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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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artificial scarcity || (soft)dark!Jake Jensen x reader

summary: you'll realize how good he can treat you, how badly you need him, one way or another. you just need a little encouragement, that's all.

word count: 4k, somehow...

warnings: smut! (dubcon; she is fully consenting but under dubious circumstances), drugging (technically), kidnapping, imprisonment, starvation, touch-starved reader, bed sharing, grinding/thigh fucking, size kink, spanking, implied stalking/voyeurism, implied noncon (kinda?), jake being possessive and manipulative and creepy

a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble which is why the pacing might feel a little rushed in the beginning but I hope you guys don’t mind!

Jake was normally a relatively patient guy, especially with you since he had an obvious soft spot for the newest member of the team. But after months of trying to get your attention, of his abysmal flirting not getting him anywhere, of you becoming more and more comfortable with the idea of him as a friend and nothing else, his patience was running thin.

He was tired of waiting for the perfect opportunity to rescue you and show you that he was the perfect guy for you. He was tired of waiting for you to figure out that he could be everything you needed if you just let him. So, he figured he needed to manufacture a chance to save you; he needed to take away some things just to bring them back, show you what it was like to let him take care of you.

Getting close to you was easy, you were teammates and friends so you trusted him. The tricky thing was he didn't want you to know it was him, so he used your trust to lure you right into his trap.

Movie night tonight? There’s some cheesy slasher playing at the drive in at 1930, he texted you as soon as he could to the showtime to decrease the odds of you having any time to tell anyone about your plans to meet up with him; he’d rather not have the heat of being the last person to see you before your disappearance.

yeah sure! are you driving? you replied almost instantly.

Yep, I’ll pick you up at S Lamar and Hanover in 10, he informed you, knowing it was close to your apartment but far away from any security cameras or likely witnesses.

He parked a block away and walked around the corner to see you standing there under the flickering streetlight looking at your phone. You were waiting for him, and as he hid behind cover to come closer, you were clearly looking around for where he might be. Thankfully, you didn't see him or his tranq gun, and he got your neck on the first shot.

He ran to catch you before you fell, relishing the weight of your body limp and pliant in his arms. Somehow, he resisted the urge to play with you now, knowing it would be worth the wait to let his whole plan come to fruition.

The room he locked you in was dark and damp, barely any light but enough to see the half-full water bottle he left for you; your chain was short but you could reach everything you needed. It broke his heart to hear your cries but he had to ignore them, if he came in now it wouldn't make sense. He needed to be patient.

When the video feed from his camera inside showed that you'd fallen asleep for the night, he snuck in to bring you a new water bottle and a little granola bar since you'd screamed all day about being hungry. You seem surprised when you woke up and saw it, quickly grabbing the bar but taking a long time to examine and smell it first before eating, like you were afraid it was poisoned. But you ate, and drank your water, and waited for rescue.

Day 3 was the hardest to watch. You tugged at your chain so much that he worried you'd hurt yourself. He decided tomorrow was the last day because he couldn't take any more of this.

On the fourth day, he waited until you started to cry yourself to sleep before shutting down his equipment and finally coming to the door; he took a deep breath, preparing himself, before dramatically kicking it down and gasping when he saw you. He called your name into the dark and you barely had the energy to open your eyes, poor thing.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" he yelped, dashing over to where you were chained and picking at the lock. "I'm gonna get you out, don't worry, you're safe now."

"Jensen...?" you mumbled sleepily, making him smile and stroke your face a little.

"Yeah, I'm right here."

He carried you to his car and drove you home-- not your old home, your new one which also happened to be his apartment.

"I think it's time to wake up, I'm guessing you wanna take a shower," he cooed at your sleeping form, watching you stir in his arms before finally blinking your eyes open and looking up at him.

"Oh," you whispered. "Did I fall asleep?"

"Yes," he laughed, "you've been out the whole ride here."

"Oh…” you repeated, “and where are we?"

"My apartment. I didn't want to leave you alone right now."

You nodded, seemingly in agreement. "You can put me down now."

He reluctantly did as you'd asked, watching you carefully put weight back on your legs.

"Woah!" he chuckled when you wobbled a bit, reaching out to catch you, but you recovered.

"Thank you," you whispered, and he smiled at you.

"Just wish I'd found you sooner.”

"Um, you said I can take a shower?"

"Yeah, down that hall, first door on the right. I'll bring you some clothes,” he explained, and you smiled weakly before navigating your way to the bathroom.

You looked so good in his clothes that his heart skipped a beat when he saw you step out into the living room. The t-shirt that was almost too tight on him was baggy on you, reminding him of how delicate you were in so many ways, how much bigger he was than you.

It reminded him that if he really wanted to, he could force himself on you and you'd be helpless to stop him. But that wasn't what he wanted. It was going to be so much better this way.

"Wanna go to bed now? I'll take the couch," he offered.

"N-no," you stammered, and he gave you a quizzical look. "I don't… I don't want you that far away."

"Okay, I could sleep on the floor," he bargained instead, "in my room, with you."

"No," you sighed again, "then I won't be able to see you."

"I'll be right there," he reminded you.

"It's a king, right? You can share with me."

"Are you sure?" he pressed. "I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"No, please, this is the only way I'll be comfortable."

"Okay," he smiled, guiding you to the bedroom. He let you watch him take off his shirt and smirked a little when he saw you ogling.

"I usually just sleep in boxers," he admitted nervously. "I'll put on some pajama pants at least."

"It's fine, really," you smiled. "I don't wanna be any more of a burden than I already am."

"You're not a burden."

"And I'm not gonna wear pants to bed anyways," you shrugged.

"O-oh."

But he hadn't given you a new pair of panties to wear because he didn't have any to give you. Which meant that if you took off the sweats he'd given you, that'd leave you in his shirt and nothing else.

He tried not to let that thought go straight to his cock as he unbuttoned and pushed down his pants, seeing you conflicted on where to look, before getting in bed. You did the same, taking the sweats off once you were under the covers and tossing them out from under the blanket.

"Goodnight," he smiled as he turned off the lamp, hearing you whisper it back before starting to shift around and get comfortable.

He didn't have to wait nearly as long as he had expected to hear you meekly whisper, "Jensen?"

"Yeah, is everything alright?" he asked, voice full of concern.

"I… I don't want to ask you for anything else…" you sighed.

"No, hey, it's okay," he assured, "ask for anything."

"Would you, um, would you hold me?"

He cleared his throat a little. "If you need me to."

"Please, it's the only way I'll be able to sleep."

He sighed a little but relented, coming over to your side of the bed and spooning you, gingerly laying one arm over you and trying to avoid touching you anywhere too personal.

"Thank you," you sighed sleepily.

"Whatever you need,” he assured.

"Jake, why are you doing all this for me?" you asked quietly, turning back a little to look at him.

"You're my teammate, nobody gets left behind,” he explained. “Besides, this is all my fault anyways. You were waiting for me when they got you."

"No, Jake, don't say that. It's not your fault."

"Alright, but it's not yours either. You didn't deserve that."

“You’re right, but I don’t deserve this either,” you mumbled.

“Yes, you do.”

You shifted slightly against him, humming contentedly, and he groaned.

"I think maybe we should stop," he hissed, pulling away— but you stopped him by grabbing his arm.

"No, wait," you whimpered. "Why? What’s wrong?"

"I, uh, I guess I'm just experiencing some of the consequences of laying in bed with a beautiful woman…"

"Huh?"

"The, um, the biological consequences."

"I— oh,” you whispered.

"Yeahhh...” he trailed off awkwardly.

"No, hey, it's okay. I don't mind, I mean, you can't help it,” you shrugged.

"Sorry, I'm not normally this easily amused but it's been a while, so…"

"I understand," you assured, "really, it's okay… just don't go."

He just barely heard your gasp as he pressed himself against you, his shaft cradled perfectly between each soft globe of your ass. "Is this okay?" he asked quietly.

"Y-yeah," you answered, making him suppress a laugh since it was obvious you were noticing his size. He would bet a grand at least that you were getting wet right now, if he had anyone to bet against.

Your back arched a little, pushing your ass into him with more force, and you actually started to rock your hips ever so slightly.

"Stop moving," he hissed through his teeth.

"I'm not…" you denied weakly.

"Yes you are, you're… rubbing yourself on me."

"I'm sorry, it just feels good,” you admitted sleepily, surprising him with your forwardness. “You like it too, right?"

"Yes, but I feel like I'm taking advantage of you,” he admitted worriedly.

"You're not,” you promised, “you did so much for me— you saved me— and I want to help you, too. You said it's been a while since you were with anybody, I could help you out… you know, you could rub up against me until you…"

He groaned a little but leaned in closer until his lips were right against your ear. "Are you sure? Don't do me any favors, you don't owe me anything."

"I want you to," you assured, making him smile and nod a bit, taking a moment to enjoy a deep breath as he prepared himself.

Carefully, he began to rock his hips forward, rubbing his cock on you through his boxers. Even with a layer of cotton in the way he could feel your warmth, he could imagine how smooth your skin was. If you hadn't been able to make out the shape of him before, you certainly could now— the ridge of his head was probably digging into you, and on particularly long thrusts he could feel your ass against his balls (which, inversely, meant you could feel his balls against your ass).

He held your hips as he picked up his pace a bit, grinding into you and breathing heavily in your ear. You gasped and tried to hide a moan by biting your lip but he heard it. It was even more obvious when he whispered your name to you, heavy with desire, and rubbed your spine with his finger. Your back arched even further, inviting him to push harder against you until he felt the slightest wet patch forming on his boxers— not from him, from you. It made his cock throb and his breath catch in his throat.

Overcome with need, he pushed his boxers down quickly before getting back to it, both of you moaning at the feeling of his skin on yours. He was so close to your pussy he could hardly stand it, and he knew you must be dripping right now, desperate to be filled. He could probably slip right in and you wouldn't even stop him, but that wasn't what he needed from you right now. You needed to ask him for it. He knew you wanted it, but he needed you to know you wanted it.

A drop of precum formed at his slit, smearing onto your skin and easing his way further.

"I want you to feel good, too," he whispered. "I don't just want to use you."

He pushed his cock down and slipped it between your thighs instead, sliding right against your wet, silky folds. You whined beautifully as he thrusted forward, your thighs clenching (and therefore gripping him even tighter) when his cock slid right over your clit.

Your wetness was plentiful enough to drench him just from this, so he already knew the answer but he still asked, "does it feel good?"

"Yes," you sighed. "Yes, it's good…"

He knew he could make you come like this, and he knew exactly how to, but that wouldn't get him what he wanted. Instead he only gave you enough to keep you on the edge, moving too slow to really let you finish. You even tried to move faster but his grip on your hips was too tight, keeping you still so he could savor his own pace and keep you desperate.

"Fuck me," you moaned.

"I don't have a condom," he whispered nervously.

"I don't care, just please…"

That was all the encouragement he needed, pulling back enough to guide his head to your entrance before sliding right in. Your wet, hot walls stretched open to accept him, struggling against his girth but eventually giving way.

Your hand shot back to grab onto his thigh, trying to keep him from going too deep, but he had no intentions of holding back now that he was inside you; he delicately grabbed your wrist and guided your hand back to your chest where he wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly.

"Baby," he moaned into your ear as his hips met yours. "This is my pussy now."

You gasped and shivered in his arms, eyes falling shut as he pulled back and pushed in again, incredibly slow but as deep as he could push himself.

Your moans were perfect, even better than the ones he'd heard when he hacked into your webcam because it wasn't just your fingers or toy anymore, it was him— exactly what you'd always needed, whether you knew it or not. He'd dreamed of this for so long and now that he had you he couldn't imagine ever letting you go. Every inch of your channel was like heaven, every moan was somehow more beautiful than the last.

"That's it, baby, take all of me," he purred when he pressed deep into your cunt, holding your hips so the tip of his cock hit the deepest parts of you. You made the cutest little choking noise and he kissed your neck while trying his best to make you do it again, moving faster and slapping his hips against yours more firmly.

"Jake," you managed to whimper, and he groaned through his teeth.

"Yeah, I'm right here," he promised. "That's me inside you, sweetheart, that's my cock filling you up."

He leaned back slightly and pulled your ass apart so he could see his cock stretching you out, disappearing into your body. It made his head fall back for a moment before he pulled you close again and started thrusting faster. He reached around and brought two fingers to your clit, rubbing it fiercely as he kept thrusting.

"Oh fuck," you moaned, "Jake, right there… I'm gonna come…"

He laughed a little, kissing your ear as a show of approval. "Baby, you're so sensitive," he praised, giving your clit a little spank. You cried out and shuddered, bouncing yourself back on his cock, meeting his thrusts. Amused by your neediness, he stopped moving and watched you go.

"There you go, sweetheart, fuck yourself with my cock. Make yourself come."

You whined and kept going, your ass slapping against his hips loudly. He kept rubbing your clit as you worked his cock, your walls starting to clench down on him rhythmically and your body beginning to shake.

The absolute second he heard you cry out with pleasure as you reached the peak, he grabbed you and rolled both of you over until you were on your stomach and he was brutally fucking you into the mattress. He could still feel you pulsing around his length, gripping him tight and pulling him deeper.

"That's it, keep fuckin' coming for me," he groaned. "Gimme one more and then I'm gonna fill you up."

"Jake!" you yelped, grabbing onto the pillow and even biting it as he slammed into you.

"You're so good, baby, your pussy feels so good," he growled, pinning you down by your shoulders as he sped up even more. He laughed when he felt your walls weakly fluttering, his balls hitting your swollen clit with each thrust. "Gonna come again already, baby? Just from my cock?"

"Yes," you sobbed hoarsely, "yes, Jake, I'm gonna come again— oh my god, please don't stop…"

"Oh, I won't stop," he assured. "You take it so fuckin' good, sweetheart, like you were made for it. Like you were made for me."

You moaned loudly and he took the opportunity to spank you— not incredibly hard but enough to make you whine a bit… and get even wetter.

"Oh fuck, you like that huh?" he purred with a grin. "You like it rough."

"Yes, fuck, I love it," you agreed with a moan. "I'm— I'm coming, Jake, don't stop."

"Yeah, I know," he chuckled, "I can feel it. Feels so good when you come on my cock, baby…"

You went suddenly from arching your back and gripping the pillow to falling limp and relaxing, your body his toy now as he fucked you to the point of overstimulation. Your moans were exhausted and muffled now, your walls clinging to him desperately as he continued stroking every sensitive place he could reach (which was all of them).

He could so easily pull out and paint your back, or jerk himself off over your ass, but if he was going to claim your body then he was going to do it right.

He didn't warn you in advance, just in case you suddenly decided to tell him to pull out, but he did make sure you knew what he was doing. "Fuck, I'm coming!" he moaned as his cock flexed and his seed filled you, still thrusting in time with each pump of his release. It was nearly overwhelming, physically and psychologically. He was finally filling you like he'd fantasized about basically every time he got off since he met you, finally making you his the way you should've been from the beginning.

He sighed and laid down on top of you, smiling as he kissed all over your face, neck, shoulders, and back.

You giggled sleepily, but whined when he tried to pull out, bringing your legs up to hold him inside. "Don't go yet," you pleaded.

"Okay, baby, I'll stay right here until you fall asleep," he promised. "Goodnight, beautiful…"

Not only could he not think of a night he'd slept better in his life, but he was pretty sure this was the best any man had slept in the history of sleep. But even then, he wasn't at all disappointed when you woke him up.

"Good morning," you whispered in his ear with a giggle, making him blink his eyes open and look down at where you were resting your face on his chest.

"Good morning," he returned with a grin, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close.

"Last night was… pretty amazing," you smiled coyly, and he stroked your cheek as he felt it warm even more.

"Yeah, you have no idea," he chuckled, lifting your head so he could give you a kiss. It was supposed to be quick and wholesome but you deepened it instantly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Just as you started to climb up to straddle him, he heard your stomach loudly growl and he pulled back to laugh.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but it sounds like you've got some other needs to take care of first," he smirked.

"Ugh, you're right," you sighed, "I'm going raid your kitchen."

"No, let me do that, I'll make you something— whatever you want," he offered, starting to sit up, but you pushed him back down.

"Jake, you've done enough for me already. I don't even know what I want, that's why I wanna go look at what you have."

"If you insist," he relented, watching you hop out of bed and playfully smacking your ass when it was within reach. You giggled and scampered away, leaving him to lay back and put his hands up behind his head, taking a deep breath of satisfaction. His plan had not only worked but gone beyond his expectations— clearly you had wanted this, on some level, from the beginning, you were too eager for him to believe otherwise. But that didn't matter now, because you were finally his and it was exactly as he'd dreamed it would feel: right, undeniably and overwhelmingly right.

He decided to take a break from basking in his own glory for a while to get up and find some food for himself as well. After all, he planned on fucking you at least one more time today so he'd need lots of energy to keep him going.

He slipped back on his boxers and walked to the kitchen, finding you there standing oddly still. "What are you doing?" he asked with a bemused scoff.

"Jake…" you mumbled, staring into the cabinet blankly.

"What's wrong?" he asked, stepping closer but stopping in his tracks when he saw what you were looking at: a six-pack box of granola bars. He sighed a little as he internally chided himself for such a rookie mistake. "Baby, seriously, what's wrong?"

"I… these… this is the same kind they gave me… it was the only thing I ate for almost four days."

"Oh my god," he whispered, stepping up behind you and wrapping his arms around you to try to soothe you. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring back any bad memories. You only ate granola bars for four days? Honey, you must be starving, please just let me cook you something—"

"No, not only granola bars: only a granola bar. Just one…"

You reached up to grab the box but he held you tighter, trying to stop you. Instead what happened was you accidentally knocked the box over, exactly five bars sliding out and landing on the floor with a crinkly thud.

You gasped with realization and tried to squirm away but his comforting hug turned into restraint instantly. "Jake, let me go…"

"I'm sorry, baby, but I don't think I can do that."

"Jake, please," you begged with a sob. "Why did you— how could you?"

"I know you had feelings for me, you just needed a little encouragement."

"Feelings for you? I hate you!"

"Huh, that's odd, because I distinctly remember you begging me to fuck you last night,” he taunted. “I remember you coming for me, twice. Is that what you normally do when you hate somebody?"

"You're a monster," you sneered.

"And you're stuck with me, whether you like it or not," he chuckled, spinning you around to bend you over the counter, pressing his hips against yours as you whined and failed to squirm away. "So you might as well let yourself like it."

#dark!jake jensen x reader #jake jensen dark fic #soft!dark jake jensen #jake jensen x reader

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lovely-ateez · 4 years ago

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Vampire Shift~

ꕥPosted: 5/23/21

ꕥGenre: Fluff, Smut, Angst, College!au, Horror!au

ꕥPairing: Fem!Reader x Vampire!Jongho (feat Wooyoung and Minho from skz)

ꕥWord Count: ~5.9k (whoops)

ꕥWarnings: Horror themes, Language, Thigh riding, Unprotected sex, Mentions of blood and blood sucking (please lmk if I missed anything)

ꕥTag List: @cappujinho @bobateastay

ꕥA/N: I hope you all don’t a more spooky concept! Halloween is my favorite holiday and even though its May, it’s always spooky season to me lolol. Also! Feel free to listen to Vampire Shift by All Time Low while reading this (it’s only on YouTube I cry) since this is inspired by the song :)

It was a terrible idea, really, to work the night shift at a gas station alone. Even more so when you’re a young woman whose only defense is the pepper spray on her key chain and 911 on speed dial. Alas, college bills don’t pay themselves and every spare opportunity to get cash was one I had to take.

The digital clock sitting on the counter next to me briefly flashed, indicating another hour had gone by. It was currently four a.m. and it was safe to say I was losing my mind. I’d worked for five hours now, and not a customer had come in. That was the only advantage, really. So long as no one was around my boss let me finish any assignments I had, which came in handy on more than one occasion.

I was only six paragraphs into a five page report and had been staring at my laptop screen for over an hour, feeling beyond brain dead. I was assigned the topic of financial statements and country trade deficits, and wanted to cry every minute I thought about it. I was half convinced to pay someone to write the report for me.

The ringing of a bell indicated a customer opening the door and I closed my laptop to peer around the counter, ready to greet whoever entered. The first man to catch my attention was wearing sunglasses which fazed me, but I tried not to stare. The man that followed had black hair with blond underneath, a combination that I strangely liked. Both men were donned in all back, their faces stoic. They were attractive, I had to admit, but neither were my type.

And then, the last man entered. He looked over to me as he walked through the door, giving me a nod and a slight smile. His slicked back black hair matched his black ripped jeans and highlighted his red leather jacket. He was so handsome he looked like he jumped out of a magazine and I had to suppress a ‘wow’. A string of butterflies fluttered in my stomach and I did my best to ignore them, not even knowing his name.

The three of them wandered through the aisles until I could no longer see them, and I scolded myself for being so thrown off that I forgot say any form of a greeting. I sighed and turned my attention back to my laptop, opening it and blankly staring at the screen. My ears perked when I heard the men’s hushed voices.

“Y’oughta get that girl’s number. I saw the way you looked at her.”

“Yeah, Jongho. She’s pretty cute. If you don’t get her number you know I will.”

“Shut up.” One of the men, Jongho apparently, responded with a laugh, “Let’s just get some snacks, okay? It’s gonna be a long night. Also I’m buying tonight so get whatever.”

A smile crept on my face and I looked down, fiddling with my thumbs.

They think I’m cute. Maybe Jongho’s the one in red?

I heard the bell ring once more and a girl entered who I vaguely remembered from high school. She was popular but for good reason, probably being one of the nicest people I’d ever met. Our circle of friends overlapped slightly so I’d spent a fair amount of time with her. She was smart as a whip and gorgeous all the same, which seemed to stay with her. She looked bright, long red hair falling around her face, freckles still prominent as ever.

We met eyes and she smiled, “Hey y/n!”

I smiled and waved, “Hey Annabelle. How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you in awhile.”

“Good! I got into my dream college and it’s been great, although I’ve had to take some pretty hard classes.” She giggled, walking towards me. It’s honestly not too far from here. You go to Westgate University, right?”

I nodded and I put my laptop aside. She spoke again, genuinely excited for me, “That’s awesome! Congrats!”

“Thanks,” I smiled, “I’m taking it you got into Orholt?”

“I did! I was really-”

One of the men that entered earlier—the one still wearing sunglasses—shouted the redhead’s name and caught her attention, “Hey Anna do you want a Redbull or a Five Hour Energy?”

“Redbull! I’m not a monster.” She laughed.

The man nodded and walked toward us with several drinks and snacks in his hands.

“Oh! I want to introduce you to my boyfriend!” Annabelle turned to the man still wearing sunglasses and reached for his arm, “This is Minho. I met him at Orholt.”

Minho gave me a slight nod as I introduced myself and he placed the food and drinks on the counter. I began to scan the items, the mindless routine that I was used to by now. The loud sound of laughter made me look up, seeing the two other men approach us and place their snacks down as well. I watched them long enough to notice the way two-tone—my new affectionate name for the man with blond and black hair, I decided—shamelessly checked me out, a cocky smile on his face when I caught him. I just let out a small laugh before resuming my task, watching his confused reaction in my peripheral vision.

“Oh my god I totally forgot to introduce you to my friends.” Annabelle giggled and pointed to two-tone, “This is Wooyoung.”

“Hiya, Wooyoung.” I said with a confident smile, enjoying the way he still had a slightly confused look on his face.

“And this,” Annabelle nodded towards the man in red, “This is Jongho. Both him and Wooyoung go to Orholt, too.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jongho. I’m y/n.”

“Very nice to meet you.” The man smiled before he sent me a wink.

I had never been a particularly shy person, but as he did so my eyes darted down as I felt my face flush. I didn’t notice the gears turning in Annabelle’s head as she put the pieces together.

I placed the final items in the bag, raising my head as Annabelle addressed me, “You know I’m having a bonfire tomorrow night at my place and you should totally come!”

I stopped to think, first trying to remember if I worked the next day, then wondering if I was willing to go the bonfire when I realized I didn’t have to.

She sensed my hesitancy and her face fell, “Aw do you work tomorrow night? It’s a Saturday!”

“Oh no, I don’t. I...” I stopped to think for a minute. Although I likely didn’t know anyone else who would be there, I was familiar with Annabelle’s house, which brought me a bit of comfort, “Are all of you going?”

Annabelle gave a knowing smile, “Yes. All of us will be here.”

I nodded, accepting the credit card Jongho gave me, quickly after handing them the bags, and returning his card, “I’ll go.”

“Yay! We’ve gotta head out but I’ll send you the details. You’ve still got the same number, right?”

“Yeah I do.”

“Alrighty! I’ll see you tomorrow then!”

Annabelle left with a wave, her boyfriend on her arm and Wooyoung behind her. To my surprise, Jongho didn’t leave with them, the cocky look on his face all but telling me why he stayed.

I looked at him with wide eyes, playing innocent. “Can I help you?”

He placed an arm on the counter, his dark eyes seeming to put me under a spell. The confidence he was radiating was almost palpable and I felt myself being pulled to him. It was intimidating, to be honest.

“You’re really cute and I want your number.”

I let out a surprised laugh, “You really don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

“No, not really,” He propped his other arm on the counter, leaning towards me and raising an eyebrow, “So what do you say, doll?”

A smile crept on my face as I mirrored his actions and leaned towards him, “You gonna memorize my number? Or do you have a phone I can put my number into?”

Jongho’s smile got brighter as he reached to grab his phone, handing it to me. “You’re a firecracker, aren’t you?”

I shrugged, “I’d like to think so.”

When I handed his phone back, our fingers brushed and I could’ve sworn I felt sparks shoot through me at the simple interaction.

“Well I need to head out before the rest of them get too annoyed,” He nodded towards the exit where Annabelle, Minho, and Wooyoung left, “But it was enchanting to meet you, y/n.” He bowed, drawing a laugh from me.

“Ah yes. You as well, absolutely delightful.”

He gave me a smile, “I’ll text you later.”

"Sounds good. I’ll hold you to your word.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” And with that, he was out the door, leaving my heart a fluttering mess.

Me [8:37pm] So is there a dress code for tonight?

Annabelle [8:42pm] Nope! Wear whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m wearing this if it helps at all!

Annabelle [8:43pm] 1 Image Attached*

Me [8:45pm] So leather jackets and crop tops?

Annabelle [8:48pm] Haha sure! We can match!

Me [8:51pm] Lol bet. See you at eleven :)

Annabelle [8:51pm] See you then!

I started the process of slipping on a white cropped top followed by my light washed ripped jeans. I knew I was getting ready far earlier than I could have, but something about new events made me anxious and I had to make sure I looked nice. I giggled at the black leather jacket I was throwing over my shoulders, not having worn it since high school. In the middle of debating whether or not I should add another layer of mascara to my lashes, my phone dinged.

New Number [8:59pm] Y/n this better be you. This is Jongho and I’m texting you for a really important reason and I need you to reply quick

Me [9:00pm] Yeah it’s me. What’s going on are you okay??

New Number [9:02pm] I’m gonna go grab some food before I head to Anna’s. You wanna come with?

Me [9:02pm] Oh my god don’t do that to me, you buffoon. You scared me so bad rip

[New Number name changed to A Cute Buffoon]

Me [9:03pm] But sure I’m down lol. Here’s my address btw

Me [9:03pm] 1 Location Shared*

It occurred to me perhaps a bit too late that I was sharing my address with someone that I’d met only once and in a gas station.

I mean, he’s friends with Annabelle so he’s gotta be good right? God I hope so. I thought to myself.

A Cute Buffoon [9:04] Then it’s a date :) I live pretty close so I’ll be over in 10. That work for you?

Me [9:06pm] Fine with me!

A Cute Buffoon [9:06pm] Sounds good. I’ll see you soon ;)

I set down my phone and thanked myself for already doing my makeup. I checked myself out in the mirror, satisfied with my appearance and proud of how well my makeup turned out. I grabbed my bottle of perfume and spritzed the liquid in the air, letting it gradually fall on me so it wouldn’t be too overpowering.

You look beautiful, babe.

The waiting game was harder than I thought, not knowing what to do except awkwardly sit around and play an assortment of phone games. When exactly ten minutes had passed I heard my doorbell ring and I lifted myself from my couch, grinning at his punctuality.

I opened the door to see Jongho holding a bouquet of flowers, a smug look on his face. “Lovely to meet you here, stranger.”

I wanted to make a joke back but I couldn’t seem to think of anything, too surprised by the flowers in his hands. It wasn’t anything extravagant, the small bouquet of violets, but I felt my heart swell.

It’s perfect. He’s perfect.

My voice was small when I spoke, “No one’s ever given me flowers before.”

His eyebrows furrowed as a confused look painted his face, “Really?”

I nodded, taking the flowers from his outreached hands and smelling their sweet fragrance, “They’re beautiful.”

My eyes flickered to his, the tender look on his face making me feel as if I was melting on the spot, “You’re beautiful.”

I squealed, my face undoubtedly turning pink while my mind short circuited. I’d never become so shy around someone before and the only thing I could think of to say in response was another ‘thank you’ followed by ‘I’ll go get a vase for these.’

I opened my door further, rummaging through my cabinets for a vase when I noticed Jongho was still standing by the door, “You can come in, you know? That’s why I opened the door.”

He laughed nervously, “Sorry about that. Force of habit, I guess.”

I raised my eyebrows in a teasing manner, “What? Are you a vampire? Can you only come in if someone invites you?”

I thought I saw a flicker of shock on his face for a moment, but it was gone before I could register it and I shrugged it off, my eyes finding the perfect vase for the flowers.

“It’s just how I was raised.”

“I get that.” I placed the flowers in the vase, giving them a bit of water before walking up to Jongho and gently patting his cheek, “Your good manners are appreciated.”

He laughed in surprise, full gummy smile on display as he playfully swatted my hand away from his face, “Alright, alright. Let’s head out already.”

I made a sound of agreement before noticing a slight pink on his ears. I was temped to tease him, but ultimately decided to save it for later. If I could fluster him once I knew I could do it again.

The diner we went to was one I’d never heard of before, let alone been to, and I was beyond frustrated that I didn’t even know about it’s existence. It was an adorable fifties style diner and even the attire the waiters were wearing fit the theme.

“This is the cutest place to ever exist, I’m convinced.” I said as we sat down on the same side of a bright red booth.

“I really hoped you would like it. This is my favorite restaurant ever and they have fantastic milkshakes. If you’d like to share one for desert, I’m all for it.” A wink.

I bit my lip and hid my face in the menu that was placed in front of us, thankful for any method of escape.

“You’re so cute.”

“Ahh no don’t say things like that.” I giggled from behind the menu.

His hand grabbed the top of the menu, pulling it down so he could see me, “Why’s that?”

“Because you make me nervous. Like a good nervous!” I tried to explain, which only resulted in becoming even more embarrassed, “I-I mean I’m excited to be around you but I’m also nervous. I hope that doesn’t sound weird.” I cringed at myself. Never in my life did I think I’d be blushing and stuttering over some man, but my god did he prove me wrong.

“Not at all,” he reached over to take my hand in his, “because I feel it, too.”

Before I could properly react our waitress came over, taking our order and effectively saving me from becoming a human tomato.

We handed our menus back to her after ordering and she looked at us with a soft smile, “You two make a cute couple.”

While I was a bit too stunned to say anything, Jongho didn’t seem to have the same problem and went along with it, “Thank you, ma’am. That’s kind of you to say.”

When she left, Jongho leaned closer to me, “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable by saying that we we’re a couple. I thought that-”

“No, I didn’t mind it!” I bit my tongue after likely saying that way too fast with far too much enthusiasm, but I meant it, “I didn’t mind it,” I said again, softer this time.

The tips of his ears once again turned a faint shade of pink, “Good to know.”

The food was as wonderful as it possibly could’ve been, their fries alone being one of the best things I’d ever consumed. Just as Jongho suggested, we shared a milkshake, which led to shy eye contact and laughter and my crush becoming stronger by the minute.

Just as Jongho paid and we were about to leave, a certain song began to play and he looked at me with an air of mischief, holding out his hand to me, “Dance with me.”

I took his hand, trying to hide my smile but failing. He led me away from the table and next to the jukebox. The area surrounding it was more open, probably with the intention for people to dance near it. He grabbed my waist, holding the hand of mine that wasn’t placed on his chest and looking at me in a way that could make any woman fall in love on the spot. We swayed to the music and I couldn’t help but feel full. Like I’d found all that I’d ever need.

Put your head on my shoulder~

“Do you know this song?” He asked with a smile.

I scoffed, “Of course I do! It’s one of my favorites.”

“It’s one of mine, too.”

Hold me in your arms, baby~

I mouthed along to the words as I felt the need to prove it to him. As if to one up me, Jongho began to sing along, his gorgeous voice amazing me.

Squeeze me oh so tight, show me~

That you love me, too~

I blushed as he looked at me while singing along, becoming a bit flustered himself when the lyrics clicked with him.

Put your lips next to mine dear~

Won’t you kiss me once, baby~

As if we were in sync our eyes darted to the other’s lips at the same time. I could feel Jongho’s breathing becoming heavier before he said in a hushed tone, “Can I kiss you?”

“Please.” Was all I could respond before I pressed my lips to his, fireworks igniting inside me when he kissed me back. His lips were so soft and warm and as crazy as it sounded, he felt like home. I felt him smile against my lips as the music continued to play.

Maybe you and I will fall in love~

The fire was loud, crackling and lighting up the faces of all those crowded those around it. It was essentially the only source of light in the dark of the night, except for the distant lights still on in Annabelle’s house. My hands were interlocked with Jongho’s as we sat around it’s warmth, both of us finding it hard to separate from one another.

Conversation was flowing all around us, and I was relieved to find that everyone I had talked to was kind and welcoming. I was more nervous than I realized, but having Jongho next to my side alone calmed me. Someone around the fire mentioned an old story involving Annabelle and I began to wonder where she was, having not seen her since Jongho and I first arrived. I mentioned I was going to look for her and he nodded, at first wanting to join me but then getting pulled into conversation with one of his former classmates. I told him I’d head off on my own and he nodded again.

I looked around what seemed to be the entire property and still there was no sight of her. At that moment I heard yelling coming from her house, startling me. I felt my blood run cold when I recognized one of the voices as Annabelle’s. The yelling didn’t sound like it was out of fear, but instead more aggressive, out of pure anger. Without thinking I ran inside, hoping to calm the situation but instead found what seemed to be out of a work of fiction.

An unfamiliar man was on the ground, obviously trying to get away from a hidden figure before him that seemed to be cloaked in darkness. He let out a sound that I’d never heard a human make, one that I couldn’t even compare to something I’d heard before, and a shiver ran down my back. As the figure took a step forward I recognized it as Annabelle, or what seemed to be some version of her. Her normally grey eyes were now bright red, sharp fangs on display as she snarled at the man. A group of people were surrounding them, alarmed looks on their faces but hardly trying to intervene.

“What the hell?” I whispered, my eyes wide as I tried to back away without anyone noticing. But of course, I just had to step on an empty soda can, all eyes pointing my way. As I looked at the people around me, their expressions seemed to mirror mine and I swallowed, suddenly feeling immensely claustrophobic.

I met eyes with Annabelle and she seemed to change in a flash, her eyes returning to their former color and fangs disappearing. She looked more panicked than I had ever seen her which only scared me more. She was always able to keep her stressors under control, but as she stared back at me, I saw a version of her I never had before.

I was barely able to form a sentence, adrenaline coursing through me at a rampant rate, “Um...”

Annabelle slowly walked towards me, “Oh—hey! Sorry I disappeared for a while but how’s the party going? Are you having fun?” Panic was still evident in her voice but I knew she was trying to keep a hold of the situation.

“I...I don’t-”

A stern voice came from left, and I nervously turned to meet Jongho, an unreadable expression crossing his face, “Y/n.”

“Yeah?” My voice squeaked as I began to regret agreeing to come along in the first place, still hyper aware of all the eyes on me.

“Come with me.”

His eyes softened at my panicked state and he held out a hand, “Please?”

I was hesitant, but being anywhere away from the crowd and whatever Annabelle turned into seemed to be a good idea. I took his hand and watched as he exchanged a look with Annabelle that seemed to calm her. Turning on his heels he led me back to the bonfire, sitting in a chair and motioning for me to do the same. Seeing no one around us gave me a feeling of both anxiety and comfort, and I wasn’t quite sure which feeling was winning at the moment.

“Well I’m sure you have plenty of questions.” He started, “I won’t lie to you and try to convince you what you saw wasn’t real, because it was, but I need you to know that no one is going to harm you. That guy is Anna’s roommate and they get into an argument at least once a week. Sometimes it can be nasty, but they never get physical and neither would ever hurt anyone unprovoked. No one here would.”

I was silent for a few minutes, trying to process what I saw on top of the time bomb of information he dropped on me. “Is she...is everyone....are you a vampire?” I whispered the last words, almost too stunned and afraid to say out loud.

He smiled slightly, his kind eyes making me feel safe. “Yes. We’re what you’d call vampires.”

I took a breath, almost afraid to hear the answer to my question, “Am I in any danger by being here?”

“No, everyone here is good. They don’t pose any threat. There are plenty of dangerous vampires but we stay away from them. Besides,” He placed an arm around my waist, playfulness in his eyes, “If there were, I’d protect you from them.”

“Oh? And how don’t I know you’re not dangerous?”

He leaned closer to me, clearly enjoying this, “You don’t, I suppose. Doesn’t that make it fun?”

“That’s very much debatable,” I smiled for a moment before a frown took over, “Everyone just seemed really...I don’t know, startled I guess?”

Jongho let out a loud sigh, looking down at the ground for a few seconds before looking back up at me, “Humans aren’t normally invited to these parties. It’s assumed that everyone here is a vampire. The perfume that you’re wearing, whatever the hell it is, is masking your scent. If I didn’t meet you before today I wouldn’t have known you were human. I guess Anna didn’t tell everyone, either.” He placed a hand on my knee and looked at me with kind eyes, “How are you feeling?”

“Surprisingly calm considering that I just learned vampires exist.”

Jongho laughed, “Yeah I’d say you’re taking it pretty well. Like I said earlier though, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of questions, so fire away.”

“Yeah I have a few.” I hesitated, hoping he wouldn’t be offended by my question, “Exactly how old are you?”

“Oh are you gonna age shame me?”

“No but it’s probably an important thing to know...since we kissed and all.”

He laughed again and leaned back in his chair, placing his arms behind his head, “How old do you think I am?”

I used his question as an excuse for my eyes to wander over his body. He was beyond attractive, very clearly fit and he knew it, which equal parts pissed me off and turned me on. As hard as I tried, I kept finding myself being pulled to his thighs. Even through his jeans I could tell he had strong thighs and I had to press my fingernails into my palm to keep from drooling. “From your appearance? Early twenties. From what age fiction usually tells us vampires are? I’d guess you’re a hundred and three.”

Jongho nodded with a smile, “I’m not quite that old but that’s a fair guess. You had it right the first time. I’m a pure born and we actually age, but we don’t age as quickly as humans. I’m twenty.”

“Pure born?”

“It means both of my parents are vampires.”

I nodded as another question came to mind, a smile on my lips. “Do you sparkle in the daylight?”

“Oh my god,” He covered his face with his hands, a mixture of a groan and a laugh escaping his mouth, “No, we do not sparkle in daylight, “His hands came to rest on his knees, “But it sucks that we really shouldn’t be in direct sunlight for over two hours a day. That’s normally the rule to go by. It’ll burn us if we’re in it for much longer than that.”

“So do werewolves and witches and everything like that exist, too?”

“Yeah pretty much. We don’t all get along, but we have to coexist. It’s something we’ve struggled with for a while, unfortunately. Basically everything you’d believe to be supernatural exists.”

I was silent for a while, not really knowing what else to say.

“Y/n? Are you doing okay? If you’re not comfortable being here I can drive you home right now or if you’d rather be alone I can call an Uber or—”

My heart skipped a beat at his kindness. “No, I’m okay. I guess I’m just surprised I’m learning about this just now.”

“We do a good job of hiding it. Also it was probably a given, but keep this as a secret if you can. Having a lot of people know about our existence can be risky.”

I gave him a silent nod, unintentionally leaning closer to him. The sound of approaching footsteps made me jump into Jongho’s arms. I didn’t know why I found comfort in him, knowing that he could be dangerous as well, but he’d been nothing but sweet to me. I had no reason to fear him.

Annabelle approached us but stopped, taking a few steps back when she saw how I was buried in Jongho’s arms.

“Hey y/n.” She rubbed her arm, looking down as if she’d done something wrong.

“I guess Jongho probably told you everything at this point. I’m really sorry if I scared you and I understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore.” Even in the dark I could see tears beginning to stream down her cheeks and I felt a pain in my chest.

I got up from Jongho’s hold and wrapped my arms around her, feeling her stiffen, “I trust you, Annabelle.”

Those four words seemed to relax her and she returned my hug, still sniffling, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. We aren’t supposed to tell anyone and I thought you might hate me—”

I pulled back, “Why the hell would I hate you? You’re still you.”

She laughed through tears, gripping me tighter, thanking me over and over for not pushing her away.

We’re gonna be okay. It’s all gonna be okay.

Not too long after, Jongho drove me home. The ride was more silent than when we were headed to Annabelle’s house, but the air wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable. Feeling tired, I laid my head on Jongho’s shoulder, faintly hearing ‘sleep well, baby’ before drifting asleep.

When I woke, I was in my bed. I reached for my phone on the bedside table and found a little note placed next to it that read:

I hope you don’t mind that I carried you inside. I tried to wake you for like five minutes but you were out cold. Anyways, I had a really good time with you yesterday and I hope you had fun too :) Text me when you wake so I know you’re okay. -J

I looked at my clock and saw that it was still early, but I texted Jongho anyway.

Me [3:00am] Not sure if you’re still up, but I really enjoyed yesterday, too. I’m exhausted so I’m gonna go back to sleep but I just wanted to say I’m okay and everything is good :))

A Cute Buffoon [3:00am] Sleep well, darling. We can talk in the morning

It had been roughly a month since Jongho and I started dating, and while I felt like I knew him pretty well, we had only known each other a little over a month, on top of the fact that he was a vampire which was essentially an entire separate culture. I’d asked him most questions I had early throughout our relationship, but one in particular kept replaying in my mind.

We were currently sitting on the couch in my apartment, cuddling each other. The TV was on but neither of us were really watching it. I was far more interested in the warm body in front of me, and based off of how Jongho was looking at me, the feeling was mutual.

I bit my lip, anxiously mulling over the question I’d wanted to ask him for weeks. I didn’t know how he would take it, let alone how I would bring it up, but I needed to ask at some point. Knowing he could probably sense my nerves, I gave in. “Jongho, can a human turn into a vampire?”

He hummed, turning to face me. “Why do you ask?”

“I just...I didn’t know if it could happen or not.”

Jongho chuckled, “Yeah it’s possible. It’s a long ass process to go through though, and there’s a lot that can go wrong, so it rarely happens.”

I shifted in my seat, trying not to appear overly interested. “Why is that? What can go wrong?

He smiled and raised a brow, his cocky persona resurfacing, “You sound so eager to know, dear. Do you want to become a vampire?” His eyes briefly flickered towards my lips before he tilted his head, dragging his soft lips across my neck. I let out a gasp when I felt the tips of his teeth lightly scraping the skin, “Or maybe you’re just looking for an excuse for me to put my mouth on you?”

Like with anything that exuded him, I felt myself becoming quickly overwhelmed, my mind now hazy and distant. I shut my eyes in an attempt to gain some semblance of control over myself.

“Your thoughts are swirling, doll.” Jongho began leaving gentle kisses along the side of my jaw, “Don’t think too much. Just let me take care of you. Okay?”

“Okay.” I said through a short breath, knowing we’d just have to have the conversation another time.

We’d had sex before, so it wasn’t like this was new territory for us, but every time felt like the first, leaving me just as out of breath each time.

He lifted me and placed me on his thigh, dragging me across his flexed muscles. I felt my eyes roll back at the simple motion, my need growing at an embarrassing rate. I grabbed his shoulders as I began to drag myself against him, whines and whimpers spilling from my lips.

“God you’re hot,” Jongho said through hot breaths, beginning to kiss my neck, no doubt leaving marks.

“Thanks I try.” I managed to say, pleased when Jongho laughed.

“You don’t even have to, and it’s completely unfair.” His hands moved under my shirt and danced along my skin, “It’s like you’re an angel come to life.”

I let out a loud moan, feeling tears well in my eyes from his praise, “You always make me feel so beautiful when I’m with you.”

Jongho responded with a smile, carrying me to my bedroom and laying me down on the bed while hurriedly discarding both of our clothes.

“You’re always so eager, babe.”

He nuzzled my neck as he climbed on top of me, his hands finding my own and holding them, “As if you’re not.”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

He then moved in between my thighs, teasing me with his fingers as he ran them along my wet slit, occasionally rubbing my clit, drawing small whines from me.

“Jongho please just fuck me already.”

“Sweetheart, do you even think you’re wet enough for me?” He cooed.

Feeling frustrated, I pushed my fingers inside myself with ease, pulling them out and spreading them so he could see my essence dripping down my fingers, “I don’t know you tell me.” I said with far more sass than I intended.

Jongho’s eyes widened at the sight and wasted no time positioning his cock at my entrance, pushing in and letting out the most beautiful groans.

Neither of us ever bothered to use protection because, to put it simply, vampires couldn’t get humans pregnant. It was only possible when both partners were vampires, and we took full advantage of that.

“Fuck—baby you feel amazing. You’re so warm and tight ohmygod.” Jongho moaned as he began to move, thrusting in and out of me at a steady pace.

I clenched around him, loving when he was vocal. His sounds helped get me off just as much as his actions, at times it seemed.

“You feel...really good...too.” I said through heavy breaths. And as much as I wanted to last longer in bed, with Jongho, I never could.

“I don’t know if it’s because you’re a vampire and you’ve got like magic powers or something or maybe you’re just a sex god—but holy shit...I’m close.”

He threw back his head and had the audacity to laugh, something I really couldn’t stay mad at with how good he was making me feel. “Babe it’s been like six minutes.”

“Don’t be an asshole.” I joked, my laugh turning into a moan. It only spurred Jongho on, making him angle one of my legs up higher, hitting deeper inside of me.

“I know you’re close, baby. I can feel it. Cum for me, baby girl. Let go for me.”

He reached down to tease my sensitive nub, drawing quick circles until I was seeing stars, chanting his name like a prayer.

After Jongho came down from his high, he disappeared into the bathroom as he always did, coming back with a warm towel. As he pressed the towel to my thighs I tried to ask again.

“So...about the human to vampire thing?”

“Well,” Jongho sighed, “I didn’t think I’d be able to distract you forever.” He smiled, “It’s mostly done because couples want to stay together. The thing is though, the vampire obviously gets a taste of the human’s blood and it can be hard to stop once you’ve marked them, especially since smell is such a big allure for us.”

He took a long breath, “Then the human will almost always pass out, and needs to be taken care of for the next couple days because they’ll be so weak. Another problem is that the scent of their blood will be amplified during those days and it’ll be harder for the vampire to not, you know...” He looked away, not able to say the words. I knew what he meant, we both did. In some cases, vampires would kill their human partners for of their blood. Sometimes it was beyond their control. Just a primal need that would betray them. “Then their scent is more easily detected by other vampires and the whole thing is just kinda a mess. I think I’ve only heard of five attempts and only one of them was successful.”

I nodded, not really knowing what to say.

“And then on top of it all, it can be harder for the human to adjust and it can put a lot of pressure on the relationship. Human and vampire relationships are dangerous.”

His face was serious as he ran a hand through my hair. I looked up at him and leaned into his touch.

He cleared his throat and averted his eyes, a shy behavior I hadn’t seen from him before, “I guess it’s important for you to decide then.” His eyes met mine again, “Is this still something you want to continue?”

“Our relationship?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course, are you crazy? You mean the world to me.” I swallowed, realizing he hadn’t voiced his own thoughts, “What about you? Do you want this?”

“I think you have a pretty good idea of what I want.” He smiled and pressed a quick kiss to my forehead, his eyes sparkling.

“Hey Jongho?”

He hummed, looking at me.

“I want to spend forever with you.”

#ateez #kpop #imagines #ateez au #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez smut #atzinc #ateez vampire au #vampire au #jongho smut #jongho imagines

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adhdeancas · 4 years ago

Text

Hm, mommy issues anybody? Daddy issues anybody? Yeah. Let’s unpack that a little. Not a lot.

Dean runs his hand up the back of his head, feeling the soft spikes of his haircut. It was a stupid tic he’d picked up in his teens, it usually made girls melt. The sensitive guy, the nervous guy, the guy who’s eager to please. It made him look vulnerable. Girls liked that. He started catching himself on it and stopping when he got into his twenties.

His phone buzzes. He looks at it quickly, ignoring the stupid clench in his heart that comes with the action.

One New System Update Available: Install Now?

He sighs and turns it off.

---

Long hours in the car are usually… uneventful. Full of all kinds of empty time that frankly? Dean likes. It’s a nice break from the constant weird noises of sketchy motel rooms with paper-thin walls, from the creaking pipes in the bunker. Mostly, it’s a break from thinking about whatever batshit depressing problems they have up their ass that week.

But this time? The open road is endless, like a really shitty, really boring acid trip. A fucking infinity of his ankle cramping up on the side roads. And Sam always gives him the stink eye when he reaches for his phone, so he can’t even do that. He does make pit stops more often than usual, so he doesn’t crawl out of his own skin, and his glares keep Sam from mentioning it. Maybe he just thinks he’s got the shits. He’ll let him keep thinking that.

At least on the pot he can check his phone.

But time and time again, he lays down a loud paper cover that doesn’t do much to cover up the griminess of the seat and sits down, and unlocks his phone. He waits until he’s fully in the stall to do it, even though he could end the suspense the second he puts Baby in park. Maybe he knows what the answer is gonna be.

What the answer always is.

No New Messages.

He sighs. Story of his life.

---

Sam snatches his phone next time it buzzes in the cup holder before Dean can even reach for it. Dean opens his mouth to gripe, but his stomach ties itself in a knot anyway. He doesn’t know whether he wants it to be… or whether he’s dreading it.

“Who is it?” he tries to say it casually. It sounds forced to him, but Sam doesn’t notice.

“Cas,” he’s got this dopey little smile on his face, and Dean feels his face heat up. For no goddamn reason, it’s not like-

“Why’re you- what’s up? Anything wrong?” Dean knows Sam would’ve said right away if something was wrong, but he wants his brother to spit it out already, and Sam looks like the cat that got the cream. That means he’s about to try to be funny.

“Nah, nah.” Sam grins again, glancing away from the phone finally.

“Well then put it down, Nosy, what the fuck,” He’s already seen the text, whatever it is, so it’s no use, but Dean bristles anyway. It’s not like Cas would’ve sent him anything actually embarrassing, right? What was the last thing they were talking about… the best roadside pancakes? Yeah, so, it couldn’t be anything weird. Well, it’s Cas, so it could always be something weird. But nothing incriminating. Hell, Sam’s accidentally opened a nude a girl sent him one time so it’s not like it could be worse than that. Not like Cas is sending him nudes. Dean cracks a grin at the thought of what a thirst trap would look like for Cas. Probably him in a, like, half unbuttoned button up laid out in a library chair. Maybe a book in hand. An angel blade. The weapon! Not-

“He just- he just wanted to update you on where he is in Gilligan’s Island.” There’s a laugh in Sam’s voice, and Dean wants to know why. Probably just the way Cas described it, he always finds this certain way of saying things that’s just… kinda endearing and kinda confusing.

“He’s watching without me? Son of a bitch!”

Sam smirks. “Yeah, he and Jack. Jack finished Pirates of the Carribean and he wanted more island stuff.”

Dean shakes his head. “Motherfuckers…”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You want me to text him back for you?”

Dean rolls his shoulders out. “It’s fine, I’ll just do it at the next stop.”

They pull into the next gas station and Dean doesn’t look at his phone again until he’s hidden.

---

Because Sam is a nosy bitch, he asks. Well that, and he’s really tired of the car ride taking twice as long with all the stops they’re making. Dean’s usually a ‘pee in a bottle and don’t pitch a fit’ kind of driver, himself included (Sam’s scarred for life at this point), but now? It’s like they’re traveling with a six year old kid, stopping every hour.

The third stop in Oklahoma alone, he stops Dean. “Okay, do we need to go to the hospital?”

Dean quirks his eyebrows and frowns. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He’s got a clue what they’re talking about.

Sam bitches with his whole face. “We’ve been stopping every four fucking feet for days now, so you’re either dying and we need to go to the ER and get an endoscopy, or-

“An endoscope who?”

Sam doesn’t take the bait. Shocker. “Dean.”

Dean rolls his eyes and tries to bypass him. Sam is smarter than he looks. They grab his phone. “Sammy!” This time the word’s annoyed, a warning. Like he used to say right before he really viciously wrestled Sam to the ground and pried the last cookie out of his delicate little hands when they were kids.

Unfortunately, Sam has a height and reach advantage. He holds the phone up and Dean doesn’t have a chance unless- Dean punches him in the stomach. Sam makes a winded noise but manages to keep his arm raised. He glares harder. “You’re gonna talk to me, or you’re not getting this back.”

God, they’re a bitch. “Fine, fuck you. I’ll shit the old fashioned way.” Dean saunters off to the horrifically artificial lights of the gas station, a middle finger waving back just for his little bro.

When he gets back, Sam’s looking much more compassionate. It’s worse. “Dean, why are you so obsessed with your phone? What’re you waiting on?”

Dean rolls his eyes and gets in his car, leaving Sam to follow him. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, dude, I’m just making sure I don’t miss any texts from Mom,” He jams the key into the ignition and steps on the gas. Sam’s door snaps the rest of the way shut with the sudden force and they yelp. “Oh, don’t be a drama queen.”

“You’re the dramatic one right now, Dean.” Sam raises his eyebrows, condescension dripping off his expression. “Did she say she’d text soon?”

“Nope.” Dean shrugs. “Just making sure. It’s kinda my fault she died and then came back to life in a world she didn’t understand; least I can do is pick up the damn phone.”

Sam sighs. “Dean, she’s not gonna freak out if you don’t answer right away. Unclench, man.”

“Unclench?” Dean’s hands tighten on the wheel. “Fuck off, Sam, I’m fine!”

There’s a tense silence. Dean finally starts to think he’s given up this stupid argument, but then Sam shifts in his seat. “She’s not Dad, Dean. She’s gonna come back.”

Dean bites the inside of his cheek. “Never said she was. And Dad always came back.”

“Dean-”

“Sam, just drop it, please-”

“I know how hard it is-”

Dean’s harsh laugh cuts the car into silence again. Sam’s got that kicked puppy look on his face, Dean knows it, and he forces his shoulder to relax before talking. “Look, Sammy, I appreciate it and all but- you have no fucking clue what it’s like for your parent to just fucking… ignore you.”

“I grew up with Dad too, Dean. Hell, he lied to me until I was like 6, he ran out on both of us all the time; I never knew where he was, he never told me where he was going-”

“Yeah, well, he always picked up the phone for you, didn’t he?” Dean lets out a harsh breath and changes lanes just for something to do with his hands.

“He’d stay out for weeks no matter how much I called-”

“Yeah, but he answered. He answered when you called, when you texted, to tell you when he’d be home or to tell you to fuck off and stop calling, but he’d answer.” Dean wipes at his eyebrow. He doesn’t care about this shit. He doesn’t fucking care. “Dad called me when he wanted to talk to me,” then Dean corrects himself “-when he wanted to tell me something. So excuse me… if I get a little antsy. But you- you don’t get it at all.” Dad and Mom, they both left him. Both ditched him as soon as they could and never looked back. Not until they needed him to hunt something. And he got it, he did. But just because he understood didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed. And just because he was pissed didn’t mean he didn’t want them to call. Expect them or hope them to text, just to check in. Something more than coordinates and a link to a news article.

He wants someone to care about him. And fuck if that isn’t the saddest thing anybody’s ever heard.

“Dean…”

It’s been a full five minutes, and Dean’s been waiting for Sam to bring it back up again, to not let this stupid thing go. “What?” he says sullenly.

Sam holds the phone up so Dean can see the screen without taking his eyes totally off the road. It’s a video, and he sees Cas awkwardly holding the camera away from him, two heads of blonde hair behind him. Sam taps the play arrow.

“Hello, Dean.” Jack waves behind him with his usual energy, and Cas looks incredibly fond. “I’m here with Jack and your mother-”

“Mary,” Mary corrects. She crosses her arms uncomfortably, but her expression is soft.

“Mary.” Cas repeats. “I decided to invite her to come by before you and Sam got back- that is, if you’re still coming back today. Sam has been telling me that you’re not going as fast as usual, and while I do appreciate you finally gaining some self-preservation-”

Dean rolls his eyes at the smiling jab.

“- I do hope you’ll get back tonight. Mary has requested we order pizza and chicken wings, and I got the kind you like- the Mango Habenero, but-”

“No promises they’ll be here tomorrow!” Mary calls out jokingly. Sam’s grinning behind the phone now.

“Hurry home! I miss you!” Jack adds sincerely.

The camera turns back toward Cas fully for a moment, and he holds it way too close to his face. “Yes. I- We- just stay safe. And stop worrying. And iHop is superior to Waffle House.”

There’s a rustling noise and then the video cuts off. Sam is grinning smugly from the passenger seat. Dean raises his eyebrows. “So you’ve been updating Cas about me?”

Sam shrugs. “We snapchat.”

“You what?”

“I send him pictures of you when you’re looking really constipated.” Sam clarifies unhelpfully. “Cas and I like to think up reasons for why you’re mad this time- avocado toast, streaks on the windshield when you try to wipe it at the gas station, that one piece of hair that does the weird-”

“Okay, okay, I get it!” Dean snaps. “Wait, what about my hair?”

Sam laughs. “Just drive, Dean. For the wings.”

Dean frowns and pushes Baby faster. Well… now he doesn’t have to stop so much.

He makes Sam pee in a bottle next time he has to go.

#dean winchester #mary winchester #john winchester #sam winchester #implied destiel #castiel #jack kline #my writing #ficlet

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loversthroughtime · 4 years ago

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/28946823 It had been over 3 weeks since Kagome had gone home, and she was starting to feel the toll it was taking on her mind and body. Usually it wouldn’t have bothered her so much, as she had gone up to almost 2 months without returning to the modern world, but lately they had been fighting more demons than usual, besides all the studying she had been doing to catch up on missed work, luckily she didn’t have any upcoming exams or homework deadlines, but it was important to recap on everything so she wouldn’t be completely lost the next time she attended school. “Inuyasha it’ll just be a couple days. I need a break, I’m gonna lose my mind if I don’t get to rest at least a couple days in the comfort of my home, please let me go” Kagome was on the verge of a mental breakdown over not being able to return home, not that it mattered what Inuyasha said since she would be going either way, but it was nice when he didn’t fight her all the way there. “If I may,” Said Miroku stepping in, “ we are also starting to feel the need to rest, as you know, Sango and I are also human, and we could also use a few days for ourselves. It would be excellent to gather supplies and gather some energy for when we next encounter Naraku.” Sango smiled and nodded next to Miroku. “I could also use this time to fix some weapons that have gotten damaged over the last few battles, as Miroku said, Naraku is in hiding, this is the best time to gather our strength and prepare for what’s to come, otherwise we’ll be too tired to perform well in battle” Inuyasha was pensive at what his companions had just said. They all made perfect sense, and he agreed that some rest would be more beneficial than not. However, the fact that Naraku was in hiding gave them an advantage in gathering more jewel shards, not to mention getting more information on his whereabouts would be a win if he wasn’t expecting them to show up wherever he was hiding. “Well, it’s decided, since the majority voted for resting” Kagome was thrilled at her friends backing her up. “You can come with me to my time if you’d like Inuyasha, you don’t have to stay here and sulk like they say you always do.” At that Inuyasha’s cheeks turned red, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Keh, as if I would ever sulk, much less over you wasting time by going back to your house” He scoffed, turning his back towards the group. “But since you are all weak humans, I suppose it would be a waste of time to keep going if all you’ll do is complain” He started walking in the direction Kaede’s village was, it would probably take them a little over half the day to get there, but it was still very early in the day, so they would be getting there right before sunset without a problem. The walk back to the village went smoothly, they didn’t run into any trouble, and they were able to enjoy their time together by occasionally playing games, and singing on their way there. Kagome carried around a portable microphone she would pull out so they each had a go at singing a song, aside from Kagome, none of them were particularly good at singing, but they were having a good time, so it didn’t really matter. Since they were having fun, they got to the village in what seemed like no time at all. The sky had just started turning a beautiful shade of orange and pink when Kagome finally made it to the well. “I won’t be gone too long, four days at most, I promise, I just need to catch up on a little bit of school” She smiled at her friends who had decided to accompany her all the way there. “No worries Kagome, take all the time you need” Said Sango, gaining a death stare from Inuyasha at her words. “Yeah Kagome, you need to rest! We’ll miss you but we know you’ll be back soon” Smiled Shippo perched on Miroku’s shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want to come, Inuyasha? My offer still stands.” Said Kagome a little more hopeful than she intended, she usually loved getting time away from him, but for some reason lately the thought of being apart from him made her heart sink in her chest a little bit, almost like having a piece of herself torn away. Kagome mentally slapped herself at such thought, since when was Inuyasha a part of her? No, she definitely needed some time away. “Keh, I have nothing to do over there, and you’re always saying I annoy you, just get back in time” and with that he took off towards the forest before anyone was able to say anything else about the matter. “Well, that’s that.” Kagome said her goodbyes to the group and jumped into well that would take her 500 years into the future, leaving her companions alone as they started making their way back to Kaede’s village. “Sango my dear, how about a little bet?” Miroku smirked. “What do you have in mind, Monk?” Sango was a little reluctant to hear what Miroku had to say, given the fact that whatever came out of his mouth could never be good, much less now that he had such a mischievous look on his face. “I’ll bet you whatever you want that he follows her to her time at the latest tomorrow afternoon” “Okay, I’ll take you up on that one” Sango was the one that smirked this time “I bet you he goes back tonight, and if he does you have to keep your hands to yourself for a month” “A - A MONTH?! Sango dear, don’t you think that’s pushing it a little bit?” he said fearfully, as he didn’t actually think she would bet Inuyasha would follow Kagome at an earlier time than he had originally suggested, and to be frank, knowing Inuyasha he wasn’t confident at all it wouldn’t happen. “So what do you say?” “Ah, I actually think betting goes against everything I believe in as a monk. Such behaviors are to be condemned. Morally speaking, I can’t partake in such an activity” As he said this his left hand was making its way towards Sango’s bottom half, which luckily she caught on to, smacking him with all her might before it made contact with her body. “Why do you always have to be like this?” Shippo asked him with a sigh. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kagome had dropped her backpack in her room, and was gathering her supplies to take a nice warm bath. She was feeling more than ever how sore her body was from the constant fighting and running, she hadn’t taken her bike in a while cause she always had to leave it when a battle broke out, and it was such a pain to look for it, although Inuyasha could find it fairly easily with his sense of smell, it was still annoying, and if she was being honest it was more annoying than helpful, especially when she was tired of riding, and of having to push the damn thing around. Kagome stepped into the warm tub and contemplated how much she’d grown over the last months, it was crazy to think how her life had changed drastically overnight, being thrown into a world of constant danger, but she wouldn’t have it any other way if she was given the choice. Which she did, as she chose to spend the majority of her time there. Her friends had become family, and Inuyasha had become such a natural extension of herself, that whenever they were apart from each other, all she did was miss him, and wait until they were together again, as much as he annoyed her some times. “There I go again” she sighed, and started drying herself and getting dressed. “Thinking about him when he’s not here, even him driving me completely crazy is better than being apart” She had picked out a green long sleeved shirt and pajama shorts since the temperature was neither hot nor cold. Grabbing her dirty laundry off the floor, she made her way into her room, almost face planting as she walked around her bed to close the open window, tumbling over something that definitely should not have been on the floor. “Inuyasha! What are you doing here? I thought you said you weren’t gonna come” She said after regaining her footing and realizing that what she had tripped over, were Inuyasha’s outstretched legs, since he had been sitting on the floor. “Keh, don’t think I came for you or nothing.” he scoffed, cheeks turning slightly pink “I was just bored out of my mind, all Miroku does is flirt, and all Sango does is slap him, Shippo is annoying, and don’t get me started on that old hag” he crossed his legs and tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robes. “Well, I’m glad you came, it gets boring being out here by myself” “Is your family not here?” He asked, turning his head in her direction a little faster than he intended. “No, they left me a note saying Grandpa had some kind of convention, and mom and Sota decided to tag along since they didn’t have anything to do, they’ll be back tomorrow afternoon” She dumped her dirty clothes in the laundry basket she kept in her room, and made her way over to the bed, sitting right next to Inuyasha on the floor. “Why didn’t you come back? If you didn’t want to be alone you should’ve just returned to the village” “If I had returned, you would’ve made us get back on the road tomorrow, and I told you, I need to rest. I’m sore all over, I honestly don’t even know how I made it back all the way to my house. One more step and my legs would’ve given in” “Well… I can carry you, you know? All you have to do is ask” Kagome’s cheeks were slowly turning red at his offering. If she had to choose a favorite way of travelling, she had to admit that riding on Inuyasha’s back beat any other way of transportation by a LONG shot. “Thank you Inuyasha, that’s very sweet of you. I will definitely take you up on that one” They sat in silence for a while since they were both still madly blushing from their conversation, neither one really knew why they were so flushed over something they did almost every day. It wasn’t like he had never given her a ride before, but offering to carry her when she was tired, and not just in the midst of battle, or when they needed to get somewhere in a hurry, made the act seem a lot more intimate. Kagome looked over at him, and smiled to herself, noticing how handsome he was. She was never one to say such things to him, although she admitted it to herself every time she got a glimpse of his face. “What are you looking at?” Inuyasha had turned to look at her and noticed she had a very strange look on her face, her eyes seemed to sparkle, and she had a smile that curved to one side more than the other, she looked so cute, and the realization of that made his face feel hot. “Nothing! I was just thinking” she averted her eyes quickly, and tried to focus her attention on something else, when she noticed he had grass stuck to his robe, near where his rib cage was, so she reached her hand over and started picking it out of his clothes, when he suddenly pulled away in a suspiciously jumpy manner. Realization hit Kagome like a ton of bricks “Inuyasha, are you… ticklish?” she asked in disbelief. Inuyasha’s face was all the answer she needed, his eyes had gone round and big, his cheeks were pink, and he was trying to talk but nothing coherent was coming out. She never would’ve thought that Inuyasha who seemed so tough, who always shrugged off any sign of what he considered a weakness, was ticklish. Mischief filled Kagome’s entire face, her eyes were sparkling, her smile went from ear to ear. Inuyasha had never seen someone look so happy, yet so scary, and at that thought, she launched herself at him, placing her hands on both sides of his torso and tickling him to her heart's content. The laughs coming out of Inuyasha, where making Kagome’s heart swell three times its normal size. She had never heard such a glorious sound coming out of him. Sure, she had heard him laugh whenever they were goofing around, or he did a sort of evil laugh when he was mocking someone he didn’t particularly like. But this was unlike any of those things. This was his pure, most uncensored laugh. She could hear the roughness of his voice, it was low, and husky. It matched him perfectly, and all she wanted was to be able to hear that sound for the rest of her life. “St- STOP, HAHAHHAAHHA” it was getting hard to breathe through all the laughter “KAGOME, HAHAHA, STOP” He was kicking and thrashing under her, careful not to hurt her, but still trying to scurry away from her. No one had ever tickled him since his mother had died, and although his lungs were on absolute fire from laughing, he couldn’t say he hated the feeling. He was especially loving the enjoyment Kagome was getting out of this, and making her happy was all that mattered to him, no matter how much he said otherwise. After what seemed like an eternity, Kagome stopped tickling him, she was laughing as she allowed him to regain his breath. “I can’t believe you’re ticklish, god will I use this to my advantage from now on! When I was little my mom would threaten me with tickles if I didn’t want to do something, it worked in her favor so well because-” At that Inuyasha flipped her under him, and with an eyebrow raised and a teasing grin, he started tickling her the same way she had done to him. Being mindful of his claws he ran his hands through her body, tickling her stomach, under her arms, her neck. Anywhere he touched made her thrash and let out what sounded like heaven to Inuyasha’s ears. Her voice was high, but not in a deafening way, it was smooth, and fruity, and he could say without a flicker of a doubt that it was his favorite sound in the entire world. “OKAY HAHAHHAHAHA TRUCE, HAHAHAHHA TR- TRUCE” He stopped tickling her, and relished in the moment, one of his hands had found its way behind her back, the other in the little curve between her neck and shoulder. He had somehow ended up fully on top of her, his face mere inches away from hers. He could feel the warmth of her breath on his mouth. This made him lower his gaze from her eyes to her lips. Her lips, he had never seen anything like them. They were plump and luscious, naturally the color of cherry blossoms in the spring. He licked his lips, and returned his gaze to her eyes, finding her looking down, directly at HIS own lips, without a second thought he went in, taking her mouth into his own. If the look of her lips was perfect, the taste of them was something else. They were as soft as they looked, and tasted sweet, similar to the way her scent was, it reminded him of peaches somehow. He ran his tongue across her lower lip asking for better access, and deepening the kiss once she opened her mouth at his request. One of her hands had made its way to the side of his face, and she had intertwined her fingers through his hair, pulling him as close as humanly possible. If heaven existed, it was this, Kagome’s lips against his own, moving in sync with one another, tongue’s battling in dominance, heavy breaths in between movements, little nibbles here and there. Inuyasha had never experienced something as glorious as this moment. After what seemed like forever, although it was probably no more than five minutes, they broke apart. Regaining their breath, they both just stared into each other's eyes. Sudden fear hit him, he had not thought through what would happen if he kissed her, would she be disgusted with him? Would she think he forced himself on her? No, she had kissed him back, not only that, but they had kissed before, back in Kaguya’s castle, but that time had been different, his life was in danger, she had had no other choice. As if reading his mind, and noticing the self doubt that currently ran through Inuyasha’s head, Kagome smiled, making Inuyasha’s heart skip several beats. “If I’d known this would happen, I would’ve tickled you a long time ago” confessed Kagome, stroking his cheek with her thumb, fingers still running through his hair. Her heart was beating a thousand miles per hour, head spinning, as she tried to process what had just happened. It had been glorious, she truly had not expected this outcome when she discovered he was ticklish. The thought made her giggle. “I- I had never been tickled before” He said, averting his eyes. It was true, no one had ever gotten close enough to him to do such a thing, he supposed his mother had done it when he was a child, but it had been so long ago he hardly remembered the feeling before now. Since then no one had bothered to touch him in such a way to discover what spots on his body made him squirm and laugh, not until Kagome. She pulled his face a little so that he made eye contact with her again, lifting her head up a little, she gave him a quick peck on the lips and smiled. It was true that Inuyasha had had a rough life, people tended to be afraid of demons and half demons alike. But he didn’t have to feel like an outcast anymore, he deserved to experience love, and all the little things that made life worthwhile, and she would make sure of it. “Well, I’m glad to be your first” As her words left her mouth Kagome realized what she had just said “That’s not what I meant I-” This time it was him that gave her a chaste kiss “I know what you meant, thank you” He was running his fingers through her hair, not wanting this moment to end. He took a deep breath, trying to engrave everything about this moment in his memory, before finally pulling away and getting up. He offered his hand to hoist her up alongside him. Standing closer than they normally did. “Just so we’re clear, I definitely won this war” he said with a cocky grin, making Kagome laugh and roll her eyes at him. “Fine, but next time I’m definitely gonna win, you’ll see” At that both their stomachs made rumbling sounds, both of them realizing they hadn’t had anything to eat since that morning before they had set out on their journey back home. “I think my mom bought extra ramen the last time you were here, how about we make some to celebrate your victory?” Inuyasha’s eyes lit up in glee, as if he would ever reject the option of having ramen for dinner. “Let’s go then” he said, taking her hand and intertwining his fingers with hers as he guided her out of her room and down to the kitchen. Perhaps this had been the first time he had been tickled, and it would definitely not be the last one. As long as it was Kagome, and it ended the same way each time, with their lips pressed together and her hand on his hand.

#Inuyasha #Inuyasha fanfic #Inuyasha fanfiction #InuKag #Kagome #Kagome Higurashi #InuKag fanfic #InuKag fanfiction #InuyashaxKagome #Inuyasha/Kagome

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kvngjoong · 5 years ago

Text

jisung + nsfw a-z

next is felix!! i forgot about my dissertation so need to work on that, but i’ll try to post it tomorrow, and if not next monday!

A: Aftercare

because han jisung is not only a sub, but a brat, he needs taking care of. he will demand all of your attention on him, so good luck if you wanted to do something else, because jisung is expecting you to take care of him, run him a bath, sit with him, play with his hair (and braid it, hmm?), then help him get to sleep. if you don’t, he will definitely complain about it

B: Body part

although there is a joke he literally loves your chest, he loves your hands more. he likes the way you stroke his skin so softly, he likes how you run your fingers through his hair when he’s in sub space, he especially loves the way that you so perfectly jack him off. for him, he loves his lips the most. he knows the effect he has on you because of them

C: Cum

he cums a lot. like a surprising amount. he enjoys making a show of it and having it all over your sheets, or your hands, so that he can lick it off. also likes having his cum on ur tiddies cause he thinks it looks pretty

D: Dirty Secret

jisung mentioned more than enough times that he wants to video you guys doing something sometime, and he does with your permission this one time. he first off doesn’t admit that he enjoys being a bit of a slut on camera, but it’s pretty easy to see it the next time you watch it and he’s practically got his tongue out and begging for more. second, he doesn't admit how many times he actually got off to that video, and each time you bring it up he’ll get all shy because.. did he just pop a boner?

E: Experience

he knows a damn lot about what he’s doing, but he doesn’t actually have any real experience. probably because he was too busy fantasizing about what could be happening or just he was generally busy. but yeah, he knows what he’s doing and he knows what he wants

F: Favourite Position

literally anything which gives him a chance to touch your tiddies. no joke, he loves it when you ride him, no matter what part of him you’re actually riding. face, cock, thigh… he’s into it (if you’re not wearing a shirt or you’re wearing one of his and it’s kinda see through.. you understand)

G: Goofy

jisung is a brat. do you know what that means? he will make jokes, he will tease you by acting like you’re not affecting him. he generally has a more relaxed approach to nsfw stuff, but he uses it to his advantage too. he’ll get what he wants from you by keeping his happy charm as though he’s completely oblivious to the fact that you're trying to turn him on, or something like that

H: Hair

he’s still pretty young and probably didn’t get the memo to shave anything. but when he gets closer to you he wants to take pride in his appearance and will probably start shaving. not that he has much of it to begin with, he probs doesn’t have much hair altogether anyway

I: Intimacy

he acts like he doesn’t care all that much, but jisung is a sensitive baby and everything means so much to him. especially when he’s laying in your arms afterwards and he looks up to you like you’re his entire world. it’s kinda obvious as well when your sex is a little less kinky and you just wanna show him how much he cares, he will respond the exact same way. but he’s definitely more intimate outside of nsfw stuff

J: Jack Off

He can go all the time, any time. So he jacks off a lot. It may be something that’s hard to control when you first get together because he will be pretty demanding that you help him out each time, but eventually he resorts to just recording it each time so you get to see him jacking off on his own instead

K: Kink

oh hey did someone say the worst power bottom of them all? yeah. he’s a brat, but he knows what he’s doing. he knows what to say to get you riled up, he knows how to move and how to push your buttons. but he likes annoying you because when you get a bit rougher that just takes him to another level. so he’s a masochist too. there’s a whole list of them. he’s a sub. praise kink, teasing, shower sex, practically anywhere sex, he literally is a book of kinks - some of which you might not even know

L: Location

uh.. anywhere. literally. he doesn’t have many boundaries. it doesnt matter that he’s an introvert, all his inhibitions are lost when he’s needy. unless it’s somewhere super public. that isn’t to say he isn’t one to join the mile high club, cause he thinks that would be pretty hot. jisung thinks a lot of things are pretty hot, actually

M: Motivation

he doesn’t need anything other than you. he’ll be talking to you one time and remember when you stuck a butt plug in him and outright say to you what he’s thinking about. he’ll be working on a song and remember when you bit his collar bone a bit harder than usual, then he’ll run out to call you for a little phone conversation whilst he’s in the disabled bathroom (privacy ofc). so his own creeping thoughts

N: NO

he’s not very much into you calling him degrading names. as much as he likes you spanking him, edging him, etc, he gets a bit upset at the sound of you calling him a slut or whore (you get it). he doesn't seem himself that way, because even is he’s practically begging for you to make him cum over and over, he doesn’t do that for anyone else. he does it for you and only you

O: Oral

he gives and he receives. he loves both, no matter what mood he’s in. he loves how you feel when you suck him off and he also loves to show you how much he’s into you and also impress you with his skills. he’ll do it all just to hear you say how good he is. praise kink, anyone?

P: Pace

definitely on the quicker side no matter what he does. no need to ask him to go faster at all

Q: Quickie

a must have with someone like jisung. he’s frequent to a pout and pulling you into a side room because he really wants to show you just how hard he is for you. he doesn’t prefer them, but he definitely likes them

R: Risk

he thrives on the idea of getting caught. jisung is loud, and he most definitely could moan a bit loud so everyone else knows what he’s doing. it doesn’t embarrass him that much, depending on who might actually catch him doing something, but if someone caught him he would definitely get all cocky because hell yeah, you’re dating him

S: Stamina

usually sticks to a maximum of like 2 rounds, but they’re long. he can endure a lot, especially the longer you’ve been together

T: Toy

loves them all, lives for them, will actively look for them to be used on him. doesn’t really use them on you, but is one to sit back and watch you get off with one as he gets himself off, too. mutual masturbation is a good thing for him, providing that you use that toy on him afterwards, too

U: Unfair

as a brat, he is of course unfair. even with you as the dom, no matter what you do, he still has control somewhere because he’s the worst damn tease around. he’ll listen to your rules, he’ll nod as you tell him he can’t cum until you say, and he’ll do it anyway to get punished, but also because he knows it sends you one step closer to hell anyway. so he’s a tease and it’s completely intentional, especially when he says stuff around other people and smiles widely at you because he just kinda hinted at that one time you let him fuck your mouth… okay jisung

V: Volume

jisung is loud. not kind of loud, not a little bit loud, he is the very definition of loud. cover his mouth loud. have to gag him loud (which he likes). you’re gonna find it hard to keep anything a secret from others because jisung literally does not have a filter and if he likes something you’re doing, he’s gonna tell you and everyone within twenty metres. he talks, he whines, he moans, he whimpers… he is loud

W: Wild Card

it’s not often you were his shirts, and jisung has been begging you to just wear one bc he thinks it will be cute. eventually you give into him and you decide to wear one when you get out of the shower one evening, and jisung was really not expecting you to just have his shirt and a thong on, and he practically fell to his knees at the sight. needless to say you were back in the shower twenty minutes later with jisung following close behind

X: X-Ray

he’s a tiny boy, so probably on the smaller side. it would be a bit weird if he was unexpectedly big, but hey, he has other stuff to work with

Y: Yearning

oh, jisung yearns for you a lot. the amount of pictures he sends when he’s meant to be working, the times he’s pulled you into the bathroom and begged you to do something to help him out, it’s easy to see that jisung has an insatiable need that only you can fulfill. have fun!

Z: ZZZ

he has a lot of energy, so he can’t really just sleep afterwards. he’ll not wanna do stuff with you, like go out and explore or something like that, but he’s happy to watch a movie. he loves just being with you, especially when he loses his bratty tones, so honestly after sex he’s so cuddly and cute that you’ll probably stay up for a bit and both fall asleep by accident

#han smut #jisung smut #han reactions #han Jisung scenario #han jisung smut #han jisung scenarios #jisung scenarios #Han Jisung scenarios #stray kids smut #stray kids reaction #stray kids scenario #stray kids imagine #stray kids

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happys-crazy-queen22 · 5 years ago

Text

Christening The New Office

Gif credit @angels-reyes

Requested on wattpad.

Hope you all enjoy.

Happy Reading Dollies.

Taglist: @ilovetaquitosmmmm. @twistnet. @nocturnalherb16. @baylishh. @myangelreyes

You finished putting up the last picture as there was a knock on the door. Turning around you saw Hank standing there with a buque of flowers and balloons.

"Hey there, Mrs. Big shot". He came in giving you a kiss.

"Hey. I'm not a big shot". You said smelling the flowers.

"What are you talking about? You got this bomb ass office".

"Yeah, because Patterson wanted my office for years and now he's fucked his way to the top so now he can get what ever he wants".

"Thats not true". Hank sighed sitting down on the leather couch.

"Right. You see that girl standing at his door? She's my assistant, them to are having an affair. He wanted my office so he can be with her. She's also the bosses daughter". You said pointed threw the blinds towards your old office, the girl twirling her hair and flirting to the older man sitting in the office.

"Ooooh. Why don't you tell the boss"?

"Because he doesn't care. He's fucking his assistant. This whole building is fucking someone other than their spouse". "It's like a office orgy".

"So who you fucking"? Hank asked crossing his arms across his buff, kutte covered chest.

"Just you I swear. I don't find anyone in this building desirable. They're either eighty years old or just out of high school".

You walked over you to him sitting down on his lap.

"I find you very desirable". You started kissing his neck, his hands rubbed up and down your thigh.

"How about we give your coworkers something to talk about"? He told you while unbuttoning your dress shirt.

"Not on the couch".

"Why"?

"This is Patterson's couch". You started giggling as Hank pusher you off, getting off the couch with disgust.

"Fuck, why is it still here"? He said pumping his hands full with hand sanitizer.

"Office warming gift".

"Doesn't matter my ass would have sweated anyways. What about putting this blanket down". He went through on of the unpacked boxes.

"It's very scratchy. Feels like you're getting covered with cactus. Another office warming. Probably has a bunch of semen stains on it as well". You bellied over laughing as Hank threw it in the trash can stomping on it.

"Is there anything in this office that hasnt been touch by a pervy co-worker"?

"My desk. That's the only thing I asked to take. I really like my desk". Hank smirked.

"You wanna ride"?

You didn't have to answer, Hank started stripping, you shimmied out of your skirt and pushed Hank against the desk. Thankfully it wasn't setup yet. That was a mess you didn't have energy to clean up after your ride.

Hank jumped on the desk laying down, you crawled through his legs, hovering his body kissing along his torso.

"Fuck, baby girl". Hank groaned as you took him in your mouth sucking the head of his cock.

"Shh, I don't want to be the first to get caught". You giggled on his stomach as you kissed up his chest. Straddling his waist, your hands resting on his chest as you grind against his cock, getting him nice and wet with your juices. Just the thought of getting caught made you soaking wet.

Snaking your hand between your bodies, you lined him up and sunk down on his length. Biting your lips as he stretched you.

You started rocking your hips, Hanks hand gripped your hips moving with you.

"Fuck daddy, your dick is so big". Hank smirked, slapping your ass cheek a yelp leaving your mouth.

You picked up your pace, the room was filled with the sound of skin on skin. Your desk was soaked with your juices as they dripped.

Leaning down you kissed Hank deeply and rough pulling at his bottom lip.

"You keep doing that I'm not going to late long". He growled as you started bouncing up and down. Your breast bouncing out of your bra which Hank took to his advantage and grabbed both, rubbing your nipples between his fingers.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum". You upped you speed, that familiar feeling building deep inside you. Hank gripped one breast as the other gripped the desk.

"Come on this dick baby girl". His seductive voice drove you over the edge. You cried out aa you came, your finger nails digging into Hanks chest.

You rode your orgasm out as Hank erupted inside you. A howl came from deep inside him as he shot his warm seed inside you. Feeling him pulse made you whimper, knowing it was the end.

"That was incredible". You said falling on his chest, panting and sweaty.

"We have to do this again and soon". You laughed.

"I have a meeting in twenty minutes so maybe another day". Hank pouted as you got off him, grabbing your shirt off the floor.

"How about I bring lunch tomorrow and we can do this again. I'll even get rid of the couch".

"Sounds like a deal". You said kissing his lips and fixing your clothes in the mirror behind the door.

"I have to go, so lock the door if you're going to be naked, dont want those hoes out there getting a whiff of you. I'll have to beat them off". You say seriously but Hank chuckled.

"I'll do that. Love you".

"Love you too". You blew him a kiss, as you closed the door Hank clasped on the desk, tired. His heart racing.

The next day.

Hank got onto the elevator with a woman that looked run down and need a vacation.

"What floor"? She asked.

"The same as yours. My wife works there".

"Really so does my husband". Hank began to cough. The woman looked at him oddly.

"Who's your husband"?

"Patterson. Your wife"?

"Y/N Loza".

"Aw, she's so nice".

"Thank you she really is. You seem nice too". Hank bit his tongue when really he's wanted to tell her that her husband is a cheating dick.

"Thank you. I hope my husband has time to see me today. He's extremely busy these days".

"Really? Hmm. Y/N is usually home on time. That's weird". He said giving a little hint.

The bell dinged and the elevator stopped the doors opening.

"It's nice meeting you". She said with a smile.

"Nice to meet you too. And I would watch out for a little blond". Hank whispered and walked quickly to your office. She looked at him odd but shrugged it off and went to her husbands office.

Hank slammed your door and peeked through the blinds.

"What are you doing"?

"I may have warned Patterson's wife".

"You didn't"? Hank waved you over pointing to the scene playing out. As Mrs. Patterson opened the door she saw her husband have your assistant bent over his desk. She shreaked ans hurled her purse at the girl b throwing her out the door. Patterson scrambled to get his pants up but his wife stabbed him with a letter opener. You both sat in shock and awe.

"Holy fuck". You say looking to Hank.

"She stabbed him with a letter opener, how cool". Hank laughed, taking a beer out of the picnic basket he had brought giving one to you and one for himself.

"We're witnesses you know that"?

"I say he deserved it. Not guilty". Hank chuckled.

"Now let's take down the whole floor".

"This isnt a game, it's my job".

"But if they're gone, probably in the hospital or the morgue then that leaves you to take over". "It's a win, win".

"You're very smart my love". You kissed his cheek as he watched the security guards tackle Mrs. Patterson to the floor, Hank booed the whole time. It was a fun day in the office.

#hank loza imagines.#hank loza #tranq loza mayans #tranq loza x reader #tranq loza imagine #tranq loza fanfiction #tranq loza #mayans mc imagine #mayans smut #mayans imagine #mayans fanfic #happys crazy queen22

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vantaestummy · 5 years ago

Note

it’s been a really awful summer friend-wise for me but your work always cheers me up, perhaps when you have the time or if you don’t mind the prompt, could you write a little bit of minjoon for me? jiminnie comes home from a rough day, overworked himself to the point of illness & tears. joon does his best to comfort him, doing whatever he may need. emeto only , please. you rock!!

the A/N: same bby. i had a friend straight up kiss my crush that i’ve had for like three years. it’s all good. i hope this helps.

TW///emeto & descriptions of panic and stress

————————————

Jimin’s part time job consists of teaching ballet to little kids at a dance academy, one that is not too far from him and Namjoon’s apartment.

Jimin loves his job with all his heart. He loves working with children and helping them to enhance their dance skills. He only wishes that he himself, had gotten such an early start. Maybe then, his technique would be impeccable.

Let Namjoon tell it, his dancing is impeccable. Jimin couldn’t have asked for a more supportive boyfriend. Namjoon always makes sure to film his performances, cheer for him the loudes in the crowdt, and is the first at the stage door with Jimin’s favorite chocolates and a bouquet of flowers just to drive the point home. Jimin couldn’t be more lucky, but today, the dancer doesn’t think that the comfort of his boyfriend is enough to get him through.

One of the parents had complained that their daughter wasn’t getting enough out of the class. Apparently, Jimin’s teaching style was not worth the money she was paying, and asked for his immediate removal, rather than questioning the motives of her child. In reality, the girl is a brat, always picking on the other students and never taking the exercises seriously. Jimin always made sure to create a positive and friendly environment for his students, but this girl takes advantage of Jimin’s kindness. He doesn’t blame her, really. She is clearly spoiled and acting out because dancing is not what she wants to do. And that’s okay. It is her mother who is forcing her into an activity that she hates, and on top of that, giving her everything that she wants regardless of whether or not she is deserving.

When Jimin gets called into the boss’s office, he knows that this is the end. He knows that he is going to be let go. The mere thought of it brings tears to his eyes. Thankfully, his boss Hoseok is one of the kindnest, most understanding people in the world.

Unfortunately, his hands might be tied.

“Jimin-ah, you’re amazing, you are, and even though I believe you, we have to figure something out. I’m not firing you, but if she goes above my head and contacts my boss, I don’t think there will be much that I can do. Just, don’t stress, okay? We’ll figure this out.”

And as kind as Hoseok was, Jimin didn’t heed his advice.

On the bus ride home, Jimin is a puddle of tears, blood pulsing through his veins, making him ridiculously dizzy and worst of all, nauseous. Jimin wasn’t necessarily prone to motion sickness, but with the swaying of the bus, as well as all of his pent up anxiety from the fear of losing his job, he couldn’t take it.

As soon as the bus stops, Jimin is off and running, his feet pounding against the pavement as runs to where his boyfriend is. Tears pour down his red cheeks, making it nearly impossible to see from how blurry they are.

Jimin snatches his keys from his back pocket, his hands trembling from all the nerves. He can see the key that will open his front door, but his hands shake so much that picking it from the ring is incredibly difficult.

The door opens, Namjoon having heard all of the ruckus Jimin had caused.

“Baby? Jimin-ah what’s wrong? Baby.” Namjoon cups at Jimin’s cheek, the younger of the two still trying to find the right key.

“J-Joonie, Joonie-hyung―” Jimin weeps, falling into Namjoon’s front side as he collapses. Namjoon pulls him inside, hoisting the fragile dancer into his arms as he kicks the door closed. “Baby, baby talk to me, please, what’s wrong?”

Jimin sobs, his chest heaving as he tries to regain control of his breathing.

“I-I c-can’t breathe hyungie―”

“Look at me, baby it’s okay, I’m right here. You’re okay.”

As Jimin’s sobs become more forceful, they start to morph into something more grotesque, his stomach leaping into his throat.

Jimin starts to gag.

“’M, ‘m gonna throw up.” He weeps.

Namjoon nods, trying desperately to calm his raging heart.

“Okay, okay baby. Let’s go to the bathroom, okay?”

Jimin’s voice cracks as he inhales with a wheeze. “O-Okay.”

Namjoon carries a frail Jimin down the hall and into the bathroom, the younger man choking and sputtering beneath the palm of his hand. He tries to swallow down the bile in his throat, but it only makes his stomach feel sicker.

Jimin nearly breaks his knee bones as he collapses in front of the toilet, gagging fruitlessly over the toilet, spit flying from his lips. He coughs, a small splash of the salad that he ate for lunch, trickling into the toilet.

Namjoon whimpers, the hurt that he feels for his boyfriend, more than evident.

“My Jimin, my poor Jimin-ah, what made you sick like this baby?”

Jimin croaks, choking out a surprising torrent of vomit. His heaves echo within the porcelain, grated and broken. His retches are crackled and frayed with anguish, so loud that Namjoon can hear the damage that Jimin is causing to his throat. He heaves, his head almost hitting the toilet lid as his body jolts forward from the force of his sound. Jimin squeaks as another forceful round of vomit pours from his lips. He raises a shaking hand to flush but the effort takes far too much energy than his body is willing to give.

“Baby, you have to calm down. You’ll only make yourself feel worse. I need you to take deep breaths with me. I’ll do it with you, here, feel.” Namjoon takes Jimin’s weak hand into his own, placing it against his chest as he exaggerates every breath. “Just like this, breath with me. In, and out, in, and out, yes, Jimin-ah, like that.”

Jimin shivers, his breaths stuttered as he tries to follow the melody of Namjoon’s voice. Jimin has always loved Namjoon’s voice, so deep and tranquil.

Jimin breathes out on a deep exhale, his voice still withered, raspy, from the vomiting. Namjoon pets at his hair. “Jimin, do you think you can stand? Let me take care of you.”

Jimin mewls, shriveling up against the toilet. “I ‘on’t know... My stomach... it hurts...”

“Do you still feel nauseous?”

Jimin ponders the question for a moment. He shakes his head.

“No, just, achey.”

“Well let’s get you up. You need to rest. You’ve been working too hard.”

Jimin winces as Namjoon cradles him, pulling him to his feet and flushing the toilet with his foot.

Jimin giggles bitterly, tears sprinkling to life in his eyes. “Look at me, I’m so―”

“Don’t you dare. This is your body’s way of telling you that you need a break. Not only have you been going to school, but working with the dance team as well as teaching the kids? Baby, you pulling yourself too thin.”

Did Jimin mention that Namjoon is a nurse in training? It’s a plus, but sometimes, his boyfriend’s knowledge can work against him.

“I like working Joon-ah. I like to feel like I’m doing something.” Jimin mumbles with a pout. He is curled up on the couch, his hands tucked into tiny fists against his chest. Namjoon gets the tea going before draping a cover over Jimin’s small body.

“You’re always doing something Jimin. When was the last time you had anything to eat besides take-home salads and protein shakes? When was the last time you slept more than five hours? You never come to bed with me anymore. I sometimes get up to check on you and you’ll still be practicing till three in the morning. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t have to get up at six in the morning to get ready to teach a class, not to mention that you have your own classes right after that. You’re tearing yourself apart and I’m not going to stand for this any longer. Tomorrow, you’re taking the day off.”

Jimin gasps, a giggle spilling from his lips. He can’t really believe Namjoon’s audacity, but, it is also incredibly endearing.

“Joon-ah, I can’t just―”

“You are. You’re taking the day off tomorrow and so will I. I’m going to cook for you, erh, I’ll order in, and we can watch movies like we used to and... spend time together. I know this sounds selfish but, as much as I want you to rest for you, I want you to rest for me. I love you Jimin.”

The tiny dancer laughs uncontrollably, his voice still tinged with pain from being sick, but he can’t help it.

His boyfriend is so good to him.

“I love you more, Joonie.”

“Impossible. I love you most.”

Jimin titters, pulling Namjoon in for a hug. “Come, rest with me.”

Namjoon kisses his forehead. “After I finish your tea. When you feel better, do you think you’ll be able to tell me what made you feel so bad? You really scared me baby.”

Jimin sighs, grazing Namjoon’s cheek with his thumb.

“A mom at the studio. She says her kid isn’t learning anything in the class when really, her daughter is the one causing so much trouble. I don’t know what else to do. Hoseok-hyung said that he wouldn’t fire me but, if this mom complains again, it might be out of his hands.”

Namjoon frowns. “Have you had a talk with this mom? Has Hoseok?”

Jimin shakes his head. “No but, she’s one of the studio’s best clients. Her whole family has trained there. This girl though... she doesn’t want to dance. I can tell Namjoon. She hates it there and so, she acts out. Now her mom is blaming me.”

Namjoon nods his head. This is a tricky situation, and with Jimin’s job on the line, it’s no wonder that he suffered such a massive panic attack.

“Why don’t we have a talk with this mom, and if push comes to shove, we’ll find you someplace else to work. You need to give yourself more credit. You are one of the most talented dancers I know Jimin-ah. Any studio would be honored to have you as a teacher.”

Jimin groans, leaning against the pillows of the couch. “What did I do to deserve you...”

Namjoon smiles. “I should be asking you the same thing.”

Suddenly, the smoke alarm goes off.

“Shit.” Namjoon jumps to his feet to turn off the tea kettle. Jimin laughs, the joyous sound bringing a dimpled smile to his face.

“This is why we are ordering in tomorrow.” He calls out, melting into the couch cushions as his body succumbs to sleep.

Namjoon is right, he needs a break.

#sick #sick!jimin #sickfic #caretaker!namjoon #my fic #sick!minjoon #bts sickfic #emeto #tw vomiting #tw anxiety #tw vomit

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

Tree House Kisses, Chapter 25 (Adorney) - Scorpio and Veronica

A/N: Click here for previous chapters. xoxo!

Chapter Summary: Grease finishes its illustrious run, and we end the school year with Prom and a group trip to the movies.

TW: homophobia

Chapter 25: Hopelessly Devoted To You

Despite their opening night drama, the rest of the weekend’s performances of Grease went off without a hitch. The principal agreed to beef up security and they kept would-be protestors far away from the theatre - so after 2 days they got bored and stopped showing up.

And, possibly because of all the controversy, ticket sales soared, and they ended up getting a write-up in the Arts section of a big San Gabriel Valley newspaper.

Alyssa was so jazzed by the extra attention that she began to ham it up even more than she had during rehearsals. One night, during the drive-in scene, she hit Roy so hard one night that he had a bruise the next day.

“Where are the fucking protesters for THAT?!” Roy whined, as he got ready that night.

“I mean, you were trying to date rape her,” Courtney reasoned.

“NO I WASN’T!” Roy screeched. “My character was! Why should I get a bruise for something he does?! This is reverse sexism!”

“Awwww…” Courtney soothed, climbing into his lap. “Poor baby…”

“Reverse sexism,” Darienne chuckled to herself, “Like that’s a thing.”

“It is!” Roy insisted.

Courtney kissed his cheek, teasingly saying, “I know, it’s so hard to be a sensitive male these days.”

“It really is,” he whimpered, resting his head on her chest.

“Oh, BOO HOO!” Alyssa crowed from nearby. “Listen, you just watch out the next time Danny tries to touch my girl without consent. I’ll break your goddamn fingers!”

“Alyssa…” Darienne laughed, shaking her head. “I think you’re going off book, here.”

“I think she’s going off the fucking deep end!” Roy said. “Anyone got a straightjacket?”

Alyssa grinned devilishly at him, making some punching motions in the air.

Roy nuzzled against Courtney’s neck. “You’re still her understudy, right? Can we have her killed?”

ADORE: You coming to the diner?

PEARL: Yeah, I just have to finish up here first. Order me some fries?

ADORE: You got it.

Pearl tucked her phone back into her pocket, turning her attention to the backdrops. She had to stay a little longer than the cast after the show was over to help reset all the set pieces for the next night. Most of the cast and crew had left, waiting for their rides or making their way to a nearby diner for post-show bonding.

Pearl unlocked the wheels of the drive-in set, pulling the backdrop behind her as she headed to the wings, accidentally running over her own foot in the process.

“Motherfucker,” Pearl groaned, reaching down to rub her throbbing foot.

“Need some help?” Shea appeared from behind the backdrop, catching Pearl by surprise.

“Shea? Hey! Uh, yeah I could use some help,” Pearl nodded, the pain in her foot completely forgotten.

“We're gonna leave it right here,” Pearl guided, nodding to the other backdrop already tucked away.

“Here?”

“Yep, now just lock the wheel on that side. I'll do this one.” Pearl quickly locked the wheel then glanced up to see Shea bent over, face scrunched in confusion. “It’s… it’s right there.”

Pearl walked over to her and bent down, showing her how to lock the wheel.

“You just… and it’s locked,” she smiled.

“Oh,” Shea nodded, gazing up into her eyes before clearing her throat. “Easier than it looked.”

She straightened up, then followed Pearl back to the stage to grab some of the Burger Palace pieces.

“Mhm,” Pearl nodded, gesturing to the booth that they needed to move. “This one slides pretty easily.”

Shea helped her work, biting her lip every time they locked eyes.

“The show’s been going well,” Shea said finally, looking at Pearl with earnest brown eyes.

“Yeah, people wanted to see what all the hoopla was about after the first night,” Pearl shrugged, brushing her hands off and looking around to see if anything else needed to be moved before tomorrow.

“Hoopla?” Shea brows furrowed in confusion before letting a laugh escape her.

“Yeah, you know, all the commotion, the hoopla.” Pearl’s hand swirled in the air nonchalantly, but the moment Shea burst in laughter, Pearl found herself giggling along.

“Who actually uses the word ‘hoopla' besides someone's grandpa?” Shea shook her head, following Pearl towards the exit, shoulders brushing together as they walked.

“I don't know, I don't know… I watched Spongebob the other day. Really, I've never used that word until now,” Pearl said, turning towards Shea as they approached the big double doors.

“Wow, Hoopla. I should start using that word. It's fun to say,” Shea giggled.

“It is,” Pearl chuckled, then bit down on her bottom lip, her gaze moving to Shea’s full lips.

Shea noticed, her own laughter fading off.

Pearl’s heart leaped to her throat as the silence between them filled with an energy she'd only encountered a few times before. She put one hand on the heavy door, and Shea did the same, their fingers bumping.

Eyes snapped to each other, gauging the other’s reaction. Pearl’s tongue darted across her lip as she leaned towards Shea, eyes flickering between glossed lips and wide eyes.

“Shea!”

The sound of Sasha’s voice had Shea stumbling back, right into a rack of costumes, a small gasp leaving her lips.

Pearl frowned, reaching to help her, but when her hands were swatted away, she backed up letting Shea have her space.

“Shea, you back here? Shea?” Sasha rounded the curtain, footsteps stuttering when she saw Pearl running her fingers through her thick blonde hair, looking at Shea with nervous eyes, while Shea hurriedly righted the wardrobe rack, re-hanging the pieces that had fallen off the hangers.

In a bizarre compromise with her mother, Darienne had been allowed to stay in the show despite the “evil pro-gay message” but not participate in any of the fun stuff, like going to the diner after the performances with the rest of the cast and crew.

Courtney had just been texting her a sympathetic message when she looked up. Bob was in the middle of an animated story, while Roy interjected with corrections and insults, as per usual. But what Courtney noticed wasn’t the boys, but how Adore sat in a booth nearby, staring into space.

She decided to take advantage of this rare moment while Raja was distracted at the jukebox with Raven, and squeezed her bestie on the shoulder to grab her attention.

“Hey...”

“What’s up?” Adore asked, giving her a half-smile, biting down on a fry.

“You were great tonight. I mean, you’re always great, but…” Courtney gave her a bright smile.

Adore swallowed. “Thanks. Um, you too.”

Courtney slid into the booth beside her, wrapping her arms around her waist and looking up at her with loving eyes.

“You’re so beautiful…”

“Alright, who gave you weed?” Adore scoffed. “Willam? Pearl?”

“Nobody! I’m totally sober. You’re just pretty, that’s all.”

“Well...thanks,” Adore bit her lip.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” Courtney asked, lashes fluttering.

“Uh. Of course. You’re stunning. Gorgeous. A living doll.” Adore glanced around helplessly. Where was Raja? Where was Roy?

Courtney giggled and nuzzled her cheek.

“What’s going on over here?” Raja asked, strolling up.

Before Adore could open her mouth, Courtney piped up, “Not much, I was just molesting your girlfriend.” She smiled coyly, head still on Adore’s shoulder.

“Oh yeah?” Raja sat down. “Seems reasonable.”

“Courtney, knock it off!” Adore said, shrugging her off.

Raja snickered, saying, “Oh yeah, you looked like you were really suffering there.”

Adore folded her arms crossly.

“Dory, don’t be mad…” Courtney pouted.

“Yeah Dory, don’t be mad.” Raja reached over to steal a French fry, brow arched suggestively.

“Ugh, you both suck!” Adore said, getting up and stomping over to the counter.

Courtney opened her mouth, eyes wide and innocent. “What?!”

Raja laughed, shaking her head. “Just let her sulk. Have some fries.”

After closing night, there was a wrap party at Pearl’s house, complete with Karaoke machine, mini strobe lights, and sundae bar. Or as Willam lovingly dubbed it, “the ultimate nerd fest.”

Pearl sat on top of her kitchen counter, nodding her head to the beat of the music, watching the party around her as she sipped from her cup of punch.

“Pearl!” Sasha smiled as she entered the kitchen to get some snacks, pulling the blonde’s attention away from Shangela and Alyssa’s karaoke performance.

“Sup,” she nodded.

“What’re you doing in here by yourself?” Sasha asked, crumbling a handful of potato chips over her chocolate ice cream, then topped the whole thing with caramel sauce.

“Just chilling,” Pearl shrugged, then gestured to Sasha’s sundae. “That’s genius.”

“Salty and sweet,” Sasha nodded and the two girls went silent for a moment as she dug in.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” Pearl leaned forward, elbows on her knees.

“Sure.” Sasha nodded.

“Um…I’m usually a pretty good judge of when I like, vibe with a girl. And…and I really like Shea, and sometimes it seems like she likes me back. But then…I don’t know, sometimes I feel like I’m totally barking up the wrong tree. Am I crazy?”

“Well…” Sasha took a small bite of her ice cream, head titled thoughtfully. “We haven’t talked about it. And if we had, I wouldn’t tell you, because, you know, BFF trust.”

“Of course.”

“But, just from what I’ve seen…I don’t think you’re crazy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. The thing is…” Sasha paused. “She's not like you. I mean, she’s still probably figuring some things out.”

Pearl nodded knowingly; Shea wouldn't be the first confused (or closeted) girl she had a crush on.

“So as long as you get that she’s in a different place, and you’re careful of her feelings…I don’t think you’re barking up the wrong tree. I just think you might need to be extra patient. You know?”

“Yeah.” Pearl nodded, taking another sip of her drink. “Thanks.”

“No problem. And, in case you’re wondering, she’s out by the pool. Last I saw, she was talking to Carmen and Laganja.

“Awesome.” Pearl flashed a smile, hopping off the counter.

“Adore, you wanna do ‘Bidi Bidi Bom Bom,’ or ‘No Me Queda Más’?” April asked, flipping through the karaoke book.

“Uhhh…” Adore paused, eyeing Courtney and Roy on the sofa before looking back at April to suggest, “What about ‘Dreaming of You’?”

April scoffed. “Omigod, you’re so basic! That’s her whitest song, you fuckin’ gringa!”

“Well, I don’t really speak Spanish, dude, sorry!” Adore defended herself with a shrug. “You know that.”

“Okay, fine, ‘Dreaming of You.’ But will you at least try ‘No Me Queda Más’?”

“I’ll do my best.”

April nodded, writing down the track numbers and handing them to Bob, who was lording over the rented karaoke machine with an iron fist. “Sir, please?”

While Adore waited for their turn, her attention drifted back to Courtney, curled in Roy’s lap, feeding him her ice cream sundae. They’d been sickeningly sweet all night, and while Adore was trying to ignore their nauseatingly adorable antics, it was proving harder and harder.

“I have no idea why I’m eating this,” Roy murmured, licking a drip off Courtney’s finger. “I don’t even like vanilla.”

“That’s funny, ‘cause I think a vanilla sundae is the perfect metaphor for you two dweebs,” Willam called from across the room, causing Bob to snicker and high five him.

“Fuck off!” Courtney shouted back. “I put rainbow sprinkles on it. And this cherry.” She lifted the maraschino cherry out by the stem, twirling it on her tongue.

“Give me that…” Roy said.

“Oh, you want this?” Courtney teased, batting her lashes. She glanced over to see if Adore was watching, feeling a rush of adrenaline from the other girl’s eyes on her.

“Yes. Please baby, give me your cherry…”

Courtney giggled, dangling it in front of him tauntingly. “Say please again, tell me how much you want it…” she breathed.

Unable to take it anymore, Adore got up, utterly disgusted, and stalked outside.

“Adore! Come back, we’re up next!” April called.

“Raincheck,” Adore grumbled, slamming the sliding glass door behind her.

Courtney paused, holding the cherry mid-air, wondering if she’d gone too far. She wanted Adore’s attention, but not to piss her off.

“Babyyy,” Roy whimpered.

“Here,” Courtney said, shoving the cherry into his mouth and letting out a disappointed sigh.

Adore found Raja out on the patio with Jinkx, smoking and drinking. She went up to Raja and demanded a cigarette.

“You don’t smoke,” the older girl told her breezily.

“I do tonight,” she insisted.

Raja handed Adore her lit cigarette and lit another for herself, watching her carefully. Adore looked over at Jinkx, holding a bottle of Jack Daniels, and snatched it out of her hands, taking a long slug, then another.

“You okay there, tiger?” Jinkx asked.

Adore wiped her mouth, shrugging. Pearl and Shea were sitting on top of a retaining wall, just a few feet away. Adore looked over at them just as Shea whispered something to Pearl, both laughing softly. Adore narrowed her eyes, irritated.

“What’s with you two?” she asked hoarsely. “Are you like, fucking now?”

Shea’s eyes widened in shock.

“Adore!” Pearl cried, horrified.

“Um, I have to...I should probably get going...it’s late and I need...uh…” Shea stammered, sliding down and backing away.

“Shea, I’m sorry, you don’t have to go, you can-” Pearl protested.

“No, it’s fine, I should have left earlier anyway, but...I’ll see you around, okay?” She turned around, hurrying from the yard through the side gate.

Pearl turned towards Adore, irritated, as shrieking laughter sounded from the pool.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Pearl began.

Nearby, Raven’s voice called out, “Raja! Come here!!”

Raja looked over to the pool, where Raven was fooling around with a bunch of kids and some massive flotation devices, then back at Adore. She took Jinkx by the hand and dragged her over to the pool, leaving Adore and Pearl alone on the patio.

Adore sighed, pulling her flannel tighter around herself. Despite it being May, there was a chill in the air.

Pearl watched her for a few moments before saying, “Alright. Out with it. What’s going on?”

“What?” Adore asked defensively.

“There’s only one thing that puts you in this kind of mood, so what? They do some gross hetero promise ring bullshit? He banging her out in one of the back bedrooms? Tell me.”

Adore sighed. “No, they’re just...eating an ice cream sundae.”

“Oh yeah,” Pearl nodded. “I can see why that would send you over the edge.”

“You weren’t there.”

“True.”

“It was really...too much.” Adore sighed again, taking another drag of the cigarette.

“Have you ever considered just telling her how you feel?”

“About as much as I’ve considered putting this cigarette out in my own eye,” Adore replied.

“Gotcha.”

“This is disgusting, by the way.”

Pearl nodded. “Yeah, it’s awful. Takes years off your life, too.”

“Ugh. Fuck this whole fucking night, man.”

Pearl moved closer to her, put a hand on her shoulder.

“Listen. I’m sorry you’re having a rough night. And you know, I really love you, and I’m always here if you want to talk. But...if you ever fuck up my game again, I will punch you in the face.”

Adore laughed and covered her eyes. “Shit. Sorry.”

Pearl kissed her forehead. “It’s alright. You get one pass.”

Adore sat on the retaining wall, holding the empty bottle of Jack, feeling slightly dizzy and more than a little sick. Her downcast eyes were dull with regret.

“So…fun party, huh?”

She looked up to see Raja standing there, with that typical, aloof expression, and her body tensed up, tears filling her eyes.

“Raja, don’t. I don’t want to talk about it, okay? I just, I can’t, I can’t explain, I don’t-”

“Hey, hey, I’m not asking you to explain anything.” Raja stepped forward, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Adore sniffled, guilt filling her chest. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m also not asking you to apologize. We all have shitty days. It’s fine. Yesterday I kicked over a trash can and called Raven a cow.”

“Seriously?” Adore laughed, amused in spite of her shitty mood.

“It’s fine, she deserved it.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Adore wiped her eyes.

Raja smiled. “You wanna get out of here?”

“God, yes.”

“Cool.” She took her fingers and gently tilted Adore’s chin up, placing a soft, sweet kiss on her lips. “You really are so beautiful, you know that?”

Adore sighed. “Sure you’re not just looking at your own reflection in my eyeballs?”

Raja grasped both of her cheeks and looked closer at her face. “Holy shit! How have I never seen my own reflection before?”

Adore giggled.

“Hold still! Oh my god, she is stunning!”

“Stop it.”

Raja helped her down and led them towards the gate, an arm slung around Adore’s shoulders.

“Seriously, I don’t know how you manage to concentrate on anything with all this staggering beauty in front of you…”

Courtney stood at the stove, stirring a pot of tomato sauce, as Adore perched on the counter. They were discussing prom—or rather, Raja’s prom, which Adore was having second thoughts about attending.

“Don’t you think that she should understand how you feel? I mean you were basically hate-crimed on stage,” Courtney said.

“Well. I think she does understand, but on the other hand…it’s her prom. And I said I’d go, like a month ago,” Adore reasoned.

“But that was a month ago,” Courtney said. “Come here, taste this.”

Adore jumped down, sighing, and walked over to her.

“I don’t know. I mean, yeah, it was a month ago. But…”

Courtney blew on the wooden spoon, cupping Adore’s chin gently in her hand. She fed her a small taste of the sauce, eyes watching her carefully.

“Do you think it’s too spicy?” she whispered.

Closing her eyes for a moment as Courtney’s fingers brushed against her cheek, a thrill rippling through her at the contact, Adore shook her head.

“No, it...it’s good.” She cleared her throat and took a few steps back. “Um, maybe a pinch more salt?”

“Thanks.” Courtney nodded and went back to the stove, humming slightly. “I think you should do whatever you feel comfortable with. She may be a little bummed if you decide not to go, but Raja doesn’t seem like the type to make a huge deal over prom anyway. Right?”

“Yeah, I...I mean that’s what I thought, but...I dunno.” Adore sighed again, sitting down heavily at the table. “I just really don’t want to make this a big fucking thing.”

Courtney sat down beside her. “So don’t.”

“But isn’t that selling out? Letting the bigots win?” Adore’s voice broke, remembering the heated conversation with Raja earlier that day.

Courtney scooted her chair closer, biting her lip, a slight guilt washing over her. She knew that if she didn’t have ambivalent feelings about Raja, about Adore’s moony-eyed puppy love, the was a chance she might be saying something slightly different. Maybe. But ulterior motives aside, she didn’t like to see her friend so torn up inside. She reached out and took Adore’s hand.

“Listen. Will you have to stand up to these kind of assholes someday? Yeah, probably. And when you do, I’ll stand up with you. But does it have to be over someone else’s prom? This week? Not unless you want. It’s still your life. You are the only one who can make that decision.”

Adore nodded. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Courtney brushed a lock of hair off of Adore’s face

ADORE: Well. Turns out I was being a total pissbaby drama queen. It was just a fucking dance, no one said a word.

ADORE: Like, literally, nothing happened and I feel like a complete asshole.

COURTNEY: So you had fun?

ADORE: Yeah. I mean, you know. It was a school dance. It wasn’t life-changing or anything. Lol. But sure, it was fun.

ADORE: I might just not be a school dance type. I don’t have a lot of...like...spirit.

COURTNEY: Well, yeah, duh. ;P

ADORE: lol

COURTNEY: <3

ADORE: I’m gonna sleep now but wanna hang out later?

COURTNEY: Sure. Text me when you wake up.

ADORE: Ok. XO

COURTNEY: XO

Adore wasn’t positive why she agreed to this. Granted, she always used to be part of the group movie night expeditions with the neighborhood crew, but ever since she’d branched off and started to hang out with Violet’s group, she’d found one excuse or another to say no. But for some reason, today, she found herself in the local multiplex with Courtney, Roy, Darienne, Thorgy, Bob, April, Alyssa, and Jamin - who she supposed was off probation now that Darienne could stand to be around him again. To make matters worse, they had collectively decided on the most basic of all basic movies - some superhero action nonsense starring Christian Bale and Joey from Dawson’s Creek, who was way less cool when stripped of her Joey vocabulary words.

Adore sighed, sipping her swimming pool sized soda. At least Roy, in a show of macho bravado, had offered to pay for her and Courtney’s snacks. So she had gigantic popcorn, 2 Kit Kat bars, Junior Mints, Twizzlers, Sour Patch Kids, and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups to help her get through the experience. It cost her some side-eye, but whatever. If he was dumb enough to make that offer, then he should be prepared to handle the consequences.

It would have been nice if Raja could have made it, but as usual, she was working. It seemed like lately, the only time they had together was super late at night after CeCe’s closed down. She couldn’t blame her girlfriend - she knew that Raja was saving up to get her own place. But still, it was a little annoying to be sandwiched between April and Bob on one side (who she was pretty sure were engaging in some kind of gross hand job action under Bob’s letterman jacket), and Courtney and Roy on the other, cuddling and making Adore want to vomit, as usual.

Courtney turned towards Adore, a contented smile on her face.

“I am totally not following the plot of this movie,” she whispered, giggling.

Adore rolled her eyes. “It’s not that deep. He’s afraid of bats. He becomes a bat. Joey Potter loves him for some inexplicable reason.”

“Right. I keep thinking there must be more to it though?”

“Nope.”

Courtney inched closer to Adore.

“This theatre is freezing. Share your jacket with me.” She gazed over with a pouty face, fluttering her lashes.

Adore shrugged her off. It was one thing when they were alone, but when she pulled this kind of stuff in front of other people, it always made Adore extremely self-conscious. It was a total lose-lose for her. If she reacted too eagerly, it would be totally obvious to everyone and their mother how hard she was crushing on her best friend, but when she pushed her away, she had to deal with those hurt puppy eyes.

“Get off, bitch…”

“Please, Dory. I’ll be your best friend forever and-”

“SHHH!” Bob hissed.

“How are you not more relaxed right now?” Adore challenged, gesturing to his lap. April’s eyes went wide in embarrassment. Adore smirked and sat back in her seat.

“Babe, come here. You can wear my jacket.”

Courtney snuggled up to Roy, lovingly placing a piece of popcorn in his mouth. What was it with Courtney and feedinghim? Was that like a kink thing? Adore shook her head. Sick. She sighed again, shifting uncomfortably. It was possible that the largest size soda wasn’t the best idea.

On the screen, Joey Potter was reaching towards Christian Bale, drawing him towards her.

Courtney inhaled sharply, and reached over, instinctively grasping for Adore’s hand in the dark, holding on tight while the actors’ lips met in a slow kiss, the music soaring. Adore’s heart pounded. She knew that this was just Courtney, it didn’t really mean anything, but it didn’t change how it made her feel. How it made her palms sweat and her pulse race, to be here in the dark, fingers intertwined and slippery with fake butter.

And then, of course, she saw Roy’s eyes, just for a moment, when the screen flashed white. Glaring at her. Did he know? Was Adore that transparent? Or was he just peeved that Courtney was grabbing Adore’s hand and not his? Anxiety filled Adore’s chest and she wrenched her hand away.

Courtney, oblivious as always, leaned her head on Roy’s shoulder and continued to watch the movie while Adore gripped the arms of the seat, her knuckles turning white. She got up and bolted for the exit, muttering about the bathroom.

Courtney turned her head and watched as Adore raced up the aisle, then turned back to the screen, biting her lip. A lump formed in her throat. She was so tired of this endless loop they were in - Courtney reaching out, taking the smallest baby steps, only to have Adore push her away. Maybe it was useless. Maybe Violet was right all those months ago when she said that Adore would never like her back. She sighed.

Roy kissed the top of her head. “Bored, baby?”

“Uh, no, just...sorry, my mind wandered a little. This movie is so dark. I think I need more color to hold my attention.”

Roy laughed, pressing his lips to her temple. “You’re the fucking cutest, you know that?”

Courtney smiled up at him. “How about after the movie, you can tell me all about how cute I am?” She kissed him lightly, sliding a hand up his thigh.

“Deal.”

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s-trawberryv-eins · 5 years ago

Text

The Birthday

NOT MY GIF

The Birthday

Summary: Caroline Stark died in the snap that wiped out half of the population of the universe. She died two months before her 21st birthday. She was brought back to life in the October after what would've been her 26th. On the evening of what should be her 27th birthday, she feels as though she doesn't know who she should be anymore.

Warnings: Angst, loneliness, swearing. Not as sad as it seems though!

Please read here before reading!

Stark!OC x avengers

Word count: 3308

The Caroline Stark Series Masterlist

AUGUST 11th, 2024

AVENGERS COMPOUND

UPSTATE NEW YORK

As she lay with her head in Pepper’s lap, she made no effort to fight the hot tears that built up in her chocolate brown eyes. Delicate fingers worked through soft hair that spilled across her lap. Watching the girl with a look of heartbreak in her eyes, a sigh fell from Peppers lips.

“Please talk to me, baby.” Pleading with the girl in front of her, she felt at a loss. Having her daughter come back from the dead was a miracle; something she'd lost all hope for in the first few months after the snap. It never occurred to her the trauma Caroline now carried on her shoulders, however. Here they were, Caroline laying with her adoptive mother, sobs wracking her body on the eve of her birthday.

“How old am I, Momma?” Caroline had asked an hour earlier when she arrived at the Stark women’s quarters from the lab. Peppers heart broke for the girl, distress written clearly on every one of her delicate features. The woman said nothing, instead she simply sat on the couch and opened her arms wide for her daughter.

As it drew closer to midnight, the eldest Stark daughter couldn’t find the energy to be excited. She couldn't find the want to be excited. Tear stained cheeks red and puffy, eyes sore and bloodshot, the Potts woman wracked her brain for a way to cheer her daughter up, and perhaps salvage her birthday even the slightest bit.

“Am I 20 or am I 26? Because there’s a big difference, you know?” Stuttering through her speech, she couldn’t catch her breath. “Do you remember what we had planned for my 21st? Me, you, and Dad were gonna go to Coney Island? Fairground rides and hot dogs and a bonfire on the beach?"

“Yes, and then you were going to see Amelie and the others, and pretend it was your first-time drinking.” A sly smile crossed Pepper’s face as her daughters’ eyes widened comically.

“Dad promised he wouldn’t tell!”

“Tony knew?!” The brief silence quickly dissolved into giggles as the two women recalled the memories fondly.

“I know it’s last minute, but it’s really important!” Pepper spoke with equal parts frustration and excitement as she worked to pull her thoughts together. Caroline had long since fallen asleep on the couch, a blanket placed delicately over her sleeping form. After the less than cheery conversation the two shared, the CEO decided she knew exactly how to cheer the girl up.

“Barnes, I swear to all that’s holy this had better work!” Setting her phone down on the coffee table, she headed off to bed, knowing tomorrow would be a roller coaster of a day.

AUGUST 12th, 2024

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAROLINE” The loud girlish scream startled Caroline awake. Propping herself up on her elbows, Pepper met her eyes, offering her a sympathetic smile. Morgan, upon deciding she was simply not close enough, hopped up on to the sofa, all but climbing on top of her sister. A blinding smile and a big cuddle from the youngest Stark wasn’t a bad way to start the morning, Caroline thought to herself.

“Thankyou, baby.” Planting a kiss on her head, the scientist reached for her mother, who wasted no time in joining the sisters in their cuddle.

“We’ve got a surprise waiting for you in the kitchen.” Trying to muster up some enthusiasm was proving to be difficult, so she plastered on a fake smile and headed upstairs to change. Despite the early August sun shining down without relent, she pulled on a black sports bra and leggings, and threw her favourite black cropped jumped on over the top. Comfort over anything else, she decided. Jogging back downstairs, Morgan grabbed her sister’s hand and tugged her firmly in the direction of the communal kitchen.

Much to her relief, it was almost empty. As the three Stark ladies entered the room, they were greeted by FRIDAY, and Bucky Barnes.

“Good morning, Caroline! Happy birthday!" Thanking the AI, she placed Morgan on one of the kitchen stools before trying and failing to catch the Winter Soldiers attention, too engrossed in whatever he was cooking.

“I need to head to my office for a little while. Will you two be okay?” Kissing each of the girls on the forehead, they watched silently as their mother went off to work.

“Bye, Momma” Morgan piped up when Pepper was definitely out of earshot, earning a look of confusion from Caroline. “Uh…Uncle Buck?” Watching the soldier with entertainment, she reached out with tiny hands to grab a handful of napkins, throwing them haphazardly in his direction.

“UNCLE BUCK!” Spinning on his heels, cheeks flushed red and a lazy smile on his face, Morgan waved innocently. Receiving a wink and a high five from the soldier, a smile broke out across her face before she pointed at her sister. “It's sissy’s birthday.” The bluntness of her statement made him chuckle, but he simply nodded and motioned for the doctor to join him.

“Morning, Sergeant. What're you cooking?" As she rounded the corner of the island to have a nosy, he pulled her in for a sideways hug. Relishing in the feeling of being close to him, she hummed softly as he pressed a kiss to her hair.

“Happy birthday, doll. Pep told me that Tony always made pancakes on the day of; not that I've ever seen the man cook." A ghost of a smile appeared on her lips, the memory painfully bittersweet. The Winter Soldiers gesture left her heart fluttering and she made no effort to stop herself as she threw her arms around his middle.

“Thankyou, Bucky. It means more than you can know.” His surprised demeanour soon softened as he returned the embrace. Not feeling is necessary to respond with words, instead the sergeant tightened his grip on the girl, the pair enjoying the feeling of being so close.

“Smells like burning.” Morgan’s nose wrinkled as she inhaled deeply, her nonchalant comment sending the soldier into a panic.

“Your big sister distracted me!” Caroline rolled her eyes fondly but took her seat next to Morgan all the same, the moment being well and truly over. Bucky plated up two portions of pancakes, toppings already set out before their arrival.

“Here you go! I’ve gotta run some errands with Sam, but I’ll catch you in a bit, yeah?” Sending a warm smile in the girls’ direction, he hurried out of the room. The sinking feeling of disappointment hit Caroline only briefly before her sister turned to face her.

"Are you and Uncle Bucky gonna get married?” taking the scientist entirely by surprise, Caroline struggled as a mouth full of pancake lodged itself in her throat awkwardly. After composing herself, she turned to meet her sisters’ eye.

“Where on earth did that come from?” The look on the youngest Stark’s face was one of complete innocence, as if she’d asked about the weather and not her sisters relationship status.

“You and Uncle Buck. You hug a lot and he makes your face red.” Pressing her hands to her cheeks, the doctor felt them grow warm as Morgan spoke. "Like that!” Shoving more food in her mouth, she tried to steady her heartbeat.

“If you must know, your uncle has made it quite clear that we are only friends. Now finish your food.” Throwing a piece of fruit at the small girl, she made it as obvious as she could that the topic was closed, despite the smile on Morgan’s face.

“FRIDAY, where’s momma?” The Stark girls had spent all morning in each other’s company, wandering the compound and causing chaos, but they found that they were alone; with the exception of agents and officials they didn’t really know. Being a Stark had its benefits; Caroline had free reign of the compound, and the pair found that those that did catch them doing something they shouldn't were far more lenient upon realising who they were.

“She’s not here, Miss Morgan. Mrs Potts-Stark had to run a few errands. She’ll be home by 4.” A frown etched itself on to Caroline’s face, disappointed by her mother’s disappearance.

“Who is home then?” The AI created by Tony was all but a mind reader. It didn't matter how vaguely she was addressed, she always seemed to know what the team needed. Knowing that 'who' meant the team specifically, and ‘home’ meant their private living quarters, the AI responded immediately.

“Nobody, I’m afraid. It seems everybody is taking advantage of the peacetime, Miss Stark.”

Turning away from her sister with a huff, tears pricked at her eyes and that all too familiar lump formed in her throat. Yes, she’d requested her birthday remain a small, private affair, low key and homely. She hadn’t however, realised that this meant she’d be completely forgotten about. The sour taste in her mouth that appeared when she thought about this god-awful day was borne of confusion and grief and uncertainty. The last thing she wanted was to be completely alone.

As if sensing the shift in the room, Morgan took a gentle hold of Caroline hand, and began her trip across the green that separated the living quarters from her lab and workshop. The youngest Stark had access to the lab providing she was with an authorised adult; the measure had been taken after small hands had caused a rather large explosion when unsupervised - nobody was hurt, luckily.

Upon arriving in the lab, it took less than two seconds for Morgan to request her usual. “Do the suit.” Her statement offered no room for questioning, so Caroline planted her feet firmly on the pads in the corner of the room. Morgan watched with glee as the nanotech supersuit quickly covered every inch of Caroline’s body, travelling from the ground upwards. Inspired heavily by the Iron Man suit, she had used her fathers nanotech mark to create a stealth suit of her own. It lacked rocket launchers and the ability to fly, and she had changed the colour scheme somewhat; charcoal black with the iconic red of her father’s suit highlighting detail.

The changes were made to prove to everybody - the public, the team, herself – that she is not taking his place; there would only ever be one Iron Man.

"You look like Daddy!” Awe poured out of her eyes, as if the sight before her was the most magical she'd ever seen. The comment hit Caroline straight in the heart, pride and love shining in her eyes.

The two played and tinkered for hours, loneliness only creeping back in that evening as the sun began to disappear. Morgan appeared restless, sighing and studying the clock on the wall with resolve, despite her inability to correctly tell the time.

“Miss Morgan, the little hand just hit 4.” Jumping to her feet, the smallest brunette yanked the goggles from her eyes, tossing them to the ground.

“We gotta go, Care!” Furrowed brows and delayed reactions caused Morgan to huff loudly. “I want juice pops, we gotta go!" Taking a stance behind her sister, Morgan began to push her sister with as much strength as she could muster.

“Okay, okay! I’m going! Stop pushing!” Failing to scold the child as she’d already raced off ahead of her, Caroline sighed, but picked up her pace all the same. Hearing the automatic doors open, Caroline ran faster, wanting to stop her sister from running off without her.

“Morgan! You can't just run off like that!" The two girls stood just outside the building, on the edge of the green. Only interested in her sister’s safety, Caroline hadn't yet taken in the change of scenery. "I was scared-" her words died on her tongue as she looked out around them.

The large expanse of grass had been transformed into what appeared to be a fairground. Fairy lights lit up the surrounding area, revealing a ferris wheel, and merry-go-round, and several other rides that sparked a heavy feeling of nostalgia in her heart. A popcorn machine and a hot dog stand and a fire pit with huge cushions and blankets surrounding it.

“What is this? Mo?” Her voice a breathless whisper as she spoke, tears pricking her eyes once again.

“It’s your birthday, baby.” A voice startled her, she spun around to find her mother and the rest of the team waiting. Her family.

“I KNEW ALL ABOUT IT.” Morgan made sure everybody knew about her part in the plan, the most important, she announced.

“Sorry for leaving you all day. We received instructions for mission not-so-impossible at two am.” Clint explained their absence with a bright smile on his face.

“We weren’t about to argue with Momma Stark here” Sam added with a wink. As she took in the overwhelming scene before her, she couldn’t stop the tears rolling down her cheeks. Two pairs of arms appeared around her, giggles filled her ears.

“Come on,” Wanda whispered, Nat smiling happily next to her.

“We made you your own Coney Island. Let’s go have fun.” Holding on to her two friends for a second or two more, she nodded her head, taking their hands in hers.

After 5 hours of candy floss and helter-skelter filled fun, the night had started to settle down. The group found themselves gathered around the fire pit, sharing drinks, snacks, and stories. The ‘adults’ – Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, and May – were ready to turn in for the night, only to find that Peter, MJ, and Morgan were perched a few feet off the ground in a hammock that Peter had cleverly created for youngest Stark, who was completely enamoured by her 'big brother’ and his spider-talent.

The Avengers were scattered about the pit, little conversations of all varieties taking place. Caroline, Wanda, and Sam were discussing an upcoming mission in Bucharest; Nat and Clint were taking turns trying to get Banners other half to join the party; Bucky and Steve were studying Steve’s phone as they tried to figure out how to queue a song that they liked.

“All I’m saying is, the four of us-“

“Stop saying that! There are three of us going on this mission!”

“Redwing is as much a member of this team as you or me, Maximoff. Don’t you forget it” Sam’s sassy response sent Caroline into a fit of giggles. After a few drinks, Sam became one of the girls; his snappy comebacks, bratty attitude, and overall lack of tolerance for anybody’s shit was impossibly entertaining. It definitely helped that the rest of them had a slight buzz too - even the super soldiers, thanks to Thor’s constant supply of Asgardian strength alcohol.

The warmth of the fire and the soft glow of the fairy lights brought a feeling of contentment to Caroline’s heart as she tuned out of her conversation to look around. She truly felt as though she was at home.

The fire had started to die down. Pepper had taken Morgan to bed, and Happy had taken May and Peter back to Queens. Steve, Banner, and Rhodey had also taken their leave, bidding the group good night and wishing Caroline a last happy birthday. The others stayed out, the drinks continued to flow, and the conversation did too. Natasha sat huddled in between Stark and Maximoff, the three exchanging private giggles and whispers, a conversation the boys were not privy to. As they discussed Caroline’s most recent (god awful) date, a very wobbly Bucky Barnes appeared in front of them, hastily shoving Natasha out the way to sit next to the birthday girl.

“Hey cutie.” After she’d stopped laughing, Wanda pulled her friend up and yanked her elsewhere, giving Barnes some time with Caroline.

“Hey Buck.” Beaming up at him, her mind flew to Morgan’s earlier comments. She’d long since accepted the fact that Bucky didn’t want her, but she couldn’t help the butterflies that refused to settle in her stomach when he was near.

“Sorry for running off so quick this morning. I wanted to stay, but these heroes needed my help setting up.” Shaking her head with a giggle, she insisted that he need not apologise, the pancakes were wonderful, and she managed with Morgan.

“I hear Morgan was asking questions?” His tone was teasing but his words tore the smile right off her face.

“Oh, uh – yeah,” she cringed as she spoke “I put her right though. Don’t worry.” Refusing to make eye contact, she missed the look of disappointment that passed over his features. Rubbing his hands on his thighs, Barnes sighed.

“Really messed up there, didn’t I?” Caroline’s head snapped up, brows furrowed. Bucky caught Natasha’s eye and nodded, which she took as a signal to drag everyone inside discreetly to give the two some privacy.

“What does that mean?” The Sergeant winced at the harsh edge to her tone, Hope dwindled in her eyes, along with uncertainty and fear. He’d broken her heart before, and she was impossibly sure that he could do it again if he wanted. “Bucky?”

“I was so cruel, that day in your lab. I never even apologised.” Now it was his turn to avoid her eyes. Her heart ached as she recalled the day he spoke of. "Didn't even say sorry. Because I am, Care. I am so sorry.” It’d never really crossed her mind. After their argument, she’d avoided him for a few days, trying to give herself space to heal. Things slowly returned to normal (especially after Bucky broke things off with his girlfriend), as if there'd been an unspoken agreement to forget about the whole ordeal.

Forcing a small smile and a nod seemed to be all she could manage to do. Nothing was said for a few moments, and whilst the silence wasn’t awkward, she did want to draw out her time with Bucky. Gently leaning into him, he picked up on the hint and let his flesh arm wind over her shoulder, covering them both with a blanket as he did so. Readjusting slightly, she positioned herself so that her back was against his chest, the two sat with legs stretched out on the giant cushions.

“So then, birthday girl. Did you decide how old you are?" His voice was a whisper, lips just barely grazing the shall of her ear. Inhaling sharply, she let herself fall deeper into his embrace, his arm shifting from the girl’s shoulder to sit firmly on her waist. The feeling left her dizzy, and she fought to compose herself. Letting her head fall back onto his shoulder, she closed her eyes.

“Yes actually, I did." Pausing to think for a moment, she searched for the right words; a challenge considering the tipsy haze making words difficult to find. Bucky simply waited for her answer. Pepper had explained her feelings, and he knew not to rush her.

“I’m 21. I’ve lost so much. Thanos took so much. I don’t think I should have to lose this too.” For the first time, the Stark girl didn’t feel like crying when talking about it.

“Well in that case –“ the softest of kisses was pressed to the side of her head “happy 21st birthday, Caroline.” Pulling herself from the soldier’s grip, she turned to face him. Just before she could open her mouth to respond, a loud crash followed by an eruption of drunken giggles sounded from behind them. Letting her forehead fall sharply against Bucky’s shoulder, he just chuckled and turned around to see what the commotion was.

Sam, Wanda, Clint, and Natasha were rolling around on the floor in their laughter, right next to a fallen popcorn machine. With a fond sigh, Bucky stood up and offered his hand to Caroline, pulling her up to join their friends.

It had truly been a tremendous birthday.

TAGS: @hailqueenconquer

#marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x oc #mcu #avengers #bucky barnes angst #flluff #angst #smut #writing #fanfic #please reblog #pepper potts #peter parker x morgan stark #the caroline stark series

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a-and-mtrashpile · 6 years ago

Text

Yungblud/Dominic Harrison: Polygraph Eyes

(the gif in no way relates to the story but like, it’s fine. everything is fine.)

~Requested by @cxxl-gall~

A/N & Warnings: it’s loosely based on Polygraph Eyes and the music video so, I hope you enjoy it~~

The smile never faltered from your face, you and your friends enjoying the girls night out. You had a few drinks in your system, trying to forget the stress of work and life in general. Of course, through all the dancing you didn't notice a group of guys eyeing you down.

"We're gonna go to the bathroom, wanna come?" Your friend shouted over the music. You shook your head and told her you were gonna go sit at the bar for a bit, tired from dancing. Once you got over there, one of the guys who had been eyeing you all night decided to get up and join you.

It didn't click in your mind when he sat down and ordered a drink, trying to make small talk with you. He just seemed like a friendly guy at the bar. "So, you here with anyone?" "Yeah, my friends. How about you?"

"Nah, just wanted to get out of the house." Lie number one.

"So, what's your name?" He asked, fully turning to face you. "Y/N," you said as you held out your hand, a stupid smile on your face. "Chad," he replied, shaking your hand. "It's nice to meet you Chad." "It's nice to meet you too, Y/N."

The two of you talked for around 10 minutes before you wanted to go back to the dance floor, spotting your friends. "Wanna come dance with me?" You asked, standing up and paying for the drink you ordered. He nodded and put some money down as well, following you to the dance floor.

"How is a girl like you single?" He asked over the music, the two of you still getting to know each other as you danced. "I don't know, I guess guys just don't find me attractive. Plus, most guys I find already have someone." "What do you mean?" "Well, I would imagine you have a girlfriend. You're nice and you actually don't care to dance at a club."

"Actually, I'm pretty single. Most girl's don't find me attractive." Lie number two.

Your friends ended up leaving, but you decided to spend some more time with Chad. You were genuinely interested and wanted to get to know him.

The two of you found a table and he ordered a round of drinks, you gladly taking it. Eventually, the one round turned into two, three, and four. At this point, you couldn't walk by yourself and your mind wasn't working.

"How about I take you back to my place so I can keep an eye on you," Chad said, helping you stand up. You tried to fight him off and shake your head, but he wouldn't take no for an answer. In the back of your mind, you were screaming for a savior, someone to help you but you couldn't get the words out.

"Brov, get off of her," a voice said from behind you guys. Chad turned around, his arms still around you as you struggled to stand. "I'm just trying to get my girlfriend back to our house, chill dude," Chad said, his grip getting tighter. "No, I saw her trying to get away from you back there. Just let her go man," the mystery man said, not wanting to start a fight.

"Listen, dude. You don't know her alright. Fucking chill." "No, you listen mate. Let her fookin go before I get the fookin bouncer," as soon as those words left his lips, Chad loosened his grip and let you fall, speeding away from the two of you.

"Love, are you alright?" "Ye-yeah. I just want to go ho-home," you mumbled, rubbing your head. "Is your car nearby? Or did you take a taxi?" "Taxi," you said as the mystery man helped you up off the ground.

"My name's Dom by the way." "Y/N." Dom helped you stabilize yourself, using his free hand to order an Uber. "Thank you for helping me back there, I don't know why my brain shut down but it did," you said as he kept his arm around you.

"You're welcome. Plus, I've seen that guy try and get girls around here. It just pisses me off so much that guys like him think it's bloody okay to take advantage of girls because they want to go out and have a good time. It just makes me fookin si- why are you giggling?" Dom asked, cutting off his rant.

"Your accent gets so much thicker when you're angry, and you squeezed my side tighter and it tickled," you said, Dom turning a bright shade of pink. "Don't be embarrassed, I mean I am the one who wreaks of alcohol and I'm pretty sure my makeup is wrecked."

"You still look great, and surprisingly it's not that bad. Just really fruity," Dom chuckled at his own statement, making you laugh.

Finally, the Uber showed up and Dom helped you get in, you telling him to get in with you. "I'll pay you back for this ride and I'll pay for the ride for wherever you need to go, I just didn't want to try and get home alone." "Don't worry about it, love. You don't need to pay me," Dom said as you laid your head on his shoulder, feeling comfortable with him.

The two of you sat in silence, the only noise in the car coming from the soft-playing speakers.

About ten minutes from your house, you looked over at Dom as he watched out the window. "Thank you for saving me back there," you whispered, hoping he heard. At this point, you were starting to sober up and you knew you were going to have a major hangover tomorrow.

"You're welcome love." "I have an idea, how about you give me your number so I can make this up to you," you said, already fishing your phone out of your pocket. Dom chuckled and took it from you, typing in his number before taking a picture of himself to set as his picture.

You laughed when you looked at it, the double chin and cross-eyed look somehow working on him. You also noticed he had sent a message to himself, making sure he had your number.

Finally, you got back to your house, the Uber waiting outside to take Dom to his hotel. He walked up to the door, wanting to make sure you made it in safely. "Thank you again, it really means a lot." "You're welcome, now go get some sleep. You're gonna need it," you laughed as the two of you said goodbye.

By the time you made it to your bed, you didn't have the energy to change or take off your makeup before passing out.

The next morning, you woke up to a pounding headache and an unread text.

"Mornin love, wanna go get some breakfast to cure your hangover? your new favorite British boy, Dom"

#admin m #yungblud #yungblud imagine #dominic harrison #dominic harrison imagine #adam warrington #michael rennie #blackheartsclub #imagines

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chyrstis · 5 years ago

Text

Rest (and try to relax a little)

Adelaide is a challenge to write, but absolutely priceless to run around with in-game. Between her comments and Sharky’s I’m dying about 70-80% of the time, and wanted to write something light before finally reaching Jacob’s region.

Rating: T Word Count: 3.6K

Link to AO3!

___

Adelaide is not what the Deputy is expecting, not at all. And with the Whitetail Mountains within reach, she decides it’s better to kick back and rest for once.

She just doesn’t realize how much she’s going to need it.

______________

When Sharky mentioned having an Aunt Addie, Hana had to admit that she had a picture in her mind of your stereotypical TV or movie aunt. Liked wine, tried to get real with the kids while remaining cool as hell, and loved their fair share of gossip. This was the case for most of her friends, at least from what they’d tell her.

Her only aunt had been none of those things, engaging little with her until her mother had died, and only through support checks in the mail. So, when stories came up, she went with the movies instead. Built her up that way. It was a sillier, kinder picture, and one that stuck.

So, she went into this building up just what she thought an Aunty Addie could shape up to me, not expecting much different from that.

But then she met Adelaide, and while a few of those boxes did seem like the kind she’d tick, she blew most of the others out of the water when she grabbed an extra rifle and threatened to rip every last dick off of the Peggies left on her property.

It was a stance that was pretty tough to argue against, and once they cleared them out, Adelaide told them both that she would gladly put extra foot to ass for any other task that they needed her for.

That is, until she brought up Tulip.

Tulip, as it happened, was her helicopter. Her missing helicopter. Hana tried not to break out in a sweat as Adelaide covered the basics of what had happened, how she was precious, and how she wanted her back in one solid, functional piece.

The key words being one, solid, and functional. The odds were not looking good.

Prayer was not her thing. Not even remotely, but she did make a few pleas for mercy as she and Sharky proceeded to shoot down two helicopters in the pursuit of the third. And when she climbed into Adelaide’s pride and joy and stared at the controls, she muttered every reassurance in the book before taking to the air.

The true test came when they were coming in for a landing.

The last chopper she landed she broke the landing gear of. Somehow found a way to bust it while landing it outside of the jail with minimal effort.

The thumbs up Sharky gave her on the descent almost felt like a cruel joke, but she held her breath as they touched down. Squeezed her eyes shut when she really shouldn’t have.

But no alarms went off, Sharky didn’t start yelling for them to bail, and when she opened an eye to check, saw in the distance only the pleased face of one Adelaide Drubman.

The older woman rushed up to meet them, her style cues making Hana think of a saucier Rosie the Riveter, and loved her for it.

“My Tulip! Oh, my beautiful girl, tell me they didn’t hurt you.”

She rested her hands against the helicopter’s frame as the two hopped out, still cooing over it, and Hana tried not to sweat it out at the fact that she could’ve easily pitched the poor vehicle into the side of a mountain. Or could’ve flown in scratched to hell and smoking. Either would’ve been a recipe for hurt feelings all around.

Eventually Adelaide did step back, sighing happily as she took her in recovered ride. “I can’t thank you enough for doing this, and I hope you gave every last one of those goddamn Peggies hell.”

“Fo sho. We lit them up!”

Hana returned the fist-bump Sharky gave her, and found herself grinning like he was. “That, I can totally confirm, and then some.”

“Good. It’s less than what they deserve after royally fucking us after we played nice for the last few years, but it’ll do.” Adelaide set her hands on her hips, and sighed. “It’ll have to.”

The Marina had been shot to hell and back, though most of the buildings had held up to their assault, even with the smoking gunboat left burning by the pier.

“Holy hell. Good thing I was planning on remodeling the place, but…not this early. And not like this.”

She started dragging one of the pallets towards the garage, and Hana tailed Sharky as they ran over to help. Between the three of them, plus Xander and the others Adelaide had working on the marina, they were able to put most of the fires out, and set up watch rotations just in case any retaliation was incoming.

The Drubman Marina was right on the edge of Silver Lake, the largest body of water in the area. If you wanted to take advantage of that, you could use that docking point to transport goods, people, and bliss to any of the Heralds’ chosen territories, and when Faith felt that loss, Adelaide was going to pay for it.

Hell, maybe she could make a call over to the Jail to see if the Sheriff could get a group of people up here. A proper squad for rotations with more firepower to back this up.

She’d still have to get Adelaide’s okay first, but the extra guns wouldn’t hurt, and if the Resistance could get a patrol going here or nearby, the added pushback could be the start to taking the Henbane back. It was an option, and one they badly needed.

“Where are you two headed now?” Adelaide asked, adjusting the dark pink bandana she’d tied around her hair. It’d been rough going earlier, but the older woman hardly showed it. “I wasn’t expecting a visit to begin with, and didn’t think this was going to turn into some kind of a whirlwind two-week holiday. I mean, I’ve got the supplies for it, but…”

“Up north to grab Hurkie.” Sharky jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, aiming towards the mountains in the distance. “Dep here wants to do something pretty damn great, and she wants us along for the ride.”

“Hurk? She wants you two teaming up?” She turned to Hana. “Honey, you do know what these boys are known for, right?”

Hana gave a small shrug, hooking her fingers in her beltloops. “I may have heard a few stories here and there.”

“I’m tempted to ask which, considering you still showed up here with my nephew in tow.”

“Mostly the Testy Festy, and I still can’t believe that’s an actual thing here, but that’s beside the point. I do need their expertise. Not to light giant flaming dicks in fields, per se, but they know their way around explosives, and we do need to light a pretty huge target up.”

“So, spill it. What’s getting blasted, and not in the fun, alcohol-fueled way?”

“Broseph.” Adelaide gave Sharky a look, and he spoke up to clarify. “Stone cold statue Broseph though. Cause if we had a shot at the real him, not gonna lie, I’d go for it. Use the same kind of stuff too.”

Adelaide started to chuckle, looking between the two, and shook her head. “Fucking directly with the Father himself. That sounds almost too good to be true. I thought you were thinking of weeding a few of those goals out, though?”

“Uh, yeah, Aunty Addie, I’ve been doing some more thinking about that.” Sharky made a face, but straightened his posture. “Now, stuff’s still tangled, and I know you said to get on being more proactive in how I want things to go in my life. Planning, short-term, and some long. Mostly short, but a goal’s a goal, man. And not all of them to do with blowing shit up, believe it or not.”

The smile Adelaide gave him, while genuine, had a wry tilt to it. “That’s sounding pretty damn promising.”

“It’s still about fifty-fifty,” he said, waving his hand back and forth. “Er, sixty-forty, if you count the stuff that’ll enable more of that, and if we’re talking Peggies, you really can’t do it halfway without taking a shot at them…”

“Now, hon, you don’t want to be too much trouble.” Adelaide aimed a curious glance at Hana, but her next words were entirely meant for Sharky. “I can respect the fact that you’re trying, but the deputy here might not like being that close to a walking roman candle, let alone one always on the verge of going off.”

“I’ve seen his file,” Hana blurted out, “and he’s already saved my ass a bunch, so it’s all water under the bridge, really.”

Both of Adelaide’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, hell’s bells!” she exclaimed with a laugh. “That’s something I never thought I’d hear from one of Earl’s. Water under the bridge? I’ll have to mention that to him the next time I see him.”

Because you totally have the power of handwavium, Han. That’s just what he hired you for.

“Now, the Sheriff, he did give me some authority, but that’s not…I’m not here to-“ She stopped when she noticed both Adelaide’s amusement and Sharky’s hopeful glance, and groaned. “Shit.”

“I’m just teasing. You keep doing you, and long as you’re helping us, Earl’ll keep on loving the hell you’re raising. Mostly,” Adelaide conceded. “If he complains at you too much, though, just send him my way and I’ll set him straight.”

She had been staring at her feet as her face burned, but when Adelaide gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, Hana gave her a small smile.

“Now, I meant it earlier. Rest up and get your energy back, because you’re looking more than a little peaked, hon. Like you’ve been running nonstop for three days straight. Tomorrow’s another day. You two can head out then, and hopefully those mountains’ll still be standing. But I can’t say the same for the dickless wonder waiting up north,” she spat. “You see any sign of my ex-husband looking for Hurk, just dodge him. He’ll try to rope you into his run for Senate, and won’t take no for an answer.”

Noted. Double-noted, at that.

Hana looked down at herself, seeing the rumpled mess she’d been rolling around in, and was glad she didn’t have a mirror. “I look that good, huh?”

“You do, and I’m not buttering you up for nothing, but a shower always works wonders, so you let me know if and when you might want to borrow it. Though you might want to wait until…” She raised her eyes to the sky as she thought it over. “Oh, one to two hours from now before heading over. All of this adrenaline’s going to need a wonderful, limber outlet, and lucky for me I have one.”

Adelaide gave her a wink before walking away, her hips swaying all the while as she approached her house. Xander followed soon after once he caught both her direction – and the motion she used to beckon him to follow her - leaving both Hana and Sharky staring after them.

“Wow,” she said, trying to hide a grin. “I was not prepared.”

Sharky cleared his throat, the sound a little strangled. “Yeah. She’s the kind of person that inspires poetry and shit. Lots of it.”

“Poetry, eh? I can see that. Well, what do you say we take her advice and actually stop for a bit after we move the last of this shit back?” She tapped a nearby crate with the heel of her boot. “Though if I stop, there’s a good chance I’m just going to keel over where I’m standing, leaving me with my ass up in the air. Promise to drag me over to a less embarrassing spot if I do?”

“Drag, carry, either way the offer’s still open,” he said, helping her to lift the crate up to take to the garage. “Just gotta warn me first.”

“I did. And consider the offer open on both ends.”

That got a laugh. “Seriously, Dep?”

“I will drag your ass wherever, whenever, if it needs dragging. Don’t laugh, but there was a small period of time when I was thinking about being a firefighter too, and did the test, so…I could lug you around,” she said, giving him a playful grin. “Or just sweep you right off of your feet. I’d be gentle, promise.”

The crate slipped, both of them swearing heavily as she was left to juggle it while Sharky grabbed for it, and it fell right on the toe of Hana’s right boot. She shot right back, holding her foot up as she clenched her arms in front of her, and if she did let out an embarrassing sound, she wasn’t about to admit to it.

“Aw, oh fuck!” Sharky’s hands flew up, reaching for her. “Sorry Dep, I just-“

Hana held up a finger, her lips pinched shut as she hopped in place.

“But-“

“Nope,” she choked out, her foot now moving to the throbbing stage. “Just, give me a sec. I’ll just…walk over there, sit down, and we won’t talk about this.”

“You sure you don’t..?”

“No go, bud,” she said, grimacing. “Just let it go.”

His face fell as she limped away, and she tried not to think about the kick to the feelings that was as well.

Finding a spot in the back, she sat herself down onto a pallet by a set of stacked crates, and closed her eyes as she rested her back against one of them. She flexed her foot, testing it as she propped it up, and was glad that nothing felt broken. It was going to smart for a while, but she could deal with it.

If only she could just kick back for a few. And just…

Something touched her shoulder, giving her a gentle nudge. “Psst.”

“Hmm.”

It nudged her again, and this time she heard a voice. “Hey, chica? You still out?”

“Not out if I’m talking,” she grumbled. “Or actually understanding most of what you’re saying, Shark.”

She shifted, her hands reaching down to adjust how she was sitting only to feel something soft covering her legs. She opened her eyes, taking in the flowery throw covering her, and looked up at Sharky. He had two beers with him. One that he was currently taking a long drink from, and the other he held out when he noticed her eying it.

“God, what time is it?” Everything was dark, short of the fluorescent lights still on in the garage.

“Moon’s up, sun’s down, and we’re all still sober, so there’s plenty of night left to go.”

Hana’s whole body ached when she shifted, moving to get up. The place and the position she’d picked hadn’t done her any favors, but her foot wasn’t hurting, and the spotty sleep did leave her feeling more alert. She was also starting to eyeball the beer dangling from Sharky’s hand. Judging by the way he was waving it in front of her, she wasn’t being subtle about it either.

She took the beer, but didn’t open it. “You should’ve woken me up, man. I wanted to help clear more junk out, get in that shower, or do watch. Whichever.”

“Nah, you wanted to be left alone, and I didn’t wanna wake you up for nothing.” He shrugged and took another drink. “Beer-thirty, though? That’s something.”

“Hey, now. If you’re waking me up to get stuff done and then give me this,” she joked half-heartedly, “I don’t know how good of a help I’ll be mildly soused.”

“You can shoot a Peggie buzzed. I’ve shot a dozen while skating down one shithouse high after torching a bunch of their flowers. It was kinda cool, kinda weird watching three versions of myself kick ass like a movie within a movie, but semi-recommended, cause while there’s a chance it’ll kill you, you really can’t beat that shit.”

“So, I should be cool then?”

“Real fucking frosty.” His eyes lingered on her, before dropping down to her hands. “Uh, so you want help with that?”

Sharky pointed at her beer, the one she’d all but neglected.

“Sure,” she said, handing it over. He popped it open in record time, and Hana made sure to give him a small toast once he handed it back. “Cheers, and here’s to one hell of a long-ass day. Let it finally end.”

He snapped his fingers mid-drink, and swallowed the rest of the beer down with a cough. “Shit, almost forgot. Aunt Addie’s got food indoors, and I wanted to tell you about it before it disappears. She told me not to eat all of the chicken, but it’s been a while since I’ve had food that hasn’t come out of a wrapper or been three days past, and…you might wanna grab it while you can cause leftovers ain’t happening.”

Her stomach reacted accordingly, reminding her that like most people, she needed something solid to run on. Not just coffee, the occasional cigarette, and adrenaline spikes.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” she said, pushing off to sprint towards the main house.

Sharky ran off with her, sticking close even with her head-start. She barely managed to beat him through the door to Adelaide’s, slipping through the doorway only to crash into Xander once inside.

He did beat her to the punch on the last drumstick, however. And seeing as that was a solid trade for what went down earlier, she didn’t complain about it one bit.

---

“Reports are stating that due to drought-like conditions hitting the eastern side of the state, farmers are yielding a third less of their wheat crop, leading to concerns about making ends meet. Costs to improve these conditions through increased irrigation may be too high for them to afford-“

Hana fiddled with the radio in her lap, counting to five before switching it to the other channel.

The music that drifted through was somber and without words, and she could only stand to listen to it for close to a minute before switching back.

“Hospitals are unable to meet the needs of patients, having to turn them away due to being understaffed-“

“Jesus.” She sighed, and set the radio down.

Sitting outside alone on the docks, she’d been unable to sleep after all, opting for watch instead. It’d been quiet – too quiet, and she’d tried not to feel guilty about it – and found herself looking for a distraction before long. Something other than staring down at the dark water below, any skipped stones she’d chucked sinking after two hops.

It was easier to keep her mind blank that way, but it drifted like it always did. Started asking questions about tomorrow that she still didn’t know the answers to, and wasn’t sure she wanted asked to begin with. The news only fed on that, reminding her that outside of this place the world was still running. Still struggling, and though there was a chance they could all manage to save this, it was a drop in the bucket to the rest of the world.

But this was her world now. Had been the moment she took the job. It needed her to pull through this. To care. To keep on pushing, like the others were.

But damn, if the bruises and aches weren’t adding up. She’d scored plenty of new ones after picking up Sharky at the trailer park, joining the others dotting her upper arms. They hadn’t even fully faded yet, and earlier she’d taken the time to count each and every one while staring into the mirror in Adelaide’s bathroom.

Eight. Nine, if she counted the odd mark on her lower back. That was a new record, not that her old one had been hard to break.

She rubbed the back of her neck, idly trying to ease more of the tension out that had settled there, and eventually gave up. Rest really was a luxury, and yet here she was. Taking five on the cusp of heading north straight towards another Seed.

Jacob she could only recall from what she’d read in Dutch’s bunker, and the little she’d seen of him that night at the compound. The blurred photograph and the short breakdown covered only the basics, much like with John and Faith.

He was the one that armed and trained the soldiers of Eden’s Gate, pushed people to turn on each other on a dime, and up in the Whitetail Mountains there were an infinite number of trails to use. Places to hide, and wait, and bide your time if he happened to be the patient kind.

What would he do once she managed to piss him off?

She was going to find out either way, but the uncertainty chafed. Made her hair want to stand on end. It hadn’t taken much effort to get John to step in. Faith had taken a more subtle route, though maybe that had just been the bliss talking. Not her, just a projection that the drug had fed her.

She’d call Dutch in the morning. He always had an ear to the ground, and had to have heard more. Maybe even heard something from up north that she wasn’t privy to yet. What would it hurt?

The rest was up to her. Well, Sharky and her…and Hurk, once they managed to get to him. It was going to turn into a proper party after that, and Jacob would surely come calling then.

The news ended after two more reports, switching to a tune that felt better suited to an old black and white romance flick. One where the two leads were so swept up in each other that little else mattered. It was fun to think about for a few seconds as she listened, trying to picture it.

Hana chucked one last rock far out across the water, watching as it skipped across the surface once, before disappearing.

And as the song went on, she couldn’t help humming along to it.

And I do, and I do.

There is no one else, only you.

Only you, bring me joy, my sweet lover boy.

#far cry 5 #far cry #deputy hana #sharky boshaw #adelaide drubman #fanfiction #this one's actually shorter for once #but I can already tell the next is going to be a doozy #fic series: you'll be okay I promise #FC5 fanfiction

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witchqueenofthemoon · 6 years ago

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BODY AND SOUL Part 15 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: You guessed it, this part took forever and I had to push the second half of Kenzie meeting Annette into the next part because it just turned out really long etc etc!!! There’s an easter egg implication that the weird weed Claire got in Colorado (from a witch but she didn’t know that) can help you remember bits of your past/parallel lives. I’m going to keep making allusions to Kenzie’s ultimate consciousness as a divine being; in the AHS universe she’s a Supreme, in this universe she’s got a low-key version of that energy, a very strong aura, let’s say, one that can encourage the people around her to be better and inspire devotion in them towards her; if Duncan is her Prince, Claire, Samuel and Harris are her Knights of the Round Table. I really wanted to include a scene at some point where Kenzie gets drunk and Duncan takes care of her because relationships in reality are a lot of forgiving each other for gross stuff and taking care of each other in various states of grossness, so I’m glad I could put it in here and I love how it turned out. Duncan getting her a tee shirt from MARIE LAVEAU’S HOUSE OF VOODOO is an obvious nod to Marie/Angela, but also a hint that Duncan and Kenzie might end up in NoLa one of these days. Here’s his Givenchy face cleanser. This is the dress Kenzie wears during the day in this part. Marissa Montague is, you guessed it, a Madison Montgomery/Emma AU, and she will show up again for sure. Erik, Annette’s stylist, is a Dennis O’Hare AU; he’s sort of based loosely on Liz Taylor from HOTEL, but he’s not trans in my universe, he’s a queer gay man. Kenzie will get to tell you all the story of what happened to her at work more clearly in the next part. This is the dress Annette wears for the press conference, and this is the one she wears at Plume. Here’s THE KISS by Klimt, a painting I’ve thought of again and again for Duckenzie. I listened to Etta James’ Stormy Weather a lot for the latter half of this part; the weather around Duncan and Mackenzie is stormy, but they are the eye of the storm, calm and constant. Plume is real and so is the private wine room and the Jefferson looks FANCY AF and not like a place I could afford to stay at (I used this article to write about it since I’ve never actually eaten there and probably never will...apparently a “cheap” dinner there runs you like $300). So far Annette has repeatedly proven to be the most difficult character to write in this AU; this article is a good example as to why Beau Willimon created a particularly complex character with her, and my hat off to him and Diane for creating a very special kind of villain who I also don’t really think is truly evil, specifically because she is capable of love; she loves her son unconditionally, and that is her most redemptive quality, and I am definitely using that to my advantage in this fic. There’ll be sex in the next part, don’t worry! I found out the other day that The Youth of Bacchus is going up for auction at Sotheby’s in May; wish I had the $35 million to buy it, because I’ve become terribly attached to it since I gave it to Duncan in this story. I guess I’ll have to settle for a print, but I really hope it goes to someone who isn’t terrible. If y’all weren’t aware, Billie really does have a beautiful singing voice. Annette softening to Duncan and Kenzie at the end is definitely due partially to Duncan and Kenzie’s combined magicks; being together will strengthen the echoes of their magickal abilities from that other universe. If you’re reading this fic, your comments, asks and reblogs mean everything to me.

“You know what I think?” Claire voice was low, her words drawn out by the weed and good champagne, and she was collapsed onto the vintage fainting couch in the corner, pulling strands of her blonde shag through lazy fingers. She was looking over at where Duncan and Mackenzie lay on his low leather couch, the remnants of takeout scattered over the coffee table, stray chopsticks and fortune cookies and half-empty cartons; Kenzie was folded against him, sleeping silently, her breathing very small and even, her face pressed into the crook of Duncan’s neck, her forehead against his chin, her pleated skirt riding up, her bare leg visible above the knee, thrown over his thigh; her stomach and the sweetness between her legs pressed, achingly, against his hip. Duncan was staring off into space (listening to her breathing, her tiny heartbeat against my side, her softness and her, her, her) in the quiet, the record long since having stopped, the calm night floating around them in the low light. His head was swimming with the weed and alcohol; it really has been a long day. My poor Kenzie.

“What’s that?” Duncan realized Claire had said something, looking over at her in a daze.

“I think you two are sssoulmates. I really do, buddy.” Claire was drunk and stoned; her voice slurred out the word soulmate like she had a lozenge in her mouth. “I think it’s destiny.”

“I didn’t believe in that sort of thing before I met her, honestly.” Duncan felt drunk enough to say what he was thinking; to hell with it, this woman loves Kenzie utterly, she won’t mind. He spoke quietly, not wanting to wake Kenzie, his hand coming up to trail down the wave of golden hair that fell over her shoulder. “But I do now. And I think you’re right.”

“Something about you two,” Claire pointed over at them, sitting up a little, the better to throw her head into the couch pillow. “It’s real intense. Like a bright light a moth flies into. Everyone else is gonna want a piece of it. Be careful there.”

“I will, Claire.”

“I’m just so happy to see her happy like this.” Claire’s face bunched together suddenly; Duncan felt sure she was going to cry, but she seemed to hold it together, sniffing a little and breathing in harshly, bringing a finger up to dab under her eyes. “Kenzie’s my best friend.”

“I promise I will take good care of her, Claire. I give you my word.”

Claire nodded at him; he could see her lip trembling for awhile, then she sat up, pulling her purse, discarded at her feet earlier, onto her lap, taking out a tissue and wiping her nose with it, tucking her hair behind her ears. She stepped over to where Duncan lay trapped under Kenzie’s sleeping form; she shook her head as he went to move up, “Shhhhh, no, don’t wake her,” she said, and leaned down, softly, to hug Duncan around the neck, letting go of him after a moment to stroke Kenzie’s hair. Kenzie murmured indistinctly into Duncan as Claire did this, her lips brushing into his skin, and he shivered. My angel.

“I’m gonna go home. I’ll see you both soon. Kenzie deserves this so much. She’s the most beautiful person, Duncan. The loveliest, the kindest, the bravest. You truly have everything now. Don’t take it for granted, not for a moment.”

“I won’t. I swear, I won’t.”

Claire stared at Kenzie for a moment, and Duncan could see the affection in her gaze; it stopped his heart, made his head swim. Claire would die for her. He knew it, utterly. He felt a fierce affection for Claire in that moment; felt as though they were sworn siblings or fellow crusaders in some just, divine cause. The comradery he felt defied an accurate description, but he knew that he and Claire were bosom companions now in some way; we protect her. We are her devoted ones. Us, and Madeline, and Harris, and Samuel. His head felt foggy, indistinct, faraway, part of some other time or day; “That really was some weed, Claire,” he murmured as she walked away from him, towards the front door.

“Right? The best shit. Sometimes I feel like I’m in another world when I smoke it, especially when I’m alone. Like I’m someone else for a little while. Crazy, but fucking neat. Goodnight, Duncan. Tell Kenzie I said good night, I love her, and I hope everything goes well tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Claire. Really. Thank you.”

Claire nodded a little, her eyes bright again. Then, she left, the big black door swinging shut with a barely audible snap behind her. Duncan could hear her boots retreating down the hall, then nothing.

He tried to move so Kenzie didn’t wake; tried to pick her up a little, straighten her so he could get a grip to carry her to bed, but she stirred more heavily this time, and her eyes fluttered open, still half-asleep. “Baby, what time issit…” “After 11, Kenzie. We should probably go to bed, we have another long day tomorrow.”

“Babyyy…” Kenzie lifted her face up to his, her flushed skin pressing into him, and her mouth came against his; she tasted like bittersweet champagne and weed and she smelled like roses and low sweat, and he ached at the softness of her, but he could sense how drunk and stoned she was; her hand slid down to his crotch, loosely, and her head seemed to loll on her shoulders, and he gently pulled back from her hand at his groin, placing his firm grip below her shoulder blades, holding her up.

“Baby, not tonight, okay? You’re drunk. Kenzie, come on. Kenzie, let’s go to the bathroom.”

Kenzie made a whining noise in the back of her throat, but her eyes fluttered with the residue of the sleep she’d just left and her body wanted her to return to. “I wanna fuck you, baby,” she murmured, and she pouted, and she tried to reach for his belt but her hand slipped down and he caught her before she fell, his large fingers coming up to the side of her jaw, her eyes fluttering at him again, breath shallow.

“I wanna fuck you too, baby, but not when you’re so drunk and sleepy, okay? I love you.” Duncan slid his arm down around her shoulder and the other under her knees; he lifted her up (oh my sweet Kenzie), carrying her slight weight easily, and she turned into his dark gray high-collared shirt, bending her arms into his torso, like she was a child turning into the heat of its mother, as he carried her through the door of the bedroom, towards the bathroom. Duncan set her carefully upright on the cool marble floor; the coldness of it seemed to make her more alert, her head lifting, and Kenzie’s cheeks looked very pale in this light, and her eyes opened with a snap, disoriented, as he held her under her arms.

“I think I might be sick,” she said in a tiny voice, and then Kenzie pushed his arms away with one sharp movement and ran to the toilet, jerking her little head over the bowl, knees buckling, and vomited a stream of vintage Moet and Chinese food into it. Duncan immediately rushed up behind her and gently pulled her long hair out of her eyes, grasping her in a makeshift ponytail with his fist; Kenzie moaned, then another stream of vomit came from her mouth and nose, filling the bathroom with the sharp smells of stomach acid and fizzy champagne and grease.

“Awww, baby,” Duncan murmured, rubbing her back with his other hand, carefully, steady. “Shhhh, baby…” Kenzie let out another little moan that made his heart clench; ugh, my sweet Kenzie, today was too long and too much, I shouldn’t have let her drink so much, but then he wondered if it would have been possible to stop her anyway; this was Kenzie, after all, wildly determined in whatever she did, including drinking most of the second bottle they’d opened herself. Kenzie reached up and flushed the toilet, and he noticed her little arm shaking as she did, her flesh covered in goosebumps. Duncan crouched down behind her, hand still steadily rubbing her back, hand holding her hair carefully to the side, his lips coming up between her shoulder blades, kissing the cotton fabric of her dress.

“Can you get me a tissue, baby,” Kenzie said, her face in the toilet still, and Duncan’s heart ached to hear its shakiness, the shivering edge of tears in her throat. He gently tucked her hair into the collar of her dress to keep it from falling into her eyes again and reached up to where there was always a box of tissues on a shelf built into the wall beside the mirror; his eyes fell over her Golden Pothos, now on top of the toilet tank, where it would live, and he thought of her holding it so tenderly as they went through the backyard earlier that day. Duncan leaned down tenderly and wiped at the corners of Kenzie’s mouth and around her nose with it as he thought of the plant gathered in her arms; she looked at him with an embarrassed expression, gold flecks floating around her corneas, her eyes over-bright. She looked so tiny, crouched over the toilet this way; he longed to gather her up in his arms again and cradle her against him, longed to soothe the pain and discomfort away from her.

“Duncan, I’m sorry,” and a tear fell down her cheek.

“Sorry for what, baby? It’s okay. It doesn’t matter. You think I’ve never had too much to drink?”

“This is gross, though.” Kenzie made a face, wrinkling her nose, and she leaned over the toilet again, spitting the residue of her vomit into the bowl.

Duncan laughed a little, bringing his hand down to the spot between Kenzie’s ear and jaw, using the tissue, folded over, to wipe her mouth again. I love to hold her here, he thought for the thousandth time, my hand fits here like this part of her was made for me to hold her. “Baby. I love you. That means I love the gross things, too. Are you okay? Are you gonna throw up again?”

Kenzie shook her head a little, a shiver running down her back through the tips of Duncan’s fingers. “I think I’m done. Can you get me a tee shirt to wear?” Her eyes were clearer now; less dazed with most of the alcohol out of her body, and there were lines of tiredness under her eyes. “Mmhmm,” Duncan murmured to her, his hand falling down the back of her hair. He went to the walk-in closet to the bottom drawers and pulled out another one of the old graphic tees there; this one said MARIE LAVEAU’S HOUSE OF VOODOO in melting tie-dye letters, with three skulls and a cross, sticks of incense floating on either side of them, a souvenir he’d gotten in New Orleans when he was traveling alone in his early 20’s, after he’d graduated. The road trip had been before his mother had insisted he become a more public face in the company; after his affair with Misha, before he met Evan. Kenzie and I should go somewhere together, he thought, unbuttoning his own clothing and kicking it off so he was wearing only his underwear, unbuckling his black Movado and setting it on the shelf, and soon. We can’t go on a road trip; that option is closed to us now. But we can get away from everything for a week. It would be so wonderful to sleep in with her all day. No dinners with our mothers to worry about, no paps milling around, no press conferences. We have that cabin around Oakland, next to Deep Creek. I should take her there. Maybe after the Gala. She’d love that. We’d be really alone...and I could worship her for days. Mackenzie. Kenzie. Baby. Angel.

As Duncan reentered the bathroom he saw Kenzie had pulled her dress and bra off, leaving them in a pile on the cold marble floor, and was carefully scrubbing her teeth at the sink in just her underwear (pink and made of some kind of silky fabric, and Duncan couldn’t help but look down at her round little ass for a moment with affection, think of his fingers there between her legs in the red dress), her face visibly damp from having washed it a moment before, a little color returning to her cheeks. She glanced up at him through the mirror, clearly still embarrassed. Good fucking job, Kenz, really making the place your own, puking as soon as you move in, her eyes seemed to think at him. Seemed to, or really did? Duncan pushed it away and came up behind her, his hands falling carefully on her bare shoulders, the shirt gripped in his fingers, pressed against her arm. Kenzie rinsed her toothbrush carefully, swishing water in her mouth, and spit into the sink. Then she turned to him, shivering again, and lifted her head up, expectant, in an achingly sweet gesture of trust that made his heart beat faster. Duncan bunched the shirt and pulled it over her little head, her hair sticking to her damp cheek, and Kenzie pulled her arms through the holes, once again too large for her, the long dip of her collarbone visible through the neck.

“Nice shirt, baby,” she whispered. Duncan grinned. “New Orleans is a great place, ever been there?” He reached for his own toothbrush.

“Nope.”

“We’ll go sometime. I think you’d really like it. And the food is amazing.”

Kenzie stared up at him, eyes dark green and chocolate-caramel and too bright, her cheeks still pink with embarrassment as Duncan brushed his own teeth, then reached for the bottle of Givenchy face cleanser he kept on one of the glass shelves to the side of the silver-framed mirror.

“Sorry I puked, baby.” Kenzie’s hand was at her cheek, as if to shield her face. He looked down at her, his heart full of so much terrible tenderness that it made him feel dizzy.

“Kenzie. Kenzie. I love you so much.”

“I’m scared to meet your mother tomorrow.” Kenzie bit her lip, tears threatening the corners of her eyes now. Duncan wanted to dip his face down to her and kiss them away. The thought of Annette being unkind to her filled him with hot, roiling anger. He had no idea himself of how the dinner at Plume would go tomorrow, and his thoughts flashed back to the texts his mother had sent him that day with the bluntness of a bad memory: I see what’s going on with your social media.You continue to deliberately disobey my wishes by flaunting your relationship publicly and it’s a heinous disappointment to me, Duncan. Your lack of respect for me in this matter is staggering. We’re going to have a long chat tomorrow about what is expected of you in your personal affairs going forward. The press conference is at 3 PM and you’re expected to be there. Do not bring her to it. Do not be late for dinner.

But Duncan knew one thing for absolute certain: I love this girl more than anyone I have ever loved, more than anything. And I’m going to make sure Mom understands that for real this time. I’m going to make sure she understands that Kenzie is a permanent part of my life now for as long as she’ll have me. He reached for the towel that hung on a hook beside the glass shelf, patting his face dry with it, then reached for the hand at her cheek, grasping it, pressing his large, long fingers through the empty spaces of her small slender ones.

“Kenzie. I swear. Everything is going to be fine. Let’s go to bed, okay, baby? Let me hold you.”

Kenzie nodded, sniffling (baby, don’t cry, your eyes are like stars drifting out in the universe, I love them so), and Duncan switched the bathroom light off, gently leading her to the bed, pulling her softly down to him and gathering her into his arms the way he’d longed to, her little face pressed between his ribs, her little hands under her chin.

Kenzie fell asleep almost immediately, her breath slowing to a small whisper in the darkness, but Duncan lay there awake for a long time, his hand falling down through her hair, around the curve of her ear, lost in her, thinking back on the past week, thinking back on everything that had happened, every moment that had led to now: seeing her on the balcony among the roses, his heart dumbstruck with immediate wonder and fierce, nearly painful longing (the resounding weight of the Fates settling down on me, I think; Madeline Stone’s daughter falling down from heaven into my arms, how could I be so blessed, how), kissing the stripes at her ankles, the fall of her hair that first night as they fucked, the quartz glittering at her throat, the look in her eyes in his shower the next morning, her revelation over breakfast, Samuel’s adamant words (let your heart be your guide), gazing at her over their dinner at Le Diplomate, the photos taken of them there that had ended up on the website later, his face pressed ardently into her cheek, the way she hovered over him in the bathtub, steam rising, roses all around her, bathed in golden shadows, Annette’s coldness and dismissal, the aching way Kenzie had folded into him, her face tear-stained, her cunt pressed into his mouth, filling him with her need, her body pressed against him, soft as flower petals, her dresses now hanging in his monotone closet, filling it with her essence and her color and her life, her plants on the sill in the kitchen, in their bathroom, beside the bed. He thought of the women in the line at the coffee shop, snapping pictures of them, Kenzie’s quivering but brave voice rising at them defiantly, her hand slipping a $5 bill into the barista’s tip jar, the dinner she’d cooked for him (the best food I’ve ever had because she made it for me, she made it) and the little wine-colored slip dress falling off her shoulder, the look in her eyes as he’d tied her to the bed (this bed, our bed) with his belt, needy and approving and excited and tinged with vulnerability, kindling his desire with a blunt force, the look in her eyes as she’d held the velvet ribbon sitting naked on his desk, the look in her eyes as she’d handed him the plug and told him to fuck her with it, the overwhelming sound of her voice keening into him and rushing him to orgasm as she rode him on the floor, the fall of her hair always drifting in his mind now, the shape and feel of her much smaller body pressed against him, into him, always in his mind, the lost look she’d had after all the paps were at her little apartment today, and the determined look she’d had when she came back out of the bathroom, and in that moment he knew she was going to be brave, he knew she was brave, and loved her so much in that moment he thought his heart would burst, thought of her in the red dress in his lap and his fingers at her clit, thought of her dancing tonight, her beautiful voice (she does have a beautiful voice, her voice singing out here in our home filling it with her gold and I love it so much, I love her voice so much) falling down 30 stories to drift into the night, the shadows on her skin and finally Duncan started to drift away into sleep, thinking of her voice, like a lullaby, his arms holding her close against him...so it’s hard to find someone with that kind of intensity, you touched my hand, I played it cool...and you reached out your hand for me...

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In the morning it was raining again; June 1st, and summer storms to come with it. Kenzie still had a pale pallor and Duncan had made her a green smoothie with kale with his Vitamix, one she sipped with a measured disgust in the bed, clearly trying to will herself out of her hangover. “I’ll have to figure out how to make the one with chocolate and avocado that you love,” he said, remembering her rambling about Emissary on the sidewalk that day, and Kenzie smiled at him weakly, appreciatively. “Yes, please, baby. But this is okay.” Her face clearly said otherwise, and he leaned down to kiss her softly before pulling a black mock neck shirt over his head, loving the way her expressions always gave away her mood so immediately. I don’t think she could hide any feeling she has about anything from me no matter how hard she tried, he thought, his hand coming down through the tangle of her chestnut hair. And I love her for it. Her earnestness.

Kenzie had moved slow that morning; Duncan gently pushed some vitamins (a B vitamin complex and curcumin) carefully into her hand, which she’d used the last of the smoothie to wash down, and she’d shakily showered (Duncan having finished long before) and dressed (a tulip-sleeved maxi dress with tiny red flowers and a slit up the side, a dress he loved achingly, immediately; today she put on a tiny rose-gold moon necklace, the one he remembered from the summery photo of her he’d left arrow-pierced hearts on on her Instagram), brushing her hair out with a trembling hand in the bathroom mirror as he watched her from the bedroom, glancing up from his phone, trying to be subtle, worrying over her pale face. Duncan looked down at his phone again; Samuel had texted him that he and Harris were waiting in the BMW outside, and that there were a few paps milling around outside as well; that Duncan should tell them when they were heading downstairs so Harris could escort Kenzie to the car. Paps rarely bothered Duncan at the high-rise; the Shepherds simply had too much money, Bill and Annette inclined to leverage cash for privacy, but it seemed Kenzie’s appearance in his life had emboldened some of them beyond past arrangements. Going to have to make some calls about that, he thought, pulling a hand through the side of his hair. There can’t be paps around here, Kenzie needs to feel safe here.

“Are you sure you’re okay, baby?” He asked as she emerged from the bathroom, her expression serious, a little blush on her cheeks today to hide her hangover, reaching down for her black satchel which was leaning against the nightstand on her side of the bed. He came up to her, his hand falling down her hair to her shoulder, along the side of her waist. “Should you stay home from work today? Annette wants to see us at 6, and I have this press conference I have to go to a few hours before that, but maybe you should stay here and sleep.”

“Duncan, I can’t, my article’s going live on the website today and it’s already out with the print edition. Candice is expecting me to come in today.” He watched with tenderness as she pulled his big black Brooks Brothers cardigan on over her dress; all her clothes are here now but she still chose that cardigan, he thought, and wanted to kiss her, but held back. “And I know Ben is gonna bother me about your interview again--I need your email for him, by the way, or I’ll just give you his contact, I guess. I just need to go in for a few hours. I’ll be fine. But, speaking of my article…I meant to say something before…”

Duncan looked at her quietly. Oh no...what’s the article?

Kenzie pushed a shaky hand through her hair, fingers coming down to fiddle with her necklace. “I was at that party to spy.”

Duncan pressed a hand immediately to his chin. I should have realized that. Why would Kenzie be at that party if she works for the Post unless she was covert. If I hadn’t fallen immediately for her, I would have seen that right away. But I did. I did fall for her. I’ve fallen for her completely and now she lives with me and I love her. Fuck.

“I recorded bits of conversations and used them for my article. It’s about underhanded PAC donors for Republican Congressmen. Senator Howell specifically, but a few others.”

“Fuck,” Duncan closed his eyes. “Kenzie. Fuck.” He pressed two fingers into his eyelids, down the bridge of his nose, breathing out heavily. “My mother--my Uncle is trying to get President Underwood to pass a deregulation bill--this is going to interfere--”

Duncan stopped suddenly. This is going to interfere with our objectives, was what he had been about to say. But the layers of Annette Shepherd in that statement had sent a cold chill immediately down his spine. No. I’m not going to do this. I’m not going to scold Kenzie for this. This article was her job, and she’s a journalist, and this is her work, and it must have taken her a fuckload of guts to crash that party, and she didn’t know me yet--and things have changed. The objective for me has changed.

“Baby, when I got the assignment, I didn’t know you yet--” Kenzie had started, her eyes shining, her mouth turned down sadly, but Duncan shook his head harshly and brought his thumb to Kenzie’s lips to stop her words and leaned his head down with fervid immediacy and kissed her, open-mouthed, and he felt her trembling against him soothe and soften as he tasted her, words washing out of him like a tide drifting away from shore. “It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter,” he breathed into her between their mouths, pulling away and then coming back with his hands in her hair, pulling her into him by the wool of his cardigan she wore, breathless, “we’re going to get through this and everything will be okay because you’re here with me now and I’m yours and that’s all that matters and the objective changed, fuck, it changed, to hell with all of them.”

Kenzie nodded into him; she didn’t speak, just nodded into him, her face turned up to him, her feet tip-toed to reach him, and she nodded and fell against him, her hands holding his face, her lips whispering a secret language into him that only the two of them could understand.

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Kenzie had quickly walked out of the high-rise’s entrance to the BMW, ahead of Duncan before he could stop her. Harris was closely at her side, holding a black umbrella over her head though the rain was light, scanning the perimeter of the sidewalk in front of the high-rise, his large hand pressed carefully into Kenzie’s back. Several of the paps rushed toward her, snapping their cameras, Harris getting in the way to spoil their shots; they noticed Duncan come out behind her and rushed at him next. “Duncan, Duncan, are you two living together?” The man closest to him asked, shoving a round microphone near his cheek, a cameraman with a steadicam behind him with its lens pointed at Duncan. “Are you engaged? Have you spoken with Madeline Stone? What does Annette think of all of this?”

“She thinks you should mind you own fucking business,” Duncan said, curtly, following Kenzie and Harris quickly as the two men chased behind him, still holding out the microphone and camera. “You know you’re not supposed to show up around here, Gary, and if I fucking see you again we’re yanking all of the BPF press credentials from the Gala next week. You can pass that on to Gretchen and whoever else is in league with you from the outlets.” Gary, who had patchy gray hair and beard and a pudgy face and was wearing a leather jacket on top of a polo shirt, stopped when Duncan said this, his face shocked. “Fuck off and don’t come around here again, I’m warning you, this building is off-limits, as if don’t you fucking know that already.” Duncan turned away from him and slid into the backseat of the BMW, slamming the door. Kenzie had a stony expression on her face, but grasped Duncan’s hand tightly when he reached for her, staring down at her phone as if to distract herself. Samuel pulled the BMW away from the curb, soft strains of Ella drifting to the backseat (such conflicting questions ride around in my brain / should I order cyanide or order champagne), and Duncan closed his eyes, trying to let her voice in to calm him down, gripping Kenzie’s hand perhaps too hard; she shook her wrist a little and he softened his hold on her. His blood was boiling, his mind red-hot suddenly, and he felt as though he wanted to tell Samuel to reverse the car and let him out so he could punch the BPF reporter in the jaw. Gary Spencer was known for crossing boundaries regularly; another BPF reporter named Sissy Conners was also known for her propensity to cross police lines and find back entrances, and Duncan wondered absently if it had been her who had found Kenzie trying to leave One Franklin Square through the loading dock entrance a few days ago. As if she had read his mind, Kenzie lifted her phone up to his eyes; Claire had sent her another link, this one with two videos: the first of Kenzie looking startled in the camera and Samuel barking at the cameraman to step back; Sissy’s telltale brightly colored two-piece in the corner of the shot. The second was from yesterday at Kenzie’s apartment; mostly unintelligible shouting, with Kenzie’s head pointed down and Duncan looking angry and annoyed into a camera off to the side of the video.

“Fuck, I fucking hate them,” he breathed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “They’re fucking relentless. I’m sorry, Kenzie.”

“It’s not your fault. I know I need to get used to this.”

“I just wish it wasn’t like this. I hate seeing them rush at you like that. It pisses me off and I can’t fucking think straight.”

Kenzie was staring down at her phone again, though, her thumb sliding back and forth against his palm, and smiling. “What are you smiling about,” he said, tell me, fingers hooking around the edge of the cardigan, pulling her mouth against him again. The anger was dissolving out of him now, her proximity able to calm him with a supernatural ease; her gold, seeping into me, like soothing medicine, like wildflower honey.

“Just Instagram. The comments on these photos you took of me. People are flipping out, but it’s kind of...funny. Some are nice, too.” Duncan looked down at her phone; she had brought up the picture he took of her yesterday on the way home, her eyes closed, her expression sleepy, with the sunlight falling over her cheek. Sleepy angel. It had over 275,000 likes now. Duncan pulled her phone gently out of her hand; Kenzie let him, the smile still playing around the corners of her mouth (light pink lipstain, like a little candy). He scrolled down.

She really is an angel isn’t she followed by six heart-eye emojis. Yes, she fucking is, he thought.

She doesn’t deserve you dump her

They’re getting married I’m calling it!!!

Seriously this couple is the ultimate OTP, amennnnnn

LEGENDARY MADELINE STONE HAS A LEGENDARY DAUGHTER TURNING THAT RICH BOY ASS TO JELLY I LOVE QUEENS

I give this two weeks y’all

STILL WANT YOU TO BE WITH @marissamontague I WON’T GIVE UP

A long line of crying-face emojis

She’s a gold digger

SHE’S WEARING THE NECKLACE AGAIN ASKADFLASKGHSGKHSA

She is like a little peach, I am so in love with their love

Omg I bet she’s going to the Gala with him and I will not survive those photos

A long line of yellow heart and celestial sun emojis

Kenzie looked at the comments over his shoulder as he scrolled down. “Marissa Montague, like the actress? The one who does romcoms and Lifetime movies?” Kenzie looked at him with a puzzled expression. “There are people who want you to be with her?”

Duncan blushed involuntarily, glancing at her. “Yeah. Her fans are pretty strange. They come to red carpets and try to make me sign photos of her. She and I were running in similar circles for awhile…”

Kenzie squinted at him, and her lips fell in a closed line. “Oh, really.”

“We went on a few dates. She’s...deeply superficial. She usually talked about her endorsement deals.”

Kenzie narrowed her eyes even further, half-facetiously pulling her hand out of his. “Oh. A few.”

“Baby, don’t,” Duncan reached for her and pressed his lips into her neck. Kenzie sat stiffly for a moment, then leaned into his mouth, giggling. “That tickles, I’m gonna unleash these puppies on you.” She wiggled her fingers into his throat and he jumped back, laughing. He slipped her phone back into her lap, his hand resting on her thigh. “It didn’t fucking mean anything. It was years ago. I had a lot of meaningless relationships for a long time. Now it seems like it was in another life.”

“Oh, you’re so important, so many sordid love affairs--”

“Kenzie…” Duncan pressed into her again, hand falling up her hip, biting gently down on her right ear lobe, breathing into her neck. “I love you.” She pulled his face up into hers and Duncan’s nerves simmered into low fire; “I love you too, baby,” she whispered into him. “And you’re mine, aren’t you, baby--” “Yes, yes, Kenzie, fuck yes, I’m all yours--”

The memory of Duncan’s anger became a distant pinprick of light in his mind as Kenzie’s hands fell through his hair, his lifting up to cup her breasts through the fabric of the dress, pushing the cardigan from her shoulders so he could feel the bare skin of her arms; the rain fell against the windows and he could hear his heartbeat in his ears, the blood rushing through his limbs, into his groin, as her tongue fell against his and the sweet smell of roses and vetiver filled his nose and his senses and it felt like the sun was out and warm on his skin, rain be damned.

------

The paps were out in full force again; Duncan turned to look over his shoulder as Samuel pulled up to One Franklin Square, out of Kenzie’s languid embrace (his lips had been on her neck again and she was threading her fingers through his hair), and saw them milling around towards the entrance. None of them seemed to have noticed the BMW yet, though.

“Samuel and I will be back to pick you up around 4:30 so we can go home and change for dinner, okay?” He turned back to Kenzie, whose eyes were bright, staring at him with pent desire from his kisses. Her hangover seemed to have dissipated in the car ride; maybe it was the green smoothie and the vitamins, maybe it was something else, he thought, pressing his lips against hers again, his hand falling down her golden-chestnut hair one more time. The partition floated down and Duncan willed it to go back up; not yet, he begged internally. Just a little bit longer, her hair and her body under my hands, I just want to look at her in this dress with its tiny red flowers, look at the gold moon around her throat, the curve of her collarbones, her smiling at me this way, her cheeks with that glow, her mouth swollen with my kisses. “I’ll email Ben Wilder today about the interview. And everything is gonna be fine, baby. I promise.”

“Okay.” Harris was already coming around the passenger side of Kenzie’s door, his sharp eyes scanning the doorway, counting the number of paps; he pulled the door open and said “Miss Mackenzie, time to go,” and Kenzie kissed Duncan with a small desperation again, and then she slipped away from him and he felt that ache, the one that always accompanied her leaving now, the feeling that a piece of him was ripped away and there was a hole, gaping, an open wound smarting in the air. He watched, eyes taking on that stormy shade (though he couldn’t see it himself), as Harris carefully pressed a hand into her back to shield her, and several paps noticed her coming toward the entrance now, rushing up to her. He couldn’t make out their words from the half-distance, now, but there were camera flashes and he watched a microphone come under her and she turned away from it, her golden hair bouncing behind her in the gray light (the rain had stopped a few minutes before and the ground was shiny with water, the sky still overcast), clutching the strap of her satchel closer against her, Harris coming between them, covering her with an expert precision, and he could vaguely hear more questions being shouted at her though he couldn’t make them out, and then she was inside and the paps were standing against the windows, cameras still clicking, peering after her, some of them turning around to snap photos of the BMW as Samuel hit the gas pedal and the car drifted away. Duncan continued to look back, his hand coming up to his chin, against his mouth. She’s so brave. My Kenzie. She’s so brave and so strong and she’s doing so well and I love her so much, I love how brave she is, how fearless, the proud look that comes into her eyes, the way she lifts her chin and pushes forward. Mom is going to pitch a fit to me about that article, but that was so brave of her, she could have gotten into so much hot water there if she got caught, my girlfriend is a stone cold badass and I’m not sure I’m good enough for her.

As if on cue, Duncan’s phone chimed out a text. Mom.

That article is in DIRECT opposition to our objectives. Did you know she was writing that?

No, Duncan replied, curtly. I did not know until this morning when she told me it was being published today. She got the assignment before we met.

Mom: We will talk about this when you get here. Nothing else.

“How are you these days, Mr. Shepherd?” Samuel’s voice floated back to him, soothing, soft, the music turned low.

“Wildly in love, thanks, Samuel,” Duncan smiled at him with a burst of genuine feeling. “But Kenzie’s meeting Annette tonight and I’m....concerned. About how she’ll be treated. And my temper. Which I’ve already lost once today.”

“Your love for each other will overcome any obstacle. If you will it, it will become reality. It will soften the heart of even Annette Shepherd when she sees it, who also loves you very much, of that I am certain.”

“Thank you, Samuel. Can we stop at English Rose Garden before we get to Shepherd Hall, please? I want to get something for Kenzie.”

“Certainly, Mr. Shepherd.”

--------

There was a bouquet of a dozen dark red roses wrapped carefully in black tissue paper beside Duncan in the backseat of the BMW when they pulled up to Shepherd Hall; the inner lining of the tissue had a layer of very thin plastic wrap and several wet cloths around the bottom of the stems to keep them from wilting. Duncan grasped them carefully where the stems gathered, stepping out of the car and passing them carefully to Samuel in the front seat, the better to keep an eye on them; Duncan imagined coming into Shepherd Hall with a bouquet of roses that wasn’t for his mother and the cold look of disbelief in her eyes. Shouldn’t press my luck today, things are going to be bad enough already. He nodded to Samuel gratefully and straightened, looking towards the entrance; there was plenty of press milling around it, but most of them were clearly associated press with clearly labeled passes around their necks, going in and out of Shepherd Hall, waiting for the press conference to start. Duncan wondered absently why his mother had demanded he be there at all, it was, after all, just a dedication for the new Dance Center; just to exert her will over me, I think, show her she can still make me do what she wants and to get back at me for posting photos of Kenzie. Get used to it, Mom. There’s lots more to come.

...So much for not pressing my luck, he scolded himself.

He adjusted the collar and cuffs of his mock neck shirt, discarding the light jacket he wore, opening the door to the backseat of the BMW again and tossing it onto the leather upholstery; the day was still overcast, but the rain was forecast to be over for now and the air was muggy, misty with hanging moisture and an early-summer breeze. Duncan appreciated the coolness of the breeze through his hair; his skin had started to prickle with an odd sense of foreboding, no doubt kindled by his apprehension at seeing his mother. I wish Kenzie were here now, he thought. I want everyone at this press conference to know who I’m with now, and I want them to know that nothing my mother or my uncle say or do will take her away from me. Duncan was aware Bill had a round of chemo scheduled for today; he didn’t leave the house much anymore regardless, and Duncan only tended to see him when he went there to report about an episode or the app or some other kind of feedback on the enterprises of Shepherd Unlimited. Good thing, too, because if my mother disapproves of Kenzie, Bill probably wants to hire a hitman to take her out by now. Duncan shivered at the thought; not a unlikely as one might hope. Bill almost never communicated with him directly; his uncle used Annette as a mediator between the two of them, having never particularly warmed to Duncan, it seemed, for one reason or another. It was also the reason, Duncan suspected, that Annette was going to push to have Bill sign his Will over to Duncan only when he was too sick, too far gone, to protest. The truth of that gave Duncan an nauseous feeling whenever he contemplated it, but Bill Shepherd was not a particularly nice man, and Duncan didn’t feel as bad about all of it as he might have with someone who hadn’t treated him like he was a nuisance for most of his life. His mother loved him; Bill Shepherd barely tolerated him.

Duncan stepped towards the glass doors of Shepherd Hall; several members of the press milling around that area turned towards him with recognition. Duncan pretended to stare down at his phone; he saw Gretchen Friedrichs approaching him out of the corner of his eye in a tulip-yellow sheath dress, a black-and-white striped blazer and very pointy black Louboutins, their red undersides stark in the gray daylight, her long platinum hair bouncing against her back, her smile too big and too white, a press pass swinging around her neck. Stay calm, Duncan demanded to himself. You already snapped on Gary Spencer, don’t let Gretchen get to you too.

“Duncannnnn,” she purred, and Duncan winced, his eyes narrowing just slightly, his eyes sliding over to her. “My, my, haven’t we been the busy boy.”

“Gretchen,” he said through clenched teeth, walking fast. “I think I recall telling you I wouldn’t be doing anymore interviews for Patriot Watch. Funny, I ran into Gary Spencer morning, as they say, outside of my residence, an area that’s off-limits to all of you, which I’m quite sure he was already aware of...you, of course, wouldn’t know anything about that, I’m sure.”

“What would Gary being doing at your building?” Gretchen said in an obnoxiously high octave, faux-appalled. “He really should know better, shouldn’t he?”

Duncan went up to the door, waving a little at the press members he recognized but ignoring their requests for comments; he went to move inside but Gretchen slipped in ahead of him, “Oh, thanks, Duncan, what a gentleman!” she murmured, flashing her teeth at him again; like a giant cat about to rip a warm animal apart, he thought. He tried to move past her in the carpeted, quiet interior of the foyer; he knew the press conference was in the 120-capacity room downstairs across from the newly minted Shepherd Memorial Theater, which would feature much of the Dance School’s performances, but Gretchen continued to trot beside him in her Louboutins, somehow able to keep pace with him despite his long stride.

“So that article from little Miss Stone in the Post this morning is really something, Duncan,” she said as she trotted along beside him, and he glared at her. Duncan, keep your fucking temper, don’t do it, don’t let her get to you. “Care to comment? Anything to say? Did you know she was going to write such an incendiary indictment of the financial spheres of political process?”

He was silent; she’d tried to bait him with that last bit, and he’d almost replied, but Duncan bit into the side of his cheek to stop himself. Duncan kept his long stride up and Gretchen was falling behind. She barked at him again.

“Isn’t it going to interfere with the Shepherd-funded Future Act?”

“Gretchen, I’m going to say this as kindly and as clearly as I possibly can: Fuck. Off. Right. Now.”

“Or what, Mr. Shepherd?” Gretchen stared at him, her eyes flashing. She stopped her trotting, and Duncan continued away from her, not turning.

“Or I’m going to get her to write something about you.”

“Is that a threat?”

Duncan said nothing and continued to walk away from her, his mind seething.

“See you at the Gala, Duncan.” Duncan glanced back to see Gretchen standing there with her arms crossed, a smirk plastered to her face. “You and that sweet little piece of ass.” Duncan clenched his teeth at that, balling his hand into a fist, grasping the handle of the side-door to the conference room, yanking it open, not looking back at her again. I’ve thrown Kenzie into a pit of vipers, haven’t I. These people will try to get at her any way they can. I have to do everything in my power to be the buffer between them. God, I need to calm the fuck down. Threatening Gretchen Friedrichs is just going to make it worse.

He looked up; he saw Erik sitting nonchalantly in a styling chair in the corner, languidly scrolling through his phone, but Annette was nowhere to be seen, at least, not yet.

“Hey, Erik,” he said, trying to keep his tone even. He pushed what had just transpired with Friedrichs to the back of his mind; time to put on a face for his mother.

“Well, well, well,” Erik glanced up at him without moving his shiny, bald head. He wore a long chiffon lavender-colored scarf around his neck today and had false eyelashes on. His nails were carefully manicured. “The man whose name is on everyone’s lips. Prince Duncan. You should see how pissed off you’ve managed to make your poor mother. Come, sit over here, let’s have a look at you. Photos, you know. Not that you ever need much work, Your skin is looking absolutely radiant. All that good sex, I’m sure.”

Duncan came over to the styling chair, blushing, Erik standing and pushing Duncan down into it, hands immediately coming up to Duncan’s hair; the older man sighed, smiling down at him. “This hair. Forgive me, dear, but having none of my own, I always get a special thrill when I get to touch it.”

“Touch away, Erik. On a scale of 1 to 10, how angry is Annette right now?”

“I’d say 12 is the low estimate.” Erik pushed the pump on a bottle of product that sat on the styling table nearby, a mirror built into the wall behind it, smoothing it between his very clean fingers and pressing it languidly through Duncan’s hair. “She could be at 15, you know how she is. It’s usually hiding until someone says the wrong thing. Which is usually Bill Shepherd’s department. You’re always her golden boy, but gracious me, baby, lately, you are stirring the pot, aren’t you? Instagram, gossip sites, snapping at paparazzi, endless photos. Young love. I’ll tell you right now, I’m in your corner. She’s undoubtedly a little flower. I can’t wait to come up with some confection for her tomorrow.”

“I love her, Erik.”

“Sure you do, pumpkin. Of course.”

Duncan looked down at his phone; a text from Kenzie.

I forgot to give you Ben’s contact before, so here it is. He won’t leave me alone, please email him, thank you for doing this, I love you. Some of those paps tried to get into the building a little while ago but security escorted them back out. Harris is hanging out upstairs with me and everyone loves him! I think Ben is going to steal him. Hope everything is going okay bb. Wanted to text you before the press conference. Can’t wait for today to be over. She’d added an exasperated-face emoji and a red heart at the end. The second text as was a contact bubble: Ben Wilder.

Haven’t seen Mom yet, Duncan replied, --but have been told she’s pretty upset. I will do anything I can to calm her down before tonight. I love you so much, baby. If she says anything unkind to you, please try to let it roll off you. She won’t mean it, because she doesn’t know you yet. I’ll email Ben right now.

Duncan opened his email and addressed it to: [email protected], from: [email protected]. Attn: Ben Wilder, Features Editor, Washington Post. Hey Ben. Mackenzie mentioned that you were interested in an interview. I’m happy to sit down with you sometime next week, provided she is there as well; she can decide whether or not she wants to participate, but I want her to sit in. Tuesday works best for me, but I could make some time on Wednesday afternoon as well. Let me know. Regards, Duncan Shepherd. He hit send and lowered his phone; the door swung to, and Annette Shepherd walked into the room, trailed closely by Seth Grayson.

She turned; her eyes fell on him with a measured, gradual acrimony, her slender, beautiful face falling downwards to a regal discomfort, her perfectly waved hair around her shoulders, framing her striking beauty; he had often thought his mother grew even more beautiful as she aged. As ever, Annette was immaculately dressed; for the press conference she was wearing a Diane von Furstenberg dark cobalt silk wrap dress, with a diamond pattern print across it falling to a earthward slant, and low Stuart Weitzman sand-colored suede pumps. As usual, she had no necklace; only the round diamond studs she wore so often, and a thin band of gold around one wrist.

“Duncan,” she breathed, and Seth retreated to a corner, staring at his phone as though whatever he saw there was wildly engrossing.

“Mom.”

“Do you realize how damaging that article could be?” Annette advanced on him, her fingers coming together in front of her in a fist; Duncan stayed in the styling chair, trying not to react. “The bill likely wouldn’t go through at this juncture, regardless, but now? Claire Underwood frankly refuses to sign it, and she’s going to push Gallagher through--Bill could not persuade her to see things as Frank did, confirming our worst fears.”

“Mom.”

“How can this be happening, I keep asking myself. How can my only son, my pride, my joy, be disobeying me and disregarding me so utterly? How can he be saddling himself to the daughter of a woman who would love nothing more than to see my enterprises and my work crumble into dust? How can he?”

“Mom.”

“Let me guess. You love her.”

Duncan said nothing. He stared at his mother; her eyes were cold, shining like twin candle flames in a dark room. He remembered times when she’d been angry with him as a child again; in that gaze he felt minute and impermanent, loveless and discarded. Or he had. Now, he knew that no matter his mother’s anger, she did love him; sometimes she hoarded that love, kept it from him, but he knew it was there. And Kenzie loves me. Even if Mom didn’t love me anymore; even if she cut me off without a penny, even if she pretended she didn’t anymore. Kenzie loves me. She does. And I love her. Loving her is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me; everything we’ve done, Mom, pales dreadfully in comparison.

Erik stood to the side, observing them with his hand pressed to his face, lips pursed. Now, he interjected.

“Annette, surely you must remember what it’s like to be young.”

“Erik, with all due respect, shut the hell up.” Annette glared at him, crossing her arms.

“Whatever I say clearly won’t make you happy,” Duncan said. “But I’m humbly asking that you treat her with respect over dinner tonight, Mom. It would mean a lot to me if you could be kind to her.”

Annette scoffed. “As kind as her article was to our interests, surely. As kind as her mother has been to me on public stages, of course.”

“Since you’ve always been so kind to Madeline, fucking Medusa.”

Annette’s mouth clamped shut at that; she seethed at him, suddenly reminding him of himself a moment ago with Gretchen in the hallway. I am my mother’s son, he thought. We’re both horribly stubborn and we both have bad tempers, and we both refuse to retreat.

“I spoke to her, you know,” she spat, pacing back and forth in front of Duncan, but still staring at him. “As arrogant as ever, as presumptive; as overconfident as I remember her, insisting I can’t “interject in your affairs”--” here, Annette lifted her hands and flexed her index and middle fingers, mimicking a quotation, pausing in her pacing.

“You can’t. Not when it comes to this.”

Annette stared at him; Duncan thought her face would melt, the anger in her eyes as so immediate and intense. She said nothing; her mouth hung open a little, clearly too flabbergasted to reply.

“It’s five after 3,” Seth said, quietly but firmly. “The press conference was supposed to start five minutes ago.”

Annette looked away from Duncan; to Erik for a moment, then into space, her thoughts unreadable. “Get up, Seth.” Grayson lept up. “Duncan. You must contain her. Come.” With this statement, Annette walked across the room and yanked the opposite door open; the door that led to the conference room. Duncan followed her out, his stride pointed, determined to keep his expression neutral and his resolve stony. First, we’ll get through this. Then, we’ll get through tonight.

------

Duncan glanced impatiently at his Movado as the press conference began to wind down; it was almost 4 and he had felt his phone vibrate in his pocket about fifteen minutes ago, in the middle of a long answer from his mother about the scholarships for the Dance School the Foundation was setting up. He began to feel convinced through some unseen sixth sense that the text was from Kenzie, and that it was something important. Annette had managed to hide her annoyance from the press for the duration; it was being taped, and my mother is nothing if not professional, Duncan thought, hand coming up to his jaw to rub there, but when she looked at him over the past hour it was with a dark gaze that made the back of his neck tingle with apprehension. What are you planning, Mom.

“I have a question for Duncan,” Duncan heard someone say; it was Gretchen Friedrichs. Oh no. “Do you plan to have your girlfriend, Mackenzie Stone, on the show soon? It’s ranked second as of now in cable news, and as a journalist for The Washington Post, I think she’d bring a...unique perspective.” Gretchen smiled with all her teeth. “The two of you have been a trending topic on Twitter and Instagram for three days--”

Annette balked visibly and she feigned looking at the clock hanging in the corner of the room, “It looks like we’re out of time for more questions, what a shame,” she said to Gretchen, cutting her off, her smile overwarm. She stood and walked to where Duncan sat, pushing on the long sleeve of his shirt. Get up, Duncan, her hand said. Duncan went to obey her, then for a moment, he couldn’t fathom what to do, his legs seemingly turned to lead; Gretchen was staring at him with that grin, and his mind went hazy with anger.

“Mackenzie is busy with her own projects right now,” he said, and felt the cold pinch of Annette’s fingers digging into the skin of his upper arm. “But eventually I hope for us to work together in a professional capacity, yes.”

The room erupted in voices, other press members shouting their questions out at him across the room (“What does her editorial from this morning indicate for the goals of Shepherd Unlimited?” Will we see a partnership between the Post and Shepherd Unlimited?” “Will she be attending the Gala with you?” “What do you think of her mother’s political statements in the past?”, ‘Annette, does this mean you and Madeline Stone have reconciled?”, “Will you have Madeline Stone on the show?” “Is the implication of leftist politics an indication of the future of Shepherd Unlimited?”); Duncan could feel Annette’s fingers dig in even further, painfully, and he stood, shaking his arm out of the pincer-like grip of his mother’s hand. She stalked after him through the side-door; Seth coming through after them (“no more questions, no more questions,” Duncan heard him say, breathlessly, to the room), half-running, leaning against it with a hard snap as if there were a pack of wolves after him.

“Have you lost your mind?” Annette’s hands came up and grasped at the collar of Duncan’s shirt; Duncan gently pulled her hands away and stepped back from her; she had sputtered out the words as if they were making her sick.

“Mom. I told you. You can’t stop this.”

“Oh, I can’t? What if I pull the plug on the show?”

“You heard Gretchen; it’s got one of the highest viewer ratings on cable news. We both know you won’t do that.”

“What has gotten into you? It’s like you’re possessed,” Annette stared at him, a wild light behind her eyes again; instead of anger, though, he now saw something else there; a kind of panic, a disorientated alarm, and one more thing...a dawning recognition. “What is wrong with you?”

“I have to go pick up Kenzie now. I’ll see you in a few hours for dinner, Mom.”

With that, Duncan turned and walked away from her, not waiting for a reply, through the opposite door, down the carpeted hallway and foyer of Shepherd Hall, skirting around the press members who had begun to file out of the conference room, ignoring their shouts to him; he quickened his pace to a jog, feeling as though he were suddenly suffocating, and pressed through the entrance, running out to the BMW, yanking the back door open, sliding in and slamming it behind him. Samuel glanced back at him in concern as Duncan pulled his phone out of his pocket, breathlessly, staring down at it; a missed call and a text from Kenzie. Her text was odd, like she’d typed it all out without really reading it or pausing.

a man managed to get upstairs past security somehow and harris was in the bathroom and he grabbed me by the arm and tried to drag me into the hallway je was rambling abot Shepherd unlimited taking everything away from him so he was going to take something away from the Shepherds and i’m ok but haris did this thing to him where he hit him in the throat like it was ju jitsu or something i don’t know and the man fell on the ground unconscious the cops are her ad i had to give a statemtn but i’m okay but baby oh my god oh my god

“FUCK.” Duncan felt his anger and panic reach a crashing crescendo that fell over him in a suffocating wave; he suddenly, with a removed anguish that felt almost involuntary, punched the bulletproof, tinted glass of the window, the pain immediate and scattering along his knuckles like it had been smashed in a door, and Duncan winced, biting his lip hard, clutching his palm over the fist his hand was still stuck in. “Fuck! Fuck!”

“Mr. Shepherd, tell me where to go,” Samuel looked back at him with an alarmed expression; it was nearly impossible to break the glass of the BMW’s windows, and Duncan knew his chauffeur wasn’t worried about the car, rather the likelihood that Duncan had broken a bone in his hand. Duncan wasn’t prone to displays of physical anger; what he had just done wasn’t something Samuel had witnessed from the younger man since he was a willful teenager.

“One Franklin Square, Samuel, hurry, someone tried to hurt Kenzie,” Duncan said, and the desperation in his voice was enough to send sharp spears of icy cold fear down into his stomach. Samuel said nothing, only laid his foot flat on the gas, the BMW peeling away from the curb and accelerating rapidly, speeding towards downtown. Duncan felt wildly sick, suddenly, and he willed his stomach to settle, willed his nerves to even, feeling dizzying nausea behind his throat. Oh god, someone tried to hurt Kenzie, his hand clutched to his jaw, his eyes dazed. Oh god, someone--

“Mr. Shepherd, she is brave. I’m sure she is alright. Steel yourself to be brave for her too.”

Duncan sucked his breath in, harshly, heart slamming. “Yes. Okay. Hurry, Samuel, please, just hurry.”

He typed quickly, pressing send. Baby, I’m coming now, I’m so sorry, I was stuck in that stupid fucking press conference, I’m coming, we’ll be there in two minutes...

------

Two minutes and fifty seconds later the BMW screeched up to the curb and Duncan threw the door open, noticing there were still several paps milling around the entrance; he saw red again, felt the seething-hot urge to hit one of them. No, stop thinking about what you want, whatever you think you need. Kenzie needs you, stop being so fucking self-absorbed, he thought. Find her. That’s all that matters.

He ran past them; their shouts to him sounded like they were underwater, his ears blocked by the sound of his heart pounding, and he rushed through the doors, throwing himself at the receptionist’s desk; “Which floor is Mackenzie Stone on,” he asked breathlessly; the receptionist was a young girl with a dark, short bob haircut and navy eyeshadow; her eyes widened in recognition at him, her mouth popping open. “Duncan Shepherd,” she whispered. “Mackenzie. Stone. Which. Floor.” Duncan breathed out each word pointedly, his hand coming around the flat screen of her desktop computer and pressing his index finger at the directory searchbar. She blinked at him again, then said “10, all the resident journalists are on that floor--” and he launched himself away from the desk to where the elevators stretched a yard or so down the foyer. One of the doors slid open as he ran up; oh merciful Fates, thank you; he skirted past the surprised woman who exited, fingers slamming against the 10 button, and she peered around the corner of the elevator doors at him as they slid shut, clearly recognizing him. “Come on, come on, come on,” Duncan muttered as the elevator seemed to climb with excruciating slowness; no one else got in the elevator, though, thank you merciful and benevolent Fates thank you, and finally the doors slid open to the 10th floor.

Duncan’s eyes swung wildly back and forth and laid almost instantly against the back corner where Harris’ distinctly large form sat in an office chair, pulled up against a small desk, behind which the shivering figure of his Kenzie sat, her chestnut hair shaking in the gray day’s light; her hands were clutched around her arms and her face was tear-stained, her eyes closed, eliciting a terrible ache from the center of his body that threatened to burst his heart. He ran out of the elevator and past two women (one white, tall and thin with very long, straight hair, one black and very curvy, with a curly weave) who stared at him with shocked expressions in their eyes, down the short walkway of desks to Kenzie’s; her eyes lifted up to him and her lip trembled, tears falling immediately down her cheeks, sending daggers into his heart again; Kenzie (oh my Kenzie) stood, pushing her desk chair back and launching herself into his arms, an aching sob escaping from her lips as she pressed her face into his black shirt, and he could feel the wetness of her tears soak through to his bare skin. He pushed his face into her head, into her hair, and heard his voice whisper “Shhh, shhh baby, I’m here, I’m so sorry, I’m here now, are you okay, are you alright--” and his hand fell down, feeling her body, trying to find anything wrong, any sign of physical harm; no, she wasn’t hurt, her little body pressing into him, but she was sobbing with a terrible relief that threatened him with tears too, and Duncan bit his lip to stave his own away.

“Mr. Shepherd, I can’t say how sorry I am, I’ve failed you in my duties--” Harris looked up at them, his sepia eyes clouded.

“Harris, no, failed? No. You’re the reason Kenzie is safe. Please. Don’t. Thank you. I can’t thank you enough. Whatever we’re paying you, I’m doubling it. I’m tripling it.”

“Thank you, Harris,” Kenzie whispered, her voice still tinged with a sob and muffled against Duncan’s shirt, her arms twined around him tightly, her body shaking. “Thank you.” Harris stared at her for a moment, his expression one of anguish, of distress; then it softened, and affection seeped into his gaze, and he nodded, blinking, quiet.

“Baby, I’m so sorry, I was in that stupid conference and I couldn’t look at my phone, but I felt my phone vibrate and I had this terrible feeling, this feeling like it was you and something terrible happened, and I’m so sorry I wasn’t here--” Duncan’s mouth was pressed into the side of her hair, and he clutched her with desperate relief, speaking quietly down to her ear. Kenzie shook her head against him, the golden waves making him ache; Duncan buried his fingers in her hair, lifting her little face up to him, thumbs pressing the tears gently away, kissing her softly. “It’s not your fault, baby, I’m just so glad you’re here now, I’m so glad you’re here.” Kenzie pressed her face against him again. “They took the man away--I--I don’t know where they took him…” Duncan cradled her against him, the warm feeling of her little body filling him with terrible, overwhelming emotion; none of them said anything, and eventually Kenzie began to quiet, her sobs fading into hiccups, hiccups fading into deep breaths, and then even ones. The two women Duncan had passed looked back at them, whispering quietly to each other; Duncan tried to ignore them. Kenzie leaned back from him, wiping at her eyes with a little hand, sniffling again. “We need to go to dinner now,” she said, and Duncan tried to protest--”baby, are you okay, are you gonna be okay to do that--” and she cut him off. “I need to meet Annette. I’m not waiting anymore.”

Duncan looked at Harris for a moment; the larger man nodded slightly, his expression difficult to read, and yet Duncan felt he understood what the man was trying to say, anyway. Do what Kenzie says. She’s in charge. “Okay, Kenzie.” She pushed out of his arms and pressed the sleeves of the black cardigan against her eyes for a moment, dabbing away the residue of her tears, and shut her Macbook, which had been pushed at an odd angle to the side of her desk, sliding it into her satchel carefully. She straightened, reached for a tissue from a box beside a little rustic sun and moon statue on the desk; then, she turned to him, slung her bag over her shoulder, and said “Let’s go.” Harris stood, coming around her to her back, protectively; she threaded her fingers through Duncan’s, and pulled him toward the elevator; Duncan followed obediently, in awe of her. She is the most amazing person I have ever known.

--------

Kenzie had folded herself into Duncan in the backseat on the way back to the penthouse; her little body sighing against him in the crook under his arm, her spot, that place she was torn away from me once, back at the beginning of time, her face, red from crying, her cheeks hot against him, his hand trailing at the soft tulip sleeves over her shoulders, the warm skin of her arm and down to her elbow and back, through the strands of her hair, gentle, rhythmic. Neither of them spoke; Duncan couldn’t bring himself to ask her for more details of what had happened, loathe to bring her to tears again; somehow he knew she would tell him later, tell him everything, when they were alone and holding each other in the darkness of their bedroom, their bed, their secret place that belonged only to them. Duncan considered trying to persuade Kenzie that they should cancel dinner with his mother; but no, he knew, that can’t happen and it won’t, because we have to do this, we have to make my mother understand, Annette needs to understand that no one and nothing can tear us away from each other. Nothing and no one but death itself. It’s long past time she knows; really knows.

Duncan helped Kenzie out of the car and she was quiet now; her breathing slow and even, her eyes gazing at him with a clearer expression, some of her shock having faded; the day was still overcast and it seemed as though it might rain again, darker clouds coming in from the west. He followed her inside to the elevator; Jerry nodded to them, seeming to notice their solemn mood, and Anchaly looked up from his desk, his eyes crinkling at Kenzie’s tear-reddened cheeks. Duncan noticed he still had his copy of Tropic of Cancer, his finger pressed between the pages, near the end; “Human beings make a strange fauna and flora,” he murmured to the older man as they passed. Anchaly raised his eyebrows, and looked back to the book, clearly content in the mystery of the moment. Kenzie slipped inside the elevator and Duncan followed her carefully; she pressed into him as the doors shut, raising her lips up into his, and he held her, tenderly, his mind and heart aching at the thought that she could have been hurt today, something could have happened to her; “I’m so glad you’re okay, baby, Kenzie, I don’t know what I would have done if something happened to you,” he whispered as the elevator climbed, and he glanced to the long mirror inside, where she was now staring at the shape of them pressed together, his lips against the side of her face, and he thought of The Kiss by Klimt again, thought of its gold paint and her gold, her endless gold, bright even in her sadness and her shock, bright in spite of anything that would try to dim her. Kenzie didn’t say anything, but again he felt he could somehow feel the drift of her thoughts: I love you, Duncan, and I will be brave because I love you so much, I love you and I will be brave in the face of my fear because love is stronger and it is more and it is the only thing, I know that now, I will make Annette understand, we’ll make her understand--

Once back in the penthouse, they went quietly to the bedroom, discarding their clothing from the day carelessly; for a moment, Kenzie pressed against him again as they stood in the walk-in closet, in only her bra and underwear, Duncan in only his briefs; she sighed, and he closed his eyes, overwhelmed with the feeling of their bare skin against each other; he longed to draw her mouth into his again, longed to press his fingers down into the sweetness of her clit and soothe her with ecstasy, but he knew that when they fucked again it would need to come from her, it would have to be at her bidding, and he resolved himself to be patient; “I hate that this has been so much to bear for you--” he spoke quietly down into her ear, and she shook it against his mouth, shook her head so her lips brushed against his ribs, making him shiver; “I’d do it a thousand times more to be with you,” she murmured, and he held back the tears he felt warming his senses; his mind ached, and he felt that any words were not enough for how he felt towards her in that moment; “I love you,” he said, quiet, into her ear, and he felt her lips smile into his skin. She pulled away from him, bringing the dress they’d picked out yesterday down from the hanger where they stood in the walk-in closet; he turned, pulling on one of his dozens of pairs of tailored slacks, one of line of a two-dozen black dress shirts that hung on his side (and her side over there, her side with its softness and color and her there); “Baby, zip me up,” he heard her little voice say, and he turned to her hair pulled over her shoulder, the bare nape of her neck facing him, and he pressed his mouth into her there and felt her shiver, his hands coming down around her waist to press at her hips, and he ached for the darkness of their bed, ached for the sweet embrace of night to come. He zipped her up carefully and she turned to him, smiling despite the residue of her tears still lingering, then she went into the bathroom and Duncan buttoned his shirt, watching her back, the little sequined black dress hugging her small frame, her little face in the mirror as she pressed a small compact against her cheeks to hide the redness as he pulled on one of his velvet cocktail blazers, the smell of her drifting around him like a song. Kenzie emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, dark eyeshadow on her eyelids, dark burgundy lipstick at her mouth, the Tiffany moon around her neck again; she lifted her hands to it as she stared at him, and she said “your love, to give me strength.” She had the little black clutch in her hand, the one she had the night they met on that rosy balcony a week ago (only a week, no, it’s been a year, it’s been years, ages, and it’s been no time at all) and pointed black pumps on her small feet; they lifted her about level to his shoulder, and he was struck again by how small she was, even in heels.

Duncan nodded, too overwhelmed again to speak, reaching out for her, gathering her up in his arms. She fingered his Movado, staring down at it. “Time to go, baby,” she said, lifting her face up to him, kissing him softly. Duncan leaned into her; he thought of how he’d run away from his mother this afternoon, defiant and angry, and toward Kenzie, who could have so easily been hurt today, and he turned his face the better to kiss her, relief flooding through him again. He felt her smile into him again; heard her laugh into him, her tears now faded and her skin cool and soft, and the relief rebounded and echoed into the lining of him. Fortune is still smiling. It has protected us all this way, maybe it can even convince my mother. Maybe even that.

-----

Back in the car Duncan handed her the roses he’d bought for her earlier that day; it seemed like it had been years ago when he’d cheerfully picked them out at the florist, dark, deep red and as fresh as if he’d picked them himself. They still looked as lovely as they had when he chose them, thanks to the cool, wet cloths the florists had wrapped around the stems and the top-of-the-line air conditioning in the BMW; thank the Fates, because I forgot about them entirely after Kenzie’s text message, he thought. A radiant smile fell over her face as she took them from him; “Oh, baby, they’re so beautiful,” she murmured, leaning her face up to kiss him again, and he felt relief flood through his body again like dopamine; to see her smile after the sound and feeling of her sobbing into him was like a drug kicking in after excruciating pain. Kenzie held them close in her lap during the ride to the Jefferson, her head leaning softly on his shoulder, her fingers trailing against the silky-soft petals of the flowers, her eyes falling over them again and again; Kenzie seemed to drift away from him for awhile during that car ride (Etta James floating through the speakers tonight; stormy weather, stormy weather...and I just can’t get my poor self together...oh, I’m weary all of the time), and he worried again over the impact her day had had on her; wished they could be alone, fast-forward to later, so she could tell him everything, so he would really know what had happened. As they pulled up to the latticed doorway of the Jefferson, though, Kenzie lifted her head and a studied cautiousness flooded into her eyes. Duncan gazed down at her, struck by it.

“Samuel, please look after my roses, won’t you?” (Harris had gone home for the day; he was officially off the clock until tomorrow morning).

“Miss Mackenzie, of course I will.”

“Thank you. You are so good to me.”

“Miss Mackenzie, please. Of course. You are beloved.”

Kenzie gazed through the partition at Samuel for a moment, and Duncan’s heart felt swollen with the weight of his adoration for her; swollen with the words Samuel had spoken to her. You are beloved. Yes. You are most beloved by me, and those who would keep you and protect you and devote ourselves to you, sweet Kenzie. And I long to be your most devoted.

Duncan helped her out of the car and she passed the roses back to Samuel through the window; a bolt of lightning flashed over them, closely followed by a peal of thunder; rain soon to come. They ran inside as the first drops began to fall, hands tightly clasped, and Duncan was struck by a wild desire to keep running with her; my Kenzie, my dearest one, until the rain drenched them and they could disappear into the night and become new, they could be anonymous again and retreat into a secret hidden place where no one could find them, no one could try to hurt her, no one could be cruel to her, where only beautiful and wonderful things surrounded her, only things devoted to her. The warmth of his thoughts rushed into him and just as quickly rushed away as they entered the foyer of the Jefferson Hotel and moved into the hushed cocoon of Plume, his mother’s favorite; in the past few years Duncan had been here with her over two-dozen times. Once Annette found something she liked, she rarely deviated from it. We are very alike in that way, he thought, squeezing Kenzie’s hand a little. She looked up at him, a nervous smile on her mouth, golden hair falling over her shoulder. The makeup she wore washed away the signs of strain and tiredness he’d seen there earlier, but he knew she still felt those emotions underneath. The dress fit her perfectly, but it almost made her look like someone else; like the version of her Annette would ideally prefer, and that made his heart twinge with discomfort. I know you, Kenzie, I see your gold, and your warmth is so much more than whatever my mother wants. He thought of her flowing black dress with the red flowers today, and wanted to kiss her neck; imagined flowers in her hair again, for the hundredth time, it seemed.

Annette always insisted on dining in the private wine room. It was partitioned from the rest of the dining area by a frosted glass door that hid anything within from prying eyes; usually Duncan felt it was excessive, but tonight, he wanted to keep Kenzie from any further molestation by strangers first and foremost, and was relieved to know they’d be shielded from anyone who might be dining that night. A server (middle-aged with thinning hair and a severe stare) led them carefully to the door, pulling it open for them; his eyes skirted over them with clear recognition, but he said nothing. Duncan turned towards the large wooden table in the center of the room as the server shut the door behind them; and met the cold eyes of Annette Shepherd, cradling her wine glass carefully (Pinot Noir, her preferred beast); they slid off him and zeroed in on Kenzie, like the barrel of a gun at a bullseye. She had changed out of the wrap dress she’d worn for the press conference, and was now in a black sheath dress, tattoo lace cutting away from the black bodice along the neck and arms, extending down to trumpet sleeves at her wrists.

“Mackenzie.”

Duncan’s eyes fell down on her, standing beside him; Kenzie held her clutch in both hands in front of her, against her abdomen; her eyes, gold and tawny green in the low light, staring back at Annette with simmering caution. One of her hands came up to press her fingers along the crescent moon at her throat; Annette’s eyes followed her hand there, and Duncan knew; knew that his mother knew that the necklace was from him. It seemed to kindle some sort of low fire in Annette; she smirked; the smirk he knew so well, far closer to the true incarnation of her mirth than any of her dazzlingly fake smiles on public stages and television. Annette’s real mirth came from a knowledge of her power; how tight her grip on control was. The tighter her grip, the more genuine her mirth.

“Come sit by me, dear.”

Kenzie stepped forward, and Duncan noticed the jut of her chin, the flutter of her eyelids; my brave Kenzie. Kenzie went to the seat on Annette’s left side, pulling the chair out and sitting neatly, keeping her back straight, setting her clutch beside the plate in front of her; she stared down nervously for a moment at the array of forks and spoons around it, then back at Annette, smiling a little; Duncan could see the way she was trying to be sweet, trying to maintain her composure, and it made his chest feel tight. Annette beckoned to Duncan with one perfectly manicured hand; “Duncan, sit over here.” She patted the table on her right side; the seat across from Kenzie, so they’d be facing each other. Duncan bit his lip and considered disobeying for a moment; considered sitting in the seat next to Kenzie. But then he decided against it; it would be better to look at Kenzie’s face, so I know how she’s feeling, he thought. So I know if a moment comes where we need to escape. He came around and sat, looking into Kenzie’s eyes as he did. It’s okay, baby. Everything is going to be okay. I will make sure it is.

“I’ve been so anxious to meet you,” Kenzie said, softly, her eyes leaving Duncan’s and moving into his mother’s; her expression falling a little, one of her little hands coming up to the ends of her hair, seeing the coldness in Annette’s gaze, despite her smile. “I...I’ve wanted to tell you...what a wonderful son you’ve raised. He’s been…”

Kenzie trailed off then, and looked down at her hands. Duncan knew that in that moment she was fighting off tears. Oh my sweet Kenzie, he thought, imagining that he could push his warmth and his energy to her across the table; imagining it was gold and drifting, dust full of calmness and strength and all his love, falling into her, against her, under her skin. Be brave. I love you so.

“I love him.” Duncan could hear the tremor in her voice, but as she said it, it was as if the emotion he wanted to give her; the comfort, the wave of gold; had not only settled into her, but around the table; that it had enveloped the three of them in some sort of invisible cocoon, one that she had pushed out of her being, strengthened by his love and his energy, and made into something greater; something that did not diminish as it was shared, but expounded, resounding like an echo that grew rather than receded. It snatched the breath from his lungs; for a moment, it was as if the air was sucked out of the room. He looked at Kenzie for a moment with wonder--then his gaze fell on his mother, whose expression became unreadable, obtuse, conflicted; Annette said nothing for another long moment, then drank long at her wine glass; she set it down on the table, and brought the napkin on her lap up to her mouth, dabbing carefully. She set the napkin back on her lap and continued to stare at Kenzie; Duncan could see something in her gaze that seemed almost envious, a twinge of jealousy; a kind of longing for something long past and never to be reclaimed. Then it retreated; Annette broke the spell of her judgement, and looked down at her lap, a sigh escaping her lips.

“Mackenzie. My god. You look so much like your mother. When I knew her at school.”

The comment sent a current of shock floating through Duncan’s veins; he knew his mother too well to assume she meant it facetiously or with faux-sweetness. Both Annette and Madeline had been known for their powerful personalities and yes, their beauty, when they had been young. It was one thing to say Kenzie looked like Madeline; it was another to say she looked like the Madeline Annette had once known more intimately. It was true they had never been friends in the strictest sense of the word, but there was a time Annette and Madeline had shared study groups and classes; when they had appraised each other across parties, maybe even shared drunken conversations on late nights. There was a time Madeline and Annette could have been friends, as Madeline had implied herself; Annette had chosen not to accept that friendship, but it wasn’t as if there had never been an inkling of it. No, the truth was, the comment had been a genuine one from Annette; suddenly, the air in the room, coming off Annette like pheromones, had shifted from hostility to a kind of heavy resignation.

Annette turned to Duncan, and he noticed the change in her expression now, too. Her eyes, which had a moment ago been full of coiled inference, were soft with surrender. What had prompted it was unclear to him; but the coldness she had shown him today seemed to dissolve in this moment, and Duncan felt that there would likely never be another chance as fortuitous as this one, somehow, to convince her of the sincerity of his desires.

“Mom. This is my Kenzie. I love her...so very much. Please, give us your blessing. If you would, it would mean the world to me.”

Annette was silent again, for what felt like an eon, her hand coming up to fiddle with one of her diamond earrings, looking away from both of them, as though she had forgotten something important. The waiter opened the frosted glass door; Annette shook her head at him and he retreated, the door shutting with a snap. Kenzie’s eyes (so bright, so beautiful, so full of her essence, her loveliness, her kindness, her goodness) reached across to him as Annette remained this way, and her smile to him was like the flowers bursting into bloom at the true dawn of spring; he felt utterly overcome by her again (and again and again), and wished he could reach her to touch her, anxious to be closer to her.

“If this is really what you...want...Duncan.” Annette’s voice seemed puzzled; her stony composure, usually so resolute, had fractured somehow, abruptly; she seemed lost in the sincerity that drifted between them, seemed to shrink from it, then, with disbelief, Duncan noticed the glimmer of tears in her eyes.

“It is, Mom. It really is.”

She sniffed, drained her wine glass, and looked at Kenzie for another long moment. She did not smile, but she said, quietly, “Very well. I...understand. I see. And because you are my greatest joy, Duncan, I will permit you yours. You...have my blessing. Now. Pour me another glass of wine.”

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