; she blushed, wincing, and Duncan bit his lip, looking down at the floor and then back up at her, shyly. Kenzie saw the vulnerability in his gaze at her having heard those thoughts, raw and carnal and full of hedonistic want of her; but they had sent a thrill through her, one that made her think of the colossal painting that stretched across his study again; The Youth of Bacchus, the pleasures of the flesh, my body and your body, baby, together, where they belong.

“Wanna come watch me get dressed, baby?”

“Ugh, yes,” Duncan groaned, and came after her as she ran towards the bedroom, past the dark red roses on the coffee table, laughing.

------

Most of Kenzie’s clothes were still on the rolling clothing rack she’d used in her old apartment; the clothes that had been in her sun-and-moon dresser still stacked neatly in large boxes. Duncan had, somewhat shyly, asked if he could put all her things away for her--while she was busy with Annette--in the drawers on the right side of the walk-in closet; “I’m going to move the things I have in there out; it’s your side now.” “Are you kidding, baby, it’s my dream for someone else to do my laundry for me. You can put my clothes away every damn day. You can be my personal stylist,” and she clutched him around the waist for a moment, pressing against him, and he smiled down at her. “You’ll have one of those for real very soon, baby,” he replied. “Annette insists, for all public events. Also--now that I’m thinking of it--I have a service deliver groceries here several times a week. If you write down everything you think we need and give it to Anchaly in the morning, it’s here at night. It’s safer--and especially after that incident yesterday, baby, I think you shouldn’t go out alone for things like that. Harris should be with you if you need to go shopping for any reason. You should use the card I gave you to order anything you need online as much as you want to; Anchaly signs for packages, too.”

Kenzie frowned a little, leaning away from him, going over to her hanging rack and pulling out a black collared sweater with short sleeves, throwing it on its hanger on the bed. She leaned over one of the boxes that littered the corner, finding the high-waisted mini skirt she was looking for; it was black too, with gold buttons down the front. She pulled the Marie Laveau shirt off, standing there in just her underwear for a moment; as she pulled the skirt up, wiggling it over her hips, she avoided Duncan’s gaze from where he stood standing at the door of the walk-in closet, leaning against it, eyes focused on her; she couldn’t hear him right now, but knew anyway that he was looking at her with both affectionate concern and desire.

“Kenzie. I understand your frustration, baby. I do.”

Kenzie breathed out, leaning over another box, finding a strapless tan-colored bra, snapping it over her arms and pulling the cups over her little breasts (she’d remembered reading somewhere that for fittings a strapless bra should be worn), and then she turned to him, in just her bra and skirt, the frown still creasing over her face. I can’t help it, she thought. This sucks. “It just...makes me fucking sad, baby,” she said, tucking a golden-tawny wave behind her ear, reaching for the shirt she’d tossed on the bed. Duncan came over to where she stood; he slid onto the bedspread, grasping her hand before she could pull it away, crossing his legs, pulling her gently down to him. “Like I’ve given up a part of me...one that could go to the grocery store and just...get groceries. Fuck.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry it’s like this.”

She knelt on the bedspread, mussed from their passion and their sleep, looking at him; the bareness of his shoulders and the fall of his hair and his expression of remorse, blue eyes burning, oh, those eyes; then she pressed her arms around his neck, and Duncan put his face into her hair and pulled her into his lap, breathing her in.

“I know it’s not your fault, baby,” she murmured. “I just...I can’t believe...in just a week...so much can change. Everything. You know?”

“Baby, I know. Everything is different now. It feels strange to me too--everything I thought I wanted for the company...it was really something my uncle wants-- something my mother wants. I want something else. I want what you said, what you thought across that table when you looked at my mother--to bring other people happiness like this.”

Kenzie nodded into his neck, her body filling with sweet affection for him, a golden cascade of love--to choose your light over your darkness takes courage, my dearest love, and I am so proud of you, so proud to know you and love you in this moment, was the thought she pushed into him, and his arms tightened around her and she felt the emotion in the way he moved his head against her, felt the tremor in him, overcome with her admonition. You aren’t dark. You’ve chosen to be something else. That’s what matters.

Kenzie heard her phone trumpet from the kitchen island where she’d left it; she glanced over at the silver alarm clock on Duncan’s side of the bed and noticed it was 11:30 exactly. “Baby, I think I have to go soon,” she whispered into him and Duncan sighed. “I wish we could just stay home together, today,” he murmured into her.

“Me too, baby. But tomorrow we can. Tomorrow we have the whole day to ourselves. Maybe I can finally put all my things away.” She kissed him and Duncan closed his eyes; “Or we can just fuck all day, baby,” he said into her mouth, and Kenzie grinned into him, shivering. “I’m curious how many times I can make you come in a row--” And she wiggled out of his arms teasingly as he said this, loving the hungry look in his eyes. “Get that mirror and that hook,” she said, staring at him for a long moment, “and we can test that theory,” then, Kenzie went back over to the boxes in the corner, pulling out a pair of black socks, slipping them on her feet. Duncan watched the incline of her leg, letting out another soft little moan, almost involuntary; then he climbed off the bed and went to the walk-in closet, pushing his sweatpants down as he did, kicking them off, still looking over his shoulder into her eyes as his cock came free of its constraints, not quite erect, but not soft either; in that between state of arousal and anticipation; he slowly moved his hand down to it, gripping its shaft for a moment, leaning against the doorway, eyes falling up and down her body in the little sweater and mini skirt, his mouth open just a little, and Kenzie bit her lip. “Bad boy,” she whispered. “I’m gonna punish you later.” He grinned at her and went into the closet. Kenzie passed by to get her phone from the kitchen and couldn’t help but glance to him undressed, his back turned to her now; his wide shoulders extending down to his round ass and thick thighs, the fine hairs on his legs visible in the warm light of the closet. Beloved. Like the statue of David. I really do wish we could stay in bed all day, worshiping each other. If we ever get tired of fucking, it won’t be anytime soon.

Kenzie reached for her phone as she reached the island, looking down at the text.

Samuel: Miss Mackenzie, ready when you are.

Harris had today off; Kenzie supposed it wasn’t necessary to have him at the Shepherd mansion (there was no chance of paps being there; there was heavy security around the clock), though, she thought, it would have been nice to have his large presence beside her, in case Annette tries to poison me, only half-facetiously, biting her lip. On my way down in 5, she replied. Thanks Samuel. Kenzie went back to the bedroom, stopping in the doorway of the walk-in closet; Duncan was mostly dressed now, in tailored black slacks and a short-sleeved button down; “I don’t think I’ve seen you in short sleeves yet, baby,” she said softly, coming up to him as he did the top button, facing her; glancing up at her. “You look nice. You always look nice. But I like you in short sleeves. You look more...relaxed, or something.”

“I’m pretty sure naked is the most relaxed state you’ve seen me in, Kenzie,” he said, eyes in hers, his radiantly beautiful smile making her shy again. “Also, the short sleeves are for practical reasons--the high today is 81.” Kenzie turned to where several pairs of her shoes were lined against the floor; she hadn’t had time to organize these yet either, but she picked out her long black pointed boots, leaning against the drawers as she pulled them on under Duncan’s watchful eye; he was switching between buckling on his black Movado and staring at her legs again as they vanished under the black velvety fabric of the boots; they always made her feel pretty when she wore them, and she felt like she could use all the help she could get if Annette was going to be breathing down her neck for a few hours. “Samuel’s waiting for me downstairs, baby,” she said, looking up at him, straightening, clutching her phone in one hand, reaching for him with the other; he grasped her arm, stepping forward, and leaned down into her, and his heady, musk-wood smell fell over her again, dizzying and deep. “I’ll text you when I’m done with your mom, okay?”

“Okay, baby. Thank you for doing this. But remember what I said, if you don’t like what she wants you to wear, you don’t have to wear it. Erik is reasonable, he’ll understand.”

Kenzie reached over to where some of her jewelry was lined on the accessory shelf built into the side (her side) of the closet; she slipped the long necklace with tiny gold star charms on it around her neck; it dangled to her stomach, and she flipped her hair back over her shoulders, placing her hands on her hips. “How do I look, baby.”

“Like my Kenzie. Like a fucking angel.”

“Can you see my halo and wings still?”

“Always.”

She blushed; ugh, this fucking Prince. Fuck me, pressing her face up to kiss him again, then dancing away as he tried to grab her closer--”You are too fucking good at that,” he said after her, his eyes like deep ocean, and she giggled as she snatched the little convertible bag from where she’d left it by the wall in the living room, dipping down to smell the roses on the table, their evocative sweetness floating up at her; she glanced towards where she knew his bust of Nike was on the left side of the Bouguereau prints, and spoke a silent prayer for a day that wasn’t rife with the stresses of yesterday; spoke a silent prayer that in Annette Shepherd’s presence, she would be fearless and calm. Duncan followed her out, barefoot; he watched her go to the door and pull it open, and she said, “Wish me luck, baby.”

“You don’t need luck, Kenzie. You are beloved of the gods.”

She stared at him, puzzled; she could feel the small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “That’s a funny thing to say, Duncan.” He came up to her, hands falling through her hair with adamant affection, before she could slip away from him again. “It’s true. I said it because it’s true. I feel it. Destiny. Our destiny. This wasn’t luck. It was destiny. It is our destiny.”

The doubt slipped from her mind; the confusion melted. “It really is, isn’t it.”

“Yes. It really is.” He kissed her fiercely again; his mouth bruising into hers; touching in thin tendrils down to her stomach. She pressed into him for a moment, suddenly possessed by her sadness at leaving him; then pulled away softly and stepped into the hall.

“I’ll see you in a few hours, baby.”

“Mhm, Kenzie. I love you.”

“And I, your Persephone, love you.”

“Oh, baby--”

Kenzie ran away from him down the hall to the elevator, which magically, somehow, opened for her before she even pressed the button. She turned as the doors slid shut, and he was leaning against the frame of the penthouse entrance, arm clutching the lintel, eyes on her, and she knew he was thinking of flowers in her hair again, petals floating down and leaving a secret trail behind her as she descended back to earth.

-----

Samuel had his foot on the gas of the BMW as soon as Kenzie slid into the backseat; she’d taken more time than she thought upstairs (your son was distracting me, Annette) and it was fifteen till the hour. Today he was listening to Fleetwood Mac; Kenzie clapped her hands together, delighted; listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise--”Samuel, can you turn it up?” She saw Samuel’s very white grin at her in the rearview, and watched his hand reach out to the knob on the Harman Kardon sound system; Stevie and Lindsey’s voices crashed into her on either side as if they were in the backseat with her.

“And if you don’t love me now, you will never love me again, I can still hear you sayin’, you would never break the chain--” Samuel had the windows down and the wind whipped her hair across her cheek and neck, and Kenzie thought of Duncan’s hands and his blue gaze and his mouth and his hair on his forehead and the stubble on his cheeks and his height towering over her but his looks of longing into her eyes and toyed with the little stars on her necklace, feeling them carefully, singing along softly to herself. We can hear each other’s thoughts sometimes. A week ago I would have thought current me had lost her fucking mind. But I know it’s real. How can it be real? I don’t fucking know. But it is.

“Miss Mackenzie, your voice is so beautiful,” Samuel said, glancing up at her, the smile still at his mouth. “You should have been a singer, like Ms. Nicks.”

“Thank you, Samuel. To be compared to Stevie is the highest of compliments.”

“Just so.”

Chain, keep up together...Chain, keep us together…

As Samuel pulled up to the gate of the Shepherd mansion, Kenzie’s stomach did a backflip and she floated away from the strains of Christine’s high, cheerful voice: you, you make loving fun, it’s all I wanna do--Holy fuck, Kenzie thought. This is huge even for a mansion. She could see the tall Colonial-style windows over the gate, the Roman pillars extending in the doorway, a balcony above. I need to remember Duncan’s family is one of the richest in the country. Fuck. Am I ever gonna get used to this? Samuel spoke into the intercom (“Mackenzie Stone here to see Annette Shepherd,”) and the gate buzzed open. Kenzie glanced down at her phone; it was five till. She silently thanked Samuel’s magical powers of speed again. Samuel pulled up around the curving driveway to the entrance; vast double doors seemed to stare down at her with hostile judgement. Kenz, you got this. Remember the way Duncan pushed his love into you last night. The way you gathered it and moved it and made it more. You can gather it that way again, just remember that feeling. Be brave like Momby.

Kenzie breathed out, thanked Samuel (and silently, Stevie) and stepped out of the car, boots clicking on the smooth, tasteful cobble of the driveway, looking up at the house, bag slung over her shoulder, phone clutched in her palm. It was sunny and beautiful today; it was truly beginning to feel like summer. Kenzie breathed in deeply and let it out again; don’t let her get to you, no matter what she says, Kenzie. Momby wouldn’t. Duncan wouldn’t. Don’t do it.

She waved a little at Samuel before she shut the door; “I’ll text you when I’m done, is that okay, Samuel?” “Of course, Miss Mackenzie. See you later.” She turned away as it clicked shut, steeling herself again for a moment, then going up the three wide, smooth white steps to the double doors, both with opulent knobs made of embossed gold; she hesitated, unsure of the etiquette; do I knock? Kenzie reached out and turned one of the knobs, apprehensively, peeking her head slowly into the interior of the house. Inside, it was as opulent a place as she had ever seen; if Duncan’s penthouse was spotless, you could eat a steak off the floor of the foyer of this house; Kenzie felt immediately far too ordinary to be here; too flawed, too insecure, and far too human. She toyed with the idea of running out, waving Samuel down and speeding off. But that, of course, was impossible.

A woman came towards her, beckoning sternly. She was very tall (probably taller than Duncan, Kenzie thought, reminded of Harris) and had hair so blonde it was almost white; it was pulled back into a very tight bun that looked painful to Kenzie, and her face was done up with carefully-applied, subdued makeup, her thin, nude-lipsticked lips pressed together tightly. She wore a very tight, very neat pantsuit in dark gray with low black kitten heels, and she looked very strong, with wide shoulders and hips. “Mackenzie Stone, come here.” Her voice had a slight accent, one that Kenzie couldn’t place. Danish? Swedish? “I am Ingrid. They are in the South Wing.” Kenzie jumped inside, pulling the big door shut behind her; the foyer was eerily quiet but for a huge grandfather clock swinging in one corner. Ingrid beckoning with a short motion again; “Come, now, thank you.”

Kenzie stepped quickly behind the woman, who moved very fast and almost noiselessly; I bet this woman could kill someone easily without ever getting caught, Kenzie thought with a chill. I guess Annette needs people like that around her. Ingrid led her around the right side of the curving double staircase, down a hallway hidden behind it, towards the far end of the mansion; if Duncan has one Bouguereau original, I can’t even contemplate how many of these are authentic, Kenzie thought, gazing around at the paintings that adorned the walls (they seemed to mostly be a mixture of Impressionist and Modern art--but there’s nothing here as beautiful as The Youth of Bacchus, she thought, it’s the most beautiful painting I have ever seen, and my boyfriend OWNS it), the sconces and shelves that held Ming vases and sculptures and china and embossed books. Ingrid turned a corner sharply, then opened a long white door (another embossed gold knob) to a round, wide parlor room, modified to look like a dressing room, with a round dais in the center and several mannequins along one wall, a few very beautiful Regent-style white-and-gold armchairs littered here and there; Kenzie saw Annette stretched languidly in one of them, dressed in a flawless cream-colored wrap dress with a black sash tied at her waist, her perfectly styled hair falling down her shoulder, her expression hidden by the angle, and a man with a very bright floral scarf, a shiny bald head and very long false eyelashes standing with a hip cocked facing the doorway, gesturing at her flamboyantly and telling a story, animatedly.

“--I said honey-bun, you don’t get to tell me what the fuck I’m going to do, I tell you what the fuck I’m going to do, then you give me the time I need to fucking do it.” The man cocked his head, batting his lashes. Annette let out a little barking laugh. “Needless to say, I--” The man broke off, noticing Ingrid at the door, and Kenzie hovering behind her.

Annette glanced back. “Oh. Mackenzie. You’re actually on time.”

Uhhhhh. Kenzie’s hands came up to the star necklace, noticing her hand was trembling. What would have happened if I wasn’t?

“Thank you, Ingrid, you can shut the door.”

Ingrid gave Annette a curt nod, and gave Kenzie a long glance as she left, her eyes going from Kenzie’s feet up her body to her hair around her shoulders and down again, a judging glint in her cold eyes. Yep, you got it, I’m fucking Duncan, you’re right, Kenzie thought. Stare away, make sure I have the right genetics and the birthing hips and my boobs are the right size. I wonder what Annette will say when she hears I don’t want to have kids, ha! The door shut behind the woman with a loud, clean click, and the man in the eyelashes came toward Kenzie, pressing his hands theatrically to his cheeks.

“My, my, my, what a little cupcake you are.” He reached for her hands and Kenzie extended her palms into his, her cheeks burning with apprehension. “A little rose petal, a babydoll blooming bud, a teensy slice of delectable red velvet. I’ll bet he’s been nibbling at you night and day.”

“Erik, that’s enough,” Annette said, and Kenzie glanced over to her to see an expression of sharp annoyance in her eyes; whatever mirth may have been on Annette’s face a moment ago was gone, replaced with a calculating neutrality.

“Lord, Annette, as if you can’t see why he’s absolutely head-over-heels.” Erik rolled his eyes, letting Kenzie go, giving her a little wink that Annette couldn’t see from where she sat. Kenzie pressed her lips together tightly, trying not to smile. I like him. “She’s like a tiny little princess in a fairy tale. Snow White. Rose Red. Princess Peach. I’m Erik, sweet thing. And you’re Mackenzie. And this is Annette--oh, you knew that, of course.” Erik turned to Annette, giving her a long look and a coy smile.

“Mackenzie, come here, we have a lot of work to do and I have a meeting at 3,” Annette said to her curtly, standing up and beckoning to the dais. “Erik needs to take your measurements, and then we need to discuss a color palette.”

“I’m thinking mod,” Erik gestured vaguely towards Kenzie’s hips, flicking his wrist. “Like Edie Sedgwick at a Renaissance fair.” Annette made an exasperated noise from the back of her throat as Kenzie came up beside her, heart pounding, and grasped Kenzie’s arm suddenly with a tight, pinching grip, pushing her onto the dais. “Measurements, please, Erik. Mackenzie, hold still.”

Erik spent the next ten minutes or so pressing a measuring tape along Kenzie’s body as she moved as he told her to; Kenzie looked down from Annette’s appraising gaze, which seemed as cold and heavy as ice; she tried to remember the warmth that had spread around the table over dinner last night, but it slipped away from her, just beyond her grasp; without Duncan there, Kenzie felt lost inside her doubt, caught in the approximate, austere eyes of his mother. I doubt those comments from Erik helped warm her heart to me today, Kenzie thought, exasperated. Her stomach felt sour and she contemplated asking for a glass of water, but Annette’s frown deterred her. She remembered Annette didn’t know she’d moved into Duncan’s penthouse yet; oh fuck, she’s really gonna love that one. Annette’s quietness unnerved her--who knew what Duncan’s mother was thinking behind her dark-well eyes. Erik fussed over her, as if to fill the silence between them: “Look at your tiny little hourglass! Those hips, my dear, absolutely to die for. A pity you’re not a little taller, then again, Madeline was never known for her height, was she. How is she these days, by the way?”

“Very well, thanks for asking.” Kenzie’s eyes slid to Annette, who raised her eyebrows, then back to Erik, who was pressing the measuring tape along her bust with careful precision; he had clearly done this a thousand times before her, and his interest in her breasts was completely non-existent beyond the practicality of his duties. “She’s retired now. We had a wonderful time with her the other night.” She looked at Annette again for a moment, seeing the angry flash in the other woman’s eyes; kicking the hornet’s nest, Kenz, she scolded herself, but it was too late; heat was rising behind her temples. I am good enough for your son, Annette. You may never think so, but that doesn’t fucking matter. You’re going to accept me eventually because your son loves me and that’s not going to change. This is our destiny. He said so himself to me. He knows it too. I may not be the trust-fund heiress to an oil company in Texas you would have chosen for him, but I’m the one for him, tough shit.

Erik seemed to have finished his measurements, taking note of them on a little yellow notepad with a fountain pen in his manicured fingers; “Annette, what do you think for colors. I’m thinking black and white with a gold embellishment.”

“I don’t fucking care,” Annette said, her tone biting. She sat in the armchair facing Kenzie, eyes falling down Kenzie’s small form; half-full of resentment, half a simmering superiority.

“Ummmmm,” Erik said, rolling his eyes a little again. “Honey, you’re the one who insisted she do this with you in the first place.” Kenzie gave him a grateful look.

“Mackenzie, I hope you understood how serious I was last night,” Annette said, ignoring Erik. Kenzie bit into the inside of her cheek, willing herself to stay calm. “If you are offered another article in the nature of the one published on Friday, you will turn it down.”

“Annette, with all due respect, I’m a journalist working for a liberal publication. I’m not a Republican, and dating Duncan doesn’t suddenly make me a centrist. Maybe you should ask Duncan what he really wants for the company in the first place, since he’s going to be helping you run it soon.” The words tumbled out of her, and Kenzie immediately bit her lip, fumbling her hands together. Oh fuck, Kenz. What was that.

A cold pallor fell over Annette’s face; it made Kenzie’s blood chill in her veins. Erik’s mouth snapped shut and he raised his eyebrows, a little hiss of air escaping his lips. Annette sat up very straight in the chair, setting her hands on the armrests with her fingers tightly curled. “He told you that, did he,” she hissed.

“Yes. We’re together now. I deserve to know about his life.” Kenzie tried to quell the tremble that had started in her hands; adrenaline pumped through her, making her feel as though she’d just taken a hit of weed. “You seem determined to hate me, Annette, but I don’t hate you at all. I wish you could see that Duncan doesn’t want what you want; that he’s sensitive and good and kind and wants to be surrounded by real things, beautiful things. He just wants to be loved, just wants to love--and we love each other. Why would you try to deny him of that?”

“I don’t have time for this today.” Annette stood, eyes blazing. “Mackenzie, if you speak a word of what Duncan has told you to anyone, I will make sure you seriously regret it. Erik, get her a fucking dress, I don’t give a shit what it looks like. Give her a fucking brown bag to wear for all I care.” She stormed out the door, slamming it behind her.

“Oh, honey, you are Madeline Stone’s daughter, aren’t you?” Erik turned to Kenzie, a grin falling over his features, his long eyelashes batting at her. “She had that coming; and you have nerves of steel.”

“Not really feeling like it at the moment,” Kenzie said, voice audibly shaking. Now that she had started to come down from the adrenaline, she felt woozy and sick.

“So, what do you want to wear?” He pressed a finger to the side of his face.

Kenzie tried to clear her head, her mind frenzied and racing from the exchange with Annette; then, like clouds parting to the sun, she thought of the one friend who had been a constant in her life since they were in middle school; their friendship carrying her through high school and shitty jobs and college and a breakup and her bumpy first year at the Post when her self-doubt had been at an all-time high. Clairebear. Morgan Winthrop.

“My...my best friend Claire. She works for a designer. Morgan Winthrop.”

“Oh, honey, I know Morgan. We go way back. We used to go to Studio 54 together. You want Morgan to make your dress?”

“I--Yes. Yes I do.” Kenzie tossed her head back, pushing her chin out. To hell with this. It’s my life and my relationship and if I have to go to this Gala, I want to wear what I want to wear. The theme is based on me after all. Gold in the darkness. He said it was based on me. That it’s for me. It’s me.

“Darling, I think that’s marvelous.” Erik tucked his head down to her conspiratorially. “I can see why you’d be drawn to Morgan’s aesthetic. And I think she’d know just what to do for you. A little birdy told me Duncan based the theme on you, a little slice of starlight--little golden moonbeam that you are. I’ve never seen him this way. You’ve gotten down under his skin, babydoll. You’re in the soul of him, now.”

“So...you’ll help me?”

“Darling. In a minute. I want to see that boy happy. And Annette does, too. She just needs to realize that. With your help, I have a sneaky suspicion that won’t take as long as one might have thought. You’re a bold little burst of fresh air.”

Kenzie hopped down from the dias, heart pounding, and went to the armchair where she’d placed her convertible bag, pulling her phone in its gold case out, opening her contacts to Clairebear. She hit the call button, raising the phone to her ear. Claire picked up after two rings. “Hello, Kenzie? Is everything okay?”

“Clairebear, I need your help. I need Morgan’s help. I need Morgan to make my dress for the Shepherd Freedom Foundation Gala. And I need it to be the most amazing fucking dress of all time.”

[dp-pastandpresent]

Past and Present: Chapter 15

Sam woke up in her bed, covered in sweat and unable to remember how she had gotten there.

As she rolled over, she slowly began to recall the conversation between her grandmother and Danny, followed by her visit to Tucker, and then the graveyard.

The graveyard!

Why hadn't she thought to search out Danny before? After all, she knew he was from Amity Park and had to have a plot there. But the more she thought about what she discovered, the more she wished it had all been a dream.

Before she could contemplate it more though, a soft knock came at her door.

"Sammy, it's getting late, and I know you've had a rough weekend, but you need to get up."

Grandma.

"Go away!" Sam growled, turning over to face the wall. The last person she really wanted to see right now was HER.

But Sarah Manson was not one to take no for an answer, and instead opened the door and came in anyway, parking her scooter next to Sam's bed.

"Sam… please… we need to…"

"Talk! I think I heard enough of that yesterday! I really just need to be alone." Sam growled at the wall, trying her hardest to avoid making any contact with her visitor.

"I don't think you even heard the whole story yesterday dear, and even if you did, that was fifty years ago…"

"Fifty years or five, it still matters." Sam pouted.

Sarah was quiet for a bit, contemplating her next move, but not willing to give up just yet.

Finally, "You're right, it does. But you have to admit, this situation isn't normal by any means. After all, when…" she stopped, not willing to say the next part, for she hadn't spoken those words in so long.

Sam noticed the pause and slowly glanced at her grandma, seeing her glasses start to fog up once again.

"…Danny died," she finally said, then added, "well, no one ever expected him to come back…"

She did have to give her grandma some credit – who would ever expect to see the ghost of their former boy friend return, let alone fifty years later?

But that didn't mean she was ok with the whole thing.

"Just go, please," Sam said quietly, still refusing to catch her Grandma's eye.

Knowing she had lost, Sarah slowly backed out of the room, but not without one final say.

"Just know dear, whatever happens, I'm here for you."

--

Danny had spent the night in the graveyard. He'd found himself feeling tired for the first time since his return and found himself leaning against his own headstone and letting his mind race.

Danny had been so sure last night that the 'D x S' had meant 'Danny and Sarah'; the scratches seemed old, and he knew Sam had not found his grave until now.

But the more he thought about it, the more he wished he hadn't seen it. Sure, she probably scratched it in the day of the funeral, when she was still in love. And sure, fifty years had passed and she had found a family; he had known that for a while now. However, he still couldn't shake the conversations they had had yesterday.

"I never forgot you Danny! Never."

'And she didn't. She knew me right away, standing in that room, white hair and all.'

White hair. Green eyes. Cold body. A ghost.

That's what he was: a ghost. And for the first time since his resurrection, it finally hit him that he wasn't truly living; he hadn't been for awhile.

'What am I even doing here? Trying to save people but making a bigger mess than when I started. My mission was done the second that portal opened; I should have just turned around and gone back.'

'If you were supposed to go back, Clockwork wouldn't have shared those memories with you. You wouldn't have an innate sense to save people. And you wouldn't have been able to remove that amulet.'

Remembering the amulet, he quickly pulled it out of his pocket , holding it up to his face for a closer look.

From afar, it was a typical round, gold charm. But upon closer inspection, Danny noticed some small writing inscribed along the border in a language he couldn't decipher. In the center was a circle, and to his surprise, an emblem that seemed oddly familiar. How so, he could not place, but he knew he had seen it somewhere.

As he held up, it began to glow a faint green. After a moment, Danny noticed this green glow was transferring to his body as well.

Freaking out, he dropped it to the ground. His glow returned to normal. Danny was unsure what to do about this, but knew there was more to this trinket than met the eye.

'Do I dare keep carrying this thing around? It could be dangerous...' he found himself thinking has he looked down at the necklace on the ground, which was no longer glowing.

He knew the one place it could be kept safe: The same place he had been leaving other things. But would she really want to see him, especially now?

'She might not want to see you, but you NEED to see her.'

He needed Sam, that he knew. Having spent the night in the graveyard, surrounded by his past, he knew that even more certainly now. Something was pulling at him, forcing him to want her, NEED her.

But did she want him? It was hard to tell.

The way she had acted when she discovered the truth made him believe that she didn't.

But the flowers before him said otherwise.

A double edged sword: that's what he was facing. And no amount of ecto-energy could dull the blade.

--

"Sam! I didn't expect to see you again so soon! I'm not sure if we have anything for you today."

Maddie stood at the doorway, looking down at her guest with a hesitant smile on her face.

"It's ok Mrs. Fen- Maddie! I just needed to get out of the house. Mind if I come in, even if I just sweep a bit?"

Sam had finally gotten out of bed, a mission in her sights: now that she knew the connection with Danny and the Fentons, she was even more enthusiastic about "interning" at the lab.

'Maybe I can catch a glimpse of that computer…' she thought as Maddie led her downstairs.

But if she was going to, it wasn't going to be now, for Jack was once again staring intently at the computer screen, a glazed over look upon his face.

"Jack! Jack!" Maddie had to call multiple times before her husband finally looked up to see his wife glaring at him.

"Oh, sorry Mads! I just was trying to figure something out…" he said, his eyes darting between his wife and the computer.

Maddie raised her eyebrows curiously.

"This morning, when I came down, the ecto sensors were going off. Apparently someone, erm, thing, was here last night. There's ecto-DNA all over my computer!"

"But that's impossible dear. We closed the portal before we went to the…" Maddie stopped, not wanting to let too much slip in front of their guest.

'Where?'

"I don't know Maddie, maybe we let one slip. Or maybe it was one of those local ghosts? I still can't identify the DNA sample – it keeps coming back positive for me, and you know I'm not a ghost!" Jack seemed annoyed, like he should have solved the problem by now.

'Local ghost, Jack's imprint… Danny! He must have come here last night…'

Sam's mind was again reeling with this information; she wanted so badly to get her hands on that computer.

Maddie and Jack were still so wrapped in their own conversations, they didn't even see Sam slip by and wander over to one of the tables, where a new gadget lay.

"Jack, you don't think it's...?" Maddie said in a hushed voice, trying to hide their conversation from their visitor.

"It could be! But I can't know for sure until I do more tests, and our equipment isn't up to speed yet."

The gadget Sam was looking at seemed to be a boomerang, but was made of metal and had glowing sensors on it.

'Well, they definitely didn't get this in Australia, that's for sure.'

As she picked it up, it began to glow, emitting a low "whirrrr" sound.

"Sam! What in the world?"

The Fenton's private conversation came to a halt as the couple turned to face the young girl.

But before anyone could do anything, the device began to beep, telling the group that it had discovered something.

"OF COURSE!" Jack got up quickly and ran over to Sam, grabbing the device. "The Boooo-Merang!"

"The what?" Sam asked, still trying to get the hang of all the ghost lingo.

"It's something Jack invented. It picks up ecto-signitures and tells you where the ghosts are. But it's never worked before," Maddie said, as if she was tired of her husband inventing new things that never worked.

"Because there's never been a ghost in the lab since I invented it! Until now!"

'Wait? So this device, this Booo-Merang, it can find ghosts? Find Danny?'

She wasn't sure she wanted to find him, let alone allow the Fentons to. But she hadn't seen him since she ran out and was starting to soften up to the idea of more answers.

"If a ghost really visited last night, this will find it! I'm sure of it!"

Before Sam could even attempt to stop him, Jack threw the device up the stairwell, and to everyone's surprise, its jets propelled it up the stairs and out of sight.

"Jack… now what?" Maddie asked, both amused and frustrated with her husband's antics.

"Well… actually, I'm not sure. I know it will find the ghost, but I don't actually think I programmed it to bring it back to us…" Jack's smile quickly faded.

"So, basically, you just threw it, hoping it'd find a ghost, and that ghost would just happily bring it back to us?"

"Well when you put it that way… I think I need fudge…"

Jack lowered his head and began up the stairs, his wife following as they again forgot that they had a visitor.

'Man, if those two had children, they'd be able to get away with murder …'

Not that Sam cared, for she finally had the lab to herself. And Jack had left his computer on, completely password free.

Taking one last glance around, she quickly hopped into the chair and clicked the screen to life.

Jack had left his "DNA Identifier" open, although there was no real data to display.

'If he really wants to identify ghosts, he's going to have to start getting more samples…'

She hit the tiny horizontal line at the top and found herself on the desktop, loaded with game icons and various folders.

'Doom. Portal XL. Diner Dash? Really Jack?'

Reality sunk in as she realized she had no idea what she was looking for, having been so excited to get the chance to poke around that she hadn't thought of what would happen when she finally could.

'Blueprints. Ghost files, family photos…'

Sam let out a yawn, already ready to give up her search.

'Wait…. Family photos! Duh!'

She smacked her head as she clicked on the icon, and a familiar set of eyes appeared.

Even in black and white, she knew them the second she saw them. Gorgeous eyes that were lit up with a smile on the boy's face as his black hair fell forward. He had his hand around a girl, a couple years older, who was also smiling.

'Danny and Jazz' the caption read.

'So that's his sister, she looks just like him, eyes and all.'

After gazing at this black and white eyes a bit longer, she finally hit the 'next' arrow, only to be bombarded with more photos of her ghostly crush in his youth. Her eyes began to tear up.

'Stop Sam. You knew he had a childhood. Family. Life. You're stronger than this; don't let it get to you.'

'But you're not strong: that night at the dance proved it. Dash was barely worth it and yet you still chose to take your life. Again and again you've thought about it, and again and again he's saved you...'

And he always would. As she peered at the photos, she began to remember all the things they had done together and the bond they had begun to form. No amount of memories or time gaps could change the fact that he had saved her in more ways than one.

'Danny. You've always been so strong. Even as memories came back and things got unearthed, you always kept that smile on your face. And what did I do? I ran. I didn't even give you a chance to explain.'

Sam was crying now as she stared at an old family photo of the Fentons: Danny and Jazz both under the age of ten holding their parents' hands at the park.

'Danny. I'm sorry…'

She hit the 'next' key, ready for whatever was to come. But not fully ready for what she saw.

There he was. Sitting in the sandbox, again at a young age. But he wasn't alone this time. No, he had a companion.

'Grandma.'

--

Danny found himself outside the local burger joint, a small rumble coming from his stomach. He had been feeling it all day, but couldn't quite place what it meant until he managed to find where his senses told him he needed to be.

'That's not right though. Ghosts don't get hungry. Ghosts don't crave hamburgers. Ghosts don't EAT!'

But his stomach insisted otherwise as the smell of grease wafted from a nearby vent.

"Hmmmm burgers…"

He couldn't take it anymore; he had to at least go inside and let his cravings have their feast.

'Might not be able to eat it, but doesn't mean you can't SMELL it!'

Turning invisible, Danny flew through the wall and into the restaurant, finding his senses completely engulfed with the smell of French fries and burgers.

'Man, what I wouldn't give for just a bite of one of those,' he thought as a waitress walked through him with a tray of food.

And he was about to grab one off a nearby tray when a sudden crash stopped him. Turning around, he saw that one of the store windows was completely shattered, and several people staring in awe.

'What the…?'

That was all he could think before feeling something hit in the head and falling to the ground.

[mariposalass]

July Babies Soup and S’mores Birthday

Summary: It’s the July Babies’ Soup and S’mores Birthday Party and you’re invited to celebrate in the fun.

Setting: Mari and co.’s home in Daly City, California; July 17, 2019, nighttime

Notes: It’s the big joint soup and s’mores birthday party for me, Kairi, and Harry since we’re all July born babies. You can definitely use this as a prompt to write, draw, etc. to accompany this fun story.  Also, I will be traveling to Hong Kong with my mom and aunt for the annual summer sale from the 25th to the 28th. Four days after my birthday, which is a first for me as we normally go there some time before my birthday and is becoming a birthday tradition for me. Apologies in advance if I have to do this really early. Also, there’s not too much dialogue in here as to allow everyone to contribute to the event.

Tags: July Babies, birthday, tons of fluff, crossovers, self shipping, soup and s’mores birthday party, joint soup and s’mores party

“Hey there, thanks for coming over,” Mari greets the guests as they arrive in her house one calm July night as she escorts them to the living room for a big birthday party held in her and her adopted siblings’ honor.

She and the fam bunch have been planning this out for a few weeks since during the planning of her brother Harry and her sister in law Issa’s wedding, although due to the time constraints they have with the wedding, they have to settle with a join birthday bash for her, Harry, and Kairi somewhere in the middle of the month as a compromise. But it’s a compromise they’re willing to make this year, and they went for a soup and s’mores party. The three siblings have shared a birth month with their birthdays being separated by 10 days from each other (Kairi being on the 11th, Mari on the 21st, and Harry on the 31st), the main reason why they’re sometimes called the July Babies.

The living room and dining area may have not been wholly decorated to the theme, but it’s pretty clear that there is a soup buffet with four choices: Chunky Lentil Vegetable, Chicken, White Bean & Corn Chowder, Beef Barley, and Classic Mexican Tortilla, a cheese platter enough to feed an army, kale and Parmesan salad for the healthy minded and vegetable eaters, an assortment of bread with jam and butter, a Funfetti cake Kairi and Issa have baked for the occasion and covered with a glass cover and is protected by a spell Harry has placed on that prevents sneaky cake thieves from getting to it before even dinner could be finished, and a drink station with water, lemonade, and iced tea on hand. Outside, the fire pit area has been prepared with roasters on one side, chairs prepped and ready, and an S’Mores bar with assorted chocolates, graham crackers, marshmallows, and various add-ons have set up beforehand nearby at the patio.

The birthday celebrants and the rest of the fam bunch have dressed up well for the event: Mari in particular is wearing a plain white off shoulder top, button-front denim skirt, a pair of brown flats with braiding details, a pair of gold heart earrings, and a gold, ruby, & pearl choker necklace which matches the one Kairi is also wearing with her slim black dress, distressed blue denim jacket, white sneakers, and her usual single bead pendant necklace. Harry didn’t look out of place either in a slate gray chambray shirt, black slacks, and the same leather dress shoes he’d worn on his wedding day. Issa also dresses well for the party in a white & black vertical stripe long-sleeve top, blue denim jacket, black jeans, and light tan flats along with her old silver heart locket necklace, a stack of mixed metal bangles, and her engagement & wedding rings on her right ring finger; Harry also has his wedding ring on his right ring finger too.

“Thanks for coming over here, everybody,” Kairi starts the talk off, “We know this seems not to be a proper birthday in one way or the other, but since we just came off from Harry and Issa’ wedding last week, we thought we’ll just settle on a joint birthday party for me, him, and Mari instead.”

“You can say that again, sis,” Harry chuckled upon hearing that last part, “To be honest, it was due to the timing it had that we felt having three separate birthday parties this year doesn’t make any sense at all.”

“And it’s a good thing it isn’t a surprise party for you either,” Issa reminded him as well, “The last time we did that, you literally dove behind the sofa in fear and annoyance.”

“Oh Merlin, not that one again...” he moaned in despair after hearing that embarrassing moment.

“Don’t worry, we promise no more surprise birthday parties for you,” she cheekily reassured him while giving the concerned wizard-journalist a heartwarming kiss which got him blushing hard.

“Pardon that off topic tangent: Harry hates surprise parties thrown for him A LOT,” Mari apologies to a slightly confused group of guests before continuing her talk, “Anyway, we have soup being warmed up, some cheese, bread, and salad tonight, and s’mores & cake for desserts later. The S’Mores are also the main stars with the soups, but we also have cake if you’re not into roasting marshmallows on an open fire. Either way, I hope you guys will enjoy tonight’s party.”

With that, the brief meeting has been adjourned and everyone soon start getting some soup, sides, and drinks for the dinner portion. Mari’s cousins Edith and Agnes get to play with other children guests in the party with Margo keeping an eye on them, and so does Kirby who also decides to show off some of his Copy Abilities for a quick showcase along with doing his well-known Kirby Dance with some copies of himself for backup dancers in the middle of the event. Mari’s pets Scooby, Marie, Scorbunny, Torchic, Piplup, and Rowlet enjoy playing with the other pets of the guests who got invited to the party.

Meanwhile, Ahk, Sora, Riku, and Vinny are keeping a close lookout on the S’Mores bar as not to get the supplies ruined or stolen before the S’Mores portion can begin while eating dinner with some of guests at the patio, while Ron and Hermione are trying to see if using the Fire Conjuring spell does a better job in lighting up fire pits than normal procedures, which didn’t went too well compared to Harry’s more modest attempts in every S’Mores Night. When guests finished dinner, they’re more than welcomed to play some games and talk with the birthday celebrants and other guests in the house and the backyard.

Either way, the party goes on well for everyone after dinner was done and leftover soups have been poured onto takeout bowls for the guests to bring home when Mari informs everyone that it’s time for the S’mores and Cake time at the patio. Her godmother aunt Diana carefully brought the cake down to the backyard and held onto the glass cover to avoid it falling over and breaking on the ground while Issa and Harry carried plates, dessert forks, and a cake server as they follow her lead.

People soon head for the backyard and to the patio and fire pit area where the S’Mores fest begins: people who would to make them roast up the marshmallows (though some have to go through trial and error in not burning them to not being edible), assemble the chocolate piece and graham cracker, place the roasted marshmallows onto said chocolate, and sometimes customize them to their liking or follow the S’Mores recipes at the bar before placing that last graham cracker and eating them up and, in some cases, rinse, lather and repeat the process.

Then came the cake: Issa carefully took the glass cover from the Funfetti cake and lights up the 3 candles (one for each July Baby), informing everyone that they will sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to the celebrants and, once that was done, the siblings blow the fire from the candles together and start offering cake to anyone who would like some cake and there’s a couple of them who did, along with those not in the mood for S’Mores time. While some of the guests began to dig into the cake, Mari got one slice from Philip, walked up to the table he was in with the Doctor and a few other guests, and sat besides him as she gave him the cake slice and a fork.

“Hope you like some Funfetti cake, deary,” she attempted to flirt with him as she gave him the cake slice.

“A cake like this?” he asked her inquisitively though it was mixed with concern, “Did the Minions tried to bake this like the last time?”

“Actually, Kairi and Issa are the ones who baked it, so no accidents or food poisoning involved,” Mari gladly replied back, “Don’t be so worrisome, have a bite or two.”

He did took a few bites before realizing that it tastes really good that he whispered to her that he’s giving both Kairi and Issa props on baking of the cake before greeting her (Advance) Happy Birthday and sealing it with a playful kiss on the cheeks, which got her blushing. Harry and Issa are chatting with some good friends when they caught wind of the kiss and smile on with pride. They’re aware it’s taking awhile for Mari to get used to dating and Philip to be patient with her and her quirks, but, at the same, they’re quite proud of them taking their time slowly, take things one at a time, enjoying moments as they come, and working on issues they come across.

The party continues on until around pass 10 in the evening when the guests leave with leftover soups for favors, but the mood hasn’t left the fam bunch at all even as they clean the place up and retire for the night. It is one of the best nights they have spent together as a quirky group and, for the birthday celebrants, it is certainly a great moment they shared in the nearly 13 years they have spent as siblings. Perhaps they should hold another one of this party in the near future, who knows?  Still, the party is a resounding success with their friends and family and it will surely be a conversation starter for weeks to come.

The End

[artificialqueens]

A Head, A Heart, & A Crown {Biadore} Chapter 14 -C*NT

A/N: I’m going to say this in the beginning so that I don’t forget AGAIN, THANK YOU to my wonderful beta trixies-padding for beta'ing this incredibly long chapter for me! This was by far the hardest chapter i’ve written so far, I really struggled with this one because I wanted to get everything just right and I got severely blocked. This is 13,000+ words of the finale, and some stuff afterwards. Witney makes an appearance as well as the tiniest slice of Shalaska. We are nearing the end of this story which is making me so sad. TW: Alcohol consumption, drunk antics. I hope that’s it. Enjoy!

Adore stepped out onto the red carpet for the first time after spending all day getting ready. Amidst the screams and cameras violently flashing bright white lights, she felt excited for the first time in awhile. She posed solo in a short black cocktail dress with silver glitter fireworks decorating the sheer fabric. It had sheer long sleeves and was incredibly flattering on her newly toned body. She didn’t need to wear a breast plate with this dress because it was more chic looking without it, thank god for that. She had decided she would stick with black for the red carpet, and do another more elaborate dress for the actual finale.

“Adore!” Katya called from the end of the red carpet. Adore looked to her left and saw that Katya and Alyssa were waving their hands. Oh right, they needed to take pictures together as the top 3.

Adore smiled and rushed over to them quickly. She grabbed Katya’s hand and she pulled her into a hug. Katya was wearing a short black dress with red rose details, very Katya-esque but still pretty.

“We did it, you fucking patchuli smelling bitch!” Katya exclaimed as she pushed inbetween her and Alyssa. Adore laughed and hugged Alyssa as she admired her short champagne colored sequin cocktail dress.

“I know your gagged bitch.” Alyssa laughed as she saw Adore eyeing the dress.

“Top 3! Over here please!” The photographers yelled. Adore put her arms around the two queens and smiled as the flashes from the cameras became more frequent. The queens posed for a few minutes until they heard someone calling for Alyssa. They turned to the source of the calls and realized it was Laganja and Shangela.

“Damnit LaGanja, this is MY moment!” Alyssa exclaimed as she walked off the red carpet. “I’ll see y'all later!”

Katya looked around awkwardly as she stood next to Adore, looking for someone else to take pictures with. It’s not that Adore and Katya weren’t close, it was that Katya was usually with Tatianna or a group of queens. She eventually spotted Kim Chi and Trixie at the end of the line and gave Adore an air kiss goodbye as she skipped over to her friends.

Adore couldn’t help but feel upset as she watched her sisters pose with their friends, as she was left alone. Phi Phi should’ve been there with her, they would’ve been the main attraction for sure since they were engaged. She continued to blow kisses at the camera as she tried to keep her face neutral. She didn’t want people to know how she was really feeling in this moment. She was feeling like shit, and completley out of place.

“Now it just wouldn’t be a reunion without the top 3 getting a picture together!”

Adore turned and saw Courtney Act and Bianca behind her, grinning like fools.

Adore’s face lit up as she saw her original top 3 sisters waiting for her. Even at her reunion, they were there to save her from embarassment. She ran back towards the beginning of the red carpet, and squeezed her best friends into a group hug.

“We would never let you be alone.” Bianca whispered as she squeezed Adore close to her. Adore smiled and they walked together towards the middle of the red carpet. They could hear the clicking of the shutters again, and the photographers were yelling at them to pose.

Bianca looked amazing as always with a vibrant purple orchid colored dress.

The gown was a one shoulder style, with a purple lace sleeve on the opposite arm and chiffon flowing down her body beautifully. She had paired it with a dirty blonde wig, which she had styled in a sleek half up half down style. She had worn chandelier style amethyst earrings, a more bold look for Bianca.

Courtney was decked out in a typical dress for her shape. She had chosen a roman style yellow and black dress with black cutouts all along her abs and back, accentuating her muscle tone. She had worn a small breast plate, and contoured them beautifully. Her long blonde hair was styled in long sleek curls cascading down her back, a similar style that she had worn at the season 6 reunion. Courtneys drag had always been a mind fuck for Adore. She had always envied Courtney for the beautiful dresses and hair, but now that she had made it big off of drag race she was able to afford the same things.

“Didn’t want to risk tripping in the opening number?” Bianca nodded at Adore’s short black dress. The dress hugged Adore’s thin body beautifully, the long sheer sleeves elongated her thin pale arms. This lucky bitch didn’t even have to wear breasts to look like a woman, her face being painted was all she needed to give a womanly illusion, Bianca thought.

“Oh fuck you bitch!” Adore laughed as she moved a long piece of dark hair away from her eye. Bianca smiled at how polished she looked with her expensive wig and designer dress.

“Give her a kiss!” One of the photographers shouted as the queens regained composure and smiled. Courtney and Bianca squeezed Adore closer inbetween them and pressed their lips to Adore’s cheeks. Adore smiled widely as she felt their lips. This was a recreation of one of her favorite pictures from their season’s finale and couldn’t be more comfortable with her sisters recreating it. She felt Bianca pull her closer by the waist. Adore smiled as she then repositioned herself son that she was closer to her. Courtney raised an eyebrow at Bianca before she realized what she was doing.

“Oh, uh-I think I spy Willam! I’ll see you guys later. Good luck Adore!” Courtney called as she skipped off in her heels.

Bianca gulped anxiously as they posed for a few more photos together, and then walked off the red carpet together when they had enough of the blinding lights.

“I should probably go get ready-” Adore started to walk off nervously as they entered the theatre again. Bianca grabbed her wrist gently and felt electricity at their touch. Adore felt her heart racing. She turned to meet Bianca’s warm brown eyes, surprised yet again by the lack of blue contact lenses.

“Wait. I have something for you.” Bianca pulled her off to the side as some of the queens were returning from the red carpet.

Adore raised an eyebrow.

“A gift?” Adore asked wearily.

Bianca blushed and opened up the clutch of her bright purple purse. She withdrew what looked like a necklace and held it behind her back. Adore tried to look behind her back to see what it actually was, but Bianca shook her head.

“You have to promise me something though queen.” Bianca murmurred as she gripped the necklace.

“What is it?” Adore asked. She was starting to feel nervous at how serious Bianca was getting.

Bianca closed the distance between the two of them, and cupped Adore’s chin. She lifted it gently and stared into her hazel eyes. She could tell that she was hiding pain behind them as she got lost in the brown and gold flecks.

“Don’t let that fucking idiot ruin your night.” Bianca murmurred.

Bianca’s lips were so close, Adore could feel her warm breath on her face. She gazed at the newly plumped lips, coated with a shiny glaze of magenta lipstick. She looked up and fixated on her dark brown eyes that she remembered so well, that she missed so much hoping they would take away the want to kiss her. Adore could see that Bianca still cared so much about her, even after such a long period of them not speaking.

“I wont.” Adore whispered. She gulped as she felt her heart racing faster and faster. She wasn’t suppossed to be feeling this way! She was engaged now. But she just couldn’t help it. Bianca smiled, exposing one of her dimples and pulled her hand away from Adore’s jaw.

“Good. This is for you.” Bianca pulled the item from behind her back, revealing a large diamond encrusted necklace. It had large teardrop shaped diamonds encrusted with smaller diamonds around them. It was held by a silver chain and the cut of the stones caught the light in a way Adore had never seen before.

This necklace must’ve cost her a fortune, she had never even seen Bianca herself wear something so elaborate. It was the most beautiful necklace she had ever seen, and definitley not fake. Real diamonds, all for Adore.

—-

Bianca had rushed her makeup so she could run out to the nearest jewelry store before the finale began. She had a feeling Adore was going to win tonight, so she went to L.A.’s most exclusive jewelry store to find her something that would go perfect with her dress.

“How can I help you miss?” A man in a crisp black suit asked as he strode over to her. He smiled politley as Bianca looked at all of the necklaces on display.

“Yes, hi. I’m looking for something fit for a queen.” Bianca smiled politley at the man who, rose an eyebrow in return.

“What’s your budget?” The man scanned Bianca’s floor length black gown and poinsetta hair piece.

Bianca smiled and tilted her head.

“I have none. Get me the most beautiful exquisite piece you have.”

The man scoffed and shook his head.

“My most expensive piece is $30,000. Are you sure your finances are alligned for that sort of a purchase?” He sneered.

If the tie that they were supposedly filming was the end result, well after taxes that would be perfect..

“Well, I was expecting a heftier bill then that. In comparison to some of the pieces I own, that’s rather-oh god how should I put this: cheap. So yes, i suppose my finances are in order.” Bianca shrugged.

The rather estute man was visibly shaken as he looked at Bianca bewildered.

“M-my apologies miss. I’ll be right back with the piece I have in mind.” He stumbled to the back room and closed the door behind him.

Bianca smirked in triumph. How dare he profile her for being a drag queen and not a “normal” looking person. Not all drag queens were poor men in wigs.

The man finally emerged from the back after a few minutes, no doubt recovering from his encounter with her. Bianca smiled tauntingly as he walked over meekly with a rectangular black velvet box. He smiled as he opened it.

“This is the most exclusive piece we carry here. You will never find another one like it in the world. It was made for well, Americas version of a queen, but Kanye decided to go with a different design. Apparently canary diamonds are more of Kim’s thing.” He laughed as he pushed the box forward.

The necklace had 9 large pear cut diamonds on it, surrounded by small diamonds. There was a big diamond at the center of it, hanging low off of the chain.

It was the most beautiful necklace Bianca had ever seen. She held one of the diamonds in her hand and admired it.

“The clarity is top of the line, the most flawless in the world. You will not get a higher quality diamond, and there are 9 large ones here, surrounded by small- just as a bright diamonds.” He gushed.

“I’ll take it.” Bianca responded. It was perfect, especially since it was meant for the trashiest family that Adore loved to watch. She gave the man her credit card and was glad she had transfered her savings over to her checking account. It would drain everything she had. But for Adore, it was worth it. Even if Adore was the solo winner, Bianca didn’t care that she spent her last dime on her.

Bianca walked out of the jewelry store with a stupid grin on her face. She had grown very close to Adore after their season of drag race, and after all of the tours promoting season six on the road. They were set to go overseas for the first time this summer, which Bianca was super excited about.

She had decided that she would tell Adore how she felt tonight, as soon as she got back.

—

She skipped back into the theatre, smiling as she saw Adore and Courtney sitting in the dressing room sipping on some water.

“Hey, where have you been? You just missed the news!” Courtney exclaimed as she got up and hugged Bianca. Bianca gripped her bag with the necklace in it and smiled.

“What news?” Bianca asked grinning.

Adore shifted nervously and got up from her seat.

“I have a boyfriend.” Adore said.

—

“It’s beautiful. But Bianca I can’t accept this…” Adore trailed off. Her eyes were filling with tears. No one had ever thought to buy her something so beautiful and expensive. A lot of people didn’t see Adore as that, not even her own family did.

Bianca grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

“Adore, this is for you. I’m not taking no for an answer.” Bianca ordered. “Turn around.”

Adore stared at Bianca for a moment in disbelief and then did what she was told. She felt Bianca’s hands brush against her neck as she laid the necklace on her chest. The metal was cold on her exposed skin, causing goosebumps to form.

Bianca clasped the necklace shut, and Adore felt the weight of the diamonds on her chest for the first time. She had never felt so expensive and luxurious in her life.

“Do you like it?” Bianca asked worridely. She had never seen Adore wear a necklace like this, so she wasn’t sure if it was her style.

Adore clutched the diamonds close to her as she opened up her iphone camera to look at it. It amazingly, went with the dress she was wearing, adding a more sophisticated element to the look.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” Adore’s voice shook as she turned to Bianca, still holding the diamonds in her hand.

“You’re welcome queen. You’re a star, you deserve the best.” Bianca flashed her brilliant white smile and rubbed Adore’s shoulder. “I’ll let you go, you probably have to change in a few minutes.”

Adore looked at Bianca feeling a swell in her heart that she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

“Thank you. I’ll see you out there B.” Adore winked.

She turned around and started walking towards the backstage area. She was feeling butterflies in her stomach as she left. Bianca had made her feel like she was worth a million dollars, which is something she had never felt in her life.

Adore never thought she would feel this way, she had kept to the grungy dirty aesthetic because she had never felt like she was worth it to wear expensive gowns and jewels. She always felt like she was trying too hard when she had tried being a pageant queen. She gave up, and just decided to go with what she thought best described her.

What was she going to do? Phi Phi was gone, she had no idea where she had went and now she was feeling confused about her feelings. Bianca just made her feel the happiest she’d felt in awhile, something Phi Phi hadn’t been doing. But she was engaged now, what if breaking it off caused a huge scandal? What if she did go back to Bianca? It wouldn’t be the best publicity for her eiether.

She sighed as she entered the dressing room to go change into her second outfit. She would just have to push these feelings aside for now.

—–

“What dress are you wearing girl?” Alyssa asked Adore and Katya as she pulled her gown off of the rack. She had her blonde wig piled to one side and teased incredibly high. It was a beautiful gold dress, with a sheer panel on the side with gold flowers embroidered into it. A soft gold grecien neckline completed the look.

“Shit, that is beautiful.” Adore breathed as she touched the liquid gold fabric. It was a soft satin from what it appeared.

“Bitch this is some Zuhair M- something that I can’t pronounce. But are you gagging bitch?!” Alyssa yelled as she jumped up and down in place. Adore and Katya laughed at her as Alyssa unzipped her dress and started putting it on.

“My other dress was that brand! Here, let me get mine out of the garment bag, I’ll show you.” Adore ran to the other rack that was placed on the other side of the room, where her gown was concealed in a white opaque bag. Katya started fumbling with her garment bag as Adore came back to the other side of the room.

“This one is mine, I kinda wanted to match my dress from the season 7 finale.” Katya grinned, as she pulled out an all black and gold chevron printed dress. It was a fitted gown, completley decked out in sequins that shimmered beautifully in the light. The neckline had a loose fringe of fabric draped over the breast area, accentuating the shoulders. It reminded Adore of a Bianca dress but with Katya’s style.

“I love that too!” Adore exclaimed holding her garment bag close to her chest. It was starting to get heavy in her arms as she kept shifting the dress from side to side.

“Bitch, I still wanna see yours!” Alyssa yelled impatiently as she smoohed out the fabric on her gold gown.

Adore unzipped the bag, revealing a powder blue satin empire gown. The shoulder straps were the same as her season 6 finale dress, resting low on her shoulders with a sweetheart neckline and fitted bodice. The fabric was all satin and fell down beautifully, with lace panels with darker blue glitter sewn in strategically to the skirt to make it appear fuller. It was the most beautiful dress that she had ever owned, let alone wore. She felt like a princess in it, and now the necklace that Bianca had given her went perfectly with it.

She heard Alyssa sharply inhale as she witnessed the dress out of the garment bag. Katya gasped and walked over, touching the lace panels.

“This is fucking incredible.” Katya breathed as she studied the full length gown.

“Girl, you gonna outshine us. I’m not even joking bitch!” Alyssa exclaimed as she gasped at the dress. She walked up and touched the satin bodice and felt the fabric.

“And that necklace that you’re wearing right now will go perfectly with it!” Katya said excitedly.

Well that was a change. Usually Adore was the odd one out, looking like a grunge mess at the club. This time she felt like she fit in wth the crowd, and might even stand out in a good way. She smiled at the dress happily and twirled around holding it. Classy wasn’t usually her thing, but maybe tonight she could make it work. She gripped the diamond necklace and smiled at herself in the mirror.

———–

“Please welcome to the stage, the cast of Ru Paul’s Drag Race All Stars Season 2!” Michelle exclaimed, her voice booming throughout the theatre.

The curtains opened and revealed the queens, all but one since Phi Phi did not show up.

“First up, we have Coco Montrese!”

Coco smiled and waved at the crowd, wearing a short gold sequined dress and long wavy caramel colour wig.

She strutted and posed, letting the audience drink her in, and walked back to her place on stage.

“Next up, our own thick and juicy Roxy Andrews!”

Roxxxy was wearing a long gold dress, complete with thousands of Swarovski crystals. It was blinding under the stage lights but reminded Adore of Rihanna’s infamous crystal dress that exposed her breasts.

Roxxxy blew an air kiss to the crowd before she exited the runway.

“Her basements have flooded, here’s Ginger Minj!”

Ginger was wearing a long red satin dress with platinum blonde hair styled in an up do. Very classy, southern style: a typical look for Ginger but still beautiful.

“She’s had it, officially: Detox!”

Detox was wearing a beautiful short curly purple wig and a long black mermaid dress. She was cinched to the gods and looked oh so right.

“To see you with them hands, Tatianna!”

The crowd roared as Tatianna appeared in a long pale blonde wig, paired with a long purple latex dress. Tatianna was definitley the fan favorite of this season, the crowd was the loudest so far for her.

“Next we have our favorite state: Alaska!”

Alaska was wearing a nude tumpet style dress that was fitted to her curves and padding. Her platinum blonde hair reached the sky in a sleek half up half down style. She looked great and also had a large applause.

“And finally we have our top 3! Adore Delano, Alyssa Edwards, & Katya Zamolodchikova!”

The crowd went crazy as the three of them stepped on the runway. Adore smiled in awe as she held the skirt of her dress as she walked.

That’s when Bianca saw her from backstage, on the flat screen tv in the dressing room.

Adore grinning and waving at her fans in a beautiful expensive looking floor length gown. The light blue satin brought out the cool tone in her skin and accentuated the dirty blonde waves that rested over her collarbone and along her back. The necklace glittered in the stage lights with every move she made. Bianca was hopelessly fixated on her, she took her breath away time and time again.

“You’re gawking, you know.”

Bianca turned around and saw Jinkx, standing there with a drink, smirking.

“Shut up. You didn’t see anything.” Bianca muttered, sipping out of her own drink not taking her eyes off of the tv.

“She’s engaged…” Jinkx warned.

“I’m well aware.” Bianca grumbled. She really wished it wasn’t the case. She rolled her eyes and took another sip of her drink before setting it down on her station.’

“Do I sense jealousy?” Jinkx asked curious.

“Jealous of that idiot? Please. They aren’t going to last.” Bianca scoffed.

“Are you sure about that?” Jinkx asked wearily.

Bianca sighed as Adore and the other two queens walked back to their place on the stage. The camera was loving Adore, which was always a good sign. Ru was set to make his dramatic appearance any second now.

“I’m not.” Bianca confessed.

What if Adore really did end up marrying that asshole? I mean, would she really after Jaremi abandoned her like this? It was one of the biggest moments of her life, especially if she won.

“Between you and me, I don’t see it lasting. Don’t lose hope.” Jinkx murmurred.

Bianca smiled as her red headed sister tried to comfort her. It very well could last though, especially if Adore was madly in love with him. But based off of everything that had happened today, it didn’t seem like she was happy with him. Maybe Bianca would finally have a second chance.

“Thanks.”

The two watched in silence as Ru appeared on stage and greeted the queens and the audience.

“Are you nervous about crowning her?” Jinkx asked.

Bianca shrugged.

“I’m not gonna lie and say I’m not. I’m more nervous about dropping that crown though, its worth a fortune.”

Jinkx rolled her eyes, displeased with the generic comedic answer Bianca had given her. Bianca always built up a wall if she was starting to feel uncomfortable, old habits die hard.

“Tonight, one of the queens could not make it. To that I say ‘choices’!” Ru smiled at the camera as the audience gasped. Of course, the next frame showed Adore, who’s face was surprisingly composed despite the embarassment.

“I can’t believe he would fucking embarass her like this.” Bianca growled as she clenched her fists.

Jinkx shook her head in agreement.

“I know, it’s not right. Our girl is holding it together though at least.” Jinkx smiled optimistically.

Our girl? No she’s my girl, Bianca thought.

“You know, she really was in love with you.” Jinkx whispered.

“If that were the case we would be together.” Bianca said sadly.

“Not necessarily. She was in love with you for two years; one of which you were with Jason. She wasn’t going to overstep that boundary. She loved you Bianca. She wanted to work things out with you.”

“Then why didn’t she?!” Bianca raised her voice, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Okay, take it down a notch honey. Because you let her go. She thought this was what you wanted.”

“There’s an old saying that goes: ‘If you love someone you let them go, if they come back they were always yours, if they don’t they never were.’” Bianca shrugged.

“So you thought she would come back.” Jinkx realized wide eyed. Her heart was breaking for the older queen. Adore was engaged, which basically meant that it wasn’t likely that she would ever come back to her.

But Bianca had seen the emptiness in Adore’s eyes when she stared at Jaremi. The hollows of her cheeks more prominent then ever from all of the stess. Love wasn’t suppossed to suck everything out of you, it was suppossed to nourish you and your soul. Adore was never like that when they were together, granted they were only together less then a week but still. Bianca would’ve made sure she never would’ve gotten that hollow look in her eyes.

Maybe there was still a chance, even if it was small it was what Bianca would hold on to.

“Yeah. It’s pathetic, I know.” Bianca muttered as she switched her bracelet to her other wrist. An old habit of hers when she became anxious.

Jinkx stroked her back soothingly as she gave her a hug.

“Adore has always had a thing for you. She probably always will. Don’t forget that.” Jinkx squeezed her and then left Bianca to be engulfed in her own thoughts.

—–

“Here we are kittens. The final three. Who will we be crowning tonight for Ru Pauls Drag Race: All Stars 2? Will it be Adore Delano, Alyssa Edwards, or Katya Zamolodchikova?” Ru said with anticipation. The crown rested on a powder blue pillow atop a pedastol on the side of the stage.

“The winner of RuPaul’s Drag Race All Stars 2, is…”

The queens held hands and pretended to wait in anticipation. They knew Alyssa Edwards would be the first one to be crowned, they were crowning chronoligically by season.

“Alyssa Edwards!”

The crowd clapped and cheered but instead of Ru taking the crown, he smiled as Chad Micheals and Jinkx Monsoon appeared from backstage. They smiled widely at Alyssa as she wiped a tear from her eye.

“Oh my god, you’re crowning me?” Alyssa exclaimed.

“Yes, we thought it’d be fitting for both of us to pass on the Crown to you. You’re representing season 5.” Jinkx smiled.

“And baby, you’re an All Star.” Chad added.

Both of them crowned Alyssa who was overcome with emotion. What a sweet moment, Adore thought.

“Alyssa do you have anything you would like to say?” Ru asked sweetly.

Alyssa was smiling gripping the sceptre in one hand, and trying to balance the crown in her hair with the other.

“My name is Alyssa Edwards, and I am the winner mama!” Alyssa exclaimed.

She smiled as Alyssa pranced down the runway for what might be the first time as the second All Star in herstory.

They finished filming the scene, and then gathered everyone back again to do Adore’s

“Now the winner of RuPaul’s Drag Race All Stars 2, is..”

“Adore Delano!” Ru exclaimed.

The crowd applauded loudly as Adore’s heart beat fast. She turned and mouthed thank you to Ru as she walked forward. She waited for Ru to come up behind her, assuming that it would he her and Chad to crown her, but realized she was wrong when she heard the crowd roar.

That could only mean one thing, Adore realized.

Adore turned around and saw Bianca holding the beautiful crystal encrusted crown in her hands. She put a hand over her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut to stop herself from crying; but it was too late. She heard the crowd go “awww” as she gripped her diamond necklace with her other hand.

“Oh my god!” Adore exclaimed as she felt her body shake. The tears were flowing now, having Bianca crown her was probably one of the most emotional things to happen to her. That truly meant that she would no longer be the only one representing season 6 if she won. Adore would be the new era. That and she knew Bianca always wanted to share the crown with her.

Bianca was shaking as she held the crown in her hands. She couldn’t believe she was doing this, crowning who she believed should have won their season. It was one of the proudest moments of Bianca’s life, being able to give Adore what she deserved. She deserved not just the crown, but everything right in the world as well.

“Well I’m not exactly a god…” Bianca cracked a smile. The audience laughed and Adore cracked a smile through the tears. Bianca stepped forward as Adore smiled nervously waiting for the crown.

“Adore, there is…” Bianca began, but stopped as she started to feel her eyes burn.

Ru looked at Bianca, bewildered as she saw that the usually quick witted queen was at a loss for words for the first time in her career.

This was so emotional for Bianca. She had seen Adore at 23 years old, an inexperienced, poor drag queen from the suburbs of Los Angeles. She hadn’t even had enough money to bring a whole wardrobe with her to their season of drag race.

She had seen Adore doubt herself in some of the challenges, almost have a breakdown multiple times. But everytime she won a challenge or walked a runway, or even lipsynced or sang live, she brought magic to that stage. A kind of magic that Bianca had never seen before in her many years of drag. Not in New York, not in New Orleans, and not even on any season of Drag Race. She had traveled the world, many times over now-and not one queen could match what Adore has.

Now here she was, in an expensive gown, with real hair and gorgeous accessories. Adore had evolved in the most beautiful way possible and Bianca was witness to all of it.

Bianca gulped and looked up at the ceiling to prevent any tears from falling. The stage lights were blinding, but it still worked enough for the moment. She felt Chad rub her shoulder as she sighed and continued.

“Adore, there is not one person that I could ever imagine crowning over you. I am one of the only queens that has seen your growth, your work ethic, and your passion evolve over the last few years. You are the most talented, wonderful queen on this planet. There is no one that will do a better job at carrying on my legacy, and I truly believe that. I really do.” Bianca’s voice shook as she finished. She wiped a tear from her eyelash as she felt the warmth spill over onto her cheeks. Good thing she had sprayed a lot of setting spray tonight.

Adore was sobbing at this point, Bianca had really thought she was a true queen. The only other time she had heard Bianca give a speech this serious was on their season. The fact that she meant so much to Bianca made her heart fill with joy- and confusion all at the same time. Phi Phi had never made her feel this way, never made her feel expensive, or royal, or any of the things that she had felt tonight.

“Damnit, if you win tonight you’re going to ruin my reputation of being a hard-ass.” Bianca laughed as she wiped another tear. Adore giggled as the crowd laughed with them. She mouthed sorry to her and Bianca winked.

“Adore, you are a true All Star. You really are, and you’ve come such a long way.” Chad said as he smiled at the exchange.

Adore thanked Chad and bent down so that him and Bianca could crown her. Bianca and Chad rested the crown on her head, securing it into the lace front wig. Bianca stepped back and watched Ru hand her the sceptre.

“Now, Adore do you have anything you would like to say?” Ru asked.

Adore looked out into the crowd, as she felt the heavy weight of the crown on her head. She stared down at the beautiful matching crystal sceptre as the stage lights beat down on her face. All of the cameras were fixated on her, waiting for her acceptance speech.

“This is for all of the men, women, and everyone in between that feel like they can’t love themselves or make it in life. You can no matter what your background is, as long as you work hard. I’ll do what I can to be that role model for you all. Thank you so much.” Adore said as her voice was cracking.

“My queen, I bow to thee.Now prance darling.” Ru bowed as she held her arm out.

Adore bowed in return and walked slowly down the runway. The crown was incredibly heavy but she knew with the necklace, the elaborate dress, and the sceptre she looked incredible. She went to the end where the crowd was roaring and she twirled. She walked back and caught eyes with Bianca, who was smiling as tears streamed down her face. Adore felt her upper lip tremble, threatening more tears as she saw her so emotional.

Adore looked like the true All Star tonight. The necklace gleamed beautifully in the stage lights as Bianca admired how elegant she looked with the crown and sceptre. Adore was made to win this competition, and if she didn’t end up winning the crown- she still won no matter what.

“Now if you can’t love yourself how in the hell you gonna love somebody else, can I get an amen up in here?” Ru boomed for the second time.

The crowd answered in unison and the music boomed on the giant speakers. The queens crowded around Adore but she went straight to Bianca. She pulled her close to her and squeezed her tight, smelling her spicy powdery perfume in the process.

“Please don’t cry.” Adore whispered as she held her close to her. Bianca sniffled as she rubbed her eye.

“I’m not crying, I just have something i my eye.” Bianca mutterred. They both chuckled, knowing what the real truth was.

“Thank you.” Adore said as she pulled away.

“For what queen? You got yourself this far, it wasn’t me.” Bianca smiled.

“No Bianca, thank you. Thank you for making me believe that I’m-that I’m worth something.” Adore stuttered.

“You are worth more then the universe.” Bianca said. She pulled Adore close and kissed her cheek, holding her waist close to her for an extra few seconds.

Adore felt butterflies invade her stomach as she felt Bianca’s lips brush her cheek. They were so delicate resting on her, she wanted so bad to feel them on her in other places but she pulled away.

Bianca had given her the thing she never knew she was looking for in life, in the matter of a couple of hours: Self esteem. A belief in herself that she didnt know was even possible.

“Come over tomorrow.” Adore said.

“What?” Bianca asked bewildered.

“You said you wanted to catch up with me right? Well come over, we’ll smoke a bowl and order a vegetarian pizza-it’ll be a fucking party!” Adore exclaimed as she started hugging the other queens.

“But what about-”

“He’s going out of town tomorrow.” Adore responded quickly.

Bianca’s eyes widened.

“Well I mean, sure then queen.”

This was not a good idea, she knew it. But Bianca pushed that thought aside.

“Great! Just text me!” Adore called as she was engulfed in hugs from the other queens.

“Wait! Why don’t we just go out tonight?” Bianca called. She was feeling daring. Maybe it was what Adore needed after Jaremi fucked her over.

“Oh fuck yeah! I’m so down. Let’s invite Court too!” Adore yelled back.

The queens finished talking on stage, and they helped Adore remove the crown to re stage it for Katya’s crowning. She handed the sceptre hack to Ru, and the three of them got back into line.

“I think it’s safe to say that Violet will be crowning me.” Katya muttered as she repositioned herself.

Ru went through the speech for the third time, and Violet and Chad appeared on stage for the final crowning of the night.

“Come through Katya!” Violet exclaimed as she saw her friend awaiting the crown.

“Katya, do you have anything you would like to say?” Ru asked.

“I don’t. I’d really just like to stand here awkwardly.” Katya said, lips twitching upwards.

“Oh okay, well in that case I’ll just hold onto this.” Ru answered. The crowd erupted in laughter as Adore watched Bianca from across the stage. What was up with her tonight and being so sentimental? First the necklace, then keeping the fact that she was crowning her from her? She wanted to pick her brain desperatley, but obviously couldn’t do that here. She would just have to do it later.

“No, I’d really like to say thank you for believing in me and giving me a second chance to proove myself. I am a star forever.” Katya said as she smiled.

“My queen, I bow to thee. Now prance darling!”

Katya strutted down the runway and got a fairly decent amount of attention from the audience. The fans loved her, so much that Adore sometimes wondered if she was the new fan favorite. Adore smiled and clapped as her sister worked the runway. Katya was unique and a special talent, very much like Alyssa and now that she was starting to realize it; herself too. The crown would be fit for any one of them in the end.

——-

“God queen you really are a fucking mess.” Bianca huffed as she tried grabbing Adore off of the bar. Adore shook her off and laughed as she took another shot. After they had finished filming the reunion, her, Courtney, Adore, Alaska, Sharon and Willam had all decided to go out and celebrate. Adore had changed into a budweiser tank top and ripped jeans, much more comfortable then a satin gown.

Adore was having the time of her life, dancing on the bar with Courtney. She had already had way too much to drink, which usually happened when all 3 of them hung out again. When you add Willam to the mix, you basically have a rager.

“Where’s Jaremi?” Willam asked as he got up on the bar inbetween Adore and Courtney. Courtney grabbed Willams thighs as they swung back and forth to the beat of the music. He grinded his ass on her as he took another swig of his beer.

“Fuck him, he’s off doin’ who knows what being a fuckin’ loooooser.” Adore slurred as she grabbed another shot glass and let the alcohol burn her throat.

Willam’s lips curled up amused and Bianca raised an eyebrow as she stood with Sharon and Alaska, who were both dancing nearby.

“Are you doing damage control tonight?” Sharon asked wearily as Adore started to dance messily with Willam. Willam was laughing, taking pictures and videos with Courtney and Adore. Well this would be all over Twitter later, Bianca thought.

Bianca took another sip of her cocktail and set it down on a nearby table.

“Maybe. This is pretty mild for her actually.” Bianca commented. Usually Adore couldn’t even speak by this point in the night.

Alaska nodded in agreement and grabbed Sharon’s hand.

“Well, we should probably get going. Thanks for keeping us company, but i’ll let you go be the knight in shining armor.” Sharon winked.

“Believe me I’m no knight in shining armor-”

“Bianca come dance with us!”

The group whipped their head around to see Adore, Courtney and Willam now off of the bar and making their way onto the dancefloor.

Sharon raised an eyebrow at Bianca, who now had a paniced look on her face.

“Thanks Sharon. Bye Alaska.” Bianca muttered as she started making her way towards the middle of the club.

“Bee! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Alaska called as her and Sharon left the club.

“Tonight we’re going to put a throwback song in the mix!” The DJ yelled as he started scratching the records on his spinning machine.

Wild Ones by Flo Rida started playing, a song Bianca had heard a few summers ago and had fell in love with.

She was looking frantically around the dancefloor for any sign of Willam, Adore, or Courtney but couldn’t find them. How did they disappear so fucking fast?!

“I fuckin’ love this song!”

Bianca whipped around as Adore practically yelled that in her ear. She grabbed onto Bianca’s back and hugged her, still bobbing back and forth to the beat.

“Jesus there you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Where’s Willam and Courtney?” Bianca asked.

Adore moved her head to the side motioning towards the edge of the dance floor where they were jumping up and down to the beat of the song. They sure knew how to have fun together, that was one of the things Bianca had envied about Willam and Courtney’s relationship.

“Wanna dance?” Adore asked as she started to whip her long blonde hair back and forth.

“Sure, why the fuck not.” Bianca shrugged. She was feeling pretty good, pretty buzzed but not nearly at Adore’s level.

Almost as if she was reading her mind, Adore passed Bianca her drink.

“Here, I can’t finish this you should have it.” Adore pushed the drink into her hand.

Bianca studied the teal blue drink. It looked as if it had a piece of pineapple in it. She had never seen anything like it before, and she had been to a lot of clubs in her lifetime.

“What the fuck is this?” Bianca questioned.

“The hurricane. Bet you can’t chug it!” Adore laughed as she spun around, clearly way past her limit now.

“Try me bitch.” Bianca growled. She grabbed the drink, pressed her lips to the cup and kept eye contact with Adore as she drained the contents into her body. Adore’s face went from smug to complete shock as Bianca finished the drink and slammed the cup into the trash.

“Holy fuck!” Adore gasped.

“It wasn’t even bad. It didn’t even taste like alcohol!” Bianca exclaimed.

“B, that was literally ALL alcohol. You��re fucking crazy bitch!” Adore yelled excitedly as she grabbed her hand and started dragging her towards the center of the dance floor.

Bianca laughed giddily as she let the younger queen drag her to the center of the dance floor. She could feel the pulsing bass from the music as they neared the edge of the club.

“Let me show you how to dance!” Adore jumped excitedly as she started shaking her ass to the song.

“Bitch, you’ve tried to show me before and it doesn’t work. It’s a lost cause.” Bianca joked. Her vision was starting to get blurry as that drink kicked in. Holy shit, it had been awhile since she had gotten this drunk. That drink sure kicked in fast too. She supposed the 5 beers were catching up with her all at once now.

“Here, just put your hand here and-” Adore had placed Bianca’s hand on her lower back, but she had pulled her close to her.

“I’m goanna need you a lot closer then tha’ queen.” Bianca slurred as they rocked back and forth to the song. She was feeling daring, all inhabitions lost.

Adore smiled big, letting herself feel the warmth of Bianca against her. She looked so good under all of the club lights, hair falling with all of the humidity of the club. Even a drunk mess she was beautiful.

Bianca felt the energy change as she contiuned to dance with Adore. She was feeling more comfortable, allowing her hands to linger on her back, pulling her closer and closer to her. Adore lifted her arms above her head as she shook her head back and forth, flipping her long blonde hair around with it. Bianca could smell the perfume from the hairspray as her hair moved in the club.

Adore winked at Bianca, turned around, and burrowed her ass into her groin. Bianca clenched her fist to her side as she felt blood rush to her dick for the first time in hours. This was so wrong, but she didn’t want to stop her. She continued to dance back and forth trying to keep herself in control as Adore grinded her ass harder into her. Bianca finally gave in, grabbing her long black hair snapping her neck forward.

“What’s wrong?” Adore asked innocently as she spun back around, pulling Bianca back into her.

“You know exactly whats wrong.” Bianca mumbled into her ear. She grabbed Adore’s ass and pulled her further into her chest not breaking eye contact. Bianca was really drunk now, not giving a shit who saw them or about what she did to her. She could barely focus on Adore’s eyes, the room was spinning and her mouth was getting numb.

“I don’t man. Tell me.” Adore laughed as she put her hands on Bianca’s hips. Bianca let out a gasp at the contact and saw Adore smirk. Bianca pulled her close to her chest and kept dancing with her, eyes never leaving the younger queens. They were dark with lust, she could tell even with the shitty club lighting and the room spinning.

“There you are!”

A voice snapped Adore and Bianca out of their little bubble that they had created. Bianca stepped back, almost losing her balance as she grinned at Willam and Courtney.

“Subtle.” Willam dryly commented before he busted out laughing. Adore started laughing hysterically.

“Your laugh sounds like a fucking dying seal!” Adore exclaimed.

“The laugh has to match the mug.” Bianca added, laughing with Adore.

Willam looked between them annoyed, before flipping them off. He took another swig of his beer, raising his eyebrow at Bianca.

“You guys should go before you get yourselves into trouble!” Courtney exclaimed, arm slung over Willam’s shoulder.

“Come on queen, the Australian police is here to take us home.” Bianca slurred as she staggered towards Courtney. Adore laughed as she started following Bianca out of the club. She grabbed Adore’s arm and started dragging her towards the door.

“I’m calling you guys a Lyft!” Courtney said, already opening the app.

“Send it to my house, my baby girl will come crash on the couch.” Bianca wrapped her arm around Adore as she grinned.

“Adore you aren’t going home?” Willam asked confused.

“Well I mean…my house is hella far away. Bianca’s is a lot closer.” Adore slurred.

“Leave my babygirl alone, I’ll kick your ass queen!” Bianca pointed her finger at Willam, who was now looking amused at the two of them.

“Jesus Court, for once you’re the most sober one in the room.” Willam laughed.

“Guys, your Lyft is outside! Tonight was so fun I’ll see you later!” Courtney exclaimed.

“You fucking idiot they’re drunk, Bianca can’t even see! Take them out there and put them in the car!” Willam roared with laughter.

Bianca saw Courtney roll her eyes at Willam and then felt her grab her arm. She led them towards a mercedes that was waiting for them in the front of the club, and helped them get into the car.

“Thanks angel.” Bianca said as she waved goodbye to Courtney.

“Bianca?” Courtney said worridley.

“Yes angel?”

“Watch yourself.” Courtney warned.

[autumn-flick]

The Anointment ~ Chapter Two

Warnings;

Brief nudity, slight cursing

He was glad his father was dead… he honestly was. Nine full months without that damn fleabag coming inside his room at ungodly hours of the morning and waking him up to go running or training or to just… stop sleeping and being lazy. Now, with Liria as Alpha, she didn’t mind him sleeping all the way ‘till the sun was at the highest point in the sky. Then he could sleep an hour or two more, just because he was comfortable in his bed and other wolves were too unimportant to deal with, sleep was better. Sleep was way better. And sleep helped him heal, his leg was mostly healed up… well, no, it was completely healed up. He just like to fake a limp so he could sleep - though it wasn’t working so well after a few months. He still needed sleep! Hell, last night he stayed up till the moon was highest in the sky, why? Because he had been going through his father’s possessions (only just managed to get to it) - trying to find the things he wanted to keep for himself, and just to let you in on a little secret, El was a hoarder and would be a gold digger if he was allowed to mingle with the people outside of the castle… or royal household… but he loved shiny and expensive things and his father had a lot of those things, so… El took them and stashed them away in his room. But, the point was, he had stayed up later than he intended to and he had something to do the next day, yet he couldn’t remember what it was, so he had just removed all of his clothing and fell asleep in the dark, silken sheets and slept until… “Hey, hey, Reyhg… you need to wake up.” He groaned, rubbing his face into the pillows as his arms flexed and his body tensed for a couple of seconds, “Why?” He mumbled in his groggy state, he wanted to fall back asleep, but the chill that ran over his bare buttocks and back made him grope around for the silk sheet that normal rested over his lower back, turns out it was on the back of his calves and he groaned, rolling over a tad before grabbing the sheet and pulling it up to his shoulders, making another noise that sounded akin to a groan. “Because, you are going to Alpha Yelondae’s pups’ anointment.” The voice spoke to him as feet pattered around the room  to supposedly gather things for him to wear. El grimaced under the sheet as his orange eyes revealed himself, the young man groaned rubbed his face with long, bony fingers. His pale skin stood out strangly against the silken covers and the darkened room, but his hair blended in well with the pillow he rested his head upon, his curls spilled over as they were wild and unruly, the length almost reached his shoulders…. And for awhile now, Liria had been bugging him about getting his hair cut shorter. And he thought he would do it… for the babies he didn’t want them freaking out about his hair or pulling on it, as he was to hold one of them in approval… or something, he forgot about what these appointments were about. But it was early (or so he thought) in the morning, he shouldn’t have to think. “What time is it…?” El groaned as he managed to sit up in bed, making sure his private parts were covered properly as he looked over to the… staff person, not servant… servants were unpaid. Staff people were paid, it was like El’s personal nanny. Though he did wish it had been a female, and if it had, his sheet wouldn’t be lying so flat against his lap… so, there were pros and cons to having a male nanny. “It’s time for you to wake up.” This male had a certain sass to his voice that made El’s face scrunch up just slightly, mumbling something under his breath - he then moved to lay back down when a t-shirt was thrown at his face, as well as a pair of black pants, “Get dress, Reyhg, you have a hair appointment.” The sassy man said as he walked the length of the room with the grace of a swan, stopping by the door to observe the sixteen year old with narrowed eyes, “I expect you to be there in five minutes.” Then, the flamboyant male nanny turned away with a toss of his dark blonde hair and strolled away with his chin in the air. Leaving El to gawk a bit at his exit, wondering why the hell Liria thought getting that guy was good idea. The young male sighed, rolling his eyes a tad before he stood up from his bed, strolling over to the window while at the same time, pulling his pants on. Which resulted in a less than graceful struggle across his room, but, he was alone, he didn’t care if he looked like a chicken flapping their wings helplessly as they tried to get off the ground. Once he got his jeans over his skinny legs, he picked the belt off of the chair it was hanging off of and looped it through the jeans and buckled it as he stared out the now open window into the city-like structure they had behind the castle. It was stupid to have the castle in front of the city, but the Light Pack… they arranged battles, that is how it had always… always been. Though there hadn’t been a battle for over fifty decades, El knew that his father had been greatly disappointed when he tried to launch an attack, but it had been canceled by something… El couldn’t remember what it was, but he was grateful that his father hadn’t managed to start something and not be able to finish it - leaving the city and Liria to handle it. He was grateful for his adoptive mother, he honestly was, she was so calm and peaceful… he was curious about her, why was she so calm when she was supposed to be evil? El tilted his head a bit, light muscles coiling under his skin as he raised his hand to tug it through the wild curls, though he only got half way before he winced and pulled his hand away, sometimes, he honestly hated the curls at times. Maybe once he got his hair cut, he would feel better about them. “Reyhgaur, you need to be at your hair appointment, young mister!” El flinched as he turned himself around to see the male nanny glaring in the doorway, sizing the young man up which immediately made the skinny boy feel nervous as he quickly pulled the black shirt over his thin frame, crossing his arms once it was covering his incredibly pale skin, “Alright, I’m going.” El didn’t like this man, he gave the young boy the creeps - only because El wasn’t too keen to be around men after what his father had done to him. Branded him with the name Reyhgaur after his death, trained him for submission, tried to put fear and darkness into him. And… it honestly worked, he was afraid - no, wary, he was wary of most men, at least those that had age over him… he was weird, he knew that, but he would never say it outloud… Once Reyhgaur left his room, he walked down long hallways, thankful for long legs and long strides so he was quick to leave the male nanny behind, he wanted to be along for the hair cut. And it was to be when he was a human… cutting a wolf’s mane was hard, especially for someone who had a sensitive scalp and skin. Though when he got there, he saw that Liria was standing there and talking to the barber, in forming him that she wanted the hair to be cut shorter - like, way shorter than it was now. “Is this a mutiny I sense?” El joked lightly as he walked inside of the room and over to the Alpha, bowing his head just slightly and looking up to the barber, who was female. Soft hands, calming voice and most certainly not a man, he was glad the Alpha took heed of his wariness. Oh yeah, not barber, stylist… he preferred the word barber, but, whatever. The woman, black hair, dark skin and kind eyes, she smiled warmly at the male and motioned to the seat, “Yes it is, Reyhgaur, your mother says she want is short, what do you think?” She asked as she slowly started to bunch his hair up, showing off the rather sharp cheekbones he often kept hidden, but he assumed with the new haircut, he would be showing them off a lot more now - and he didn’t exactly know how he felt about that. “Shorter, I guess, but… not short enough to where you can’t see my curls.” El finally decided after a couple of seconds of silence, a light smile warmed his face as the woman smiled back, “Perfect!” The woman chirped, then she got to work on the boy’s mess of curls. It took an hour and thirty minutes, but once she was finished with him, she turned him back around to face the mirror to see what had once been a shoulder length mop, was now a well contained, loose curls around his head - resting over his ears with slight bangs that swept to the side, the new him… a smile pulled over his lips as he ran a hand through his hair, finding his fingers slid much easier through it, he really liked the new look. “Thank you, Eryn, I really like it.” El smiled as he slipped from the chair and brushed his hands down his pants, his hands were sweating because there was a pretty girl and he did not want to embarrass himself, which he probably was by now… just staring at her even after she had said “you’re welcome”. “Uh… would you like to hang out s-some time?” He stuttered, trying to hide the color in his cheeks as he looked down at the ground, feeling even more warmth in his face as she chuckled a bit awkwardly, and he then rushed to save her, “D-don’t feel like y-you have to because I am prince… j-just…” “Hun, you’re a bit too young for me, maybe in a couple years, we’ll see.” She chuckled, not at all afraid of the young prince, more amused at his blush and stutter. Liria had left the room a while ago, figuring her ‘son’ would be fine on his own… she needed to do something. She had to finish the spell… “Intertwine their fates, bring peace to the land - how ever you see fit.” The deep red hybrid whispered to the air as her arms cross in a dance above her head as read smoke danced from her fingertips, laced with gold. She repeated the movements with her arms a couple of times as the smoke gathered above her to form a shape and slowly became solid - then, it settled itself into Liria’s hands, presenting itself as a necklace with a trillion shaped ruby in the middle. The auburn wolf smiled slowly as she held it in her paws, “Very well.” ~~A Couple Hours Later~~ “Oh, Reyhg, just, let me fixed this curl.” Liria said as she reached for his hair, wanting to adjust his hair, she was almost as tall as him, standing at five foot, six inches, and him standing at five, eight, she nearly managed to snag his curls, to which he responded by moving his head away and chuckling, “Mom, no.” Yes, he still called her ‘mom’, he kinda had to… just because he didn’t want her to know… It would break her, he was sure of it. His adoptive mother pulled her hands back and frowned, making the young male chuckle as he crossed his arms, then lowered himself on bent legs so she could reach his hair and fix it, “That’s my boy.” Liria said affectionately as she fixed his hair to her liking and patted his cheek. “Your father would hate us for what we are doing.” Liria said after her smile had slipped from her pale face, yellow eyes gazing at the ground with a sigh falling from her mouth - she shook her head. It had been awhile since his death, they didn’t talk about El’s father much, or at all, just subtle mentions of him and what he wanted to do with future plans for the pack, El never felt any regret or remorse… he knew that was the one dark part of him, but he had no idea of how to rid himself of it… “He’s rolling in his ashes, mom, he’ll get over it in a thousand years.” El hummed as he stood straight and shoved his hands in his pockets, she chuckled before wrapping an arm around him. “I know he will.” Donned in white, light greys and golds, the Alpha and her son left the castle along with a couple of elder shamans (well, not exactly shamans, more like priests they stole from a church) for blessing upon the children, guards followed at a distance without saying a word. “I don’t understand why we have horses and they get elk.” El muttered to himself as he stroked along his horse’s shoulder, a large, heavy set and muscular, friesian stallion… called Utyca. It was an odd name, but, Uncle Eddie named the friesian. Horses were great, he honestly thought that they were, but, elks… come on. If he had the choice to ride a horse or an elk? He’d pick an elk, why? Because he was a boy and he enjoyed running around on overgrown deer. Or, he figured he would, but he has never ridden an elk before. Maybe they were deer? Well, all he knew is they had huge antlers and often stood around five foot at the shoulder. They sounded like intense battle creatures, but, he figured he would never know. El made a soft noise under his breath as he pulled himself atop of Utyca, all of the horses had pure white tack with decorative gold tassels and designs, the manes were braided as well as the tail and their beautiful hides were shining in the sun. Must’ve taken weeks to get the damn horse to shine, and it was all for pups that wouldn’t even remember this day. Well, he just had to tolerate it for today, probably sit in the back and just observe what was going on, he didn’t actually think to mingle with the Light Pack, which he would think that half the kingdom would be there for the pups anointment. Anointment being the old shaman, blind as hell and didn’t even know the genders of the pups - but because of the visions that the gods gave him, he was going to choose an heir for the pack, no influence from anyone! He was also mute, so… The Dark Pack’s Shaman was actually a high ranking military officer that was in his mid-fifties and done his job as a guard or fought in an army or something like that, also, if you couldn’t tell - El doesn’t really pay attention to his classes. Oh, he knew Liria would shape him up, however, after all, he was next in line to be king. Provided no-one assassinated him. And it wasn’t really kingship, or whatever… even though you actually did hold all the power. You could even order an execution on some random person, but, probably until he is thirty, he’d have some kind of military official making sure he didn’t do anything stupid. That or Liria would be watching over him, which he preferred her, she was more kind and motherly, someone that he would listen to if convinced properly. The Light and the Dark only lived about five miles away from each other, so, with the horses at a smooth canter, it didn’t take too long for them to arrive. And when they did, they were greeted by the guards at the edge of the territory, now, El is going to explain how the Light and Dark were different, besides one being evil and one being good in each others senses. The dark pack had a huge, huge population - because, over the decades, there has been a mass amount of coupling and not many wars, therefore, their population grew and they learned the ways of the humans. They learned how to build, how to make stuff. Of course they stole supplies from the humans, and over the years, the kingdom grew into a huge ass city… The ‘castle’ was built right on the edge of a deep ravine - the city was built behind the cattle, which was also surrounded by a wall. The Light pack was much more simple, log cabins or tepees. There was a mountain… or a large rock formation, that the royal family, servants and others would live. They didn’t have any fences, but had guards stationed around the entire camp… area. The Light pack had around seven hundred wolves and counting. The Dark pack had two thousand and counting. So, if there was ever an attack, determined by the number of people - the Dark pack would surely win, but numbers do not always determine who will win the fight, strategy and tactic, not just brute force. El would one day, try to tell the military that, he would rearrange the ranks, position to less wolves on the military ranks. He teach them strategy and not just kill anything in sight. Those were brutes and he did not want brutes in his army. “El, look sharp!” Liria hissed as they got through the guards - pulling her horse over to his, she was quick to pass something into the young man’s hands, “Give it to the pup they choose to be alpha.” El looked down at the red velvet box and ran his thumb over it, it was some kind of jewelry, he knew that. But what for? Were they supposed to bring gifts? Was he going to say this was from Liria and not him? Eh… oh well, he didn’t care. The young man shrugged to himself, standing up in the stirrups, he placed the box in his pocket and then sat down once more as they headed to the royal cave mountain. ~ It had been two hours since they arrived, the anointment hadn’t happened yet and El was getting rather flustered, he wanted to leave, he was sure he had better things to do! And all the while, he had stayed from the pups as everyone ogled them under the close eye of their mother and multiple guards, most of them had moved on to the food and… well, just to pass the time, he figured he’d give the four a peek. They were all two months of age, eye’s open, fluffy and whimpering and whining as they were kept in a pen, separated from each other, but close enough to be heard and seen. “Hello, prince Reyhgaur.” A familiar voice spoke, making him raise his head up, a soft smile toyed with his face as he bowed before the mother and the Alpha. “Yelondae, I am glad you took my advice.” He said softly, raising his head, seeing how beautiful the mother was as she was dressed in a beautiful gown of light blue, white and gold. A beautiful headset covered her and only seemed to bring out her violet eyes even more. “I did.” She nodded, Yelondae, though clothed in a dress, was in her hybrid form, probably so her pups would recognize her easier. “Would you like to meet them?” She asked him, making El a little bit nervous, but he nodded. He made sure to keep his shoulders low, his posture relaxed, knowing how protective and dangerous a new mother could be. She took him to the first born, a light grey male with white accents, tan softly coated the edges of his fur - his eyes were a light blue that peered up with curiosity. He was ridiculously adorable, a smile falling to El’s face, “Hey, little guy - what’s his name?” “Helcuron.” Yelondae responded, then ushering him to the next one, second born son, fourth child. He was the smallest and had a mix of dark grey and light brown fur, dark accents covered him - he had dark green eyes that blinked open for a second, then closed once more as he fell back to his sleep. “Geryarl.” Next one was a slender female, medium grey with tan accents and a white nose, she too had dark green eyes like her brother. “Telousa.�� The last one was a dark brown female, tan accents with tan linding her back and ears, she had dark blue-green eyes that stared up at her mother and the strange man, she stood up slowly and walked over to them, whining slightly for her momma, who reached down and stroked her ear, “Trystellia.” Elgahbar slowly smiled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the velvet covered box, “Here, this is for her, Trystellia.” El then opened it to present the necklace that his adoptive mother had encased. Completely and totally forgetting that it was supposed to be for the future alpha… it just felt like it belonged to the little female. Yelondae smiled and accepted the box, taking out the necklace and at once, putting it around Trystellia’s neck, the pup sniffed at it for a second before ignoring it and continuing to whine for attention from her mother, “Thank you, Reyhgaur… it means a lot.” Her thanks was cut short, however, when a guard walked up and quietly told her that it was time for the anointment. Which was El’s que to leave, he smiled a bit and bowed in respect before taking off to join everyone else. The pups were held by the servants in the house, wiggling frantically and calling for their momma as the shaman stepped up to each of them, waved his hand in front of them and then stepped back. He raised his hand and pointed to Telousa. Declaring her as the new Alpha. And only then, did El realise what he had done.