#Oh cheek kiss mark and black nails cuz I said so

[accelerandy15]

I don't need your boring instructions. Who cares about expectations? I'll just fight head-on.

[vixenpen]

High Sex (Dabi x Black Reader)

(Hoevember Day 15)

(Tons of AAVE this y/n is hood coded and obviously black)

You kicked open the rickety door of Dabi’s basement room in the new hideout and slumped down the stairs.

The space was dimly lit from the singular, dirty lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. Candlelight flickered against the walls, and the air was thick and cloudy with the scent of burning herb.

Erykah Badu’s sweet and smoky vocals pumped from a small speaker beside him on the low set bed.

“Come in, I guess.” Dabi chuckled. “You look like shit.

“Ya mama.” You shot back, smirking.

You started to climb on his bed, when Dabi stopped you.

“Yo, take that shit off before you even think of getting in this bed.” Dabi nodded at your bloodied clothes.

You rolled your eyes. “Ain’t nobody worried about this raggedy ass bed.”

“I am, and you are too the way you’re lookin’ at it right now,” he disrupted himself to toke the blunt, “unless the bed isn’t the only thing that’s interesting you.” He smirked.

“Calm down, Walking Dead. You ain’t got nothing I want.” You gave another eye roll.

Thank god your brown skin hid the flush burning your cheeks. Dabi was propped up against the pillows wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs that showed off the patch work of his burned and smooth skin. The gold surgical staples complimented his turquoise eyes, and his black hair was damp. In short he looked fine as hell, and he was right.

His smirk widened. “Do it slow, you know I like that shit.”

“Fuck you, Dabi.” You tossed your bloodied shirt at his face making him laugh.

Wriggling out of the leather pants of your costume you stood before him in nothin but a skimpy lace thong and matching strapless bra. Dabi’s gaze drank in your curves greedily.

You crawled along the bed until you collapsed at his side, and snatched the blunt from him between your long decorated nails.

Dabi had been into you since the moment he recruited you for the league, and he’d be lying if he didn’t say his attraction wasn’t at least part of the reason he’d pushed so hard to get you to join.

“So, How many families are gonna be missing a member tonight?�� He asked, watching your juicy ass jiggle as you swung your feet in the air.

You shrugged, exhaling the smoke in his face. “Just a couple of lowly heroes. Nobody worth an obituary.” You shot back nonchalantly.

That was another thing he liked about you. You could be a cold bitch when you wanted to and he loved it.

“Then we should celebrate. Let me rub your booty.”

You snorted. “Who is that a celebration for? Me or you?”

“Both of us, kitten,” he laughed. “You look like you could use a good dick d-I mean rub down.”

You shot him a look and took one more drag of the waning blunt before sitting up.

“Sir, the only reason I’m here is because you have one of the only other showers in the building. It’s either this, or get spied on by Shiggy while I attempt to use his.

“Aww, babe,” Dabi touched his heart, pulling a fond expression, “so you chose to get spied on by me while you use my shower? I’m touched, y/n.”

A mellow high had begun to cloud your mind, making you drag yourself out of Dabi’s warm bed before it settled in your bones and rendered you immobile.

“What can I say?” You tossed out over your shoulder. You put a switch in your hips that had the poor man gawking shamelessly as you padded across the cold floor to his bathroom. “You’re the lesser of two evils.” With a wink, you shut yourself into his small bathroom.

You sighed as the hot water broke through the sweat on your skin. Your braids were going to be frizzy after this, but who gave a damn. It just felt so good to get clean.

Between the high and the steam you were so lost in the sensations that you didn’t hear the door click open.

“Need some help?”

“Shit, Dabi!” You jumped as he came up behind you.

He chuckled as his arms snaked around your waist and pulled you against him.

“Damn I love the way you say my name. Wish I could tell you my real one so I could make you scream it.”

You shot him a look over your shoulder. “Oh it’s like that, huh?”

“Yeah,” You could feel his long dick twitching against your ass crack and bit your lip. “It’s like that.”

Fuck.

“You couldn’t make me scream even if you tried, Walking Dead.”

“Ohhh, kitten,” he practically groaned against your neck before sinking his teeth into the sensitive flesh. “That’s the third time you fucked up.”

You moaned as his pierced tongue slithered along the marked spot.

“The third?” You mumbled absentmindedly.

“Mmhmm.” His long fingers gripped at your curvy thighs before pressing against your sensitive clit.

All of a sudden, he had your thick thighs wrapped around his slim waist as he slammed you against the shower wall.

“The first,” he kissed your collarbone, “was bringing your fine ass in here in that tight ass leather outfit,” he pumped his length along your slick folds. “The second was leaving this door unlocked,” now he was slurping on your hard nipples, sending a tingle through your body.

“Fuckkk, Dabi,” you sighed as your body hummed with need.

“The third,” his blood shot, turquoise eyes fixed on to you, “is that little smart mouth of your. Cuz now I have to fuck you up.”

With that he slammed you down on his dick so hard his balls slapped.

“Ahh! Fuck!”

Dabi didn’t relent, as your cunt flexed around his length, he bounced you up and down squeezing your ass to keep control.

Every slam of his manhood into you, made stars blur in your vision. Your head felt hazy and empty of anything other than the mind numbing pleasure Dabi was assaulting you with.

“Fuck, fuck, shit! Oh my godddd, Dabi. Ahaaa~”

“What’s that, y/n? Hmm? You said you want more?”

If possible he fucked you faster, and harder. His manhood digging deep into you until the pleasure almost hurt. His abs flexed with effort and every thrust made his pelvis brush against your clit.

You could barely breathe between your screams and gasps of ecstasy. Your dark eyes remained fixed on Dabi’s pleasure filled gaze.

“God, y/n,” he half grunted, half chuckled, “you feel so fucking good. Fuck!”

If you could speak, you would say the same, but as it stood between the bud inn your system, the steamy heat clinging to your flesh, and your breathless moans, you were practically slipping into unconsciousness.

Instead, you dug your nails into Dabi’s back, not caring about the scared skin and dug your nails in as your pussy dribbled with desire.

“Don’t stop.” You sobbed into his ear, every pump of his cock making your words stutter. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, pleeease don’t stop.”

“Fuck,” he sighed, eyes rolling back as his own ecstasy washed over him. “Trust me, baby girl, I won’t.”

He slowed down the pace, enjoying the creaminess of your textured walls slurping at his dick.

He rolled his hips and pressed a kiss against your plump lips with each stroke.

“Dabiii, oh god, pleas-“

“Sshhh,” he kissed you again. “Come on, y/n. Come on this dick. Come all over it, baby.”

He was determined to drag your orgasm out of you slow and hard.

Your nails snagged into a bit of the unburned skin on his back and you dragged your long nails against it.

“Ahhh! Shiiit! Dabi!”

Your scream choked out into a whine as the orgasm finally exploded through out you. Your pussy spasmed as the euphoria washed over you. The sensation was only enhanced by your previous high and seemed to roll over you in endless waves that made your legs quake around Dabi’s waist.

With a growl of his own, Dabi pulled out to bust his load on your stomach.

By the time the two of you were done, you were practically melting into each other.

“Damn...” you muttered, your head collapsing back against the shower wall.

“Damn is right.” He replied, face buried between your breasts. He peered up at you, wearing a cocky smirk. “Looks like I do have something you want after all, babygirl.”

[allforhader]

Our Little Secret

Officer Slater x (F) Reader

Requested by: @berkmansbabe

Warnings: Langauge, Some Smut

“Hey, you finally fucking show up” Y/N laughs at the three finally joining her at the park.

“Well unlike you, we have a schedule that isn’t in our control” Seth states sitting on the picnic table on the bench while Y/N sat on the table itself.

Fogel sat on the other side of her with a nervous smile. Little does she know that he likes her. But Y/N only saw the three as friends, nothing more.

“I gotta get a new lighter if we’re gonna pass this shit around” Y/N smiles twiddling with a joint container before getting up. “Anybody wanna go to the liquor store on the corner with me or am I walking solo?”

“I’ll go!” Fogel got up from the table stumbling a bit making Seth and Evan groan. They know he likes her but won’t say anything about it.

“Alright. I’ll get drinks while I’m there as well. I know the owner” Y/N smiles walking with Fogel to the liquor store.

Y/N opens the door for them as the jingle of the bell caught the owner’s attention.

“Y/N!”

“Sup pops” Y/N smiles high fiving the owner over the counter leaving Fogel confused.

“Is he your actual...?”

“No my good man, no I am not. And thank god for that one” the owner laughs as Y/N rolls her eyes going to get what she came there for.

Fogel waited with the owner while Y/N not only went in the back to snag a few drinks without pay cuz the owner is used to it with her, but grab a lighter.

“McLovin’??”

The owner’s attention draws to the two officers stepping in as he quickly grabs his permits and such.

“Oh hey! What are you doing here?”

“Beer run my guy” Micheals pays his shoulder. “Then yknow. The usual with cops on a break”

Fogel nodded pretending he knew what he meant.

“So what are you doing here McLovin? Not here for alcohol yeah?” Slater laughs with Micheals.

“No I’m here wi—“

“Y/N NOW YOU GOTTA BUY THE LIGHTER IF YOU’RE GOING TO USE IT” The owner yells as Y/N steps into the isle to the door lighting the joint already before freezing when she noticed the cops.

“I am gonna buy it old man...just uh. Who called the cops?”

“No one ma’am, we’re off duty” Micheals smiles as Slater locked eyes with Y/N while she took a hit with a smirk on her face.

“Take a picture it’ll last longer” Y/N laughs catching Slater off guard.

“OH! Yeah. Officer Micheals. Officer Slater. This is Y/N. She’s who I came here with”

“Oh is she a lucky lady?” Micheals teases while Slater straightens himself still getting a longing look from Y/N.

“Nope. I am very...single” Y/N smiles handing the owner the money she owes for the lighter. “Now, we are out.” She grabs Fogel’s arm pulling him out of there as the two watched them. “Later officers...”

“See yeah...”

“A college girl. He’s aiming high” Micheals laughs going to the beer with Slater.

“College?”

“Yeah man. You didn’t seem the college lanyard hanging out of her pocket?”

“No...but did you get the name?”

A few days went by and Y/N sat outside of her class’s building finishing up a note from the previous class when a few whispers caught her attention along with a pair of black boots meeting hers.

“Well. I would ask where you get your boots but I don’t have to now” Y/N smiles looking up at Slater. “Now how did you know where my college is?”

“Officer Micheals has a great eye for detail” Slater points to her lanyard now hanging out of her backpack. Y/N laughs a little smiling.

“Anything I can do for you officer?”

“I uh, wouldn’t mind taking you out on a date”

“Oh?” Y/N smiles closing her notebook and leaning forward. “How about coffee first? See if you actually like me...cuz I really like you”

One coffee later...leading to four dates later...and they can official say they’re dating. Or well. Keep it to themselves.

“Sneaking off somewhere ma’am?” Slater smiles leaning against his cop car as Y/N had just reached the parking lot to her complex.

“No sir, my boyfriend awaits at his place. Or so I thought” Y/N smiles walking over to Slater and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Are you off?”

“You don’t see Micheals with me now do you?” Slater brought her close before kissing her lovingly.

“So, the cop car being here?”

“Mm. That one thing you told me”

“Oh?”

In an empty parking lot, Y/N sat on the hood of the cop car smiling at Slater. He likes to admire for a moment and so does she.

“You gonna keep standing there looking pretty?” Y/N smiles grabbing the sides of his shirt the second he got closer to her.

“I’m admiring the beauty here, love” Slater smiles kissing her lovingly before getting more heated.

Y/N pulls away a bit to get her shirt off and Slater instantly planted his lips on her neck enjoying himself. She ran her hands through his hair smiling more.

“You going to make me feel good baby?”

“Mmm...yes yes I am”

A few moments later...

Y/N gripped onto Slater’s back with her nails and her legs around his hips simply enjoying themselves in the backseat of his cop car. He made sure not to go too hard with his thrusts since her bare back is against the door. But she didn’t care and begged for him to go faster.

“Slate I—“ Y/N moans getting close as Slater kept an arm wrapped around her waist and one pressed against the window while he thrusted.

“I’m almost there” Slater got rougher shaking the car.

“Kiss me, kiss me baby” Y/N begged grabbing his face the second he looked toward her pressing her lips against his.

Slater deepen the kiss the moment he climaxed along with Y/N both moaning into each other’s mouths. He parts from Y/N kissing her cheek and neck before calming down.

“Jesus Christ....”

“Hm?”

“God you’re amazing...” Y/N pants laying back as Slater opens the door behind him knowing no one is out there those late slowly pulling out.

“You’re the amazing one here” Slater took a deep breath saying so, pulling the condom off and tying it off.

Y/N brought herself up taking Slater’s shirt and putting it on before seeing the mark ups.

“Well you truly like to show that I’m taken” Y/N laughs talking about the hickeys on her thighs, neck, and chest.

Slater laughs putting his pants back on before handing her her panties and shorts. “I want everybody to know you’re mine” he smiles sliding back in and kissing her once more. “You wanna head back to yours or mine?”

“Mine, since I’m hanging out with the three stooges tomorrow” Y/N says with a frown knowing she’d reschedule if he had the day off since it was hers off school and work.

“I can sleep over still right?” Slater smiles making Y/N’s returns with a nod. “Your cat isn’t allowed in the bed though”

“Awww come on Tiger bites you that ONE TIME” Y/N laughs kissing him once more.

The next day came around and Y/N sat on the hood of her car waiting for her fools to get out of school. She was a little upset that she had to give Slater his shirt back but she knew she’d seen him tonight so she has all the time to steal it back. But the only clean shirt she got was a tank top and it fully revealed what he left on her besides her jacket covering the few on her shoulders.

“Y/N! Yo” Seth smiles doing a handshake with her as did Evan.

The moment Fogel joined his eyes obviously trailed elsewhere. Y/N caught on but didn’t think it was toward the hickeys.

“Hey” Y/N snaps with a smile. “My eyes are up here Fogel”

“Oh! Yeah sorry sorry”

It didn’t take long for Fogel to find Officer Slater and Micheals that evening since he just checks where they’ve been before. Fogel practically can get into the bar without getting ID’d because they’ve been with him before and not every bar is smart enough to double check.

“McLovin what the fuck are you doing here?” Micheals laughs setting his beer down as Slater looks up from his phone over to the distressed Fogel.

“Dude you good?”

“NO I AM NOT!” Fogel got into the bar stool now having both of their attentions. “So you know Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“We were hanging out earlier right? And she was like...a little revealing”

Keep it cool Slater

“Okay? Aren’t a lot of college girls revealing?”

Micheals you fucking bastard

“ANYWAY—She had all these fucking hickeys and stuff but like I didn’t know she was seeing anybody! I really like her and I don’t know what I’m going to do about it”

“Is there...anything you really can do? She’s seeing somebody” We can’t be subtle for shit.

“I mean you can jump the gun and think she’s...a whore but I know she’s not! She’s too classy for that”

“College does shit dude. You don’t know what she be doing” Micheals laughs again as Slater laughed along even if he wanted to punch his partner. “You should just be straight up with her if you really like the girl”

Y/N stares at Slater after he told her what happened. She couldn’t help it. She started laughing at the fact that Micheals would say that about her and that Fogel likes her. Like it’s cute that he has a crush on her but she thought the obvious disinterest in the three would’ve stirred that away but guess not.

“You take this super well”

“Well Slater, other than you. I’ve only slept with one other guy in my entire life. So the whore comment doesn’t affect me and you two are breaking up A LOT of college parties where some act like whores. You two see it a lot. But like I’m fucking smarter than that. I have a full ride through college, I have a decent job, good friends, and a boyfriend that I love. Yeah I get high sometimes but that’s about it” Y/N’s laughter calmed down as she moved her physics book off her bed along with her notes. She turns back to Slater moving himself to tower her. “Oh? Now what’s this?”

“You love me?” Slater smiles laying on top of her as Y/N brought her arms around him.

“I do, I love you”

“I love you too Y/N” Slater continues to smile getting many kisses from Y/N once he said that.

It didn’t take long for Fogel to find out. Well. It did. But it wasn’t...hard

Fogel one weekend went to Y/N’s school knowing she had a class on Saturday with the confidence to tell her but the second he spotted her, she was in the arms of Officer Slater.

So he did what was best in his mind.

Flip out.

“YOU FUCKING—“

Y/N’s attention immediately darts to the pissed off Fogel as she parts from Slater.

“Fogel—“

“I TOLD YOU THAT I LIKED HER AND YOU IMMEDIATELY SWEEP HER OFF HER FEET TAKING HER FOR YOURSELF”

“Okay I’m not a prized possession—“

“SHUT UP Y/N”

“Woah Fogel. Calm down don’t make a scene—“

“MAKE A SCENE?! YOU’RE A BACKSTABBING ASSHOLE” Fogel tried punching Slater as he has already kept pushing him back before he can even get in a “good punch”. But the more aggressive Fogel tried to be, Slater cant let it slide when he’s in uniform.

“Okay okay. No. This is assault of an officer and you’re under arrest” Slater states knowing this triggered Y/N at first since she didn’t know what was the plan here.

Fogel tried to fight the restraints aka the handcuffs being put on him. Slater immediately bringing him to his cop car as Y/N looked at everyone who watched anxiously before quickly following the two.

“You need to calm down”

“SLATER”

“No. Seriously. You need to calm down” Slater states putting Fogel in the back and taking the drivers not letting Y/N in until this was settled. “If she shows no interest you shouldn’t force it at all. And before you say “that’s what you did” I didn’t. She had every right to rejected me when I asked her out but she didn’t. The two of us got close and we fell in love. It’s not rocket science and I know you care about her. But shouldn’t you care more if she’s happy or not more than if she’s with you or not”

Wow.

Fogel didn’t really think that hard into it. Yeah, he has the reasons for liking her. But he didn’t think of how she’d feel about it. Only wanted to tell her everything. And after hearing what Slater said, he’s happy he’s with her. She’s got someone that loves her and will always put her first.

“Wow...I’m sorry Officer Slater, I didn’t even think about that”

“It’s fine Fogel. You’ll learn one day with the love of your life. I say that as a friend. But as an officer...don’t come throwing punches at me again or you will actually be arrested”

“Yes sir”

“Good” Slater faces forward gesturing Y/N to join the two in where Micheals usually sits. “We worked it out”

“Good. Cuz Fogel, he can’t do it because it’s wrong on so many levels. But I’m not afraid to kick your ass for throwing punches at my boyfriend” Y/N threats through the mesh cage separating the front from the back.

“Sorry”

“It’s okay, now let’s take you home”

[lovehugsandcandy]

One-on-One: Rematch (Part 2)

A/N: Remember when i wrote the first one of this and I was all like “WHY can’t I write anything short?!?” And NOW we’re at part 2 of a 16K word hot mess and that annoyance over three thousand words seems so quaint. (Part 1 here)

Pairing: Colt x MC, ROD

Length: ~4,000 words

Rating: N*FW (Sex-not explicit (I think?) but it’s there. Swearing.)

Summary: When Langston made it to Nationals, Ellie planned on spending the entire time studying in her room. It didn’t end up quite as planned.

Ellie hoped it was out of her system, that her temporary insanity had run its course and she would return to her normal focus and drive, but Ingrid ruthlessly guilt-tripped her into attending a party that night. Apparently, there were parties every night, various hotel rooms and bars teeming with players and associated hanger-ons, and Ingrid was never one to be left out of a party, especially when they were celebrating a Langston victory.

She was dabbing concealer on the mark at her collarbone when Ingrid walked in, fixing her with a penetrating stare. “You know… you know what you’re doing, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“Hooking up with a player? Who is it?”

Ellie blinked; her reflection looked as startled as she felt. “I don’t...I don’t know what you’re-”

“I’m not stupid.” Ingrid swiped a brilliant red over her lips, pursing them in the mirror. “You stayed out all night and showed up exhausted to the game with a hickey no makeup can hide? Seriously?”

“It’s not….” Her cheeks were as red as Ingrid’s lipstick.

“Ellie. Listen. Hooking up with players is...complicated.” She turned to fully face Ellie, hip resting against the sink, eyes imploring. “Be careful. They are in it for one thing and one thing only. And you’re never the only one. They always have fans in and out of their beds and we can’t be seen with them, anyway. It’s always temporary; no matter what, there’s always an expiration date.”

“I don’t…”

“Everyone hooks up here. Playoff week is like Candyland but then everyone goes back to the real world. And hookups with players, whether Langston or opponents... it doesn’t translate to back home.”

Ellie swallowed, hoping that it was the bathroom lights that were making her look so washed out.

“But...the guys are all in their peak physical prime so the sex is verrrry good,” Ingrid purred, wolfish smile alighting her face. “But don’t fall for it. Cuz that’s alllll they want.”

“I…” She inspected her nails.

“Ellie… I know…” Her voice was kind, confiding. “I know what you were like in high school and I have really loved seeing you come out of your shell, watch you meeting new people and having a social life. I just... I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t.” She looked up to meet Ingrid’s gaze head on in the mirror. “It’s not like that. It’s…” Images and sensations flashed through her mind, the glint in his eyes as he tracked her movements, the curve of his hand as he pulled her back into bed. “You’re right. It’s just sex. Really.”

Ingrid’s sigh echoed through the bathroom but, thankfully, she dropped it in favor of a sassy lipstick kiss on the mirror. “Fine, fine. Ready to go?”

Ellie didn’t answer the question, only dutifully followed Ingrid out the door, hoping that the party was worth giving up an evening with her nose in theorems and formulas.

It wasn’t.

The party was everything she dreaded; she could barely see through the bodies crowded in the penthouse suite. They forced their way through the crush, avoiding the flailing arms on the dance floor and cheering bros piled around a beer pong table before finally stopping by the makeshift bar. 

“What do you want?” Ingrid wrinkled her nose as she looked over the selection, finally picking up some fruity spikes seltzer with dainty fingertips.

Ellie hummed absentmindedly, “I’ll have a water.” She looked through the crowd again, spying players from all the teams milling and laughing, other cheerleaders she recognized from earlier in the season. But not everyone was there, apparently; she stood on her tiptoes, stretching to see over the crowd, trying and failing to avoid looking for a certain smirk.

“You are so boring.” Ingrid chided and then grabbed her arm. “Oh, there’s Jack. I’m gonna go say hi. Be right back!”

Ellie didn’t even have time to say goodbye before Ingrid was off, weaving through the crowd, trained like a honing missile on the upperclassman she had been fawning over. Ellie sighed, leaning against the table. It would be an interminable night.

As she was nursing her drink, she felt a gentle nudge at her side.

“So are you on a women’s team or are you a cheerleader?” 

She turned and immediately flushed as she realized that the boy next to her fit every single qualification of tall, dark, and handsome. Were all basketball players this cute? Of course, he was tall but the chiseled cheekbones? The dark scruff teasing its way down his jawline? She had to replay his question in her head.  “Oh... cheerleader.”

“I should have guessed. It’s a prerequisite to be gorgeous, apparently. Who do you cheer for?”

“Langston.”

“Ah, we beat you guys three weeks ago. And if we both keep playing well, we’ll see you in the finals.” She nodded, but a familiar figure pushing through the crowd stole her attention. He was engrossed in an intense conversation with a tall brunette; even from here, she knew they were talking strategy, Colt’s eyes lighting up as they parried ideas back and forth. His eyes swept the crowd as he walked past the dance floor, nodding along as his friend spoke, but he stopped as soon as his eyes locked on hers. She swallowed, unable to look away, as he bid farewell to his friend and walked over, positively swaggering, every step filled with the unbridled confidence owned solely by boys who threw the first punch because they knew they would throw the last. She wished she were more stoic, able to pretend that he wasn’t affecting her, but the swoop in her stomach made it impossible to think of anything else.

However, when he sidled up to them, she was surprised that he turned instead to the boy in front of her.

“Logan?”

“Sup, Kaneko?”

“Toby was looking for you.”

“What?”

“He said something about that play you guys were drawing up. With the hand-off at center court?”

“What did he-”

“I dunno man, something about trying it while dribbling backwards?”

“What?” Logan’s eyes widened. “I gotta... I’m sorry.” He turned to her and panic flared on his face. “I have to go.”

Once Logan rushed away racing through the crowd on a mission, she flushed under Colt’s gaze; he narrowed his eyes. “What in the world you talking to him for?”

“What? What do you…” She lifted her chin to shoot him a challenging stare. “Wait, you jealous?”

“Jealous?” He rolled his eyes. “Ha. If I were, I would have just given him a black eye.”

“Why do you care who I talk to?”

“I don’t.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, deflating under her scrutinizing glare. “I am shocked to see you here.”

“What do you mean?”

“This doesn’t seem like your kinda place,” he scoffed. “I figured you would be in your room studying.”

“This doesn’t seem like your kinda place. I figured you would be in your room brooding.”

“Ha. That hurts..” He shrugged, eyes intent on her. “I mean, nothing was really going on in my room.”

She bit her lip. “Ingrid wanted to come and, after my vanishing act yesterday, I figured I should spend some time with her.”

“Well then, where is she?”

Ellie pointed to the dance floor, where Ingrid’s heavy make-out session with the Langston forward was definitely an NCAA violation.

“Hey, I know him.” Colt ducked his head to see through the crowd, rolling his eyes. “He got so huffy about a pick I made that he tried to punch me. They had to stop the game to find his tooth.”

“What?” Ellie peered through the crowd. “No, it was our center you fought.”

“Nah, different game.”

“Wait… how many times have you fought someone on my team?”

“Hmm…” he pondered, eyes narrowing, “I mean, how many times have I played you?”

“Wait…”

“Twice a year in the regular season and once in the playoffs last year, so what is that? Five?”

“You’ve... you’ve been ejected from every game you’ve played us?”

“Sweetheart… I’m ejected from about half of the games I play.”

“How are you still in the league?”

“I’ve gotten a lot of warnings.” He glanced around the room. “But people here have done far worse than me.”

She wasn’t stupid; she had heard horror stories of the trouble athletes had gotten into. It was one reason she had consciously avoided players until... well, until now. Players were not in the plan. But now?

“You wanna get outta here?”

“What?”

He shrugged. “I mean, we could stay and play drinking games and get wasted…” He nodded at her water. “Or we could not.” She smirked, holding his gaze as he ducked his head to whisper in her ear, “So, do you wanna get outta here?”

“Yeah, I do.” She really did. With one last glance across the dance floor to ensure Ingrid was occupied, she followed him back to the exit, eyebrows flying up when he clasped her palm to lead her through the mass of bodies. His hand was warm, strong, and entirely too solid for a fling with some collegiate athlete; she held tight anyway. 

She eyed him closely as they walked to the elevator. Now that the roar of the party was receding, Ingrid’s words rang loud in her brain. “What did you mean when you said you noticed me?”

“What?”

“The first time we played you. This season.” The sports page said it had been his best game all season; she didn’t remember a thing except for flashcards on enthalpically driven reactions.

He raised an eyebrow. “You mean, when you were so busy studying that you didn’t even say hi to me? You ignored the star of the game?”

“Oh my God, you are so full of yourself.”

He laughed, looking far more relaxed than he had at the party; instead of being on guard, he looked almost boyish, young, eyes gleaming in the elevator lights. “When I first saw you, you were berating your friend.”

“What?” Of all the things she was expecting, that was not it.

“Your roommate? Ingrid? She made some mistake in her hand placement of a hold and you were trying to fix it before the game. And then you made the team try to retry the jump flip thing?”

“The what?”

“Christ, I don’t know what it’s called. You jump in the air and flip around and three people catch you before you crater onto the court. You made them do it repeatedly until you thought it was perfect.”

The doors opened, and she stepped out, glancing over at him.

“I honestly couldn’t fucking tell a difference any of the times you did it.”

“I…” She followed him down the hall, brow furrowed. “I thought you would say something about the skirt.”

“I do like the skirt.” He reached into his pocket for the key, eyes on her the entire time. “But you’re tough. You didn’t take Ingrid’s shit. Hell, you don’t take my shit. You have high expectations of others, but you expect perfection from yourself. You’re smart and you don’t let anyone stand in your way.”

The door opened with a ding and she stumbled in, unsteady. Apparently, Colt’s talents at surgically cataloguing and exposing the strengths and weaknesses of others was not confined solely to the court.

“What? Why do you...?” he asked.

She blinked, inhaled slowly, exhaled slower, and finally spoke. “You sound like a fortune cookie.”

He laughed again; thankfully, his head fell back so he missed how weak her return smile was as her eyes drifted to his jersey, tossed in a heap on the floor. The championship game was in five days.

If that was her expiration date, then goddamn, she would make the most of it. Straightening, she stalked over to him. “Did you bring me here only to talk?”

He looked down to where her fingers were touching his arm and then caught her eye. “How about some dirty talk?” She rolled her eyes, blush flaring, and he stepped even closer. “How ‘bout some things that definitely wouldn’t be on a fortune cookie?”

Her breath stopped as he ducked his head, lips tracing her cheek, neck, lower, following a trail of red as far as it went, then lower as they fell to the carpet.

They didn’t make it to the bed.

And when security banged on their door to inquire about a noise complaint, Ellie could not stop stuttering apologies, Colt could not stop laughing; once they left, it became his mission to make her scream even louder.

He succeeded.

~~~~~

Ellie woke up slow. Her muscles ached, the best kind of sore, and she sighed in satisfaction. The room was gauzy around her but, as things slowly came into focus, she realized her head was pillowed on a muscular chest, legs intertwined, sunlight just starting to crawl up the starched sheets.

“Colt?”

His eyes were focused on his phone, staring intently at something flashing across the screen. He didn’t move.

“Hey, Colt?”

Finally, he looked down and realized she was awake. “Oh, hey.” He pulled out an earbud. “Morning.”

“Morning. What are you so focused on?”

“Hmm? It’s game tape.”

“What is it?” She sat up, curling into his side to peer at the screen. “Oh my God, you narcissist. Are you watching yourself?”

“Ha ha.” He wrapped his free hand tighter around her waist and sighed, “It’s the game against Williamsburg. See him #42?”

“Yeah.”

“He torched us for a double-double. That’s not gonna happen again.”

He hit play, and the video ran, zoomed in on the player Colt referenced. Ellie had learned a lot from cheering at game after game, but she was no expert. However, even she could tell he was their best player, watching him drain three after three. She squinted at the screen. “What is that weird thing he does with his hand?”

“What weird thing?” Colt hummed.

“The weird flick thing. With his wrist.”

“Huh? What are you…” Colt moved the video back a few seconds to watch. And did it again.

“That! You see that?”

“Yeah….” He sat up slowly, eyes trained on the screen. “He does it before his pump fake. Holy… how did you…”

“Biomechanical engineering, remember?”

“Damn…” he finally turned to her, eyes gleaming, and the awe in his voice made her flush. “I am so fucking keeping you around!”

And when his lips crashed into hers, she could almost forget the twisting in her gut that reminded her of their expiration date, her plans, and the fact that no one was keeping anyone around. 

Almost.

 ~~~~~

Ellie was tucked back into his sheets when he sauntered out of the bathroom. She stared. It had been a while since she had seen him in actual clothes.

“Are you going to the other quarterfinals games?” he asked, toweling his hair.

“Uh…..no? Why would I?”

“I dunno. I go to all of them.”

“Why?”

“Well, we play whoever wins the afternoon game and I think it’s gonna be Williamsberg. Good time to scope out the competition.”

“That’s very strategic of you.”

He leaned over the bed to kiss behind her ear. “I’ll show you strategic.” Then, his tongue parted her lips, stealing her breath until there was a pounding on the door.

“Come on, we’re gonna be late,” a feminine voice hollered from outside.

He pulled back. “Give me a second, for Christ’s sake!” He turned back to Ellie and kissed down her jaw, sloping down her neck. “I’ll be back, ok?”

“What?” she whispered.

“Yo, Kaneko, let’s go.” The girl from outside pounded on the door again.

“Will you be here when I get back?”

Her eyes widened. “If you’re going to both games... you want me to stay here until 10 tonight?”

The kisses returned to the side of her neck, lower, and she tangled her hands in his shirt. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Fine.” She couldn’t help but return the smile, laughing as he flashed her one last wink before ducking out the door and settling back against the pillow.

She lounged for a while, flipping back and forth between channels and seeing what appeared to be every single Picta image ever posted before she snuck out, hotel key firmly in her pocket, and made her way down the stairs to duck back into her own hotel room.

Ingrid greeted her with a raised eyebrow. “Where have you been?” Her eyes immediately found the hickie on Ellies neck and she leered, “And what, or who, have you been doing?”

“Oh my God, stop.” Ellie barely glanced her way before sticking her head in her backpack, rummaging around for a couple textbooks. If she was hanging out in a strange room all day, she might as well get some studying in.

“Seriously, though. Are you...Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Yes! Yes yes, jeez, yes. I’m having fun. Isn’t that what you want for me?”

“Yeah, but…” Ingrid frowned. “I just worry. You’re so set on studying and school and after school...I don’t want some loser meathead to ruin it for you.”

“He’s not-” She had to physically bite her tongue to stop herself from refuting the phrase. Colt was a lot of things, a walking ball of contradictions wrapped in tight muscles and fast fists, but meathead loser was far from it. Unfortunately, Ingrid’s raised eyebrows suggested she knew exactly how Ellie would have finished that sentence. She sighed and started over, “He won’t ruin anything. I have a plan and I’m sticking to it. He’s just….” She had to inhale a shuddering breath to power through the rest of the words. “He’s a fling. It’s just sex and, after this, everything is gonna go right back to normal. My future plans are fine.”

“Ah yes, Ellie’s seven step plan to get her doctorate and take over the world.”

“Not the whole world.” Where were her highlighters?

“I worry about you.”

“I’m fine. It’s all fine.”

But even when Ellie clutched her books to her chest and headed out the door again, even when she did her best to keep her head high and fight back the blush, Ingrid did not look convinced.

Ellie didn’t know how convinced she was herself.

~~~~~

The only sound in the room was the ESPN announcers droning on and the scratch of a pen over dense words. She had nearly finished the chapter on thermodynamic principles, sprawled over the bed with her toes buried under warm sheets, when the door opened.

“Hey, how were the games?” She finished writing out a formula on an index card, checking to make sure she had noted the correct number of atoms.

“Good. We’re gonna win it all this year, you wait. Williamsburg looked rough.”

“What about Langston?!?”

“Yeah, I don’t…” He sat next to her, trailing off as he noticed that the television was on. “Ugh, turn that shit off.”

“What do you mean? They’re talking about the playoffs.”

He reached for the remote but she held it over the side of the bed, giggling as he flailed. “Look, Langston, there we are. Future champ-Hey! Red and gold. Wait, that’s you!”

“You know they replay this shit, right? They showed it already.”

“You’ve seen it? Don’t ruin it for me, big shot.”

She glanced over at him and his jaw was set, eyes hard.

“Colt?” He didn’t move, eyes looking through the television in front of them, sour lines painted across his face, even though the announcer was droning on about his court vision and passion. She laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Hey, I can turn it off.”

“It’s fine, whatever.” He shook his head and sighed, eyes looking past the tv, past the wall. She frowned. “I just wonder sometimes... does he fucking see this shit? He never watched a fucking game, he never fucking showed but now, that asshole... he cares so much about the family name, the family legacy and now, when people look up Kaneko, it’s me. It’s me they see, not that asshole.” He blinked furiously, still staring straight ahead.

She hit the power button, dropping the remote on the floor to straddle him, cupping his cheeks to look him in the eye. “Colt.” He didn’t even blink, staring straight through her. “Colt.” She thumbed his cheekbone; he didn’t move. “Kaneko.”

“You’ve…” His eyelashes fluttered slowly as he gazed at her. “You’ve never called me that.”

“Isn’t that what your teammates call you?”

“It hits a little different when you say it.”

“Huh? How so?”

“When people say it to me…” He swallowed, hard. “When people say it to my dad...I’m used to it being hollered or screamed. Not...” He trailed off.

“Not what?”

“Not all sexy.” His gaze softened when she glared, and his voice dropped so she had to strain to hear. “Not like it means something.”

“You’re the only Kaneko that means something.”

She gasped as the room spun, landing on her back as he hovered over her. “Call me that again.”

“Kaneko,” she gasped and his lips found her neck, lower, sharp pinpoints of white pain as he found the bruise on her collarbone.

“Again.”

“Kaneko,” she moaned and a tense hand dove into her hair, tilting her head to the side to drive teeth into her sensitive neck. Her hips bucked.

“Me, my name,” he growled into her ear and her vision dimmed, consciousness fading to the only things that mattered: his hands rough on her hips and his voice a rasp in her ears.

“Colt. Cooolt. Kaneko. Colt, please!” He ripped the shirt off his head and her clothes followed, flying through the room, textbooks slamming on the floor, a flurry of motion until she was underneath him, nails digging into his back. He slid inside of her and she screamed, pressure building as his name fled her lips, along with epithets far too vulgar for daylight, as he worked her into a frenzy and then an explosion, when names and sight and anything except for white-hot pleasure was meaningless.

~~~~~

At least when she woke up next, it was still morning. But, by the time they got their act together, breakfast in bed followed by a shower and, a few hours after that, another shower, it was no longer morning, sun high in the sky as Colt grabbed his wallet. “You ever been to Nationals before?”

“Nope.” She shrugged. “Freshman, remember?”

He smiled, grabbing his key from the desk. “Then let’s get outta here.”

“What?”

“Let’s go. See the sights. You don’t have a game until tonight, right?

“Yeah… our semifinal match. I need to be at the arena at 7.”

“Good. Come on.”

She was confused but followed, escaping the hotel to make their way into the city, avoiding the crowds and the press to hop a bus downtown. They grabbed lunch at the waterfront, Colt threatening to push her in the river, hands solid around her waist as she laughed and laughed and laughed. He bought her ice cream and then wiped vanilla on her cheek; his tongue was absolutely indecent as it licked it off, entirely inappropriate for a crowded street. She couldn’t bring herself to complain through her flush. He followed her through small shops, grumbling bitterly the entire way, but she still snapped a photo of him in prop sunglasses and a cowboy hat before he put her in a headlock, pulling her out the shop door as the bell rang merrily over their heads. 

And when she arrived at the arena, 20 minutes before game time, clutching her uniform in both hands, he pushed her against the closed doors to thoroughly map her mouth, lips pinned to hers as hungry hands roved her body and her Langston blue-and-whites fell to the pavement as she pulled him even closer.

And during the game, she had no idea what the score was, registering neither her routine nor the Langston victory; her mind was far away, and she felt distracted, disembodied, until she was sliding the key into the lock and was falling back into his bed.

.

Tags

Perma @desireepow-1986 @leelee10898 @emichelle @client-327 @choicesgremlin @brightpinkpeppercorn @thequeenofcronuts @lilyofchoices @choicesarehard

ROD @omgjasminesimone @mskaneko @lovemychoices @burnsoslow

Colt

@deimosensblog @alegria1580   @thefarrari @moonlit-girl-wonder @going-down-downtown@soniadotalves@jolietmaraud @flowerpowell@poeticscolt @zaira-oh-zaira @akrenich @sibella-plays-choices​  @maxwellsquidsuit  @liamzigmichael4ever​ @octobereighth @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction

[jaeyongsslut]

Happy Virthday | Jaehyun [m]

Paring: Jaehyun x reader

Warnings : smut,smut, unedited

............enjoy........

"Wake Up!! Daddy!"

"Please, One more minute?" He whine and pull the comforter until it cover his face.

"NO!! Wake up and shower now daddy. MOMMY IS PREPARING BREAKFAST FOR US." your daughter waking Jaehyun up with a loud voice. You can even hear her cute voice and Jaehyun's whine from kitchen. You are making pancakes for breakfast. Today is Jaehyun's biryhday, you woke up early today and you have prepared something special for his birthday.

"MOMMY!! daddy is showering now" your daughter run into the kitchen. You laugh.

"Good, Hyunnie, Do you want one or two pancakes?" You kiss her pink cheeks.

"I want three" she said while pouting.

"Ok, then three panckaes for you" You chuckle.

"Yayyy" you smile as she eat pancakes and milk you made for her.

"Hyunnie, you have to stay with auntie Y/F/N tonight. mommy and daddy will pick you up Tomorrow morning.ok?" you whisper at her. You will drop her at your friend's house tonight cause you and Jaehyun have to go somewhere only you know.

"Yes! Mommy, don't worry about me" you smile at your 6years old daughter acts like a grown girl.

"Hmm.. You two already ate without me?" Jaehyun enter to kitchen said with a fake sad voice.

"Come and eat your pancake. Mr. Jung"

"Happy Birthday, daddy" your daughter said and small giggles left from her mouth. He place her on his lap.

"Aww thank you so much, hyunnie" he kiss her cheeks.

........

"Where is my birthday gift?" he sneak his arms around your waist when you washing dishes. Your daughter is watching cartoon now in the living room.

"You will see" you bit your lips and try not to smile.

"And we have to go somewhere tonight" you said while he is showering your neck with kisses.

"Umm..where?"

You finished washing and turn your body to face him.

"You said you want another kid, right?" You whisper into his ear.

"Yea I want it but how about Hyunnie? We can't leave her alone"

"I asked Y/F/N to take care of her just one night, we will pick her up Tomorrow morning"

"So you will give me a baby as my birthday gift?"

Now, you wrapped your hands around his neck.

"Yes, it's fine if you don't want it. we can-" he interrupt you with a kiss on your lips.

"I want it baby, we haven't done that for months. And I want you. I want you so bad. That will be my best birthday gift, you know" he pull you into warm hug. You smile into his chest.

"Before that. We will go shopping and movie with Hyunnie, and we will go to family swimming pool and park after lunch"

"I'd love that idea, Mrs. Jung" he kiss your forehead and you hug him tight.

...............

You booked a hotel room for tonight. You got so excited cuz you two haven't done that in long time. You miss that feeling, his touch and pleasure. Especially anoutvhaving another kid. This was your friends',idea. You asked them what to give for Jaehyun's birthday and they said that will be best gift and have alone time. He love kids and he always said he wants many kids with you. You want to give him anything your husband want.

You two drop your daughter at your friend's house after having dinner together.

..............

He kiss you as soon as hotel room door close behind you. You pull away from his kiss.

"Can I shower first?"

"Lets shower together"

"No" you peck his lips and run into bathroom quickly before he can caught you. And you lock the shower door.

"You have to pay for that, baby!"

He whine loudly.

You take a long shower and can't stop smiling.

You feel confident as you watch yourself in mirror of bathroom. You wear black lace panties underneath pink silk robe that you bought a week ago. You loose the robe a little to show your breasts.

"Baby, what take you so long?" You chuckle ad you heard his impatient voice from the bedroom.

You applied make up and red lipstick before you left the bathroom.

Yoy saw your husband with loose tie two buttons of his shirt are undone and sitting on king size bed with annoy. He curse when he saw his wife is in robe and sexy for him. He lick his lips.

"I'm sorry, if I take so long. I just got excited" you take place next to him and run your fingers onto his tense shoulder. You know he is getting impatient. You waste no time, kiss and nibble on his neck, your free hand drop onto his lap and then to his semi-hard cock while other hand play with his soft hair. He kiss you while you pumping his member. The room become hotter and hotter. He drag your body to his lap and you straddle him. You take off his belt and unzip his pant when he is placing kisses on your neck.

"Tonight is yours, I will take care of you first, Jaehyun" You pull away for him and take out his hard member. He help you taking off his pant. His chest rising up and down while you unbuttoning and take off his shirt, threw somewhere in the room

You take both of his hands when his hands reach to touch you.

"Don't touch me until until I say so"

He is always dominant in bed but this time he let you. You untie his neck tie and wrap around his eyes, you use that as blind fold. And he smirk, he love it when you try to dominate him.

You kiss his neck and to his chest. Your tongue poke and suck his nipples a little before you go to main place. He groans when your tongue meet his tips, you lick leaking precum. Your tongue run onto his member before you put it into your mouth.

"fuck y/n" you pin his hands on the bed when he try to grab your hair while you sucking him. Your head bob up and down, he moaning and cursing. His legs crawl as his tip reach your throat. He is being sensitive cause you two haven't done this in long time. You are sending him to cloud nine.

"k-keep going, princess, i'm about to cum"

Your hands stop pinning his hands to pump him and helping him to reach his orgasm. As soon as your hands leave him, he pull your hair and thrust up into your mouth. You gag and tear roll down on your cheeks. He chant your name loudly as he came into your mouth. You pull out his member with a pop song. You wait him to steady his breath and remove his tie, now he can see your already mess body even he haven't touch you tonight.

He pin you down on bed and hover you.

"Baby,, I love that robe but we have to take it off" he remove robe from your body.

"I miss your body, you know?" he nibbles your neck and hands kneading your breast.

"I miss touching you..so bad" he mouth travel to your breast and leave marks.

"I miss your beautiful breast" he rip your panties off your body.

"And I miss your little pussy" his tongue tease your bub. You moan as he lick your fold.

"I miss your taste hmm.." he suck your clit and you grab on pillow.

"Your taste ...better than... our last time, baby" he eat you like his favorite meal. His hands keep your legs wide for better access. He spread your lips and blew some air. You pre cum dripping down from your sensite pussy. He got hard again. He give the last lick.

"Now, let's get a baby. Are you ready?"

You nod and catching breath so hard.

"Ah fuck! you still so tight .." he move in steady pece.

"f-faster Jae.."

"you feel so good...more than the last time we did"

He thrusts and hit your spot repeatedly.

Your nail dig into his back and you are moaning mess like the first time.

"Oh god- Jae.." He know you are near and his thumb rub your clit. His thrusts become sloopy and sloopy. His sweat runing down from his body to yours.

"I love you so much, princess" he kiss you sloppily.

You can feel the bed is moving along with you. Your moan echo in the room.

Your wall clench around him. His thrusts became slower and you both cum. You can feel his hot cum dripping down between your legs. He hug you while you both catching breath. He pull out his still hard member.

You grab his neck and kiss him passionately.

"Can we go for another round, princess?"

You let him for more round cause today is his birthday.

You two just can't get enough of each other. He still not satisfied until your body sore.

..........

Happy Birthday our Valentines boy 💕

[witchqueenofthemoon]

BODY AND SOUL Part 29 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: Okay y’all...listen. I meant to get this part up yesterday, but the Met Gala ate my fucking soul. Billie and Cody finally together at an event since MONTHS AGO at Ryan Murphy’s Walk of Fame ceremony is a thing I have been waiting for...since then, which was back in November. NEEDLESS TO SAY I WAS KIND OF DISTRACTED. Cody looked like some kind of cerulean space prince, and Kenzie looked like a goddamn glitter princess barbie, and then they started screaming along to Cher together and I DIED and now I’m speaking to you from heaven. IT’S BEEN A HUNDRED YEARS SINCE WE GOT ANY COLLIE CONTENT. I was on cloud nine, and I still am. It’s the intense, magnetic chemistry between them that birthed Millory in the first place, and Millory, of course, birthed Duckenzie. The two of them so happy together after months of not seeing each other was just so incredibly wonderful, I feel so grateful to Leslie in particular. I still feel like I’m high off of all of it, but especially the two of them, who are just absolute royalty to me. AND NOW ON TO THE CHAPTER: This is a big one. I’ve been waiting for a long time to introduce Rosemary to all of you--who is (did you guess?) my Angela Basset/Marie Laveau AU. I’ve known for awhile that she was going to play an important role in this story, and it was as wonderful for me to meet her as it was for Duckenzie here. She’ll show up one more time before the end; and I might do a little one-shot eventually where they go to visit her in New Orleans. She makes a really mean gumbo. Her top is like this, her skirt like this, her headscarf, her boots, some of her necklaces: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. A reminder that Kenzie’s dress in this part looks like this. The Fates, at least, my version of them (certainly based on the Moirai but also on the many incarnations of Hecate, as she bestows magical powers on Kenzie and Duncan, and on the witches in the AHS universe, and all witches in all universes, at least in my mythology), were always going to be the Triple Goddess, the Goddess many witchcraft practitioners (myself included) pay homage to: once again, the Divine Feminine energy that guides true goodness in the universe. Her mythology is partially my own invention (giving her a Heaven, making her the force of Light that fights against cosmic Darkness/the Devil, rather than a patriarchal god), partially in accordance to many witch beliefs. I loved that “god” appears to Michael in APOCALYPSE as a little girl; if anyone remembers that I put Ariana Grande’s GOD IS A WOMAN way back in Part 4 (cuz y’all, even then I had plans), you get a cookie. Duckenzie’s High Destiny has long been in the works in the grace notes of my story; it’s the cosmic energy of their union bringing a balance into their world. I’d need some weed to deal with the information they’re given, hence they smoke some weed. To finally have a chance to explain the way in which Duncan and Kenzie are Michael and Mallory was a big moment for me and for this fic; and to explain that she will always be his saving grace, too. I didn’t want to focus on sadness or despair regarding Duncan’s fate as Michael; rather the joy of the redemption of Duncan’s universe. I had to put WITCH-QUEEN OF NEW ORLEANS in this part as an homage to Rosemary being Marie Laveau in another life (also, it’s a fucking jam). Had to include a nod to Purity Ring’s BEGIN AGAIN in Duncan’s thoughts when he’s eating Kenzie out in this part, the most Millory song of all time to me. A reminder that this is the Demeter/Persephone illustration. This is the one of Selene looking down on Endymion. The excerpt Kenzie reads is indeed directly from the book. This chapter marks the closure of an important arc of my fic; from here on out, I’m moving forward into the last 1/3 of the story. As ever, your reblogs, comments, asks and edits (moodboards, playlists, aesthetics, everything) mean the world to me. If you’re reading, please take a minute to reblog the masterpost, thank you. 

The light was high when he finally woke; the day was half over, Duncan could tell immediately, before he even opened his eyes. We slept all morning. Oh god, that’s so fucking wonderful. I don’t remember the last time I slept all morning. Something had woken him, he knew with a vague knowledge. A loud sound.

His dream drifted off. I was in the woods, dirty, starving, tired, and a little girl was offering me an apple, but I wouldn’t take it for some reason...I was waiting for someone else...and he forgot it, moving up from sleep into the summer daylight. The room was balmy-warm, the golden sunlight past the window, coming from somewhere overhead, the wind drifting on the curtains again, the sound of a crow cawing outside somewhere over the lake. It was at least midday, but Duncan could smell the remnants of the hickory fire wafting through the window. It really was a good fire. And I made it. I pulled it out of my own heart, that fire.

There was a long, low buzzing--the doorbell, Duncan knew. Or rather, the bell for the front gate, the keypad and security feed downstairs beside the walnut-wood front door. Who the fuck could that possibly be. We didn’t tell anyone but Madeline where we were going. Maybe it is Madeline?

He stirred, his arm instinctively coming around Kenzie’s breast, his nose turning down into her hair; it smelled like the grass, the sun, her sweet sweat, and the residue of her rosy-jasmine shampoo. The bed was so wonderfully soft, the feel of her so exquisite--Duncan sent out jabs of resentment towards the sound that had woken him. How fucking dare you.

Kenzie stirred a little against him--he leaned up, brushing the hair from her cheek to kiss it. The buzz rang out again, low and insistent and bracing. Her eyes fluttered and she let out a little moan, turning her face up towards him.

“Dunny, what is that,” she murmured. “Turn it off.”

“It’s the buzzer for the gate, baby,” he replied, his own voice coming out in a groan. “Someone’s at the gate.”

Her eyes came open immediately at that. “What? Who?”

“I have no idea. Did we even tell anyone where the cabin is?”

“I didn’t. Did you?”

“No...I don’t think so…”

The buzzer rang again; Kenzie moaned, turning into him, burying her face in his bare chest. How fucking dare you, he thought again, bringing his face down, kissing beside the dip of her eye. How dare you make me get out of bed, away from her. Who could have possibly found us? He hesitated for a long moment, contemplating staying and letting whoever it was ring the buzzer until they got tired and went away--but no, he thought, with a twinge of precognition. It’s someone important. It’s someone we have to see. Oh god, I hope it isn’t Annette.

Duncan got up, pained to move away from her, sliding over the softness of the bed. He trod naked to his suitcase, feeling Kenzie’s eyes on him, her eyes falling down to the half-hardness of his sleepy cock, a pout around her mouth. We came out here to get away from everyone, and still, someone found us. Somehow. Fuck. He pulled on briefs and another pair of jersey shorts, these in dark black, and one of the plain black tee shirts, ruffling a hand through his hair, and yawned.

The buzzer. Again.

“Fuuuuck,” he breathed. “Who the fuck is that?”

“If it’s Annette, I’m going to freak out,” Kenzie said, and Duncan watched her affectionately as she kicked her legs under the soft covers in frustration. He glanced at an elaborate golden-framed clock, beside one of the laurels. It was 12:17 PM. Fuck, it’s past noon. We slept for a long time. Fuck it. We earned it. We had a perfect day yesterday, full of wonders, and a perfect, long sleep. And now what--now what.

“I’ll be right back, baby.” Duncan hesitated, then winked at her. Fuck it. I’ll move through space again. Why not. He closed his eyes and grinned as he heard Kenzie’s delighted hum towards him, felt her knowledge at what he was about to do. That’s it, Dunny, show me your magic. Then her laugh cut off--he ached at the loss of it--and before he opened his eyes again, he already knew he was downstairs, facing the inside of the front door.

There was a small iPad beside the door here, the intercom below it and remote buttons for opening and closing the gate. Duncan tapped the tablet with a finger, and the security camera feed came up, facing the outward side of the road. There was a red Toyota Camry parked there, and the woman in the front seat was pressing insistently at the buzzer--he heard it ring again through the house, heard the far-away sound of another exasperated groan from Kenzie upstairs. He couldn’t see the woman’s face very well from this angle, but he could see the chocolatey color of her skin as she extended an arm through the car window. Her nails were long and red.

Duncan switched the cameras; now the one on the feed was from straight above the outside buzzer the woman was pressing so incessantly. Now he could see into the driver’s seat clearly. He didn’t recognize the woman at all, but she was stunningly beautiful; she had sharp, slanting cheekbones, pursed in impatience, full lips in deep mauve, a dark silk titian-colored scarf wrapped around her head. Her eyes flashed out at him through the camera; they were dramatically intense and bright, brimming with secret knowledge. Her skin was warm cocoa-brown, and flawless. Duncan shivered.

Who are you?

He pressed the talk button on the program’s interface, puzzled, frowning.

“Can I help you?”

The woman started; Duncan saw her jerk back in her seat, surprised. Her expression shifted from frustration to one that seemed to be relief--it was difficult to tell on the feed, but she seemed tired, as though she’d been waiting for a long time, or had missed sleep, her expression drawn. As he watched her on the iPad screen, she pressed a hand between her eyes, then lifted her palms together skyward, as if in a silent prayer of thanks.Then she leaned over and spoke into the intercom.

“Praise be to Her, is this Duncan Shepherd?”

Duncan balked. Fuck. Shit. They found us. Someone found us.

“May I ask who you are and what your business here is?”

“I know that’s you, I can feel that it’s you, honey--and I can feel Mackenzie Stone here, too. I need you to let me in. I drove almost 17 hours with some very poor sleep in between to get here from New Orleans, pulled by the Will of the Goddess with a forceful hand, because She wants me to speak to you two and tell you what She told me, that the time is upon us. Now, if you would be so kind, I am starving and would appreciate some breakfast, and I need to park this car before I crash it into a tree, blue eyes.”

“How did you find us? We didn’t tell anyone where we were going. We’ve been here for a day--”

“Sugar, honey, listen, I told you. The Goddess. Sent. Me. She came to me and She told me where you were and She told me everything. It’s gonna take awhile to tell you everything, so you best let me in and make me some eggs and some black coffee and roll me a big joint of that strong blue weed I know you got.”

What the fuck.

“Who are you?”

The woman let out a long sigh, rolling her eyes, dipping her chin up, then turned back to the intercom, enunciating with a pointed impatience.

“I am Her Hand, and She sent me, and Her will is to reveal your High Destiny. My name is Rosemary Antigone Delacroix, and you, Duncan Malcolm Shepherd, best let me the fuck in.”

Her words came like a heavy weight against Duncan’s mind, a pressing hand squeezing on his heart. This woman was powerful; he could feel her power from here, surrounding him, pressing against him, running along the edges of his skin, brushing the sleep from his mind, stoking him wide awake. This woman is a seer, a priestess. She can see things that are happening, have happened, will happen. She’s the one who was coming--the thing on the horizon that we felt on its way. And now she’s here. It’s her destiny to come to us, it’s our destiny to receive and hear her. Okay, Fates. I get it. I’m picking it up, loud and clear. Shit.

Duncan double-tapped the button beside the intercom; OPEN GATE.

He watched the beautiful woman through the screen; she smiled, her teeth shining out from her face--he could see her eyes flash, marvelously clear despite the smallness of the iPad screen.

“Blessed be,” she said, pushing a pair of large dark sunglasses over her eyes. Then she laughed, and the laugh sent a shiver up Duncan’s spine; it was lit with a bright joy that seemed to descend from the top of his head down into every part of his body, a tingling, vibrating energy charged with prophecy. It’s here. She’s here. The thing that was coming has arrived.

He turned away from the intercom and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time; his heart was hammering and he felt far too nervous, suddenly, to try to use his still-mysterious power once more.

“Kenz,” he called as he reached the landing, sprinting down the hall. Something was lifting him up now; kindling his excitement, pitching his nerves to a high place. “Baby--” He ran through the bedroom doorway, skidding to a stop, falling onto the bed on his knees. Kenzie was sitting up now, clutching the blanket against her naked torso, her chestnut-light hair tangled around her shoulders, staring at him with an apprehension in her sleepy eyes; then she saw his face, lit with that strange excitement building in his gut, and smiled at him, nervously.

“Dunny, what? Who was it? What is it?”

“Kenzie, it’s--I don’t know who she is, but it’s her. The one that was coming. The one we felt. You know? She’s the one. She’s beautiful, Kenzie. She’s a medium--or something, I can feel it. You know how we were talking about going to see a psychic? Well--I think she came to us. She felt us. Kenzie, she said she just drove here for 17 hours from New Orleans. She said her name is...Rosemary. Something. She said--fuck, Kenzie, she said The Goddess sent me, She told me where you were--”

His words were tumbling out at break-neck speed--he slid over the softness of the bed to grasp Kenzie’s (beautiful, tiny, beloved) hands, and he could see the uncertainty in her gaze bleeding out into the excitement he felt.

“Duncan--really?”

“Really, my love. Oh, fuck. Really.”

Kenzie let the blanket fall away from her, and Duncan couldn’t stop himself--he clutched at her, under the sweet roundness of her little breasts, pulled her against him, immediately devouring her mouth in a kiss that flooded his body with tingling energy. Her divinity washed over him--the tide of her. Mackenzie Stone. We’re here, at the doorway, our Fate is on the other side. I’m not afraid. You’re here with me.

“I found you,” he murmured into her lips. “I found you, I found you, we’re here, we’re here together, I’m ready--”

“Oh, baby--” and Kenzie was kissing him breathlessly, her smell the sweetest thing in all the world, roses crushing into him. Duncan leaned away to look at her; Kenzie’s eyes were gold-flecked and infinitely bright, and her beauty was iridescent in the noon sunlight winking through the curtains. Mackenzie Shepherd, angel of my life, the part of me that was cut away, the fixed, irrevocable light of my soul.

“She said she has a lot to tell us. She’s coming now, she’s probably almost at the door. I’m going to make us all some breakfast. She knew things, Kenz, I don’t fucking know--I feel like she knows everything about us. You’ll see. Even through the screen I could feel her power. It was coppery-purple, like a sheen all over her...come downstairs when you’re ready, okay, baby? Take your time. I can feel it, can you feel it?”

“Yes, baby, yes. I can feel it so much I can hardly breathe.” Tears were in her eyes; he kissed her again, and Kenzie clung to him, her softness overwhelming to him, and for a moment he wished he could throw her down into the bed, kiss every inch of her nakedness, every tiny secret place of her heart. Then they broke apart; Duncan knew as he could feel she did that the time was upon them, and his adorations would have to come later. 

The time when we find out who we really are.

Kenzie slid away from him towards the edge of the bed and he grasped her waist, helping her down--she stood there, naked and shivering in some phantom breeze, her golden hair falling down her back in a shimmering wave, then she kneeled to her suitcase, tucking the strands that fell into her eyes behind her ears, looking away from him, determined. Duncan gathered up the bag of weed, the lighter, his grinder and his gold pipe from one of the laurel mantels where they’d left it yesterday, then went to the door, looking back at her again for a moment, trailing a hand through the side of his hair.

“Kenzie, baby--”

“Dunny, I know. I know. Just go downstairs, okay? I’ll be there soon. I know. I feel it too.”

He nodded inside her gold-flecked gaze, then turned away, sniffing back the tears he felt coming, trying to stave them. I feel the hand of destiny, and oh Fate, it’s heavy. It’s fearsome to behold it, to contemplate its weight, this Thing, this knowledge we’re about to be given.

Duncan heard a sharp, determined knock on the door downstairs then, and his breath caught. He ran down the hall, throwing himself down the stairs; he reached the door, flipping the double turning locks in fumbling fingers, yanked at the long handle--as he pulled the door wide a burst of golden sunlight drifted over his eyes, caught in the dappled trees. He lifted a hand to shield his face, and saw the woman standing there, silhouetted in a golden shroud that was like a holy halo around her. A halo, like Kenzie’s, Duncan thought. And then he heard her laugh again--and her laugh was even more beautiful now that he was standing before her. A laugh the angels would sigh to hear.

She reached out for him--Duncan felt frozen inside her dark-bright eyes, intensely focused on him beneath arched, graceful brows, the sharpness of her cheeks glowing dark sienna in the sun. She was immediately imposing; regal, her posture graceful, her poise intimidating and unmistakable. Her mouth smiled that radiantly white smile he’d glimpsed through the iPad screen; his breath caught to see it in the flesh, struck by her majesty, the expression on her staggeringly beautiful features, knowing, wise, and expectant. Her burgundy-colored blouse had long, drifting sleeves that fluttered in the slight wind, and her long black skirt fell to her ankles with an intricate pattern of flowers and vines. On her feet were heeled knee-high boots in dark brown leather. Around her neck were what seemed to be a dozen necklaces, gold and silver chains mixed in with leather cords and multi-colored ropes of beads; a raven skull, the claws of unknown animals, the symbol of the waxing, full, and waning moons (like the one Kenzie has), the voluptuous shape of a woman, a huge pointed obsidian, and countless tiny quartz points.

“I see what she’s done to you, Evening Star,” she said, and Duncan felt his breath gasp, suddenly caught in his throat. That’s what Kenzie called me. Sword of the Evening Star. “Snatched you from the jaws of darkness in this world. And I am moved to see it. As I knew I would be. The time of your High Destiny has come.”

Her hand came around his; her touch was very warm and strong. As she stepped closer Duncan could smell myrrh and resin and musky vanilla. The urge of tears rose in him again--the woman clasped her other hand around his, so she was gripping it in both. Her face was about level to his chin in her heeled boots, and she looked up at him with an approving grace; she seems taller than me, though, he thought. The energy around her is so focused; so carefully, intricately controlled.

“What did you say your name was?” He asked, and heard the trembling in his voice.

“Rosemary Antigone Delacroix. High Priestess of Her Will. The Goddess, from whom all life in this universe flows; from whom the life in every universe flows. Mother of all, three-faced, infinite. Your mother, and mine, and the mother of the High Princess, the Hidden Sphere Herself, whom you are blessed to love. Infinitely blessed, sweet Prince, with whom you will heal this suffering world.”

Goosebumps broke out all over his skin, the tiny hairs on his arms and the back of his neck prickling instantly, wildly. I knew it. I felt it. That she’s divine. That she’s holy.

“Please, come in.”

Rosemary’s smile lingered as she stepped past him, scattering its light over him; she moved into the house, beyond the staircase, her steps determined, her movements refined, hands clasped together in front of her, through the front room and towards the kitchen. She seemed to know where it was without needing to ask him, and Duncan followed, mesmerized by her. As they reached the kitchen Rosemary sat at the wooden island, reaching out for his hand again--this time, he knew, for the one that held the weed. He passed it all off to her and she sighed; the sound of her voice was deeply lovely, but he could hear the tinge of tiredness.

“Make me some eggs, would you, sugar? I like ‘em a little runny, lots of butter. And some of that turkey bacon I know you have in the fridge there.” Duncan stared for a moment, blinking as she rolled a big bud in her fingers, then began to sprinkle it inside his grinder. She paused, looking up at him expectantly. “And a big-ass coffee. I’ll pack this bowl. All three of us are going to need some fortification for these revelations.  Don’t you worry, your seer is here. I know you’ve been waiting, I feel it in this house, you filled it with your hopes and dreams and your confusion as soon as you got here. I feel it on your skin. You two have power unlike any I’ve ever seen, but you haven’t learned how to control it yet, that’s for certain. It’s zooming around in this space like it’s been snorting cocaine.”

Duncan turned as if waking out of a dream to the fridge, pulling out the eggs, bacon, and a stick of butter, retrieving a frying pan from a line of them against the wall, listening to the smooth clarity of her voice. Her energy seemed to be settling into the kitchen--dusky purple, warm, steady. He could almost see it, the way he could see Kenzie’s gold sometimes. She was taking the edge off him--bringing him down to her calmness, her certainty.

“So...Rosemary. Who--what--how--” He went to the Keurig that sat on the counter, starting a cup, then brought a hand absently to his chin, looking back at her again. She was deftly packing the bowl to the brim, the smile still playing at the corners of her mouth. “How did you...what did She...”

The Goddess, triple-faced, infinite.

“Shhh, blue-eyed Prince. You need to take it slow. All of this--” she gestured around the kitchen, but Duncan knew she meant all of it--the cabin, the lake, the forest with the clearing of black oaks, the field open to the stars--”this place is potent, full of your power, like a power outlet for your magicks. It’s why they’ve been so strong since you got here. This is an in-between place, and anyone who has even a little bit of the power you two have can feel it. But for the High Princess and her sweet consort, it’s like being given an electric shock--one that goes on and on. It’s the reason your lusts have been so potent, too.”

Duncan blushed at that. Lately, mine always are.

She smiled at him, knowing, then lit the bowl and breathed deeply from it, blowing out in a satisfied stream, leaning back against the wooden island.

“Hoo, that’s some good rich people shit,” she hummed. “Ooph, that’s good. Just what I needed, Praise be to Her. Thank you, Mother.”

Duncan got to work on the eggs, carefully cracking two into the pan and slipping two sides of the bacon next to them, deftly pressing the edges of the egg whites with a steel spatula. The smell made his stomach immediately begin to rumble; she’s right, we definitely need to eat before we get into all of this. All...of what?

“You two.” He could hear Rosemary laughing a little now from where his back was turned. “You two have burst upon the world like a garden. The media was not prepared. The public was not prepared. The world is not prepared, but they will get prepared--real quick. The current of time has turned towards fortune. And that, my dear Prince, is a beautiful thing. Beautiful beyond words. That I have lived to see this time is a great blessing.”

“Rosemary, what do you mean? How did you find us here?”

“Wait for her. For the Princess. The little golden goddess. Then I’ll begin.”

Duncan pulled down a plate and slipped the eggs onto it, a little runny, glassy with butter as she had asked. He flipped the bacon to let it fry for a bit longer, and brought the plate over to Rosemary, who appraised him with power drifting in her gaze. She took it, her warm hand brushing against his again; he felt the current pass through them, felt her strength, the depths of her knowledge touch his mind.

“You’ve been manifesting powers here, have you? And before you got here, too.”

“Fuck, yes. Non-stop, practically. I’ve been--transporting myself with my mind. Teleporting? I don’t know what to call it.”

“Transmutation. Salire per spatium. The ability to move, magically, instantly, from one space to another, without physically occupying the space between.” Rosemary took another long puff from Duncan’s gold pipe, then sliced into an egg with her fork, dipping it between her very white teeth. “Mm, baby. Perfect. You can fry an egg for certain.”

“Yeah. Yes. And Pyrokinesis. That’s what it’s called, right? The ability to conjure fire.”

“Create, control, manipulate. All of it. You can do all of those, I guarantee it. Try it.” She nodded to the stovetop, which Duncan had turned on manually. The bacon was sizzling, done--Duncan took a deep breath, then drifted his fingers close to the element, concentrated. Go back now. Go back. The fire went low, blue-white, and then died--the stovetop began to cool instantly.

“Mm--mm-mm,” Rosemary hummed. “Lovely. I can do a little myself, but nothing so smooth as that. That’s lovely. And I can only imagine what she’s been doing.”

“It’s so beautiful, Rosemary. She is so beautiful. I can’t even tell you…”

“You’re biased, baby blue, but I’m sure you’re right. Any other things you’ve found out you can do?”

“She can sense my emotions over long distances...I found out something I hadn’t known the other day that really upset me, and she felt my emotions even though we were on opposite sides of the city. And...we can read each other’s thoughts. You’re the first person who knows that, and I don’t even know who you are. But...yeah. It’s like colors--she looks and feels like gold...she says mine is blue. I can kind of see mine, sometimes, if the emotion is really strong. Now that she’s here. I couldn’t...I couldn’t do any of this before. Before we met.”

Duncan brought the bacon over to Rosemary’s plate and slid it down from the pan. She immediately dipped a graceful hand to it, blowing on it, crunching it in her teeth. He brought her coffee over, starting one for Kenzie now. “I can hear little bits of other people’s thoughts now sometimes, when they’re really strong. I think Kenzie can do it almost all the time. And she can heal people--their bodies, their hearts, their anger. It looks like gold when she does that, too. She can sort of...press it into people, like she’s wrapping them in a blanket.”

He started more eggs in the pan, silent for a little while as Rosemary sipped her coffee. Then he went on.

“Two nights ago there was a Gala--”

“The Shepherd Freedom Foundation Gala, everyone knows that, honey,” Rosemary cut him off. “You two are on the front page of a lot of shit since yesterday.”

Duncan winced, plating the other eggs and getting to work on more bacon. “Really? We turned our phones off before we left. We really wanted to just get away for a few days. It’s been...really intense since Kenzie and I found each other. The scrutiny’s been intense.”

“I understand, Duncan. When my task is done--that is, to tell you your destiny--I’ll be gone, for I have many duties, and you will have a little more time to be alone together. But the Goddess told me what to do, so I’m doing it. When She speaks, everyone best listen. Let me give you a warning. When the two of you go back--back to DC, I mean--the world will have changed. As if time opened a new window. You are on the path now, one heading towards a bright future, not just for you and Mackenzie, but for this universe. There are many--universes, I mean. Not all of them are kind, or light, or good, some of them have no light, and some have a depth of both. This universe has much darkness, but like clouds parting from the sun, your union here will bring transcendent light. As there is a balance of greater darkness in other universes, this one will swing to the light. A major obstacle will have passed when you return, but there will be a new onslaught of attention focused on you and Mackenzie. You will need to be her sword at every turn; you will bow to her light and others will follow your example. So gather your strength.”

Duncan’s head was pounding. What does any of that even mean? Other universes?

“Are you talking about...quantum theory? Like, parallel universes?”

At that moment Duncan heard a soft sound in the doorway--he looked up to see Kenzie coming into the kitchen on bare feet. She was tucking her chestnut-golden hair behind her ear, her face nervously turned down, eyes huge, fingers at her mouth; she wore a floor-length white linen dress, covered in a print of pale pinkish roses, with a dipping neck and short, puffed sleeves. The Tiffany moon glinted at her throat; as she moved her arm the Cartier bracelet flashed there in gold and diamond. Rosemary had turned to her, and Kenzie’s eyes were wide on the other woman. God she’s so beautiful so beautiful so powerful I can feel her lovely power like a field of a thousand violets, like the water flowing out from the sea...Duncan could hear Kenzie’s thoughts falling out of her in a long stream.

Rosemary’s face was cast into an immediate affection--a curious wonder. Her mouth dipped open, away from the black coffee cup which had been poised at her mouth a moment before, and she sighed; the sigh of relief that comes after a long, anticipatory wait.

“Child. Sweet child of heaven.”

“Hi,” Kenzie whispered. She stopped in front of Rosemary, and the woman reached out her beautiful dark fingers. Kenzie slipped her small hands against Rosemary’s; Duncan felt speechless, his heart feeling crushed by the moment, his eyes immediately blurred by tears.

“I am Rosemary Delacroix, and I am a mouthpiece for Her, the three-headed, the absolute, the Goddess. She has many names. Time. The universe. God. Goddess. Fate. Destiny. But she is the one who brought all life to be, kindled it, nurtured it, tended to it. She is the one who remakes life, rebuilds it, cycles it through every age, in every place, in every aspect. She made me; she made you and your sweet blue-eyed Prince from the stars burning like these diamonds, many eons ago.” Rosemary’s finger drifted to the bracelet; her dark eyes glanced up at the one on Duncan’s wrist, knowingly, and he shivered. “She made the thread that tethered you together, Mackenzie Stone and Duncan Shepherd, long ago, before she made Time, because you, sweet High Princess, asked her to. You loved him; you asked to be together always. And she granted your wish. Because you were--you are--beloved in the sight of heaven. You are a High Princess of Her Body, and of the Garden. You are the Hidden Sphere.”

Long, aching tears fell from Kenzie’s cheeks--she glanced over to Duncan, biting her trembling lip, her thoughts crushed gold. I do love him. I do love you, Duncan, more than anything. I do love you. I love you. This woman knows--knows I’m divine, the way you said you knew. The way I can feel it, now, and I can’t find the words.

“It’s fine to cry, honey. It’s fine. You cry as much as you want, mmhm? Come sit with me, angel baby. You come sit with me and let me bask in your sweet light. I can feel it now, like taking a bath in a pool of gold. Goddess, praise be. That’s just fucking lovely. Praise be to Her. She made the masterpiece, sweet sugar, in you--that gold, like a waterfall. What a soul.”

“Duncan’s the one who looks like a masterpiece to me,” Kenzie was laughing a little through her tears, settling down on the bench next to Rosemary, who had dipped a long arm under Kenzie’s elbow to steady her. Duncan brought Kenzie’s breakfast over to her, trying to hide the tears on his cheek with a swift hand--she looked up at him, biting her lip, nodding. “Thanks baby,” she whispered. I love you so much, he heard her thought. I’m not afraid.

“What do you mean, asked to be together always?” Duncan said, his voice trembling. “Are you saying there’s a goddess...that controls the universe, and Kenzie is...what, her daughter?”

Rosemary looked at him for a long moment, her eyes staggering with depth. For a time Duncan felt lost, mesmerized inside them; like the whirling gold galaxies he’d seen in Kenzie’s eyes in the dream, or the blue nebulas she said she saw in his, he felt he could see violet supernovas, cascades of cosmic dust in Rosemary’s gaze for a moment. Something infinite and eternal. Something constant, and huge beyond imagining.

“Make yourself some breakfast first, Duncan. You’re going to need something in your stomach before we really begin. I want both of you to know right now--there is much to tell. It will take some time. My heart is full of all of it. I need your strength, my dear one, to help me tell you everything.” Rosemary pulled Kenzie’s hand into her lap again, gripping it with strong fingers. Kenzie was nodding--a silent, secret thought seemed to pass between them, one Duncan could not see or hear in his mind. He felt immediately frustrated to be cut off from them; then he heard Kenzie speak to him alone in gold waves: be patient, baby, beloved, be patient, okay? Take a breath, the kind you showed me after my nightmare, when you held me so sweetly.

Their eyes met; Rosemary’s gaze shifted between them. Okay baby, Duncan thought, breathing in through his nose, holding it, breathing out. He turned back to his eggs, his stomach in knots.

“To be near both of you gives me strength already.” Rosemary’s face clouded with emotion; she seemed close to tears, and raised the coffee cup to her face again to gather her composure. “The Goddess has made all things in perfect balance, the light and dark, the day and night, and both of you--the perfect balance of these things, the great duality of her creations. To be here with you is to behold her Wonders. Eat, child.” Rosemary gestured to Kenzie’s plate, and Kenzie nodded, picking up a piece of the bacon, biting into it. Duncan brought his own breakfast over to the island, and sat carefully, across from her, reaching out his hand. Kenzie took it, her eyes wildly bright.

My heart feels like it’s going to burst, Dunny, she thought.

Mine too, my sweet Kenzie. Oh, god. Goddess. Whoever is listening. The Fates who have been guiding us…

“Rosemary,” Duncan said, looking into the woman’s dark eyes. “Since we met, I keep going back to this one image, of the Fates, you know, like in mythology--Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos. I keep seeing them in my mind’s eye, seeing them weaving this thread for us, the one that brought us together. Does that mean something?”

Rosemary finished the food on her plate, sighed a little, contentedly, and brought his gold pipe up to her lips again, breathing deeply. She dipped a hand under her chin, her eyes taking on a serene expression.

“It’s Her. She is the Fates. The Goddess--She has three faces. Many know Her by them, and worship Her in these aspects, She has many names. She is three-headed in that way; She is never totally the same from one moment to the next. When She came to me this time, She was very young and beautiful--Her skin like the tanned sand under a long sun--Her eyes bright in unbroken joy, her body smooth. But She does not always appear this way. Her aspect is ever-changing, the color of Her skin, Her hair, Her eyes, Her face; when I see Her, I feel it is Her, for She never appears the same. Sometimes She is very old, and sometimes She is a mother, her belly swollen, and sometimes She is not a woman at all, not entirely--She is some other great thing, made of stars and strange matter. I’ve seen Her this way, in dreams.”

She passed the pipe to Kenzie, and Kenzie took it in her small hands, head dipping to breathe in from it. Kenzie was still crying--Duncan’s fingers slid over her palm, sending the strongest wave of comfort he could into her. I love you, baby, I love you, everything is okay, everything’s going to be okay, better than okay…

“The Fates are her aspects--all three are Her. You thought of them because you thought of Her--because you knew, you know it was She who brought the two of you together. Your destiny--the High Destiny, as it has been called--was written when the stars were new. Mackenzie Stone, you are the High Princess of her Heaven. You were an Angel, once, Exalted; there is no earthly word for what you were, but an Angel is the closest word to it. You were the most divine of all. You were loved above all by Her in her heaven; and you still are. I know you feel that, child. I know you know you were loved so. And that you are loved--so much. Her eyes have looked down on you from her heaven and thought Beloved, for millions of years.”

“Yes,” and Kenzie was crying earnestly, her lips trembling as she spoke, shoulders shaking, eyes awash in tears. “Yes, Rosemary, I know. I can feel it.” Duncan gripped her hand tightly, aching to hold her; her fingers clutched him, like he was her only tether in a vast ocean.

“Before conceivable time, you fell in love.” Rosemary nodded to Duncan. “You fell in love with him. Listen to me, Duncan: you too were an Exalted being, an Angel, like Mackenzie. They called you the Sword of the Evening Star, as She has told me. You were a Knight--like a Knight, a Prince in the service of Their holy protection--of Her Holy Court; the fairest of all of her Knights, who are very fair indeed, fair beyond earthly eyes. There is a great Darkness in the universe--in the pantheon of universes. It aches to snuff out the light of Her Heaven, the love that dwells there. Some call it the Devil; Satan; Lucifer. He--It--has many names. But It is mostly the Darkness; the energy that must juxtapose her Light. It wishes, eternally, to destroy Her. But her Knights hold it at bay; her fighters, her warriors, her faithful. In that age, you fought for Her Light, and prevailed many times. She loves you very much. She chose you from many to lead the protection of her Sphere; the Heaven she made, long ago. It is Hidden from that Darkness, made safe through the power of her Grace. Get me some water, Duncan, honey.”

Duncan stood, feeling dizzy, going to the fridge. A Knight for a Goddess. A Warrior Prince. He couldn’t even feel incredulous--he was beyond disbelief. Whatever Rosemary is saying is true, he knew. She knows everything--and she has to tell us. My inability to understand doesn’t make any of this impossible. It just makes my ability to conceive it inadequate.

“Each time you are reincarnated--yes, Mackenzie, reincarnated--” Rosemary said, as Kenzie let out a tiny gasp. “The Darkness, in His cunning, tries to get at you. Sometimes, He has succeeded. As there is Feminine energy in the universes, there is also Masculine energy; there is an endless battle of wills, balance of energies. Their duality is not fixed, rather it shifts and changes from universe to universe, age to age. Yes, Duncan, quantum theory, as it’s called--there are many parallel universes next to this one. Infinite universes, in fact, beyond our ability to conceive. A version of you--both of you--exists in each universe. And as there are many universes, there are many lives you have lived before this one, in this universe, as well. There is another life you have glimpsed here, a life you lived in the past--”

“The Mirror,” Kenzie said, softly. Her eyes were staring into Rosemary’s face, but Duncan could see that her thoughts were fixated on the vast golden Mirror he knew was resting silently in the penthouse bedroom, many miles away, a relic to a past that had been unknown to them until this moment. Frederick knew, he thought. He may not have totally understood, but he knew it was special, that it was magical, and that it was always ours.

“Yes, chickadee, sweet honey,” Rosemary sipped her coffee again, cradling it in her graceful red-nailed hands. “That Mirror belonged to you in another life--you were royalty then, a Viscountess, a powerful witch--that is, a seer for Her--at that time too, with many of the skills you are manifesting now. And in that time you found each other as well, but there was an accident; you both were murdered in the Revolution at that time, in the streets of Paris. And so time turned to another place, another page--and your spirits moved on. But the Mirror has magick. It’s no ordinary Mirror. There are strands of the Golden Sphere in it; strands of the divine instrument given to you by the Goddess, Mackenzie, when you were in her Heaven, in her embrace. A gift that symbolized her love, and her Heaven, which will always be your home. When you were cast to earth when the Law of Time was written, the Sphere fell with you, but it was mostly destroyed when the Darkness tried to rend it. What remained--the fragments left over--were made into the Mirror by one of her seers of old; a disciple of her Light, as I am. And so it will always find you in this world, too, for it cannot be destroyed until this world ends.”

Duncan was standing beside the fridge, still holding it open, the water glass poised in his hand, frozen in her words. Kenzie gaped at Rosemary with her mouth dipped open, her golden hair falling around her cheeks. Rosemary glanced between them, then beckoned to Duncan, and said.

“But that is the Law for the two of you. To exist, always, and find each other, always, into eternity, until the Law of Time is over, when you will return to the Sphere of her Grace. No one knows when that will be, or if it will ever be. That I do not know. I only see small bits and pieces of the future, and their shape is always strange to me.”

Duncan’s hand was shaking as he brought the glass he’d filled to Rosemary--but her hand was steady, and she smiled up at him, reassuringly. I think for now I just need to listen, and try to understand, he thought. I can’t even imagine anything to say. Just please hold my hand, baby.

Kenzie reached out again as he sat, twining her fingers through his tightly. She brought another slice of bacon to her lips, eating despite her tears. Duncan moved his fork to his plate, resolved to the same. They ate quietly as Rosemary went on. What else can we do.

“You met, as was meant to happen, in the Garden of All Delights, where the known universes were all born. It’s a very beautiful place--beautiful beyond all conceivable beauty to our pitiful human eyes. It’s made of colors--oh, colors you can’t imagine.”

Those colors I saw in my dreams.

“Like this universe, Duncan, when you laid eyes on Mackenzie there, the first time, you knew she was your love for all time. There you stayed together for eons by our measure of time. The Goddess saw, and She smiled to see your perfect happiness--the selflessness of your love for Her Princess, Her Joy, Her Golden Child, and Her selfless love for you, the perfect embodiment of Her Grace. Your Names, in that perfect state--there aren’t words for them. She didn’t tell them to me, and if She had I could not speak of them. But you know them, in your secret, hidden hearts. They are beyond all human language. I know She’s shown you the forms you had then in a dream--and so you know those forms are beyond human comprehension, nearly beyond description. Please know that those are your true forms. There is more time before you adopt them again, but someday you will return to them again. In some other age.”

Yes, Duncan thought; he knew. Kenzie with her white-gold hair with a thousand flowers, each one a universe. Her eyes like golden galaxies. Her clothing made of impossible geometry. Her wings inconceivable and more delicate than those of any beast on earth. He could feel Kenzie thinking similarly of what she had seen of him in her side of the dream; his long golden hair and eyes like blue nebulas floating in ether, his shining aegis, impossibly slender and delicate, the strange wonder of his own wings.

“When the laws of the universe, of Time, were written, it was dictated that you--you, Mackenzie, and you, Duncan, would always find each other. In every conceivable universe, and every conceivable age. The Goddess, infinite in Her wisdom and mercy, could not spare you from the Great Law--the law of pain, death, and rebirth--but She could ensure that as the cycle of all things goes on, you would find each other in perpetuity. That you would never long be parted from one another. And Her law has been proven true, as it ever was, in Her Grace. I promise you, in every time, in every age, in every universe, you’ve found each other; for the places in which you haven’t yet, you will. And each time either of you dies--for you have both died countless deaths, as I have, as every living soul has--the cycle begins anew. You cannot long be separated. The Old Law of your love--the Great Love, true as dawn--is known and honored for all time.”

“You mean--Rosemary, do you really mean--we’ll always find each other, no matter what?” Duncan clutched at Kenzie’s fingers as he spoke, looking between them.

“No matter what, I promise you. You were the first Soulmates; in your love was written the Law.”

Duncan took the golden pipe from Kenzie’s hands, which were shaking like leaves in caught in a strong wind--he could see his own shaking too, but felt strangely removed from them, lost in the incomprehensibility of Rosemary’s words. He lit the bowl, breathing deeply, holding the smoke inside his lungs for a long moment--it settled into them, and he breathed out, counting. 1, 2, 3, 4...he handed the bowl, still lit, to Kenzie, who breathed from it again. Her tears seemed to dissipate, soften, her shaking fading into calm stillness.

“Rosemary, can we go outside? There’s a gazebo out there--it’s lovely. We can look at the lake. I think Kenzie needs some fresh air.” Kenzie glanced at Duncan with eyes filled with overwhelming affection as he said this. Rosemary nodded, her aspect calming, soothing, and seemingly unbothered by the weight of her words. This is truly a woman of exquisite power. “You bring that bowl, honey.” She reached for Kenzie’s hand and helped her up.

They all made their way out onto the deck and down the stone path, to where the gazebo lay in the pleasing solitude of the early afternoon. Duncan could see a flock of ducks swimming on the surface of the middle of the lake, beyond where the canoe creaked with a pleasant rhythm; there were more clouds in the sky today than yesterday, but it was still bright and warm, the breeze present again. Rosemary helped Kenzie onto one end of the long couch; Kenzie’s face was pale and her hands still seemed to be trembling. Rosemary moved to the other end, and Duncan knew innately she was leaving them space. Space to be together; to hold each other. He felt a wave of gratitude wash out from him towards the beautiful seer, this woman who had appeared as if out of thin air, by magic, in a car that had driven for an entire day, from thousands of miles away, to tell them impossible truths. He felt Rosemary’s drifting indigo-violet energy come against his, and knew she acknowledged his secret power, and his gratitude, as he acknowledged hers.

He slid next to Kenzie, his arms coming around her tightly, his nose falling against her hair to breathe her in. Roses, vetiver, geranium. Her own underlying musk, the heady scent of her and her alone. Kenzie’s head fell against his chest, her arms gripping him at the waist. Kenzie, we’ll always find each other, no matter what. I could die, I could shout into the sky, I could cry and never stop crying. My heart is full of you. My happiness in this knowledge is absolute. Kenzie seemed beyond words, but the drift of her gold against him was so staggeringly lovely, so intense, he fought to breathe. My Persephone. Flower of the universe.

“Now. There’s a lot more She told me to tell you. Listen carefully, my sweet moon children,” and Duncan heard Kenzie’s thought, like a memory, two moon children in love--

“As I told you a little bit ago--there is a great Darkness in the universe, in the pantheon of universes. As She is older than Time, so is the Darkness. He--It--has a far-reaching hand. You know that Darkness in this world; but this world, unlike others, does not have the depth of power that allows it full sway. The magic in this universe is not as vast as it is in others; here it exists in the hidden aspects. Your coming together has brought some of that magic to life here, but it is finite, and it has limits. There are other universes where your power is stronger, but the Darkness is stronger in those universes, too.”

“We’ve been having these dreams...” Kenzie said in a small voice. The air seemed to be soothing her; the breeze ruffled her hair as Duncan’s hands drifted against its softness.

Rosemary was nodding. “The Darkness had you in its grip here, Duncan, and it was attempting to tighten that grip. Your family in this world, its notoriety, its intentions--they have long been conspiring with the Darkness, long been courting its gifts. Your adopted mother, your uncle; they have done terrible things in the name of their own desires, and they wished to drag you into the shadows with them. They almost succeeded; you were almost fooled. But the Old Law prevailed, as it always does, one way or another. That Law is Love; that Law is Mackenzie; that Law is your High Destiny. The Goddess knew that your love would defeat that Darkness every time. And it always will. The Law she wrote is strong and it will hold. But the means by which it holds is never clear until you meet.”

Rosemary had brought her water glass out with them, and sipped at it for a moment, pausing. Her face turned to the lake; as she gazed at it, she smiled, but her smile had some sadness threaded into it. It was a smile that knew the bittersweet taste of life--knew the balance was impregnable.

“There are universes where your ending is not a happy one, I’m afraid. Despite finding each other, you don’t always get to be together this way. You suffer acutely in some; you die. But the death is written too--the death comes at your own hands, or you die together. It’s the Law; if you cannot be together, you must begin again, which means you first must be taken out of that time, the obstacle therefore removed. Duncan, I must tell you; there are universes where the Darkness claims you. And in some of them, in some of those lives, you cannot be saved but through death.”

Duncan felt a heavy hand settle on his heart--felt the breath drift out of his body as he gasped for air. Kenzie held him closer, and he heard the tiny sound of her sob against him. Oh baby, sweet Kenzie, please don’t cry so. Don’t cry for me that way. I love you. Here, we’re together. Please don’t cry. It breaks my heart into a thousand pieces.

“Is that what the dreams mean?” he asked, cradling Kenzie’s shivering body against his. He felt the terrible heat of her tears soaking through his shirt, her face turned into him, hidden, overcome.

“Yes. They are another life. Another universe. One where your ending is not a happy one. One where Kenzie’s love saves you; as it did here, as it ever does; but not to such happy ends, I’m afraid. It’s just one example of the window of infinite lives you have lived, lives you are living as we speak, in other places, in other universes. That life, that universe, is particularly potent. The magick there is much stronger than the magick here. It encircles that world like a dense fog; it surrounds it and seeps into everything. There you have powers beyond imagining, both of you. The power to raise the dead. The power to turn time backwards. The power to change the shape of things; things that should otherwise be immutable. Or destroy them entirely, completely--utterly.”

“Blue butterflies out of rose petals,” Kenzie whispered. “You making snow, Duncan.”

“Yes,” he whispered against her hair. You, Kenzie, blood on your mouth, turning back time.

“The power to travel to Hell, even, Descensum; to the pit of Darkness. Because there, Duncan, you are a being of Darkness. In that world, you are Michael, the Son of Darkness--in that world, the Darkness claimed you when you were born into it, and the Goddess cannot reach you. There, you are a powerful conjurer, a warlock, and Kenzie--Mallory, as you are called there--you are a powerful witch, in fact, the most powerful of all witches in that world, more powerful than the witches of any other world. A Supreme. Kenzie does not save you in life in that world, however; but through your death. So it is written.”

Duncan felt unable to speak; I think I knew that. I think I knew, when I had that dream on the beach, the dream where I was dying, and grandma told me to go to Hell. And Kenzie was there, her hair dark on her shoulders, she was that other version of herself, the Mallory self, and she held me, and I died.

“My nightmare,” Kenzie burst into a sob again, the wail in her voice making Duncan bury his face, his eyes closing, against her hair, making his heart clench until he felt as though he would suffocate in the agony of her sadness. “My nightmare. That man with your face, Duncan--that man was you in that place, that man was you, consumed, that was real, oh, no, oh no, no--”

Duncan couldn’t think, couldn’t speak; could only hold her, his heart pressed down with the depth of her sadness, determined to hold her as long as she needed him to. Even for that other me, the depth of her grace is staggering. The immensity of her love. I feel lost inside it; it’s the greatest thing I’ve ever felt. Whatever darkness is in me, no matter where I am, who I am, it’s nothing next to her light. I know that. Absolutely. I’d die a thousand times for you, Mackenzie Stone, High Princess of Heaven. A million times. I’ll die for eternity to be with you for just a moment. That, I promise you. I swear it. I will worship and love you endlessly, as I promised to, when we were Exalted--as we will be again one day. I know I will always recognize your soul.

“Sweet golden child of Her Grace,” Rosemary said, staring at Kenzie with violet, soothing warmth. “Do not despair--there is no need for it. You save him in every world. Your love is what saves him. Reach out with your heart into every hidden place. You know it’s true. There is no place your love cannot reach him. And death is not the end. In her Will, it is never really the end. And here--” Rosemary gestured out onto the lake, to the sky beyond. “Here, in this world, in this life, you’ve been infinitely blessed. In this world, you get to be together; truly together. And not only that. Not only have you found each other, basked in each other, found a haven hidden from the eyes of the world in which to feed each other in power and affection. In this world you have been given even more, for the Goddess does not take away in one world what she doesn’t bestow again in another. Here, you have worldly riches, too, is that not so?”

Yes.

“Fuck,” Duncan whispered. “That was our destiny all along, too, wasn’t it?”

Rosemary gazed at him, and her expression was omniscient in the stretch of this moment; it kindled his spirit up, thrilling his nerves, achingly beautiful against his soul. Yes. That was the plan all along. That not only would you heal each other infinitely, here; you would, together, heal this world, and that, too, would be your happiness.

Kenzie had begun to quiet against him; she turned her tear-stained face up to him, and her eyes glittered unbearably in the afternoon light: gold, russet forest, green like growing leaves.

“The High Destiny,” she whispered. Duncan brought his hand up, wiping under her eyes, pressing the dampness into his shirt, cradling her face.

“Yes, sweet golden honey.” Rosemary was grinning; her face was effervescent in its beauty. She reached for the golden pipe again from where Duncan had set it on the low table beside the lantern, raising it languidly to her chin. “Praise be to Her, in whose eyes all is made clear and wondrous, three-faced, sweet as blessed wine. Your High Destiny is to bring a long peace into this world. And when others in this world behold you together, that is what they see. Your divinity, your goodness, and their redemption.” Duncan continued to look down at Kenzie--she stared at him with a dawning happiness spreading over her face that made him clutch her cheek, dip his mouth to kiss her, uncaring that Rosemary watched--Kenzie, my Kenzie, oh my Kenzie--

Rosemary breathed in another long drag of the gold pipe. Then she continued to speak, her legs crossed with ease, her hand drifting against her many necklaces, thumb trailing at the obsidian, the raven skull.

“I know what’s coming, what’s at the door; by the time you return to the Capital City, Bill Shepherd will have been dead for a day. Yesterday, he signed his Will, at Annette Shepherd’s behest. Duncan: you are now the sole heir of Shepherd Unlimited and all its holdings. Bill Shepherd, as is his way, has over $15 billion dollars in overseas assets that he hasn’t been filing with his taxes. Those assets will be yours in a few hours’ time. With Shepherd Unlimited LLC and the tools at its disposal, it is your High Destiny, Duncan and Mackenzie, to heal this world.”

“Fuck,” Duncan whispered.

“Holy shit,” he felt Kenzie grip his shirt with her little tear-stained hands. “Duncan, oh my goddess. We knew. We felt it all along. We felt our destiny.”

“And Praise be to Her,” Rosemary said, and then she laughed; she laughed long and low, and her voice was like honey, and it seemed to fall into Duncan’s mind like a crashing, heady wine. Her laugh rang out onto the lake, stirring the ducks to flight; as they flapped up from the water, the sun dappled in their water-flecked wings, turning to patterns of gold.

-------

It was late now, the light growing low as it had the night before, gradually then all at once, and Duncan had conjured another fire in the copper pit. This one, if anything, was even brighter and more beautiful than the one before; it was almost transparent, burning wildly high and hot, kindled in the euphoria of his mood. Now that he knew the powers they had were real, not only real, but destined, he felt confident in the ability to strengthen them; felt confident in their reality. I’ve been blessed, and so I’ll use my blessings. I can see the shape of these powers now, their outline like a lingering vision after a bright burst of light. I was destined to have them, and so I’ll use them as wisely as I can.

They had all smoked so much of the weed through the rest of the afternoon he had begun to feel untethered from his body, lost in the softness of Kenzie’s touch, the sweet smell of the space under her ear and along her neck. Rosemary didn’t seem to mind, skillfully ignoring them as they kissed again and again, drifted their hands along each other lazily through the rest of the afternoon. Duncan felt split between his gratitude towards Rosemary and the intensity of his desire for Kenzie--he had been fighting off the urge to slide his hand up her bare leg under the dress for hours, and as he sat in one of the wicker chairs by the fire, watching Kenzie and Rosemary dance a few paces away on the lawn amid the fireflies, the strains of Redbone’s Witch-queen of New Orleans pumping through the outdoor speakers, he sent out drifts of his deep need towards her. She was spinning in the long rosy dress, her chin tilted up and the diamond moon flashing on her neck, his black cardigan falling off one of her shoulders--her hair was tossed by wind and sweat glinted at her temples, and all he could think of was how radiantly lovely she was; High Princess of Heaven, Goddess of the Golden Bower, Angel of the Hidden Sphere, my High Destiny, forevermore, everlong, no worship is ever enough. And now you’re going to marry me. And I know what kind of ring I’m going to give you. A moonstone. My moon, everlasting.

She’ll put a spell on you, she’ll put a spell on you

He tried to contemplate the wonder of everything that had happened in the past two days; of the past few weeks. It’s truly only been a few weeks? It felt like years, and also like no time at all, like hours. He tried to contemplate the immensity of time they’d loved each other, and the smallness of the time they’d been able to love each other in this present--felt too lost in it, had to move his thoughts away. He tried to conjure up the image of the Fates in his mind, knowing now that it was Her, aspects of Her, the spectrum of Her face. Too stoned, sorry. Just wanna fuck my baby. So fucking much. Forgive me, Goddess. He grinned to himself, into his hand. I know you do. I can feel that you forgive me.

Tho' she'll never return all the Cajuns knew, a witch-queen never dies

Kenzie and Rosemary were gripping each other’s arms now, whirling in a circle, both laughing uproariously. Kenzie tumbled to the ground, throwing her head back and laughing up into the sky, bleeding out into blue darkness. Rosemary clutched her belly and laughed up at the sky too.

“Oh Goddess, to be alive,” she crowed. Duncan looked up to her from his seat, grinning. Rosemary had told them the story that afternoon of how she had found the Goddess when she was young--had gone into a cave in the swamps of New Orleans as a young girl, finding a bower of strange golden flowers growing there, had had a vision of Her, as an old woman, wizened with the ages and also inconceivable, told her of her power to conjure and to incite light in others, kindle their dreams and hopes, their destinies. Another Thin Place, he thought, like that balcony, or our circle of oaks. They had made more of the chicken and other vegetables in the cooker, a charcuterie spread out on the deck table, and had been nibbling at it for a hours between the weed and glasses of wine--now the day was hazy and drifting away, and Duncan felt lost in the happiness of it; absolutely found in it. Rosemary tumbled herself into one of the wicker chairs across from him, her feet dipping up over one of the arms. She gazed into the fire, a serene expression in her eyes.

“Evening Star, you sure can make one hell of a fire,” she murmured, her eyes drifting closed. “It smells so sweet and feels so nice on my poor aching bones, thank you very much. The Goddess knows I put the work in since yesterday to find y’all, now she’s giving me a break, and Blessed Be.”

“Thank you, Rosemary. Thank you for everything. Thank you for coming all this way--for telling us everything. Who we are. What we’re meant to do.” Kenzie had heaved herself up from the ground and was skipping over to him, throwing herself into his lap and lifting her mouth up to kiss him as he spoke. He cradled her little body against him; her eyes glittered, her thoughts achingly sweet. To be held by you, baby, is the sweetest and most beautiful of anything. My Evening Star. My Hades who I plucked from darkness. You owe me so many kisses.

Oh I do, do I-- He dipped his mouth down onto hers again; he could feel Rosemary’s eyes on them, slitted, an adoration and pride in her aspect that he could feel as though it were visible. He knew she thought they were infinitely beautiful--the thought was a feeling of warm violet that emanated out from her; and I agree, if only because being loved and loving her so much has made me beautiful from within, he thought. I can feel the beauty in everything because of her.

“Rosemary,” and Kenzie turned her face away, looking over at the other woman’s beautiful cocoa skin, shimmering like soft copper in the firelight.

“Yes, golden honey,” Rosemary murmured, turning her face up a little, her eyes closed from tiredness, peaceful in the quiet of the crackling fire.

“What do the thin places mean?”

“Thin places?” Rosemary’s eyes opened a little, meeting her eyes.

“In the woods there’s a clearing. It’s surrounded by these huge black oak trees, and they’re all growing together, in a weird, tight circle. Inside it are so many wildflowers,” Kenzie laid her head on Duncan’s chest, under his chin, “and they’re growing in a spiral, like, I dunno, like they mean something, time or the universe, something like that. We were there yesterday, and…”

Kenzie blushed, trailing off.

“You fucked there.”

“Yeah. And it was strange--I mean, it felt like--Dunny, how would you describe it--”

“Like we were untethered from the earth for a little while,” Duncan said, his hand drifting against Kenzie’s thigh, under her breast, holding her against him, gazing into the fire. “Like we were in some kind of between place. Between this world and another one.”

“Ah, yes. I suppose the Thin Places, as you say, have many names. I call them The Veil, because they aren’t really places as much as doorways, gateways, the between of one place and another. The Goddess has tethered every universe together with threads--energy that passes from one place to another, acting as a bridge--and sometimes the threads wear thin; I suppose Thin Place is a well-suited name. As you are so close to your divinity still, these places are more obvious to you than to other people.”

“The night we met, we were on this balcony, with all these roses, and I think it was one of those places,” Kenzie was murmuring, eyes glittering on him, close to tears again. “It was thin--I could see him, Rosemary. I could see into his soul. I knew how beautiful he was inside. It was like a lamp shining out of a lighthouse. He said hi and he was looking at me like he knew me, like he hadn’t seen me in a long time and had missed me. And my heart just--stopped. I felt like he had set me on fire, wonderful fire, like this.” She looked at the fire Duncan had made--made with my mind, my senses, my will, for you. His heart twinged, reached out for her.

“The heart knows what nothing else can tell you,” Rosemary murmured, her voice growing soft again in her sleepiness. “It was only a matter of time before you found each other again.”

“Sometimes I think I see a golden thread between us,” Duncan said softly.

“The Goddess has tethered you this way. Since you are so close to her--because she loves you both so dearly--you can see the innerworkings of her magicks sometimes. They are not conceivable to human eyes. You’re feeling them. For all her works speak to the inner self, the hidden senses.”

“Rosemary,” Kenzie started again, and then Duncan heard the tears in her voice, cutting her words off. Her face turned into the crook of his arm--he felt her cheek shuddering there.

“Shh, Kenz, it’s okay, Kenzie,” he whispered into her. She nodded.

“Rosemary, thank you.”

But Rosemary didn’t reply--she was sleeping softly now, her chest rising and falling slowly, her hand dipped under her jaw. She was magnificently beautiful in the glossy sheen of the firelight, her dark skin illuminated, her sunset-colored scarf glowing, her obsidian and quartz stones shimmering, feet bare now, and grass-stained; she looks like a painting, Duncan thought, oh that Waterhouse had painted her, Rosemary Antigone Delacroix, who has given us so much joy in so little time. Thank you, Rosemary. Thank you. Now, we’ll let you sleep. I only hope I can give you something in return--and soon. You and everyone who has surrounded us, helped us, comforted us, shielded us.

“Princess Kenzie, let’s go upstairs,” he murmured into her ear. Kenzie’s eyes turned up to him, her mouth dipping open. Her hair fell down behind his arm, a sheet of gold. He felt wildly awake; acutely aware of the softness and the scent of her. He pressed his mouth against her ear. “I want you so much. Take a bath with me, angel. Please?”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, a laugh playing at her mouth. “Okay, but I wanna read stories to each other after we fuck. You have to promise we can read stories after.”

“We can read stories for as long as you want, Mrs. Shepherd.”

“What should we do, baby--about everything? We already know what’s going to happen. Rosemary told us. When we go back--”

“Shhh,” and he pressed his mouth, shivering, aching, against hers, intent to worship her, pulling her chin up insistently to reach her, his hands falling against the sweet softness of the dress over her breast. “Tonight, let’s just think about how divine we are, and how lucky we are, and how beautiful the night is, and how beautiful everything is, the stars, the lake, and you--” and she was nodding into him, climbing up to straddle him, the firelight licking its shadows against her hair, over her skin. “And you, baby,” she whispered. “My Evening Star. Goddess, I love that--”

“I’m gonna find you the most beautiful garden house on earth, Princess Kenzie,” he was whispering into her throat, his tongue licking out to the sweet saltiness of her sun-kissed sweat there, and he knew he meant it, knew he wouldn’t stop until he found it, “and together we’re gonna plant the most beautiful garden and so many flowers you can use them for a bed, and I’ll get you as many horses as you want, and I’ll read to you every night, kiss you a thousand times every day in our bed of a hundred of the softest blankets on earth, Kenzie, my golden goddess--”

“I want so many flowers for our wedding, baby,” she was murmuring against his mouth, the supple feeling of her skin driving unbearable waves of heat into his cock now. “I want a hundred dark red roses to hang over our bed between all the wildflowers, flowers in our hair, please, baby, please?”

“Fuck, baby, a thousand flowers, as many as your heart desires, I love you, anything you want, my flower of the universe, my Princess of the Garden of All Delights--fuck, baby, I wanna see it, I wanna see that garden in heaven, where we used to love each other, for eons, Rosemary said, eons--”

Kenzie was laughing against the tickle of his mouth as he groaned into her, standing and gripping her to him under her thighs, his hands finally (fuck, finally, no offense Rosemary) on her bare skin there under the long dress. Kenzie wrapped her arms around his neck and he carried her up to the deck, eagerly turning his chin up to her where her face hovered above him, needy for her kisses.

“I never wanna leave,” Kenzie whispered into him, and he shuddered, pulling her closer, so close the pattering of her heartbeat was flush against his chest, her hair falling against his cheeks. “I wanna run away into the woods with you, into our secret circle of oaks, baby, let’s just stay here and fuck in the field and in the trees and throw away our clothes and worship the Goddess under the starlight until the world ends--”

“But She has shit for us to do, angel, we gotta save the world--” and he was laughing against her as he stumbled with her near the stairs. Kenzie slipped out of his arms (how does she do that) and ran up the stairs away from him before he could grab her wrist--”we gotta save the world, Miss Stone--”

The weed was sweet inside him still, and he thought, The Fates are the Goddess and the Goddess is the Fates, and even if I have darkness in me, so does everything, so does everyone--I know I’ve chosen the light now, and that’s all that matters, I know it was my choice all along--I’ve found my sweet Kenzie, and nothing can fucking hurt me, nothing, nothing can fuck with us, baby--I can’t wait to kiss you with a thousand roses around us and the evening light and the sweet sound of music, slip your moonstone on your little finger and kiss your sweet hands with the tattoo of all my love--

He ran through the bedroom, seeing the little slip of her shoulder, the wave of her hair, the flick of the hem of her long linen dress disappearing through the bathroom door. Kenzie slammed it behind her and he heard the lock click into place. He fell against it, groaning, jiggling the handle to no avail.

“Baby, fuck, ughhh, lemme in, please.”

He could hear her giggling, hear the copper tub’s faucet turn on, its sweet low drift and the sound of her little movements, her tiny laughter kindling a needle of heat into his groin. My angel of heaven. Have mercy.

“I just realized something, Kenzie.”

She fell silent behind the door, as if pausing--for a little while he only heard the faucet running. The bedroom was bathed in low, golden light, and his eyes fell on Cupid’s flower crown in the painting, the tenderness with which he kissed Psyche’s cheek.

“I’ve loved you for thousands of years.”

There was another long pause. He pressed his head against the door, closed his eyes. I have, haven’t I. I really have, When I saw you on the balcony that night, I felt the immensity of time. I knew that it had always been you.

The door opened suddenly and he stumbled through it; Kenzie was throwing her arms around him, making him stumble further, against her this time (oh thank Goddess), and then she was pressing him harshly into the bathroom wall, her hands insistent, demanding. He was leaning down to her, trying to wrap his arms around her, but she pressed them down, her hand drifting to his jaw, clenching there.

“You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you.”

“Yes.”

“You’d die for me.”

“Fuck, yes.”

“Would you assassinate someone for me?” She laughed at this, her words hovering between facetiousness and seriousness, and her smile melted at his heart, made him desperate for her.

“If I had to, yes.” Duncan’s answer was serious, and they both knew it; he stared at her, his eyes unwavering, and saw her lips fall from the smile, saw that she could see the ache of him, insatiable, unending, for her.

“Look at the bruises you left on me.”

Kenzie lifted the linen dress up over her head, edging out of his reach as he tried to grip her. He realized she was naked underneath it and heard the tiny reverberation of his moan, following after her. She turned, flipping her hair over her shoulder, and Duncan groaned to see the dark bruises he’d left on her asscheeks, the product of his own hands. He kneeled, aching regret pressing on him, and cupped her at the top of her thighs, drifting his mouth down to the bruises, whispering against her.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry, I love you so much--”

“I love them,” she whispered. “I love the marks you leave on me. I asked for them and I love them and I want more. I don’t care how long we’ve been together in the past, it still only feels like it’s been a few weeks now and I want more. The marks from your hands and your lips, your attention, your love--I want more, more, more--” Kenzie was leaning back into his hands now, against the wet, open dip of his mouth, her hair brushing along his head. She turned and his face hovered right over her cunt--Duncan dragged her against him, opening his lips further, cupping them into the lips of her sex, turning her hips under his hands and pressing her into the wall. Kenzie’s arms drifted above her, up the wall’s incline, hands reaching heavenward, her back arching, leaning into him; Duncan pulled her thigh up so her knee rested against his shoulder, and held his tongue to her shivering clit, eliciting a long, drifting moan from her mouth turned upward.

The scent of her was rich with summery sweat and the salty gathering of her arousal, and it made Duncan feel as though he were drifting out into some ether, unchained from the earth, as if they were back in the black oak circle, between worlds.

“Baby,” she was humming, “how are we gonna know what to do? To change the world? What are we supposed to do with the company? Like--how--unnnh--” her words bled out as he drifted his tongue back and forth between her clit and the opening of her cunt, urgent and concentrated. No more worrying tonight, Kenzie, just be here with me, let me worship you…

“Mmhmm, baby, uhhuh,” she whined, and he knew she’d heard him, felt the bluish drift of his comforting thought. I’ve missed tasting your sweetness here, angel, I wanna build an altar to your sweet cunt alone, its secret places, curves, hidden clefts, the rich singularity of its scent. I’m gonna eat you out every fucking day for the rest of our lives. He pulled his tongue back, pressing his lips around her clit, sucking carefully, strongly, looking up with languid patience to the shadow over her face as her head fell down, her hands drifting from where they had stretched along the wall to his cheeks, his forehead, the curves of his eyelids, through the sides of his hair, and Duncan had to close them now, for fear he would die inside her eyes--that his heart would simply stop with the glorious weight of her (you Kenzie you my universe and I turn around you, I am your moon spinning around your earth, and when we end we begin again, when we die, we are reborn to each other--).

“Fuck, Duncan,” and Kenzie was biting into her lip, eyes falling closed, her body smooth and hot and terribly soft under his long hands, the wetness at his mouth an insistent undoing, the telltale trembling beginning in her thighs, “I think I’m gonna come already, sorry, baby, I can’t, god, that feels so fucking good, you’re too beautiful, annhh--” and he was shaking his head, rebounding his tongue against her, hands clutching at the bruises along her ass, fingers digging against them so she gasped in the half-patina of pleasure and pain--come for me, come as soon as you want to, as much as you want, as constant, for I will worship you always and my devotion will not end, Mackenzie Stone, High Princess of Heaven, yours is the one true beauty, the gold that you hold in the center of your soul--then, with a pilling satisfaction that urged heat into his groin, he heard the high, lilting sound of her voice crying up in her ecstasy (“Dunny, fu-u-uck-k, my Pri-ince, Evening Star, my fucking baby, unnnnh--”), the sound of the water filling the copper tub crashing against her and drowning out her drawn whimpers, and he thought of Sirens, singing on rocks in the sea, mesmerizing to sailors, causing them to plunge to the depths with desire. My Kenzie, sing to me. Sing your pleasure out for my ears alone.

She quieted, her breath heaving, her legs shaking against him, her cunt twinging--he pressed another long, adoring lick between the lips, shivering with wetness from his mouth and her deep orgasm, then he stood, her hands drifting from his hair to his shoulders to his stomach, his height enveloping her, as it ever was. He brought his arms down around her and Kenzie began to work at his shirt, pushing his pants and briefs to the floor, his mouth, damp with her sex, tasting at hers with lazy need. He lowered his arms, reluctantly, letting his shirt drop to the floor, then swung them down around her shoulders and the back of her thighs, lifting her into his arms. Duncan carried her to the copper tub, the steaming water within almost having reached the rim--he lowered her into it and Kenzie sighed deeply, her eyes fluttering closed in an expression of deep, contented loveliness.

Duncan lifted away from her, turning off the faucet, balancing on the edge of it for a moment, naked; Kenzie’s hair had immediately begun to drift around her, and he thought again of Sirens in the sea, calling out to Odysseus.

“You look like a mermaid, Kenz,” he said, smiling down at her. She grinned, dipping her face under the water, blowing bubbles up to the surface, eyeing him coyly.

“Come, come to me, come to the sea and be drowned, wah-haha,” she laughed.

“By you, gladly.” Duncan stepped over the rim and settled down into the serenely hot water. The tub was quite large--larger than the claw-footed one in the penthouse, large enough that he could stretch his legs out entirely and crook them around her, drawing her into him, his cock, hardening, straining, brushing against the inside of her leg and stomach. She shivered and he moved his mouth down to her cheek, her jaw, pressing tiny kisses there.

“Remember when you put all those roses in the bathtub, baby,” Kenzie was whispering, lifting herself up to him, her nose nuzzling against his. The water felt almost unbearably warm now with her against him this way, and Duncan wanted to cry out against her hair, on her bare, flushed, damp skin. I fucking love you, my love is ever-hungry, ever-urgent, as if it wants to tear me into pieces so I can feed myself to you.

“How could I ever forget that,” he whispered. “You were so fucking beautiful that night. That dress, the half-moon around your neck. I think that’s the first time I knew--really knew--that you were divine.”

“I’m gonna ride you again like that now,” she murmured against his chin, her eyes glowing, and her little slender hand was grasping his cock, now terribly hard in her fingers, easing up and down its thickness with her hips under his fingers, her little tongue dipping out along his lower lip--Kenzie eased herself down onto him, a shuddering, high gasp falling out of her mouth into his, and he cried against her, the pitiful need in his voice ringing in his ears. She moved, slowly at first, then more pressingly, her hands coming up to dampen his hair with water that fell through it in a glistening trail.

“It feels like we woke up from another dream today,” she was whimpering into him, and Duncan was kissing her neck, his mouth tingling with her, lost in the tightness, the clenching, devouring space of her cunt around him, the water’s steam rising around them in droves. “Now we know, baby.”

“That you saved me--” he whined into the dip of her throat now, his voice shuddering as his orgasm inched closer, through his thighs and his groin. “You saved me, angel, you saved my soul from darkness here--that you save me, over and over--you are my miracle, fuck, Kenzie--”

“I am, aren’t I--” she laughed against him, then her laugh bled into a moan as she ground down onto him in the glorious heat of the water, her little hands drifting along his neck, through his curls, her head falling back, and his mouth was around her nipple, sucking with deep hunger, his heart already breaking for the moment he’d have to stop--then he felt himself, eyes blurring with heat and tears, his voice crying wordlessly to heaven (thank you Fates, who are Her), coming harshly up into the golden space of her, the depth of her, the absence of void--she was fullness, truth, reality, the essence of life, she was the beginning and end of all, the solace of his existence. My angel, my miracle, my savior, my Kenzie, for all time.

And for awhile after, they held each other in the blessed quiet and the wonderful heat of the water and the soothing feeling of one another, and he kissed the tiny tears from her eyes, and everything in all of that stretch of moments, small, brief, and somehow also infinite, was sublime.

-------

Kenzie was laying with her face towards the ceiling in the center of the golden bed, the delicate, hanging golden lamp there bowing down on her, kissing at the waves of her chestnut hair. She wore the little silken pink pyjamas and the silk black kimono, gifts from me, I want to shower you with gifts for the rest of our lives, my delight, my sweet love, and one of the downy pillows was propped under her head as she held D’aulaire’s Book of Greek Myths up to her face with her little hands. The other books were in a pile beside her on the silky spread; the ghost story books, Jane Eyre, The Golden Compass and the stargazing book from Duncan’s penthouse library. Duncan was propped up with a pillow on the headboard, facing her, wearing just a pair of black briefs, one of her tiny feet in his large hand; he rubbed it carefully, tenderly, fingers drifting back and forth along its graceful curve, over the rise of her little bones, eyes on her face as she read. The curtain was floating against the wall, and Duncan could smell the fire from the pit downstairs rising up. He wondered if he should go wake Rosemary so she could sleep in one of the guest rooms, but was loathe to move away from the bed, out of Kenzie’s warm sphere. In a little while, he thought. The night is warm and beautiful, besides, as beautiful as last night. It’s like we’re in our own little world here.

“I just love this picture so much,” Kenzie whispered, turning the book to him. The picture was the one of Persephone and Demeter rushing into each other’s arms in a golden field of flowers. “It really makes me think of me and Momby. She’s going to be so happy when we tell her. I keep imagining her face when you call her Momby,” and Kenzie’s grin clenched at his heart.

She turned the book back to herself, resting its edge on her belly, flipping through the pages. Duncan could hear the peepers out on the lake, the drift of the water obscured by them, the low crackle of the fire pit below. Kenzie stopped on a certain page, gazing at it intently, her little mouth pouting, eyes concentrated.

“What’s that page, baby,” Duncan murmured, switching to her other foot, kneading at her toes.

“Selene and Endymion,” she murmured.

“Read it to me?” he asked. I love your voice in the soft night. Singing, speaking, breathing sighs, the gasp of you when you come, the little crying sounds in your sleep.

Kenzie smiled, eyes whirling dark green at him, cleared her throat a little, and read in a clear, measured voice. Journalism major, he thought, brimming with happiness so full it was like a golden cup running over through his body.

“Selene, the moon, came out at night to light up the sky while her brother, Helios, was resting. Slowly she drove her milk-white horses across the sky, and her pale moonbeams fell gently on the sleeping earth where all was peace and quiet.”

Duncan tried to imagine what it must have been like to meet Kenzie for the first time--not on the balcony, he thought, but in that other place, the real first time, after I saw her on her throne, like that dream we had, the throne where she held the sceptre--the Hidden Sphere, the one Rosemary talked about. We met in the Garden, Rosemary said, the Garden of All Delights. Kenzie’s hair, white and shimmering, was full of galaxy-flowers. Her eyes were a golden universe. And her wings were like the vastness of heaven in an unbroken sunset.

“One night Selene’s soft light fell on Endymion, a young shepherd, who was sleeping beside his flock. She stopped to look at him. He was smiling in his sleep and was so young and handsome that she completely lost her heart to him,” and here Kenzie glanced up at Duncan, her face cast in a soft corona of light, her eyes held in the aureate bow of her lashes, and he felt her thought--that’s how I felt when I saw your smile, baby. “She drove through the night, but she could not get him out of her mind.”

Duncan was sliding down over the coverlet to her, his hands drifting up her thighs. Oh you did, did you. She smiled at him nervously, then her eyes fell back to the page and she read again.

“When her duties were over, she went to Zeus and asked him to grant Endymion eternal sleep so he would stay forever young and handsome...Zeus granted Selene’s wish and Endymion slept on and on, smiling in his sleep. He dreamed that he held the moon in his arms. But it was not a dream after all…”

Duncan was pulling her up to him, into his mouth, easily lifting her small weight against him, and the book fell from her fingers to the soft spread and her hair fell back, her eyes fluttering closed against him, the silken feeling of her all too much, and Duncan thought of her as the moon shining against him; as the goddess she once was, of what had felt like a dream, had seemed to be one in the nimbus of sleep, but hadn’t been, her, so wondrously, soul-shakingly real now, in his arms--

No, no. Not a dream after all.

[doodlelolly0910]

I Hate You

A/N: This one is for my loveliest lovely Wondertwin @artistic-writer who is simply the best. Merry Christmas Salem! I don't know what I'd do without you most days. (I'm sorry it is late cuz Tumblr and I are fighting lol)

Killian and Emma had spent the better part of David and Mary Margaret's Christmas party at each other's throats. What had started out as sarcastic comments soon devolved into full on insults until David couldn't take it anymore and locked them in the guest room, barking at them through the door to “work it out or don't come out”. They had stood in silence, both refusing to look at each other but casting glares across the room when they were sure the other wasn't looking.

Neither of them were particularly cheery around this time of year, for various reasons, and when Mary Margaret got heavy handed with the rum in the eggnog, things had come to a head quite quickly. They'd never really gotten along. Emma thought Killian was too much of a flippant flirt, his lackadaisical attitude about life in general making her want to scream. He was convinced there was a stick planted so firmly in her arse it would have to be surgically removed.

“I hate you,” Emma broke the silence after one particularly long session of trying to set Killian's head on fire with just her eyes.

“The feeling is quite mutual, darling,” he replied with an infuriating smirk and a lift of one of his stupid eyebrows.

She wanted to slap that smirk right off his stupid, handsome face. With his unfairly blue eyes and perfectly manicured scruff. She hated him. For sure.

And he hated her. Walking into every room like she owned it. Smiling and pouting those plump pink lips while her green eyes danced with mischief. He couldn't stand her.

And there was always this underlying… tension between them. The closer he was to her the more he wanted to grab her and kiss her just to shut her the hell up. Just like right now, with her staring daggers at him and looking like some ethereal, wrathful being. And so he did.

It wasn't gentle, the way their lips crashed into one another's. Killian's hand plunged into her hair, tugging firmly as he maneuvered her head the way he wanted it. Emma's hands were clutching at the collar of the black button down he wore, pulling him into her so hard she could feel her lips bruising in real time.

“You're such an arrogant, pompous bastard,” she growled against his lips when they broke away for air. He nipped hard at her lower lip with a chuckle and she gasped sharply at the sensation. He wasted no time in plunging his tongue into the wet cavern of her mouth, sliding harshly over hers. They wrestled for dominance, building heat between them until Emma thought she was going to burst into flames and she pushed him away roughly. Killian looked down at her, lust and confusion warring in his ridiculously blue eyes, his chest expanding and contracting in huge breaths.

Before she could overthink it, Emma grasped the hem of the ugliest sweater in existence (thanks Mary Margaret) and pulled the snowflaked nightmare over her head in one fell swoop, leaving her standing before him clad in only a red bra from the waist up. The breath whooshed from Killian's lungs as he took her in. His eyes bled from sapphire to midnight as they raked over her form with an almost palpable ferocity.

It made her shiver slightly, a reaction he noticed right away based on how quickly his eyes snapped back to meet hers. He stepped closer, all swagger and sin, his hand coming up to trace along the edge of where the crimson fabric met porcelain skin and she could feel the electric goosebumps explode in the wake of his finger.

“For me, Princess? You shouldn't have,” he murmured, his tongue poking at the corner of his mouth teasingly.

“Trust me, I didn't.” She swatted his hand away and reached out, seizing his shirt in both of her hands and ripping it open, what little buttons that were actually buttoned popping off and skittering across the room. Killian looked down, his eyes blown wide and his mouth hanging ajar before meeting her gaze again.

Emma didn't give him time to complain or question, instead moving forward and slipping her hands inside of the parted fabric of the ruined shirt and raking her nails down through his chest hair and over his stomach. She latched her lips onto the edge of where his collarbone met his neck, coaxing a growl from his throat.

His hand came up to fist in her hair again, the other looping tight around her waist And crushing her against him. With a firm yank, he pulled her mouth up to meet his again in another breath stealing kiss. As he kissed her, he began walking her backwards until her knees hit the bed, her hands clutching tightly around his neck as they moved.

His lips broke away from hers and she sucked in a much needed draw of oxygen, but he didn't stop. He began to mouth his way down the side of her neck, nipping and kissing until he reached the juncture of it and clamped down hard, sucking a mark into the skin there.

As soon as she realized what he was doing through the fog of just she was wading through, she pushed him away, her jaw falling open and her hand flying to the site his lips just attached to.

“Did you just give me a fucking hickey?!” she whisper-shouted at him.

“Sorry?” Two fingers came up to scratch behind his ear and he poked his lower lip out, looking at her with decidedly unapologetic eyes through his dark lashes. Emma set her mouth into a thin line before lunging forward and attacking his lips with hers again. His hand shot to her waist to steady himself, her skin warming beneath his fingertips and electric spark shooting up her spine.

She ignored the sensations and the urge to let a shiver rip through her in favor of nipping and kissing her way along his jaw and down his throat. When her lips sealed tight around his pulse point, a growl worked from his throat that resonated into her own mouth and his hand shot from her midsection to bury itself in her long, blonde curls once again, holding her in place. His other arm pulled her flush against him and she released him with a an audible pop and a gasp at the feeling of his flesh and chest hair against her own bare skin. What was more, she could feel exactly how this was affecting him, the hard length of his erection pressing tightly against her through their layers of denim.

“Now we match,” she said breathlessly, looking up at him with hooded eyes. The fire behind his gaze flared at her words and his hand slid from her hair to grip her jaw firmly as he turned her and marched them backwards, pushing her against the wall hard enough that her teeth might have rattled if he hadn't been holding her jaw steady.

“I'll wear it like a badge of honor,” he rasped, then dipped his head to bury his face in her cleavage. Emma's hips rolled involuntarily towards his own and he thrust back hard, pinning her in place with his hips.

“Oh my God, I hate you,” she panted as he latched onto a nipple over the top of the crimson lace. He laughed, the sound sending electric sparks across her flesh where his mouth was still working her over. The scruff on his cheeks scraped over the swell of her breasts, surely leaving a burn behind, but Emma couldn't bring herself to care.

She hasn't even noticed Killian's hands travelling down her body and undoing the button and zip to her jeans until the fabric was being pulled down her damp thighs, along with her surely ruined panties.

“You keep saying that, love. I'm not entirely convinced that you do hate me after all,” he said, finally pulling away from yet another mark he was sucking into her breast. Emma opened her mouth to protest but all that came out was a low whine as Killian shoved his hand between her thighs and delved straight into her core with no preamble.

Emma was no longer in control of the actions of her own body, her hips rolling down against his fingers in time with the hard rhythm he’d set. Her eyes fluttered shut and she jumped slightly when Killian's lips pressed against her ear, hot and wet.

“Shh, my darling. You've got to keep quiet. We don't want anyone walking in and seeing your gorgeous face like this, watching you take your pleasure on my hand.” His rumbled words snapped her back to reality and she realized just how short on time they actually were.

“Maybe you should just shut up and fuck me then,” she shot back. It sounded much needier than she intended it to.

“Be careful what you wish for, Swan.” With that, he was kissing her again, his fingers working overtime and she felt the coil in her belly wind tight until it snapped in a burst of blinding color. Her body shook and shuddered, but Killian held her firm against him, his mouth swallowing down every blissful noise that poured from her lips. His fingers slowed as he helped her ride out her high and then he was pulling away abruptly, leaving Emma reeling and clutching at the wall to keep her upright in his wake.

It took a minute for Emma's floating head to register that Killian had dug out his wallet and was fishing a small foil packet from the leather folds and placing it gently between his teeth. His hands then busied themselves with undoing his belt and fastenings to his jeans. Emma's brain finally caught up with current events and she hurriedly kicked off her shoes and slipped her pants the rest of the way off of her body into a crumpled heap on the floor.

Killian pulled the condom from his mouth as his jaw slackened, his eyes hungrily roving her exposed form. Emma licked her lips at the sight of him hard and heavy in his own palm. When her gaze reconnected with his, he arched a brow and a slow, sexy smile spread over his cheeks.

“Always prepared,” he said with a wink, waving the condom at her and tearing it open. Emma rolled her eyes and plucked the condom from his fingers.

“Well, aren't you just a regular boy scout,” she snarked and replaced the hand he had curled around his cock with her own. He let out a strangled noise at the feeling of her hand on him.

“Why the bloody hell would a boy scout have a condom?” he asked, panting as she rolled the condom into place.

“I just meant that you- nevermind, just get in me Jones before I change my mind.” She let out an exasperated huff.

“As you wish.”

He was on her again in a second, his hands scooping up under her thighs so they folded around his waist and tossing her on her back on the bed. He wasted no time in crawling on top of her and entered her with one smooth thrust that both of them cursing and groaning. Whether it was because they had become aware of just how little time they might have left in privacy or if it was because their need for each other had reached a fever pitch, they set a breakneck pace that sent them both hurtling towards the edge of ecstasy at lightning speed.

“God, love you feel amazing. Perfect, like you were made for me.” His mumbled ramblings held no tease or sarcasm to them this time, and she buried her face in his neck to stifle her own moans.

When he bent his knees and changed the angle of his thrusts so that he hit the most sensitive spots inside of her, his pelvis grinding against her clit with every pass, it didn't take her long before she was falling apart again. He wasn't far behind, growling her name into the tangled mass of hair on her head as he spilled into the condom.

He leaned into her, pressing soft sweet kisses against her cheek and forehead in stark contrast to the rough quick fuck that had just happened. He looked down at her sated face with such affection that it made her insides twist in an entirely different way.

Emma winced as he pulled out of her and it took her a moment to gain her bearings on wobbly knees as he walked away to dispose of the condom. When he returned, he'd tucked himself away, but his clothes were still parted, making him look way sexier than anyone had any right to. Emma avoided looking at him as she gathered her clothes and slipped back into them.

An awkward silence descended between them.

Emma wasn't sure what to do or say next. She certainly didn't hate him as much as when she walked in the room but she was surprised to find it extended beyond that even. She wanted more, even if she wasn't ready to admit it.

“I don't really hate you you know,” she blurted into the silence of the room, making Killian's brows climb his forehead and a bark of a laugh burst from his lips.

“I gathered, Swan. I quite fancy you myself when you're not yelling at me,” he said, stepping forward and smoothing a lock of hair behind her ear. She rolled her eyes but she couldn't fight the smirk that dimpled her cheeks.

“Do you, uh, wanna get out of here?” she asked hesitantly, chewing on the edge of her lip.

“I would love to, Swan. Besides, I'm not sure that I'll be up to the dress code any longer.” He motioned down to his still parted shirt and Emma flushed hot, remembering how she'd divested him of his buttons.

“Oops?” she said and Killian narrowed his eyes playfully at her. “Didn't think that one through, I guess.”

“I can't say that it wasn't worth it,” he replied, his tongue poking at the corner of his mouth as he pulled his shirt open on one side to reveal thin red lines left behind on his shoulder by her nails. Emma felt her face heat further and her apologetic smile widen. “I suppose you'll just have to help me make my daring escape.”

“Let's go then,” she said.

They crept up the hallway, the dull roar of the party echoing after them, and stopped at David and Mary Margaret's room to retrieve their coats. Killian shrugged his on and wiggled his eyebrows at Emma as they made their way back past the way they had come from, intent on slipping out through the garage.

“Zip that up and stop being ridiculous,” she said as she donned her own coat and tugged her gray beanie into place.

“You love that I'm ridiculous,” he said on a throaty laugh, leaning in for another kiss.

“Oh, hey guys, I was just coming to- what in the hell?!” David's voice caused both of them to freeze in place, eyes locked to the other's before springing apart and looking sheepishly at Emma's brother.

“Uh… we made nice! Merry Christmas! We gotta go, bye!” Emma practically shoved Killian out the door and slammed it in David's face. As soon as they scrambled from the garage and hut the night air, they made a break for it to Emma's car. She started the little bug easily and they drove away, David's silhouette fading in the rearview mirror. Killian blew out a heavy breath.

“He is going to kill me, love,” he said after catching his breath.

“Nah. He couldn't hack the prison time.” Emma looked over at him with a brilliant smile.

“He'll at least knock some of the handsome out of me,” Killian said and shook his head.

“No one's that powerful,” Emma replied, a teasing lilt to her voice that he hadn't heard before. It was then that he realized that whatever this thing between them could become would be worth anything David (or anyone else's for that matter) could dish out.

“I always knew you'd come around, Swan.”

[joylessholland]

Forbidden (Part 1)

VAMPIRETOMXVAMPIREREADER

(1,651)

Warnings: Swearing, and i call Tom, Thomas in it so srry!

A/N: I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS! I really do hope you enjoy cuz there with be a part 2 like ive already planned it sooooo yeah. I love writing fantasy in good at it so if you want more plz let me know!

Masterlist    Requests                that is an actual picture of a necklace i own!

The old stairway creaked under your weight, this part of the manor was off limits to non-masters. So that means the guards weren’t allowed here either, the air grew colder and colder a wraith must be near you though. The bookshelf next to you looked sturdy enough, grabbing hold you gracefully spring up the side. Looking down you see a black billowy figure pass through the shelf in front of you, the creature was the size of a man, cloaked in black rags, smoke trailed behind it as it floated slowly through the air. For a moment you thought it spotted you but when it let out a soft ghastly moan and began to float away you knew you were in the clear.

“Conner, needs better watch dogs” you say to yourself as you gracefully hop from shelf to shelf. When you came to the end of the room a large window graced the room with beautiful moonlight. Whilst gliding down the shelf a book gets caught on your cloak and falls with you, you meet the ground first and whip you the side and catch the book two inches from the ground. Placing the book back on the shelf a hair-splitting scream echoes through the library, at the end of the row of bookcases a wraith smoothly glides towards you, frail grey hands outstretched tipped with long boney fingers and sharp black nails. Before the creature can grab you, it stops and moans loudly, your eyes light up a deep purple “I am [Y/N] Shroud, Princess of the Shroud Coven” you state firmly

“This area is off limits to those who are now of master ranking, thee be a prime, leave at once” the words were not spoken but you heard the in your mind. The voice was frail and dry it dripped with sorrow and hatred. “Oh, I’ll be leaving all right” you say stepping back to the window, reaching to open it your arm is grabbed. Five grey cold fingers grip your arm tightly the cold is so intense it sears your skin “You dare lay a hand on me” you snap, raising your arm you twist your hand dark energy swirls through the spaces in between your fingers. The creature releases you and screams again. “Hush” you command opening the window “You dirty witch” the shrill voice sound again “Only half witch” stepping on a box you hang one leg out the window still holding the creature.

Stepping out of the window and onto the ledge you are bathed in moonbeams, you can feel your powers swirl inside you. A drop from this height would send you down four stories, then you would roll into a chasm of unknow depth and die a horrible death, only if you were a mortal, alas you were no mortal you were the daughter of a Grand Master vampire and a Great Witch of the first order. Releasing the wall, you fall fast laughing all the way. Before you hit the ground your cloak parachutes and you touch the ground unscathed. Pulling your hood over your head you break into a sprint toward the gaping hole in the earth leaping at the last second. The other side came at you fast but inside you knew you wouldn’t make it, not to discourage yourself you did jump a thirty-five-foot gap to only come three feet short. Falling into the gap with a yelp, you grab the ends of your cloak and you pull your limbs to your chest and in a puff of lavender smoke a Black Hawk with purple eyes and deep violet wingtips shoots up into the sky with a loud screech it flies off into the night.

From your spot perched on a branch at the rendezvous point you spread your wings and slowly flap them through the air. You hadn’t flown free in so long, in your studies you were learning how to take mammal form but your father insisted you were taught to fly first. It was your legacy The Shroud Coven was known for their bird forms. You loved feeling the wind in your feathers, it was amazing and the moonlight made changing forms effortless. A twig snapping alerts your senses and you scan the area remembering how cool hawk vison was. The bushes to your right begin to rustle and you spot a large brown wolf with glowing green eyes prowl into view it sniffs the air and looks up to the spot where you’re perched in a tree, swooping down you land a foot away from the beast, stretching your wings you transform back into a young lady, pulling a feather from your dark locks you say “You turn, Thomas.” The wolf bows its head and in a swirl of mossy green smoke there kneels a man he looks up to you and stands. His eyes a bright green, running your hands through his brown curls he lays a tender kiss upon you lips.

“It’s been too long my love” he says caressing your cheek “It has” you say lifting your hand over his on your face when you notice a grey hand print on you forearm “What happens” Thomas says holding your arm in his hands “The wraith that guards the masters library got a hold of me, I used a binding spell to get away.” You say as he looks over the mark “He tried to work a dark kind of magic on you, maybe a fear curse to get you to bend to his will.” He says poking the grey spot making you hiss in pain your eyes glowing. “Let me try” he begins by waving his hand over the mark, green mist trickled from his fingers and swirls around your arm. The mist isn’t wet its warm and makes you feel safe. When the mist stops the mark and the chilling pain that came with it are gone, looking into Thomas’s eyes a tear falls down your cheek.

“Please don’t cry, my love” he says wiping the tear away “I love you” you speak softly “I love you and I shouldn’t, you love me and you shouldn’t.” Thomas scoffs off your remark “You are my everything [Y/N], if I didn’t have you… my eternal life would be meaningless” his voice so full of love. The princess of Shroud Coven and the heir to The Tackwood Coven were supposed to be immortal enemies, they would one day be at war with each other until, everything changed the night you saved Thomas from your cousins hunting party, he had gone out for a nightly run when he stumbled upon you cousins out hunting, they fought and left him for dead. You snuck out and wanted to fly as far as you could before dawn when you found him bloody and beaten, bruised and broken. He was so weak, in this very spot you used powerful magic that rendered you frail and weak to bring him back from the brink of death. He stayed with you and shielded you from the sun until you could bath in moonlight and regain your strength, through the day you spoke to him and began to fall deeply in love.

The night seemed never-ending as you and Thomas talked and made love. “I have something for you” Thomas said reaching into the pocket of his pants he pulls out a small velvet box and hand it to you. Opening it you find a necklace shaped like a diamond with a stunning jewel in the center “Thomas, it’s beautiful. Is that a moonstone?” you ask tracing the jewel “Yes, only the most beautiful jewel can grace the neck of such a beautiful woman” he said stroking your cheek. “I love it” you say closing the box and holding to your chest “I love you” he says kissing you.

Snapping his head up he shushes you, “Someone’s coming” he says standing helping you to your feet. When a large vulture swoops down and lands on a log across from you “Shit” you whisper and stand to block Thomas. “Behind us” he says as two lions one female, the other male step out of the shadows. All of the tree tops and bushes rustle, looking up you see birds perched among the trees and a quick scan of the underbrush makes it apparent that you surrounded by other creatures, or other vampires in creature form. “Father, please don’t do this” you plead. The vulture then in a swirl of black mist becomes a tall, lanky man with white hair and red eyes “You did this to yourself” his voice deep and firm with a thick accent. Behind you the lions have returned to their forms as the baron and baroness Tackwood. The Baron is a muscular man with green eyes like Thomas but his held a kind of anger and hatred that his sons did not, but the Baroness on the other hand was a kind looking woman short and plump with greying red hair. “Take him away” the Baron called and three large men came to grab Thomas. “No” you yell grabbing Toms arm as he is pulled away from your grasp “We will see each other again” he said sadly as he got dragged away. Tears sting your eyes as you look to the Tackwoods, the baron had changed back into a lion and let out a monstrous roar that shook the ground but the baroness stated at you with tears falling down her face before she transformed to followed her husband into the woods. Turning to your father you send out a bolt a violet energy which he catches and turns black. “That was your free shot, the next move you make better be the right one” he growls fizzling out the bolt of energy. Falling to your knees defeated you are taken away.

Here are some beautiful KITTENS: @midtownvaledictorian@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked@tiemeupspidey @captain-katie-xx@panicatttckiss@champagneholland@seilamigliorcosacheabbiamaivisto@mendes-holland @maggie-starz @natalie-kn@vaeyron@wonderyoung @ging3r-fall@louisnholland @little-weirdo-13@calumminter@sunshiineandmoonliight @m-snop@tomhstories @rosieeemma @societalreject @bibs-fortuna  @antisocialoutcast12 @jadabelle @las-civus  @oceantostars @tiemeupspidey @dr-tardis-who@hazelgracewatersaugustus @jessica-moon9 @sophietanda @yasstoeverygirloutthere @beccaaahh5711 @emptyy-skyy