#imogen said what the FUCK there's THREE of us we EACH have TWO HANDS I won't STAND for this BULLshit

[yashley]

"I’m gonna send a message to Fearne."

[garricks4thwingqueen]

I'm Going to be a Father? Garrick Tavis X Reader

Synopsis: In honor of Father's day I thought it would be fun to do a fluffy prompt where you find out you're pregnant and go to tell Garrick.  Reader is Xaden’s twin and has been in a long term relationship with Garrick since the rebellion. 

Trigger Warnings: This is a floof of finding out your pregnant and telling Garrick.  Some Swearing

Word Count: 999

     You sighed as you had walked back from the healers quadrant. You hadn’t been feeling well for about a week. Squad battles had just happened and it was your third year at Basgiath so both you and Garrick along with your brother would be getting your lieutenant assignments soon and needless to say you were stressed about being separated from either your boyfriend or your twin. You didn’t even want to bother with going to the healers but after throwing up on your morning run with Imogen and violet you were practically dragged there by Imogen herself. 

    Breathe. It’ll be ok. Do you think you're the first rider to get pregnant before they graduate?   Your dragon Kira chimed into your head. I blame you and Chradh. Two certain dragons forgot their shields three weeks ago.  Garrick had to partially drag me out of battle brief. You hissed at your dragon through your bond. Having mated dragons was sometimes the biggest pain you had to deal with. But you were thankful that you had mated dragons with your boyfriend and neither of your dragons chose other riders. Chradh and I have not had riders in years after we lost our previous riders. We were waiting for the right couple. Garrick and I were the right couple? You have each proven the qualities we wanted in our corresponding riders and you had both started in the same year with an established relationship. That alone was important to us. Fine. Just keep your shield up about this till I tell him. As you wish my dear. 

   You shoved your shield back up. Wanting a few moments of privacy before having to go to breakfast and classes for the rest of the day.  You took the stairs up to the third floor where your shared bedroom with Garrick was and unfortunately it was also right across from Xaden’s. 

“Fucking staircases with no railings.” you mumbled as you caught your breath almost falling from the third step to the top of the landing onto the landing as you felt a pair of familiar hands touch your shoulder and catch you. “Falling up the stairs now that’s talent Y/N/” Xaden snickered. “Shut up.” You hissed at your brother. 

   “Hey.” He put his hands up in self defense. “Everything ok?” “What’s goi-” Garrick stopped noticing your now scraped knee. His demeanor completely changes into the soft protective Garrick you so much. “What happened. “ He asked, helping you get back on your feet steadily. “She fell going up the stairs.” Xaden smirked. You shot him a look with dagger eyes that could kill. “Let’s get you into our room, little one.” “I have to say falling up the stairs is a talent , especially with you. Are you feeling ok?” He asked, grabbing a piece of scrap fabric you both kept on the desk in case these situations were either of you maybe a little scrapped up. You hissed in pain at the contact. I think it's time.  Kira said softly. 

         “Actually, no.” You sighed and ran your fingers through his curls as he stood up and sat on the bed next to you and pulled you into his chest. “What's wrong, love.” He soothed and kissed the top of your head as you let his strong muscular arms wrap around and create your safe space that you felt so warm in. “I, I’m-” You started to say and suddenly felt nervous to tell him. But knew keeping anything from Garrick would be difficult especially with mated dragons. “It’s I’m, your-” You stumbled trying to find the right words. “Hey. It’s ok you can tell me.” Garrick said soothingly, making comforting circles on your back. “Please don’t get mad and I know the timing is shit.” “Baby girl, whatever you have to say I’m not going to be mad. I promise.” You took a deep breath before sighing and ripping off the band aid. 

           “Imogen dragged me to the healers because I threw up after this morning.” “and?” Garrick questioned. “And Im Pregnant.” You closed your eyes waiting for the disappointment because let's face who wants to get pregnant when you're attending a war college? “I know we are about to graduate and we could get separated for who-.” Garrick cuts off your rambling and places a hand on your stomach, “I’m going to be a father?” He said softly. You nod against his chest, your nervousness almost going away until you can’t help but blurt out: “What do you want to do?” You asked almost completely in tears. 

    “Oh sweety.” Garrick said, completely pulling you into him and holding you tightly. “Why do you even ask such a silly question my sweet love?” “Because we are literally prepping for a fucking war and we have no idea if we are getting placed together or not for our assignments.” You sniffed as your voice was muffled and laden with tears. “Y/N I know the timing isn’t great but we have always had each other and that’s what matters most. That and that I love you.” “I love you too, Gare Bear.” You smiled looking up at him as he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips. “I promise I’m going to be right by your side and I promise we will get through this and start our family whether we have a happy and healthy little boy or girl; no matter what.” Garrick had said his lips were still on top of yours. “Promise with sprinkles?” You could feel Garrick smirk against your lip as you used the promise phrase you Garrick and Xaden had come up with when you were kids. Garrick chuckled “I promise with all the sprinkles ever. Whatever this journey brings, all that matters is that we have each other and a healthy little one at the end of everything.”  You hummed in content in Garrick’s arms, his words reassuring that everything would really be ok in the end.

[alsbesluit]

peace.

i never had the courage of my convictions  as long as danger is near. and it’s just around the corner, darling because it lives in me. “Get me Jace. Find him among the rest. We need him for this mission to succeed. Imogen Herondale would gladly give us whatever we want once she realizes we have her grandson. I’m sure the others won’t mind if the other option is hurting their friends.”

It was a day after Valentine Morgenstern spoke those words, saw his men killed and was arrested by the boy he tried to raise and decided it wasn’t for him. Jace woke up in Lydia Branwell’s bed with sticky eyelashes. The notebook was laying on her nightstand. It had probably been there before, but to Jace it was an answer to the question ‘what doesn’t belong in this room?’ Really, the answer should be him, not the notebook. But he’d never belonged anywhere. Not really. Yet, Lydia’s arms were the safest he felt in years.  He knew what to do. He knew he didn’t want to do it. He knew he had to. He’d wasted too much time not-knowing and now that he knew, he couldn’t let anyone else not know. It was unfair. It was unethical. No matter how much he didn’t want to, it didn’t matter. This wasn’t just about him. He was a better man than Valentine. He needed to tell.

Jace kissed Lydia and smiled weakly at her. “I have to go be a responsible -” adult was the usual end of that sentence, often accompanied with a disgusted face expression because Jace didn’t do responsible even on a good day. But this time it didn’t ring true. “Herondale,” was therefore the end of the sentence, giving Lydia an easy way to figure out what he was about to do. She smiled. She didn’t ask question. He’d never loved her more. “Good luck,” she said. She kissed him again. Jace wanted to stay and never leave. He got his leather jacket from where he left it the day prior, smoothed it over and put it back on. He ran his hands through his hair in hopes of it resembling something of a normal style as opposed to a complete bedhead, but him wishing for miracles had never paid off. Another look at Lydia and he exited her rooms, on his way to the basement where Valentine was locked up.

Unfortunately, the only way to the basement was through the Ops centre. Lydia had left instructions for the normal work to continue, Jace knew, as they cleaned up the mess that Valentine and his followers caused. It was busy, every table taken. People looked at he passed by. He moved ahead stoically. He didn’t one anyone answers. He didn’t owe anyone a second look.  There were two exceptions, and those two approached. Izzy wary, Alec concerned. They stopped in front of him, making sure he couldn’t just walk around them. Alec folded his arms over each other in a convincing impression of Jace on a normal day. Izzy gave him a look that answered one question and asked ten more.  ‘”Where the hell have you been?” Alec was using his matter-of-fact voice, the one he used when he was worried but didn’t want it to be obvious. It was obvious without the undertone. “We were worried about you.“ It had been obvious without him pointing it out, too. “I’m fine,” Jace replied. “I was asleep in a place no one could find me so no one could wake me. You’re one to talk, sleeping at Magnus’ every time that’s more convenient for you as opposed to thinking of others trying to find you.” That shut up Alec, who actually looked offended, but not Izzy. “Were you with the girl?” “What girl? There’s a girl?” 

Jace glared at Izzy for saying it with Alec there. Then he glared at Alec for actually responding to it. “I have much more important matters to tend to than talk about my love life, thanks,” he said. “Yes, I was with the girl. Yes, there’s a girl. No, we’re not discussing it. Frankly, again, the two of you have a lot of nerve complaining to me about keeping my love life from you. One of you almost married a girl in an entire ceremony without actually being into girls and the other is attempting to keep from everyone she’s seeing a Downworlder. Get better at suppressing your shit or talk about your shit, but don’t come at me about my shit when I’m the only one in this goddamn family that has it together.” 

Alec and Izzy exchanged a glance that spoke volumes for the three of them. Neither of them probably expected such a sharp reaction, but Jace wasn’t in the mood. He wasn’t here to be grilled. He was here to go see Valentine, who should be the receiving end up being ripped a new one. They were in the way. “Are you sure you slept enough? You sound very sleep-deprived,“ Izzy commented. Jace glared again. “I don’t have time for this,” he said, sounding suspiciously like Alec when he was in his denial phase with Lydia. Disturbingly similar circumstances, very different outcome. He’d marry her within a heartbeat if he could. “Jace, what is going on with you?” This time, Alec was unable to suppress an undertone, which was part annoyed and part worried.  He looked straight at his parabatai. “Valentine told me who my birth parents are. Now move, because I have to go rip him a new one about the fact. I’ll tell you more once I know more.” Alec was surprised enough to move aside and Jace immediately took the space to move past his siblings. He jogged through the rest of the Ops centre in a louse attempt to create more distance between him and his siblings, well aware they could easily catch up with him if they really wanted to. Thankfully, they didn’t. He could only hope that neither of them would tell Maryse.  all these people think love’s for show but i would die for you in secret. When he got downstairs in the basement and made his way towards the glass cell where Valentine was kept, he was surprisingly let in by the guards without a word of protest. He could use the win, so he kept his commentary about the fact to himself and marched up to the glass with the intention to start yelling at Valentine immediately, who was awake and facing him. But then a voice spoke, disturbing him. “Well, well. Mister Wayland. Miss Branwell told me you’re the one that arrested Valentine. Very well.” He didn’t need to turn around to know who was standing behind him. Who else came to talk to Valentine. The reason he was let in so easily. The guards thought Lydia sent him to talk to Imogen Herondale about how he got Valentine imprisoned. He didn’t intend to do any such thing whether Imogen Herondale wanted to or not. Regardless of not needing to turn around to see, Jace turned around slowly and took in Imogen Herondale. He looked nothing like her. She had dark hair, brown eyes and a none too friendly face expression, even if her words had been. He didn’t want to be in the same room as her, never mind her and Valentine.  Behind him, Valentine laughed. Jace closed his eyes briefly and prayed for patience, well aware that something cruel was about to come out of his father’s mouth. That was how he knew Valentine was Valentine. He couldn’t go a minute without saying something cruel to Jace, his favorite target.  “You’ve taken my light. Your darkness will come.“ That wasn’t cruel, but neither did it make sense. Jace turned back around abruptly and made a beeline for the glass wall of the cell so he was facing Valentine directly. Valentine was, of course, grinning, endlessly amused with the situation despite being the one locked up in a cell.  “I don’t want your riddles, so shut the hell up,” he spat at Valentine.  “But it wasn’t a riddle, Jonathan,“ Valentine replied, grinning still. The undertone of his voice, too, was amused, and he was clearly none too impressed with Jace’s outburst. “Those are the words that the High Inquisitor here sent me through fire-message when I killed her son. I had taken her light. My darkness would come. I suppose she’s right. Of course, she doesn’t know that I took something else from her and you didn’t tell her. Maybe I did raise you right after all.”  Jace’s reply came without thinking about it. “I should have murdered you when I had the chance. Fuck the Clave and their take him alive policy. You’re a parasite, an insect, the sort that itches when it lands on you and that you can still feel hours after the fact. I should have crushed you like the bug you are.” Showing his violent tendencies in front of the High Inquisitor and also his grandmother really wasn’t the way he should have handled the situation. Alas. Imogen Herondale, thankfully, didn’t pay a lot of mind to the outburst. He could hear her approach, but she never came near. In the glass he could see that she was standing a couple of feet behind him and a couple of feet to the right, keeping a careful distance from both him and Valentine but still closer than she had been before.  “What did you take from me, Valentine?” the Inquisitor asked with the kind of icy calm that Jace admired and knew he’d never have.  Valentine’s face expression then, as well as the way he theatrically leaned back on his chair and pretended to have to think about whether he wanted to reply at all, made Jace want to storm in there and stick Valentine’s dagger through his heart. That seemed too kind, though. It made more sense to rip open a few arteries and watch him bleed out very slowly. 

At last, Valentine sighed, smirking still regardless. “You didn’t tell her,” he tormented Jace. “Why not? You’ve always wanted what I finally gave you when you arrested me. Are you afraid? Is the great Jace, the greatest demon killer of the New York Institute, afraid of something? What is it? Failure? Not being good enough? Are you afraid you’ll disappoint? Are you -” Jace was sure Valentine could have gone on a long time if Jace let him. He wasn’t going to listen to it any more. Instead, he turned away from Valentine and towards Imogen. He took a deep breath, folded his arms over each other and spoke. “Valentine took your grandson. He stole him, raised him and eventually, when he turned out to be nice and good instead of cold and ruthless, left him.” your integrity makes me seem small. you paint dreamscapes on the wall. i talk shit with my friends it’s like i’m wasting your honor. Imogen looked like a woman that had seen too much and too little at the same time. Her eyes didn’t leave Jace’s figure, even as she moved backwards to a chair to sit down. Behind them, Valentine also found just enough common sense to shut up for a chance. Jace really didn’t want to do this with Valentine around to comment, but it seemed that they were. 

“You look like your mother.” Jace stared.  and you know that i’d swing with you for the fences. sit with you in the trenches. would i be enough if i could never give you peace?

[probably-writing-x]

High Society 2

Going back to school today felt a little sickening. The uniform seemed to send a chill down your spine and every glimpse of yourself in it made you a little more light headed.

"Ready (Y/n)?" Peter calls up the stairs, "Can't be late,"

"I'm coming," You respond, grabbing your bag from the floor and hurrying downstairs.

You kiss Evan goodbye and rush outside to where Peter was making his way toward the car. As soon as you're settled inside, there's another eerie silence.

"You're going to be okay, you know?" Your Dad begins as he sets off.

"You've said that before," You mutter, settling your head against the window to try to focus on the blur passing by outside.

"If he's innocent, they'll find him innocent," He assures you, turning down the long winding route toward school.

"What do you mean if?" You snap, "He's innocent Dad, I know he is,"

"I know you care about him bu-" He sighs, "How can you be so sure?"

You swallow the burning lump in your throat, "I know Noah. He doesn't have a bad bone in his body,"

~~~~~

"God I'm glad to see you," An all too familiar voice groans from beside you and you poke your head out from behind your locker door to see Zendaya stood.

"How was your break?" You ask, collecting your Chem books and lab coat from the untouched locker.

"I spent most of it at the prison," She shrugs.

"How is he?" You say, caution lacing your words as you close the door slowly.

"You'd know if you went to see him," She snaps quickly, "I'm sorry. I know it's not easy to trust hi-"

"I do trust him," You reply hurriedly, "It's just tough I guess,"

"He's not doing so well, really, he-"

Her words fall like white noise around you as your eyes land upon the group of three that had just come walking down the staircase, heading straight towards your eyeline.

It doesn't take long for Z to notice as she watches Tom's eyes latch onto yours and remain there. Yours focus on him intently until they're distracted by the mop of curls beside him.

"I'll catch you later," Z says, nudging your side a little as she catches up with Haz and walks away with him.

And so you're simply stood, watching as the Holland brothers walk closer and closer to close the lasting gap between you.

"(Y/n)," Tom starts, his words shaken by the lump in his throat.

He looks tired, though it's the first day of term. And his eyes seem to glass over like he could cry at any second.

And for a moment, you're completely lost in his innocence. But then your eyes are back on Harry. And he looks just like Harry. In all ways the boy you'd met in September. But this Harry was a murderer. Walking free.

"I'll see you in chem," You nod, stepping past the three of them to continue walking down the corridor.

"(Y/n)!" Tom exclaims, turning round to catch your arm, "Please,"

You clench your jaw and try with every morsel of your being to not glance back to him.

"You ignore me all break and you're still not talking to me?" He says, pleading now, "Can't we at least talk about this?"

You take in a deep breath and begin, "The gym, second period,"

~~~~~

And just like that, second period rolls around far too quickly. You cautiously walk through to the gym and find Tom sat with his legs dangling off the boxing ring, awaiting your arrival with bubbling anxiety.

"Hey," He says, jumping up to meet you as you walk toward him.

"Hi," You respond, forcing a little smile.

"I missed you,"

Your jaw clenches like it's the only thing you know how to do, "Let's talk,"

The two of you find yourself sitting down on the edge of the boxing ring, an uncomfortable and awkward distance between you.

"Before you start," Tom interjects, "Can I at least ask how you're doing?"

You swallow, "I'm doing okay,"

"And Evan?"

~~~Friday 25th January 2019~~~

"Alright, I want you to go to your house and pack a bag," Tom grips onto your trembling arms like you're about to crumble in front of him, "Just grab the essentials okay?"

You nod and blink through your blurring vision, trying more and more to focus on his every word.

You're sprinting through the back lane between your two houses and eventually rounding the corner to the home you'd apparently be leaving tonight.

It doesn't pass your mind when you first enter through the doors, trying to calm your frantic breathing in fear of waking up your parents.

You get upstairs instantly, stuffing items into a duffle bag with hands that shook with far too much reason. The only thing you wanted now seemed to be your parents. You wanted their arms around you as they stroked your hair and told you they'd figure it all out because you were still their little girl.

"Fuck," You wince, shaking your head as you sling the bag over your shoulder and make your way toward the stairs once again.

It's the turned on light in their bedroom that confuses you the most, and the wide open door. The bed hasn't been slept in and the drawers are all opened like someone was frantically searching for something they'd never find. There's a tightness that aches in your chest straight away and it's impossible to pass.

But your phone starts ringing.

"(Y/n)!" Tom's voice is more frantic than your thoughts, "Where are you? We need to go,"

And you'd listened.

~~~~~Now~~~~~

"I shouldn't have gone. I knew something was wrong and I-"

"Hey," Tom settles his hand over yours, "You had no idea. That night was- We didn't know what we were doing,"

"Yeah, you're right," You fight back a fresh batch of your tears, "We watched someone get murdered, did everything we could to cover it up and ran away from home. All whilst my Dad was fighting for his fucking life in hospital,"

"If we'd have known, we coul-"

"We could've what, Tom?" You raise your voice, jumping off the boxing ring, "You and I both know that nothing was keeping us here that night. We wanted to leave and we did. Nothing was changing that,"

"(Y/n), come on," He pleads, grabbing your wrist as you make attempt to leave, "You couldn't have done anything more, you know that,"

You let out a strangled scoff as you fight off the immense surge of tears, "I could've told the police what I knew before they arrested an innocent man, Tom. I could've picked up my Dad's calls instead of ignoring them. I could've been here for both of them through it all instead of acting like I could live some fantasy away from all of this with you,"

He lets you walk away this time, his hands dropping to his sides.

Until you reach the door.

"Wait,"

You don't turn around, but you stop in your tracks.

"You're not going to tell anyone, right?"

And, with that, the door swings shut behind you.

~~~

"(Y/n)!" Harrison's voice calls from behind you and you glance round your locker to see him hurrying across to you.

"What's wrong, Harrison?"

"No, nothing, actually," He shakes his head, "I was just wondering whether I could walk to class with you,"

You frown a little but nod nonetheless, "Of course, how was your break?"

"It was okay, I went to my grandparents' place in Spain. Just needed some time to get away from everything," He admits, scratching at the back of his neck.

"I don't blame you, I think we all needed to," You reply, tightening your grip on your books at your chest a little.

"Yeah, yeah, I guess it's the same for you. I mean Imogen was annoying sometimes but she was a good person," He says and you're not sure if he's convincing himself or you, "And she was your sister,"

"Hardly, she wanted nothing more than to not class me as family," You shrug, "I don't blame her,"

"Yeah, but still, don't you think about it?"

When you go to respond, Harrison's hand grips you to stop you from walking into the class, his eyes look utterly terrified, "I don't think Noah did it (Y/n),"

Your mouth opens and closes a few times but words completely fail you.

"We need to get to class Haz," You mumble, stepping away from his enclosed focus quickly and heading inside.

You see Tom's eyes on you instantly, eyeing the seat beside him that was normally for you. His eyes are flitting between you and Harrison, evidently wanting to know all the details of that small exchange.

"Is this seat taken?" You ask quietly to a boy you didn't recognise who sat alone.

"No, no, go ahead," He waves absently, leaning back on his chair and crossing over his ankles as they settle on the table.

You smile as somewhat thanking him and settle into the chair, trying to ignore Tom's burning gaze on you.

"Alright, it's nice to see you all again class," Mr Fitz begins as he steps into the front of the room, "We have some new students joining us for the remainder of the year and for the foreseeable future,"

Your eyes flit to the boy beside you and you're met with him exaggeratively wiggling his brows in your direction.

"Students, please meet Finn and Alexa," Mr Fitz gestures to them, "Please, make them feel welcome,"

Alexa seems to be a quiet girl sat towards the front of class with her head buried in a book that clearly required every morsel of her attention.

Finn, however, appears quite the opposite. He's opted now to start flicking through the book you always kept with you. However, he's not mocking you. The boy appears to be truly invested in what each page says.

"Is something interesting you?" You ask quietly, "Or can I have my book back?"

He smirks and settles the book back down where it had been exactly placed before, "I prefer Oscar Wilde,"

You roll your eyes and turn back to face the front. Tom's eyes are on you once again but you dismiss him instantly.

~~~

"So how does helping me find the lunch hall sound? I didn't really listen when they did the tour," Finn admits, scratching the back of his neck.

You roll your eyes, "I need to go home,"

He fakes a gasp, "Skipping school? Not what I expected,"

"Just for lunch," You comment, "Good luck,"

Collecting the rest of your things, you begin heading toward your locker, finding Tom hot on your heels.

"I'll drive you home," He says, taking some books from you as you struggle to balance it all.

"I can walk,"

"And you'll spend the majority of lunch doing so. Just let me drive you, please," He sighs, slipping your Spanish book into place.

You glance at him hopelessly, letting your tense shoulders drop, "Fine,"

~~~~~

"Hey Dad," You knock gently on the bedroom door, "Thank you Penny,"

The nurse politely dismisses herself as you and Tom step inside the bedroom.

"It's good to see you again Mr (Y/l/n)," Tom nods respectfully.

"Again?" Evan grumbles, shifting uncomfortably in the bed.

You hurry over instantly, fixing the cushion behind him to let him lay down properly, "He doesn't have a great memory of a lot from before the accident."

Tom's jaw clenches and he opts to sit down in one of the chairs beside the bed as you perch on the arm rest.

"How's school?" Your Dad asks, "Did Peter manage to get you there on time?"

You chuckle a little, "Surprisingly, yeah. You don't need to worry about that,"

Your Dad smiles a little and cautiously shifts his hand until it finds yours, "I'm tired, darling,"

"Yeah, get some sleep Dad," You encourage, "I'll tell Penny to make you some lunch for a little bit later,"

He settles his eyes to close and you are left waiting in still silence until you hear his breathing even out and his hand slip slightly from your grip.

You pull your hand away and shift awkwardly on the armrest, now realising how close you were to Tom, "You know, when I first got back after it happened, he had no idea who I was. It was just Dad with him the whole time so that's all he knew. And then I came in and I remember he just screamed, and he was yelling and it was like he was trying with everything he had to just get me away from him and I-"

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay," Tom settles a hand on your back, the other moving to your knee as he squeezes gently.

"He's my Dad and he didn't even know who I was," You suppress another sob, "But the worst thing was that I don't think I would've even recognised me. I mean fuck, after everything that's happened, maybe he'd be happier if he didn't know-"

"Don't even say that," Tom affirms, standing up and moving to crouch to your height in front of you, both hands moving to cup your face, "Your Dad, both of your Dad's, they'll always always love you. And you've done nothing that could even possibly question that,"

"We covered up a murder T," You shake your head, "And sometimes I think that's worse than us being the ones to kill her,"

He takes a deep breath and his hands almost fall from your face, "We had no other choice,"

"Yeah, you're right," You scoff, "And I'll hate myself for it every day,"

"It's not your fault, and you know that," He encourages.

"You're lying to yourself if you think that's the case," You get up and head toward the door, "I'll get us some lunch,"

That was how it would be with you and Tom now. This twisted relationship in which you couldn't be with him but you couldn't be apart. He was in all ways a person you should want to get away from now. But there was one night, and a thousand other memories, that tugged your heart to him and made sure that your hand always found his when you were running from fire. Which you guessed you'd be doing a lot. The raging fire of guilt wouldn't just leave you now.

~~~~~

Tags: @imarypayne @sunshine112 @bringmethehorizonandpizza @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny @trap-house-homiecide @spiderrpcrker @tommydaspidey @oneblckcoffee @darlingtholland @fanficparker @xxtomxo @httpfandxms @jackiehollanderr @bookish-and-shy @trustfundparker @kaitlynjones12 @czygrlm @imagine-lovebug

[harryshollands]

MERRY CHRISTMAS, BABY!  HARRISON OSTERFIELD  (3/?)

Warnings: fluff

Paring: Harrison Osterfield x Holland!Reader

Summary: You meet up with your friend group to exchange gifts and you get to talking with Haz about the impending importance of telling his parents.

A/N: Part three is here! Sorry for the last update, my loves, I was caught up in moving. I hope you enjoy the new installment! Feedback is always welcome and requests never close! The whole series is going to be unedited until I finish it  :)

PART ONE       PART TWO        PART THREE

Masterlist! Send a Request!

Word Count: 1,919

“Be safe, you lot. Home before the sun rises, you hear me?” Your mother instructed you and your siblings (other than Paddy, who was sleeping after crashing from his sugar rush). 

Tom and the twins unanimously snorted but nodded their heads in confirmation all the same. 

“Of course, mom” You laugh, hugging her quickly before shoving your hands in your pockets and making your way to Tom’s car.

 You and your siblings had the annual tradition of meeting up with your friends at 11pm on Christmas to exchange gifts. 

Why eleven? Because your families were always done with the festivities of the day and you could have a mini celebration with each other before the day was officially over. Over the years you’d had new additions to your friend group, but the plan was always the same. 

This year the group had gained Elysia. 

Altogether the group consisted of you, your siblings, Haz, Tuwaine, your best friend Indiana and Imogen. 

You made your way to The Rose Pub in Fulham just twenty minutes or so outside of Kingston Upon Thames. You’d all be there at 11 on the dot and leave at 11:30 on the dot. 

It always played out the same, although this year you wouldn't be drinking, nor would you be giving just one present to everyone. 

Everyone was getting two, one present being the main one and the second one a pregnancy reveal of some sort. 

You buckled your seatbelt as your siblings filed into the car one by one, not bothering to complain about you sitting in the passenger seat without calling shotgun. 

"Wait!" You shriek, eyes wide causing your siblings to jump.

 "Did we put the present bag in the car earlier?" You enquire causing your brothers to groan. 

"Just because you're having a baby doesn't mean that you have to act like mom" Harry grumbled under his breath as Sam assured you that he'd done it. 

"Bugger off, Harold" You grunt back as Tom backs out of the driveway, your first destination being picking up Elysia. 

"Both of you can shut it, yeah? I want to listen to Christmas music" Tom scolded, rolling his eyes and jamming his finger against the button on the console for the radio, humming in satisfaction as  Last Christmas started playing through the car speakers.

 "Merry Christmas!" Imogen cheered as you made your way into the pub, rushing over to you and hugging you. 

"You too, Mo!" Harry responded with a smile before you all trailed over to your group of friends. Harrison's face lit up as he saw you, jumping up from the table and giving you a hug. 

You laughed quietly and pressed your face against his chest. 

"Merry Christmas, Haz" You mutter before pulling away to hug everyone else. Your friends noticed the way their other friend was clinging to you and shared grins. 

"Not to be that bitch, but can we start the present giving?" Indiana piped up from beside Tuwaine with a big grin as you wiggled her fingers, waiting for someone to pass her a gift whilst your siblings emptied your present bag onto the table. 

"You are that bitch, Indie." Elysia giggled as Haz wrapped his arm around the back of your seat, allowing you to lean against him as everyone started exchanging presents. 

You'd received a leather-bound journal from Tuwaine, a scented candle from Indiana, taco print socks from Elysia and a pack of oil pastel crayons from Imogen. 

Haz was passing you his present for you when he hesitated. 

"Did you get her a tarantula? Is that why you're having second thoughts?" Indiana joked as everyone observed the situation. 

Harrison flipped her off jokingly before looking back at you with a smile. 

"You have to accept this no matter what," He said simply before passing you the box, leaving you with your eyebrows furrowed and your friends speculating what it could possibly be. 

"If you've given her a Porsche I'll be unfollowing you, you know I've wanted one for years" Elysia piped up, trying to distract your other friends so that you could have your moment of opening it. 

Your fingers slid over the wrapping paper, a smile tugging at your lips as you ripped it open, glancing at Haz before opening the lid and letting your jaw drop.

 "You didn't" You shriek, looking at Harison with wide eyes. Imogen raised her eyebrows and rushed around the table to look into the box. 

"Holy shit" Imogen breathes before sitting back down. 

"What is it?" Indiana grills, her eyes narrowing. 

All questions cease as you pull the Cartier box away from the paper. Tuwaine shoots Harrison a 'what the fuck' look whilst Sam does a double take. 

"You got her something from fucking Cartier?" Tom gawked, watching as you pull open the box. It's the Love necklace with two interlocking rings. 

You don't feel wealthy enough to touch it, let alone be holding the box. 

"Merry Christmas?" Haz jokes as your friends hover behind the two of you and shriek about the necklace. 

You glance at him with wide eyes. You noticed how small the chain was. It was the one for babies. Luckily your friends hadn't seemed to notice, so you snap the box shut and let out a sniffle. 

"You're too much, Harrison Osterfield." You smile, pulling him into a hug and holding him tightly. 

"It's one for-" 

"I know" You whisper back, pressing a kiss to his cheek and pulling back, dabbing at your eyes in case you'd let a tear slip. 

"No one can top that" Tuwaine grumbles as Tom slides you your pile of presents to hand out. 

"Okay, so I got you all two things" You announce causing everyone to cheer. Haz glanced at you and you simply tap the Cartier box in front of you and his eyes light up, understanding immediately. 

"Let me finish!" You cut off your friends, laughing as Tuwaine tells you to fuck off. 

"The smaller present has to be opened at the same time. It's the same for all of you and I want to have it on video" You tell them before sliding each friend their two presents and standing up, grabbing your phone and starting to record. 

"Suck my dick, Harrison. You're the only one without to presents" Indiana cackled before you instructed them all to open their gifts. 

Haz was trying to keep his face neutral but you could see him biting his lip to stop himself from grinning. 

You watched giddily as they all ripped the paper to shreds. 

They all looked genuinely confused as they unfolded the fabric, unfolding it and reading the writing. Indiana realized what was going on first. 

"Wait! Really?" She asked, beaming up at you with the little onsie in her hands. 

"Mmhmm" You laugh as she jumps up and wraps you in a hug. 

"Oh my god! Holy shit!" Tuwaine shouts, looking at you with wide eyes. 

"Is that why you aren't drinking tonight? Son of a bitch!". 

Putting two and two together, Imogen covered her mouth in shock. The onsies had #1 Uncle and #1 Aunt printed on them respectively.

 "Congratulations!" Imogen let out a sob, wiping at her face and pulling you into a hug, soon followed by Tuwaine as Harrison took over filming, watching as you brothers grumbled about being better uncles due to being related by blood. 

Once everyone was sitting down and the video was stopped your friends set their gazes on Harrison with narrowed eyes. 

"Why the hell did you know before us? Is this favoritism?" Tuwaine enquired, his eyes glancing between the two of you and them trailing to Tom who was trying not to laugh. He glanced back at Harrison and then it hit him, causing you to burst out laughing. 

"You're the dad! You slept with my baby!" He declared causing the girls to look on in shock. 

"Surprise?" Harrison joked whilst dodging Indiana's hands as she tried to slap him. 

"No fucking way" Imogen laughed, looking between her friends in awe. 

"Are you guys together, too? Because I've been waiting for this since we met back in 2012" Tuwaine asked causing you to blush, shaking your head. 

"We're not dating" You reply, watching as Indiana got ready to kick up a storm. 

"And why the hell not? We thought that was going to be the announcement tonight, not a baby. Not that I'm complaining, but why the hell aren't you dating yet? We've all been expecting it" She grills, watching as you shrink into your seat and Haz huffs out an awkward laugh, scratching his neck as his face turned red. 

"We've been expecting it? I haven't expected shit" Harry pitched in, his eyebrows raised as he watched you shift awkwardly. 

"They've been eyeing each other for years, Harry. Ae you blind? They're perfect for each other!" Imogen scolded, sitting back in her seat and clutching the onsie tightly in her arms. 

"You're making them feel awkward, stop!" Elysia giggled, sending you a smile and leaning her head on Sam's shoulder. 

It was 11:25 by now and you were all cleaning up the wrapping paper and shoveling it into your respective bags so that you'd be ready for 11:30. Your topics of conversation varied as you all joked around, happy to be together for another year in a row. 

"I hope you know that I'm going to be a super annoying and protective bitch for the next nine months" Indiana informed you as you got ready to leave, Imogen humming in agreement as Haz let out a laugh, holding you closer to him. 

"Wouldn't want it any other way" You reply softly, hugging everyone before you made your way out of The Rose Pub, walking in synch with Harrison and your brothers. 

"Come to dinner at my house tomorrow, yeah?" Haz suggested, looking down at you as you came to a stop at Tom's car, letting your brothers get in ahead of you while you parted with Harrison. 

"Telling your parents?" You inquire with a small smile and he nods, an anxious smile spreading across his own face. 

"Charlotte has kept it quiet for now, but lord knows when it'll slip" He adds, watching as you mull it over in your head.

 "Either way, I want to see you tomorrow" You look at him, your expression softening as you nod. 

"I'll be there" You confirm, pulling him into a hug, squeezing his shoulders tightly as he presses a kiss to your forehead. 

"Can I take you to lunch?" Harrison asks as you pull back and blush. 

"Like a date?" 

"Exactly like a date" He confirms, biting his lip before bursting out into yet another grin as you nod. 

"I'd like that," You tell him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek as your brothers started the car, letting the heat have a chance to kick in. 

"I'll see you tomorrow then, Y/N/N" He leans down and taps your stomach jokingly, muttering a quick and dorky 'you too' to the baby in your stomach and pressing a kiss to it through your coat with a dorky grin. 

"We definitely did this the wrong way around, huh?" You joke as he opens the passenger side door for you, waving at Tom as he does so. 

"It's definitely not the typical situation, but it's perfect for us" Harrison confirms, quickly saying goodnight to you all and watching as you pull your door shut, Tom starting the drive back to your house.

[lets-break-free-from-our-chains]

“Your Mother Loved You, Evangeline.”

A/N: Alright people! Its definitely has been a hot minute, and I will be the first one to admit to that. Couple of things had been going on. My father recently pass away at the very end of march and I’ve dealing with severe depression and anxiety. My doctor, however, find meds that work for me and I have felt significantly better. I think I ready to dive back into my writing again. Lol, anyways this can be considered a one-shot but really it’s a small piece of the whole. This will be a Multi part story. though I don’t know how me parts yet.

SUMMARY: Eve confiding in her shadow-mate, Alec Lightwood, about her insecurities and doubts concerning her mother(Celine)’s true feelings towards her; Jocelyn and Imogen erase said doubts, and afterwards Eve finds that a new and more deep true love has begun to blossom for her biological mother.

Warning(s): Major Sadness in the beginning and middle, Possible trigger; so read at your own risk, Major fluff and love in the 3rd and final part of the story, Alec being a real cheeseball for his mate, Alec is his own warning.

BETTER MORE DETAILED SUMMARY WHEN I RELEASE OC’S BIO/DESCRIPTION!!! This Multi-Part story will be about The City of Bones Movie(2013) Alec lightwood/OC(Evangeline Josephine Herondale-Fray) and will later on in the story be known as Evangeline Josephine Herondale-Lightwood. Eve is one of the two Herondale Children who were both thought lost and worst but mostly likely dead. Raised from the time she was 2 to 18 years old by her Godmother, Jocelyn Fray, Eve Fray is a girl who knows her true identify as a Herondale but has been warned since she was little that revealing her identify could lead to her death and the death of everyone she loves. The only other person who has any inkling of who she truly is, is her Shadow-mate Alec Lightwood. With the new discovery of her shadow-mate; the stakes have risen to impossible heights, and she’ll do anything to save him from the dangerous path she’s been given no choice to run on. AU!The Mortal Instruments where every Shadowhunter is born with their shadow-mates name placed on their bodies.

DISCLAIMER: I ABSOLUTELY ADORE MALEC! I am in no way homophobic! I am actually apart of the LGBTQ myself! This is just one of the many stories from my imagination that I have decided to share with everyone, that also have a passion for reading and writing. Also, I mean come on! Both versions of Alec Lightwood are fucking hot! Don’t say you haven’t thought of him like that at least one time! anyways, ENJOY!

Word Count: 2670

Eve clung to Alec's shirt like a child while crying. Alec had moved them to their shared bedroom where he knew Eve would feel less vulnerable. Alec knew if there was one thing his mate hated most; it was the feeling of vulnerability. She continued to cry and cling to him as they laid on the king sized bed, and every wail released into the air by his inconsolable mate, was like pythons wrapping themselves around Alec's heart. Each one physically hurt him as Alec couldn't bare to see his mate in such distress. He tightened his muscular arms around her protectively as she calmed herself enough to speak.

"Why did she give me away to Jocelyn like that, I mean did she finally decide she didn't want me?" Eve hiccupped into Alec's, broad leather covered, chest. "Did she not love me enough or at all for that matter?"

Eve felt pained yet relieved as soon as she said it. Almost like a giant burden, bigger than she originally thought, was lifted off her chest. Alec buried his face in her golden mane while pulling her even closer, if that was possible at all. A sudden, familiar feminine, voice startled both the young adults.

"She loved you so much she had to let you go. No matter how much it pained her, and believe me it pained her, greatly." Jocelyn spoke, gently. "If it wasn't the circle member's blade that killed her first; then it was without a doubt her broken heart, from losing her beloved Evangeline, that killed her."

Eve began to sit up while wiping away her tears and Alec followed suit in sitting up while rubbing her back, comfortingly. She noticed, her grandmother, Imogen by Jocelyn's side, wearing a tender sympathic expression. Eve threw a sad confused look towards them both, "What do you mean, Joc?"

Jocelyn sighed, softly, while looking at the floor, "May we come in?", she spoke, as she looked back up. Alec and Eve both nodded their consent before both women entered the room, slowly, and Jocelyn took a seat on the left end of the bed while Imogen to the right. Imogen laid her hand on Eve's lower leg and stroked it comfortingly while Jocelyn proceeded to tell her what exactly happened.

"The night Valentine planned to attack Herondale Manor," She began, while Alec and Eve listened intently. "I accidentally overheard him talking to Blackthorn and Pangborn an hour or so beforehand about his plans and when exactly he planned to head towards Herondale Manor. He planned to raid the house for information, kill Celine, and kidnap you and your unborn brother." She stopped short, and made a small indistinctive noise while cocking her head to the side and slightly shaking it. As if she was uncomfortable with her thoughts.

Jocelyn looked slightly sick as she spoke the next sentence, "He planned to kill your mother and cut your baby brother from her womb, and said that you if were more trouble than you were worth than he would kill you and make do with only your brother use." Alec and Eve couldn't stop the loud gasps and looks of horror and shock that crossed their faces while Jocelyn nodded in agreement. Alec instinctively pulled Eve closer at the thought of any danger to his mate; past, present, or future. Everyone looked at Imogen as she made a inaudible strangled noise in the back of her throat and pushed her shoulders down and back. All while wearing a pained expression. Jocelyn looked more intently to Imogen, who still looked in pain, but never the less waved her hand for Jocelyn to continue.

Jocelyn turned back to Eve and looked her in the eyes. "Both of you, brace yourself, because the story will only because more horrifying and grievous." Both young adults nodded and Jocelyn continued, "Valentine had already sent a few circle members to Herondale manor to hold Celine and you captive until Valentine got there. I realized that if I left right then than I could beat Valentine to Herondale Manor and possibly save all three of you before more circle members arrived. So I rushed to the Manor and when I got there I saw that the members Valentine sent ahead were already there. all of them were dead, except two as the thought didn't occur to them that even if Celine was 8 months pregnant there might still be a fight." Eve smiled slightly at that before Jocelyn continued on; "One of them had accidentally stabbed her and she was losing blood fast. too fast. I don't know where the other two had run off too. Most likely afraid of the repercussions by Valentine for the mistake they made. I found her in your destroyed nursery laying on the floor right next to your crib." Both Eve and Jocelyn eyes were tearing up and Eve's hand tightened on Alec's without realizing. While Alec and Imogen could do nothing, looking between the two women before them, sadly.

Jocelyn cleared her throat; "I found her laying right next to your crib and you...you were crying. Screaming bloody murder, are better yet more bitter words to describe your cries. Crying and screaming so hard you had crocodile tears pouring down your cheeks and your face was a shade of bright red I'd never seen before. They say first love's heartbreak is the worst heartbreak. Those people don't know what they're talking about. Not for one second." Jocelyn lets out a short quiet sob as silent tears roll down everyone's faces. "Nothing breaks your heart like hearing a babe wail and scream for their dying mother, and if that sight wasn't enough to knock all the air out of my lungs. Then, the sight of her bloody hand reached through the bars of your crib to hold your tiny hand while singing your favorite lullaby, was enough to do so." Eve shut her eyes as tears rapidly slid down her face, and her body violently shook. 

"Your mother was minutes or less away from dying and the only thing she cared about was making your pain and crying stop. Once I reached her side she looked up at me and begged me to take you and Clary, who I was still pregnant with at the time, and runaway to safety. So Valentine could never use either of you for his own personal ambitions. It was her dying wish that, as your godmother, I did everything in my power to keep you; alongside Clary, completely safe from Valentine." Jocelyn, who was still crying, looked Eve in the eyes.

 "I pulled you from the crib and put you in your mother's arms one last time, and you stopped crying long enough for your mother to say her last words to you. Her last words were; ‘I love you and your brother more than anything in the world. You are the reason I haven't flung myself from one of the demon towers by now. Out of all the hard moments I've lived through in my life; the hardest moment would without a doubt be, the moment I realized I could do nothing to stop the fact that the angel has given me no say or choice in leaving you all alone in the world. My Evangeline, you and your brother are the only things I’ve ever done right in this world. I love you...Goodbye, my Evangeline.’ A few Moments later she died with you in her arms. I knew the exact moment she died because it was she same moment you began to scream again. I knew I had to stay quite a few steps ahead of Valentine, so I took you from Celine's arms and said my farewells. The farther I got away from your mother the harder and louder you began to wail, if that was even possible." Finally, Jocelyn voice broke on the last sentence. Eve turned into Alec and buried her face in his chest, balling her eyes out. The only thing muffling her harsh cries being his chest as he held her close and buried his face in her seemingly endless locks.

"Your mother loved you, Evangeline. You were enough for her. You were wanted, more than anything else in the world, by your Mother. It wasn't the circle, the academy, her friends, or your father that kept her going as long as she did. It was you and when your baby brother was conceived. It was you and him who kept her going. Nothing and no one else. Just you and him." Jocelyn smiled through her tears at Eve. "Never again doubt your mother's love, want, or need for you. That's one of the few things in your life you will never have to question under any circumstances.

She finally pulled away from Alec's chest and looked at Jocelyn and Imogen. Eve's cheeks, nose, and eyes were bright red, but somehow she still managed to appear angelic in beauty. "Thank you Jocelyn, and Thank you Grandmother. I know it doesn't look like it but I do feel better now that my previous doubts are now a thing of the past." Eve pulled away from Alec to hug both of them, spending a few moments longer in her grandmother's warm embrace. She pulled away and immediately moved back into Alec arms. Jocelyn and Imogen moved to leave the room, but before Imogen closed the door she turned3 to Eve and spoke; "OH, and if you want to hear some more stories about you and your mother or you and I that are more uplifting; come see me. I’ll always be happy to tell you a story.

"Grandmother, how many stories can you have? I was two and a half when I left." Eve laughed, and playfully rolled her eyes. Imogen looked at Eve in mild disbelief of her question, mouth ajar and her right poised and defined eyebrow arched.

"Your joking, aren't you? Little angel, you may have only been in this world two and a half, but believe me when I say you are your father's daughter. Combine that with the bull headed trait you got from your mother, and that's a recipe for some good stories about you and mischief managed escapades." Imogen nodded her head once, firmly, and Alec sniggered before replying to Imogen.

"I think I'll be coming to your office more often to hear some of those stories, Inquisitor."

Imogen smiled at him, "Please, your my little angel's shadow mate and will soon enough be married to her with my great grandchildren on the way, call me Imogen. I insist." Alec looked surprised and at a loss of words for a moment before he cleared his throat and gave a soft smile.

"You honor me. Thank you, Imogen." Imogen smiled in return and pivoted on the heels of her feet before closing the door and making her way down the hall.

Eve sat in a daze for a moment before getting off the bed and crossing the room to her vanity. She sat down in the vanity chair, and looked in the mirror with her eyes unfocused. Her mother truly did love and want her. Her mother’s last words would forever be burned into her mind. That one sentence, though. 'My Evangeline, you and your brother were the only things I ever did right in this world.' My Evangeline. My Evangeline. My Evangeline. That's what her mother called her. Her Evangeline. Eve could only imagine how sweet the words would sound and the way the words would fall from her mother's lips. 

Her mother is probably the only person she would ever one hundred percent be okay with calling her by her full first name. It's not that she doesn't like her name. She actually finds it quite beautiful, but when she was little all the kids would tease her for having such a old fashioned, and uncommon for the area they lived in, name. Well, Eve would pick having the name Evangeline Josephine any day over being the 10th Tyler or Jake of her grade level. At least, Eve would know when the teacher was addressing her and not some half-wit on the other side of the room in the middle of picking their nose with a green crayon.

she used to hate when people would call her by her full first name. However, now the one thing she's desires most in the world at the moment is to hear her mother say those two words. My Evangeline. Her Evangeline. Eve still stuck in her daydream sighed, deeply. She soon enough came back to reality, and her line of vision focused once more. She focused on her reflection in the vanity mirror and took in her current state.

She gently touch the puffy area around her nose and golden eyes before running her hands through her ample amount of long loose curls, and dropping them on the vanity table that seemed to be overflowing with make up and hair care products. Eve heard movement behind her and looked up in the mirror to see Alec making his way over to her. He came right up behind her, and tenderly grabbed her shoulders. He massaged said shoulders while speaking;

"I seriously don't know how you so effortlessly do it, but you grow more beautiful, sexy, and strong everyday. My beautiful strong sexy mate." His full lips, lovingly kissed the crown of her head. Thank goodness her cheeks were already red that way she didn't have to show her blush. However, even if her blush didn't give her away the almost bashful look on her face and the slight duck of her head while casting her eyes to the side did the trick. She normally would flirt back with Alec but in her state with the puffy red eyes and nose and all the vulnerability she's felt for the pass few days, who wouldn't have a shy response to such a bold flirtatious comment.

Alec didn't have to flirt with her especially now that they completed the mate ceremony and placed the forever binding mating runes on each other, but it still felt good to know he enjoyed flirting with her because he found her beautiful and sexy. Nothing feels as good as knowing your true shadow-mate still finds you as beautiful and sexy as the first time he met you and is willing to put in the extra effort. Eve played off the shy moment by turning around in the chair, and kneeled in the seat while, ever so lightly, brushing her fingers up his strong arms to wrap her arms around his strong and broad shoulders. Alec wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed her body flush against his.

"Why, I didn't know I had such a cheeseball for a mate." Eve giggled. Alec smiled, sweetly and laughed,

"You thought that was cheesy? Well then, allow me to sweep you off your feet, future Mrs. Lightwood." Eve, playfully, 'oohhh' at challenge with interest. Alec picked her up and rested her legs around his waist.

"You are the most gorgeous." Eve gasped, "The most adorably cute." Eve gasped, again. " The most insanely intelligent." she gasped, loudly, once more. "the most Desirably sexy." she let out a pleased noise. "Strong independent woman any man with half a brain could ask for." Eve gasped the loudest out of all the ones she gave before replying, "oh, I love it when you talk dirty to me, baby!" 

Alec threw his head back as he laughed before speaking; "Yeaaahhh." He drawls out, in a sexy voice, "And your all mine." he growled out possessively before 'attacking' her neck. Eve gave a content 'mmhmm' in agreement as he laid them both on the bed and proceed to snuggle one another. 

The past few days for Eve may have been hard, but it was all worth in the end. Moments like these were what made it worth it. Moments with her Alec Lightwood.

[julia-highstorms]

Play My Game (Tom x F!MC)

Author’s note: after latest ILB chapter, I needed something light and fun, so here we are! I imagine Tom and Julia as the most competitive couple ever and these two goofs are constantly competing over the most stupid things lol

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Pixelberry Studios.

Song: Play My Game - The Donnas

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Tom x F!MC (Julia Vance)

Word count: +2200

I almost broke my highest score

When you walked through that door

I lost my game and you're to blame

I could have been in the hall of fame

“Nooooo!”

“YES!”

Tom laughs maniacally as his Toad passes through a dizzy Yoshi, Julia’s avatar, after throwing a banana at her.

As soon as the green dinosaur stops spinning, the girl presses hard on the button, speeding up towards the finish line.

“Ugh I hate this fucking stupid rainbow road!”

Tom just keeps laughing beside her, his avatar easily gaining on the other competitors. Soon, Julia’s character shows up close to his.

It’s the final turn. The others are long behind. It’s only the two of them now.

She has to do something.

Suddenly, the girl throws the Wii control aside.

“What are you do—” - but Tom is interrupted when his girlfriend almost literally jumps on him, her hands in claws, ready to tickle him. - “STOP. I know what you’re trying to do!” - he says falling on his back, Julia landing on top of him, as he grabs her wrists with both of his hands, avoiding the tickling attack. - “I don’t fall for this anymore!”

“Are you sure?” - she smirks devilishly at him before showering his neck with kisses. Tom burst out in giggles, squirming beneath her. The girl’s fully aware how sensitive her boyfriend is, especially on his neck area.

Taking advantage of the situation, Julia pulls out and finishes the running while Tom still recovers from her attack.

“HA! First place!” - she makes a little dance of victory and Tom lets out a low curse.

“Hey, this wasn’t fair!” - his face still is all flushed.

“You’re such a sore loser, Sato.”

“How can I be a sore loser when you cheated?!”

“This is exactly what a sore loser would say!”

“Oh my God, you’re impossi—”

“I’m going out, kids.” - they are interrupted by Elliot as the boy crosses the living room and opens the front door of the old cabin, used to those two bantering.

“Where are you going?” - his sister promptly asks, forgetting the bickering.

“I’m going to meet Robbie. We’re going to the movies.”

“Okay, call me if you need anything! I can pick you up later—”

“Julia, it’s fine. Don’t worry about me. There are no more crazy cultists after my blood and mad grandma is gone. I’ll text you, don’t worry. You two have fun!” - and he leaves the house.

“When did he grow up so suddenly?” - she murmurs with tears in her eyes, but she soon recomposes herself. - “Anyway, where were we? Oh, right, I just defeated the unbeatable Tomoichi Sato on his favorite video game.”

“You won unfairly.” - he corrects her, but she just rolls her eyes and steps closer, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Well, what’s done is done.” - she states, her face now just inches from his. - “You know, we have the house all for ourselves—”

But before she can kiss him, Tom frees himself from her embrace and stays an arm long from her.

“I’m sorry, but cheaters aren’t allowed to get any of this.” - he points to himself and Julia groans in discontent. - “I claim for a rematch.” - and a devilishly smile spreads on his face.

Let's play ball we don't need a court

Just you and me baby full contact sport

And there's no ref to tell us to stop

So we can play until we drop

“Okay, this is unfair.”

“Why? You agreed on a rematch.” - Tom says, adjusting his glasses, that sly smirk still on his face.

“Yeah, because I thought we were going to play one of your video games again, like Street Fighter or whatever. Not that we were going to do this.” - his girlfriend explains, pointing to where they are and to the orange ball he holds. They’re standing in the middle of an empty basketball court in Swan Park. It’s a pretty sunny day and some people jog around and kids’ laughter can be heard from the playground area. - “You were part of a basketball team during your high school. This isn’t fair.”

“I just played it regularly for like, three years. And I spent one of it on the bleachers.”

“I spend my whole life on the bleachers, Tom.” - he chuckles.

“This will teach you to think twice before tickling or distracting me from my game.” - Julia grunts and they both start stretching out, their eyes locked on each other’s, defiant looks on their faces.

“So, who wins?”

“The one who gets more points, obviously. And just because you’re not used to playing it, don’t think I’m going to make it easy for you. Not after that betrayal.”

“Just shut up and let’s get this started already.”

“Guess you can defeat me?”

She smirks back at him.

“Oh, you’re on!”

After 15 minutes, they’re both panting, their eyes locked, carefully watching each other’s next movement. Tom’s winning, but Julia’s proven to be a great adversary, and she’s not too much far behind him.

“You’re not so bad like you said you are, Vance.” - he says, with the ball spinning on his point finger.

She gives him a sly smirk.

“Maybe beginner’s luck is by my side today.”

“Not for long!”

The game starts again. Tom races toward the basket, skilfully kicking the ball on the floor. She sprints closer, trying to grab the ball, but he’s dodges right on time. He flawlessly shoots the ball through the hoop.

“Damn your stupid... long arms!” - Julia curses, still a bit out of breath because of all that exercise, making her boyfriend giggle. They’ve never felt those 8 inches/20 centimetres height difference between them as much as now. - “What are you doing?!” - she asks as her boyfriend takes off his t-shirt.

“I am hot!”

“I hate you. I hate you so much.” - and mostly she hates how much she enjoys that view.

“Why? Am I too distracting to you, Vance?” - Tom smirks slyly, fully aware of what his bare chest does to her.

“You’re so dead, Sato.”

And without warning, she takes the ball and cross the court running. But soon Tom’s already hovering over her, trying to block her shoot. She can feel his chest bumping on her back as he tries to get the ball from hers.

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it? Picking a full contact sport and taking off your shirt. Who’s playing dirty now, uh?”

“Well, now you know how I feel when you tickle me! Or when you start with all those damn kisses!”

“You love those kisses!”

“Oh, crap!” - Tom curses as Julia takes advantage of her short height, easily ducking underneath his arms and shooting the ball through the hoop. Another point. - “This was a good one.”

Tom’s about to go retrieve the ball, but Julia suddenly pulls him in. It’s all so fast and intense, and she’s far stronger than she looks, and the boy ends up losing his balance.

“Ouch.” -  Tom complains when his back hits the floor, with Julia clinging onto him, showering his neck with those kisses that make his head spin.

The game is already forgotten and he kisses his demanding petite girlfriend back, his arms around her waist, flushing her closer to his chest.

“I’m not gonna apologise for this.” - she stops for a quick second, cupping his face between her hands.

“I know. ” - he grins back at her. And that’s true. He already was half expecting it. That she would in some way turn his game against him, again. And he would end up falling for it, again. He always did. And to be honest, he just pretended to be mad at her. He actually enjoyed it more than he should. - “Although this is the second time you attack me just today. And I hit my back.” - she lets out a mischievous giggle.

“Tom… No… more… games...” - Julia says between pecks on his lips, hovering over him.

“Okay, I guess that’s... enough for today.”

She grins mischievously and leans down, kissing him fully. The kiss gets heated in no time, his hands on her hips, hers on his hair, their hearts beating fast and their breaths quickening…

“Hey, this is a public area! Go find a room!” - they’re suddenly interrupted by a known voice nearby.

They immediately stop kissing and look over to where the sound of whistles and cheers come from, to find their friends there, on the other side of the court’s fence.

“Woo you go, you two!” - Imogen jumps up and down, while Parker chuckles and Danni shakes her head disapprovingly at them. Tom and Julia immediately pull apart, faces flushed.

“Parker, can’t you arrest them for, like, excess of PDA?” - Danni turns to the police officer standing beside her. - “I’m pretty sure this is indecent behavior.”

“Well, they haven’t done anything too explicit yet… and they’re just making out and are in love. Let them live, Danni.”

“I am a hundred percent sure I saw a boob grab.”

Imogen and Parker laugh loudly as the couple stands up and walks toward them.

“Uh, hey, guys! What are you doing here?” - Tom asks, his face burning with embarrassment. He’s already put his t-shirt back on.

“I was taking pictures as usual when these two showed up.”

“Today’s my day off and I like helping the Boy Scouts whenever I can.” - Parker smiles proudly.

“Well… I’ve met with a lawyer earlier today and my head was so full of everything that I needed a bit of fresh air.” - they all smile to Imogen. She surely was the one who suffered the most with all that hell that happened a few weeks ago, losing her best friend, her horse and her parents. Naturally, she inherited all her parents possessions and properties and was having to deal with the legal part of it. - “And today’s such a beautiful day, so I came in here and bumped into Parker and Danni. I was just telling them about this new restaurant that opened nearby when we heard your shouting.”

“That was a pretty intense game, guys. Well played. I didn’t know you played, Julia.”

“I don’t, but someone...” - Julia answers Parker, playfully bumping her shoulder with Tom’s. - “...is a sore loser so we were having a rematch.”

“I’m not a sore loser when you cheated to begin with!”

“So, will you come have lunch with us or what?” - Danni interrupts before they start bickering at each other again. - “I’m starving.”

They both immediately decide to go with them.

“Yay! Follow me!” - Imogen squeals and the group walks together in a relaxed pace, enjoying the shadow of the trees. - “The restaurant is right in front of the park entrance! You’ll love it! They have these killer fries and this pink lemonade—”

“Wait, wait, will we be able to pay it?”

“Of course you will! I don’t eat only on fancy restaurants, you know!” - Imogen chuckles. - “And I can pay your part if you don’t have enough money, Danni.”

“I wouldn’t accept it, but thanks, Genny.”

“Nonsense, we’re friends!”

“Anyway, my wallet thanks knowing that I can pay it.”

“Seconded.” - Parker agrees.

“Thirded.”

“Fourthed.” - Tom and Julia say. He looks down at his girlfriend with a grin, her hand interlacing with his, while he carries the ball on his other arm. They walk a bit behind. - “Guess we’ll have to put our rematch on hold.”

“‘On hold’? I clearly won. Again.” - she smirks. - “Just accept this, Sato: I won, you lost.”

"I guess you hit your head when we fell because I was winning. But what do you say we solve this next? This still isn’t over, Vance.” 

“You’re insufferable. Lucky you that you’re so darn cute and I love you.” - and she kisses his cheek, whose grin widens. - “Hey… do you want any help packing up your things tomorrow?”

The boy feels his heart shattering a little. The summer is almost over and he’s moving out of Pine Springs the next day now that all that supernatural weird stuff is gone. And he wants to spend every moment he has with Julia. And this is why they’ve been hanging out daily with each other for the past weeks, because they already miss each other. And this is why he likes teasing her to keep with that stupid playful competition between them. Because they know they’ll be months apart until they can see each other again.

“Yeah, that’d be nice. Thanks.”

“No problem.” - she smiles warmly at him, squeezing his hand tighter as they enter the restaurant. - “...But I’ll pick what we’re going to play next.”

“Okay, and what will it be?”

“Strip poker.” - she whispers on his ear and watches with satisfaction her boyfriend’s face turning a shade pinker. She bit back a laugh. - “I’m joking. I don’t even know how to play poker.”

“Oh. Okay. Good.” - he immediately seems more relaxed. - “Can you imagine? What if Elliot came back home right in the middle of the game and found ourselves in our underwear there? I guess I would die of embarrassment.”

“Haha, Elliot would probably just ignore us but lock me out of our room.” - Julia laughs as Danni yells at them:

“Hey couple! If you don’t hurry up there’ll be no seats left for your pretty asses!”

“Jeez, so bossy! We’re coming!” - she yells back before turning to her boyfriend again: - “We’ll continue this later, Sato. And you’ll play my game.”

“I can’t wait.” - he kisses her temple and they join their friends.

Well you can play my game

But I’ll put you to shame

Tagging @littlecrookedheart @pixelburied @mysticgayralsei @breaumonts @christopher-powell @madhattterusagi @noahpologiste @samira-yazdi @mysteli @indiacater @indescribablechoices @emomoustache @choices-fanatic @edgydepressedchoicesthot @violarobics @withoutanyconfidence @tiz-rex @priya-trash @alicegma @thequeenchoices @srta-give-me-my-jax-rl

[witchqueenofthemoon]

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

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

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

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

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

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

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

“I...yes, Annette. I think so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you think you can do that?”

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

“I’ll do my best, Annette.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh huh, Kenzie. Yes, baby.”

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

“Wanna come watch me get dressed, baby?”

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

------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Samuel: Miss Mackenzie, ready when you are.

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

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

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

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

“Like my Kenzie. Like a fucking angel.”

“Can you see my halo and wings still?”

“Always.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll see you in a few hours, baby.”

“Mhm, Kenzie. I love you.”

“And I, your Persephone, love you.”

“Oh, baby--”

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

-----

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

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

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

“Thank you, Samuel. To be compared to Stevie is the highest of compliments.”

“Just so.”

Chain, keep up together...Chain, keep us together…

As Samuel pulled up to the gate of the Shepherd mansion, Kenzie’s stomach did a backflip and she floated away from the strains of Christine’s high, cheerful voice: you, you make loving fun, it’s all I wanna do--Holy fuck, Kenzie thought. This is huge even for a mansion. She could see the tall Colonial-style windows over the gate, the Roman pillars extending in the doorway, a balcony above. I need to remember Duncan’s family is one of the richest in the country. Fuck. Am I ever gonna get used to this? Samuel spoke into the intercom (“Mackenzie Stone here to see Annette Shepherd,”) and the gate buzzed open. Kenzie glanced down at her phone; it was five till. She silently thanked Samuel’s magical powers of speed again. Samuel pulled up around the curving driveway to the entrance; vast double doors seemed to stare down at her with hostile judgement. Kenz, you got this. Remember the way Duncan pushed his love into you last night. The way you gathered it and moved it and made it more. You can gather it that way again, just remember that feeling. Be brave like Momby.

Kenzie breathed out, thanked Samuel (and silently, Stevie) and stepped out of the car, boots clicking on the smooth, tasteful cobble of the driveway, looking up at the house, bag slung over her shoulder, phone clutched in her palm. It was sunny and beautiful today; it was truly beginning to feel like summer. Kenzie breathed in deeply and let it out again; don’t let her get to you, no matter what she says, Kenzie. Momby wouldn’t. Duncan wouldn’t. Don’t do it.

She waved a little at Samuel before she shut the door; “I’ll text you when I’m done, is that okay, Samuel?” “Of course, Miss Mackenzie. See you later.” She turned away as it clicked shut, steeling herself again for a moment, then going up the three wide, smooth white steps to the double doors, both with opulent knobs made of embossed gold; she hesitated, unsure of the etiquette; do I knock? Kenzie reached out and turned one of the knobs, apprehensively, peeking her head slowly into the interior of the house. Inside, it was as opulent a place as she had ever seen; if Duncan’s penthouse was spotless, you could eat a steak off the floor of the foyer of this house; Kenzie felt immediately far too ordinary to be here; too flawed, too insecure, and far too human. She toyed with the idea of running out, waving Samuel down and speeding off. But that, of course, was impossible.

A woman came towards her, beckoning sternly. She was very tall (probably taller than Duncan, Kenzie thought, reminded of Harris) and had hair so blonde it was almost white; it was pulled back into a very tight bun that looked painful to Kenzie, and her face was done up with carefully-applied, subdued makeup, her thin, nude-lipsticked lips pressed together tightly. She wore a very tight, very neat pantsuit in dark gray with low black kitten heels, and she looked very strong, with wide shoulders and hips. “Mackenzie Stone, come here.” Her voice had a slight accent, one that Kenzie couldn’t place. Danish? Swedish? “I am Ingrid. They are in the South Wing.” Kenzie jumped inside, pulling the big door shut behind her; the foyer was eerily quiet but for a huge grandfather clock swinging in one corner. Ingrid beckoning with a short motion again; “Come, now, thank you.”

Kenzie stepped quickly behind the woman, who moved very fast and almost noiselessly; I bet this woman could kill someone easily without ever getting caught, Kenzie thought with a chill. I guess Annette needs people like that around her. Ingrid led her around the right side of the curving double staircase, down a hallway hidden behind it, towards the far end of the mansion; if Duncan has one Bouguereau original, I can’t even contemplate how many of these are authentic, Kenzie thought, gazing around at the paintings that adorned the walls (they seemed to mostly be a mixture of Impressionist and Modern art--but there’s nothing here as beautiful as The Youth of Bacchus, she thought, it’s the most beautiful painting I have ever seen, and my boyfriend OWNS it), the sconces and shelves that held Ming vases and sculptures and china and embossed books. Ingrid turned a corner sharply, then opened a long white door (another embossed gold knob) to a round, wide parlor room, modified to look like a dressing room, with a round dais in the center and several mannequins along one wall, a few very beautiful Regent-style white-and-gold armchairs littered here and there; Kenzie saw Annette stretched languidly in one of them, dressed in a flawless cream-colored wrap dress with a black sash tied at her waist, her perfectly styled hair falling down her shoulder, her expression hidden by the angle, and a man with a very bright floral scarf, a shiny bald head and very long false eyelashes standing with a hip cocked facing the doorway, gesturing at her flamboyantly and telling a story, animatedly.

“--I said honey-bun, you don’t get to tell me what the fuck I’m going to do, I tell you what the fuck I’m going to do, then you give me the time I need to fucking do it.” The man cocked his head, batting his lashes. Annette let out a little barking laugh. “Needless to say, I--” The man broke off, noticing Ingrid at the door, and Kenzie hovering behind her.

Annette glanced back. “Oh. Mackenzie. You’re actually on time.”

Uhhhhh. Kenzie’s hands came up to the star necklace, noticing her hand was trembling. What would have happened if I wasn’t?

“Thank you, Ingrid, you can shut the door.”

Ingrid gave Annette a curt nod, and gave Kenzie a long glance as she left, her eyes going from Kenzie’s feet up her body to her hair around her shoulders and down again, a judging glint in her cold eyes. Yep, you got it, I’m fucking Duncan, you’re right, Kenzie thought. Stare away, make sure I have the right genetics and the birthing hips and my boobs are the right size. I wonder what Annette will say when she hears I don’t want to have kids, ha! The door shut behind the woman with a loud, clean click, and the man in the eyelashes came toward Kenzie, pressing his hands theatrically to his cheeks.

“My, my, my, what a little cupcake you are.” He reached for her hands and Kenzie extended her palms into his, her cheeks burning with apprehension. “A little rose petal, a babydoll blooming bud, a teensy slice of delectable red velvet. I’ll bet he’s been nibbling at you night and day.”

“Erik, that’s enough,” Annette said, and Kenzie glanced over to her to see an expression of sharp annoyance in her eyes; whatever mirth may have been on Annette’s face a moment ago was gone, replaced with a calculating neutrality.

“Lord, Annette, as if you can’t see why he’s absolutely head-over-heels.” Erik rolled his eyes, letting Kenzie go, giving her a little wink that Annette couldn’t see from where she sat. Kenzie pressed her lips together tightly, trying not to smile. I like him. “She’s like a tiny little princess in a fairy tale. Snow White. Rose Red. Princess Peach. I’m Erik, sweet thing. And you’re Mackenzie. And this is Annette--oh, you knew that, of course.” Erik turned to Annette, giving her a long look and a coy smile.

“Mackenzie, come here, we have a lot of work to do and I have a meeting at 3,” Annette said to her curtly, standing up and beckoning to the dais. “Erik needs to take your measurements, and then we need to discuss a color palette.”

“I’m thinking mod,” Erik gestured vaguely towards Kenzie’s hips, flicking his wrist. “Like Edie Sedgwick at a Renaissance fair.” Annette made an exasperated noise from the back of her throat as Kenzie came up beside her, heart pounding, and grasped Kenzie’s arm suddenly with a tight, pinching grip, pushing her onto the dais. “Measurements, please, Erik. Mackenzie, hold still.”

Erik spent the next ten minutes or so pressing a measuring tape along Kenzie’s body as she moved as he told her to; Kenzie looked down from Annette’s appraising gaze, which seemed as cold and heavy as ice; she tried to remember the warmth that had spread around the table over dinner last night, but it slipped away from her, just beyond her grasp; without Duncan there, Kenzie felt lost inside her doubt, caught in the approximate, austere eyes of his mother. I doubt those comments from Erik helped warm her heart to me today, Kenzie thought, exasperated. Her stomach felt sour and she contemplated asking for a glass of water, but Annette’s frown deterred her. She remembered Annette didn’t know she’d moved into Duncan’s penthouse yet; oh fuck, she’s really gonna love that one. Annette’s quietness unnerved her--who knew what Duncan’s mother was thinking behind her dark-well eyes. Erik fussed over her, as if to fill the silence between them: “Look at your tiny little hourglass! Those hips, my dear, absolutely to die for. A pity you’re not a little taller, then again, Madeline was never known for her height, was she. How is she these days, by the way?”

“Very well, thanks for asking.” Kenzie’s eyes slid to Annette, who raised her eyebrows, then back to Erik, who was pressing the measuring tape along her bust with careful precision; he had clearly done this a thousand times before her, and his interest in her breasts was completely non-existent beyond the practicality of his duties. “She’s retired now. We had a wonderful time with her the other night.” She looked at Annette again for a moment, seeing the angry flash in the other woman’s eyes; kicking the hornet’s nest, Kenz, she scolded herself, but it was too late; heat was rising behind her temples. I am good enough for your son, Annette. You may never think so, but that doesn’t fucking matter. You’re going to accept me eventually because your son loves me and that’s not going to change. This is our destiny. He said so himself to me. He knows it too. I may not be the trust-fund heiress to an oil company in Texas you would have chosen for him, but I’m the one for him, tough shit.

Erik seemed to have finished his measurements, taking note of them on a little yellow notepad with a fountain pen in his manicured fingers; “Annette, what do you think for colors. I’m thinking black and white with a gold embellishment.”

“I don’t fucking care,” Annette said, her tone biting. She sat in the armchair facing Kenzie, eyes falling down Kenzie’s small form; half-full of resentment, half a simmering superiority.

“Ummmmm,” Erik said, rolling his eyes a little again. “Honey, you’re the one who insisted she do this with you in the first place.” Kenzie gave him a grateful look.

“Mackenzie, I hope you understood how serious I was last night,” Annette said, ignoring Erik. Kenzie bit into the inside of her cheek, willing herself to stay calm. “If you are offered another article in the nature of the one published on Friday, you will turn it down.”

“Annette, with all due respect, I’m a journalist working for a liberal publication. I’m not a Republican, and dating Duncan doesn’t suddenly make me a centrist. Maybe you should ask Duncan what he really wants for the company in the first place, since he’s going to be helping you run it soon.” The words tumbled out of her, and Kenzie immediately bit her lip, fumbling her hands together. Oh fuck, Kenz. What was that.

A cold pallor fell over Annette’s face; it made Kenzie’s blood chill in her veins. Erik’s mouth snapped shut and he raised his eyebrows, a little hiss of air escaping his lips. Annette sat up very straight in the chair, setting her hands on the armrests with her fingers tightly curled. “He told you that, did he,” she hissed.

“Yes. We’re together now. I deserve to know about his life.” Kenzie tried to quell the tremble that had started in her hands; adrenaline pumped through her, making her feel as though she’d just taken a hit of weed. “You seem determined to hate me, Annette, but I don’t hate you at all. I wish you could see that Duncan doesn’t want what you want; that he’s sensitive and good and kind and wants to be surrounded by real things, beautiful things. He just wants to be loved, just wants to love--and we love each other. Why would you try to deny him of that?”

“I don’t have time for this today.” Annette stood, eyes blazing. “Mackenzie, if you speak a word of what Duncan has told you to anyone, I will make sure you seriously regret it. Erik, get her a fucking dress, I don’t give a shit what it looks like. Give her a fucking brown bag to wear for all I care.” She stormed out the door, slamming it behind her.

“Oh, honey, you are Madeline Stone’s daughter, aren’t you?” Erik turned to Kenzie, a grin falling over his features, his long eyelashes batting at her. “She had that coming; and you have nerves of steel.”

“Not really feeling like it at the moment,” Kenzie said, voice audibly shaking. Now that she had started to come down from the adrenaline, she felt woozy and sick.

“So, what do you want to wear?” He pressed a finger to the side of his face.

Kenzie tried to clear her head, her mind frenzied and racing from the exchange with Annette; then, like clouds parting to the sun, she thought of the one friend who had been a constant in her life since they were in middle school; their friendship carrying her through high school and shitty jobs and college and a breakup and her bumpy first year at the Post when her self-doubt had been at an all-time high. Clairebear. Morgan Winthrop.

“My...my best friend Claire. She works for a designer. Morgan Winthrop.”

“Oh, honey, I know Morgan. We go way back. We used to go to Studio 54 together. You want Morgan to make your dress?”

“I--Yes. Yes I do.” Kenzie tossed her head back, pushing her chin out. To hell with this. It’s my life and my relationship and if I have to go to this Gala, I want to wear what I want to wear. The theme is based on me after all. Gold in the darkness. He said it was based on me. That it’s for me. It’s me.

“Darling, I think that’s marvelous.” Erik tucked his head down to her conspiratorially. “I can see why you’d be drawn to Morgan’s aesthetic. And I think she’d know just what to do for you. A little birdy told me Duncan based the theme on you, a little slice of starlight--little golden moonbeam that you are. I’ve never seen him this way. You’ve gotten down under his skin, babydoll. You’re in the soul of him, now.”

“So...you’ll help me?”

“Darling. In a minute. I want to see that boy happy. And Annette does, too. She just needs to realize that. With your help, I have a sneaky suspicion that won’t take as long as one might have thought. You’re a bold little burst of fresh air.”

Kenzie hopped down from the dias, heart pounding, and went to the armchair where she’d placed her convertible bag, pulling her phone in its gold case out, opening her contacts to Clairebear. She hit the call button, raising the phone to her ear. Claire picked up after two rings. “Hello, Kenzie? Is everything okay?”

“Clairebear, I need your help. I need Morgan’s help. I need Morgan to make my dress for the Shepherd Freedom Foundation Gala. And I need it to be the most amazing fucking dress of all time.”

[deztinywarriors]

The Linked Charms - Episode 27 (Multi Liverpool players)

[takaraphoenix]

Malace and/or Hunter/Hayden/Jack. “The salad here is really good.” - “Do I look like a fucking rabbit?”

Advent Calendar: Day 17

It was the second day of Christmas and Magnus was comfortably sitting on the terrace of their ski resort, with a hot chocolate and a hot archer. Alec was relaxed as he leaned against Magnus, soaking in Magnus’ warmth as the two sat outside in the cold, watching the frozen lake behind the ski resort. Or, more precisely, watching their blonde lover dance over the ice.

“I didn’t know Jace could skate”, hummed Magnus, very pleased by the show.

“Him and Izzy used to go skating every winter”, replied Alec. “But I… uh… guess I was a bit of a klutz when it comes to that, so I just left that to them.”

“I’d love to see you be graceless for a change”, teased Magnus amused, kissing Alec.

“No, you will not”, grunted Alec rather firmly. “Enjoy Jace looking pretty and let me drink my hot chocolate in peace, I’m not keen on gathering bruises for your amusement.”

Magnus laughed at that, pulling Alec some closer. Alec sighed contently. This was potentially the best idea Magnus and Jace ever had in their lives. A two week vacation over Christmas and New Year’s, just the three of them. No responsibilities, no demons, only ski, snow and the two men he loved so very much. They had only arrived here yesterday, but had mainly just checked in and gotten settled in their room. It was a nice room, with a very large bed and a large tub. They had first enjoyed the large tub and then curled up on the bed together, just lazily making out and then falling asleep in each other’s arms. This morning was kicked off with a large breakfast buffet before the threesome headed out to ski half the day. When they returned, both Magnus and Alec were exhausted and decided to retreat to the terrace, while Jace decided he needed some more exercise so he went to skate on the frozen lake behind the ski resort. Right in view of the terrace.

“Mh? Where did our pretty puppy go?”, asked Magnus with a frown.

He had been a bit distracted by Alec and the thought of this morning. By the time he returned his attention to the lake, there were only one couple and three children on it. No pretty blonde.

“He—ello, boyfriends. I am both exhausted and hungry.”

Magnus blinked as Jace collapsed on his lap, sprawling out to lay over both his and Alec’s laps. He pulled his legs up and curled together, contently resting his head on Alec’s thigh. Smiling, Magnus reached a hand out to caress the back of Jace’s thighs gently, making Jace sigh.

“You were absolutely gorgeous, sweetheart”, smiled Magnus. “I didn’t know you were this talented. You should have told me. I feel robbed of a lot of aesthetically pleasing performances…”

Jace huffed amused and folded his arms beneath his cheek, while Alec started running his fingers through Jace’s golden-blonde hair. “You said something about hunger? Or do you just want to lay there and cuddle for now…? You look very content.”

“…Cuddles now, food later, more cuddles afterward?”, suggested Jace thoughtfully.

“Sounds like an absolutely perfect plan”, agreed Magnus pleased.

/break\

“So, what’s good here?”, asked Jace curiously when the three entered the restaurant at the resort.

“The salad here is really good”, offered Magnus casually.

“…Do I look like a fucking rabbit?”, asked Jace pointedly. “I want food. Proper human food. I need proteins, or where do you think all of that comes from?”

He placed Magnus’ hand on his stomach and the warlock made a hungry, pleased sound as he got to feel Jace’s six-pack beneath the thin shirt. Alec cleared his throat and pushed between his boyfriends, glaring at Jace, who just grinned smugly and shrugged.

“They have amazing rumpsteak”, offered Magnus now instead.

“Mh. Better”, purred Jace pleased and licked his lips.

“Yes. But you now gave me the perfect idea for… dessert”, purred Magnus.

“Both of you. Please behave yourselves”, sighed Alec exasperated.

“But you love us for it”, countered Jace with a cheeky, knowing grin.

“And we both know that you want dessert as much as I do”, tagged Magnus on.

Alec grumbled but did not argue. Of course he did. Jace was delicious. So was Magnus. He loved them both and he also loved their minds. As dirty as they were, because they were also very thoughtful and loving. The fact that those two had worked hard to make time for all three of them to go on a two week vacation together, with no one work to interrupt them. Something calm and relaxing, because Alec had overworked himself so much.

“I love you two”, whispered Alec softly. “I love you both very much.”

“And we love you, darling”, replied Magnus surprised.

“Of course we do”, huffed Jace. “And you don’t need to butter Mag up for him to pay dinner.”

Magnus snorted at that and smacked Jace’s ass in passing, making the blonde yelp. “You can pay for dinner afterward in our room, blondie.”

“With pleasure”, purred Jace and waggled his eyebrows.

/break\

“Oh by the Angel, how was this so good?”, groaned Jace.

“I don’t know. But I don’t think I will be able to move again any time soon”, gasped Alec.

“…I feel mildly offended that it was food making you sound like that and not me”, grunted Magnus.

The warlock raised both eyebrows as he watched bis boyfriends sprawl out on bed, both only wearing boxer-shorts and Alec’s shirts. Alec grinned up at him while wrapping his arms around Jace’s waist to pull the blonde closer. Jace gladly snuggled up to Alec, resting his head on Alec’s chest and sighing contently at the way Alec was caressing his stomach soothingly.

“Shut up and come join us, Mag”, grunted Jace, scooting closer to Alec to make room.

Admittedly, Magnus had also eaten too much. It was quite excellent food they had here. He hadn’t been at this resort in a while and had Imogen not reminded him of it, he might have forgotten about it entirely. The last time, he had been here with Catarina and Ragnor…

“Very well. A little rest sounds like a good plan”, admitted Magnus and shed his clothes.

He too went to grab one of Alec’s shirts – they were absolutely excellent for sleeping in – before he joined his lovers in the bed. He smiled as he laid down behind Jace and pressed up against the blonde, resting his chin on top of Jace’s head.

“Thank you”, whispered Alec softly after a moment. “You know, I feel rather cheap about my gift after you two organized a two week vacation at a fancy spa.”

“Eh. I only did the organizing and the whole Shadowhunters-side of it. Magnus is doing all the paying”, shrugged Jace casually before reaching beneath his shirt. “Besides, I love it.”

“So do I, darling”, assured Magnus, reaching for his own necklace beneath his shirt.

Arrow-years, covered in gold, with a tiger-eye set front and center. Meant to symbolize all three of them – the arrow for Alec, the gold for Jace’s golden-glowing eyes and runes (and his golden-blonde hair), the tiger-eye for Magnus’ warlock-mark. It was thoughtful and beautiful and both Magnus and Jace truly loved it. Smiling, Magnus leaned over to kiss Alec.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?”, asked Jace with a sleepy yawn.

“More skiing, more cuddling, more good food?”, suggested Magnus. “More sex?”

“Oh, that sounds so good”, groaned Jace happily. “No work. No one stealing either of you.”

Alec smiled faintly, pressing a kiss to Jace’s forehead. Yes, it really did sound amazing.

Read this here on FFNet & here on AO3!

[aesoswrit]

Smoxin Smash

A LONG overdue fic for a dear colleague here on Tumblr. @daretina, this one is for you. I hope I got Toxin right... ;) thank you for your patience, and I hope you enjoy this little bit of fluff.

(Rated G - Fluff, Comfort, Mild suggestive)

—————

Toxin walked into the common room, shared by the SAS crew. She was beat, exhausted and sore all over her body. Their mission was a success, but only just barely. One misstep nearly cost them the mission.

She hadn't bothered to change out of her jumpsuit, and she didn't really care to right now. It wasn't even dirty, per say. She slumped into a plush single seater, and practically passed out. The female operator wasn't there more than five minutes before Smoke and Sledge walked in from the hall. Sledge noticed Toxin first, and gently backhanded Smoke on the shoulder and silently pointed to her. Smoke smiled at the sight of her, relieved that she was alright.

Sledge mumbled something about leaving a coffee machine on, did an about face, and left the room. Smoke shook his head, but silently thanked the Scotsman. He made a mental note to buy the man a drink next time they were down at the pub.

Smoke took off his fingerless training gloves and stuffed them in his back pocket as he walked up behind Toxin. She didn't even budge when he leaned over the back of the chair and gave her a peck on the forehead. That made her stir a little, but it didn't wake her up. His hands settled on her shoulders, and he gently started to massage them. This outward display of affection was both awkward, but so very welcome right now.

She hummed, as his hands squeezed at the sore and tense muscles. Some of the tension she had been holding on to immediately started to ebb away from her. He kept massaging while he leaned back down and kissed her cheek from the side. “You look a little worse for wear love. Don’t worry, I’ll get you right sorted.”

“How’s it that you know just what I need, Porter?” Imogen asked, her eyes still closed.

“Gotta keep my lady satisfied, right?” he replied cheekily.

“Oh, you do… no need to worry about that.”

“Then what’s got you so knackered?” he asked, hoping she would talk to him, and get it off her mind. “Who do I have to kill love… just say the word an’ I’ll…”

“No one, James.” She smiled and cut him off, chuckling lightly. “It was just a stressful mission, more so than usual.”

“Why’s that then?”

“Just… I don’t know. It’s like the team wasn’t meshing. Something was off, and it was affecting everything. Comms were faulty too, so that didn’t help us at all. Twitch tried to fix what she could, but…” She groaned, clearly exasperated. “We almost set the bloody detonator off, accidently even. Would have killed half the team too. I just don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“No worries, love.” Smoke thought a moment, and came up with a solution. “Come on… Let’s get you out of your jumpsuit, into something more comfy.”

“Not now James, please.”

“No no… not like that. I mean just get you out of your gear. I want to take you somewhere.”

“Where’s that?” Toxin asked, not wanting to get up because it meant that this wonderful massage would end.

“If I told you, it would ruin the surprise now, wouldn’t it?” Smoke grinned. She was going to love this.

“Fine… I’m in.” she sighed and reluctantly got up.

He walked her to her room and then just waited outside her door, leaning up against the wall. Any other time of day, and he would have followed her in, but it was chow time, and there were operators everywhere, on their way to the mess.

“Almost ready!” came Toxin’s muffled voice from inside her room. She’d changed out of her gear, and into some relaxed civvies. The tank top she wore was a muted blue, set with her charcoal capri pants.

“Lookin’ as fine as ever, love.” Smoke grinned.

“Keep it in your trousers Porter.” she jokingly warned.

“Won’t be able to for long with you lookin so grand.” Came his husky reply.

“Seriously James…”

“I am!” he retorted, sounding mock offended. “Now, let’s go, before the others catch wind that we’re leavin. The cab’s waiting outside.”

Jumping in the waiting cab, the pair sat as close as they could in the back seat. Their hands intertwined, and it was a wonderful comfort for Imogen.

“Here we are then.” The cabby stated, as he pulled up to a curb. They were outside a nondescript building, in the middle of town.

Smoke payed the man, and they both got out. He grabbed Toxin’s hand again and let her down a set of stairs, and through a doorway. There was no signage, or anything.

“Where the hell are we James?”

“Patience love. Almost there now.”

After walking down a well-lit hallway, they came to the front counter. Behind it, on the wall were the words ‘Rage On!’ in an angry, red font.

Toxin’s eyebrows furrowed and she looked at Smoke, confused. He winked at her and took out some cash, to pay the teen behind the counter.

The kid looked up after sorting the change. “Smocks are over there, goggles on the counter. Suit up while I go set up for you.”

The pair walked over and Smoke handed her a suit. It was pretty much a hazmat suit, but not as contained, like the kind the clean-up techs wore after Rainbow had cleared a building. True to the teen’s words, there were some lab style goggles on the counter. They each grabbed a pair, and put them on. The teen walked out a few moments later, and motioned for them to enter through the door he was standing in.

Smoke let Toxin go first and she walked in.

Inside, the room was filled with objects. Breakable ones. Plates on little stands, mugs, vases, even an old tube TV… There were more things in here than she could count.

Hanging on the wall to their right was an assortment of bludgeoning objects. A baseball bat, crowbar, hockey stick, lead pipe and even a sledge hammer. Not quite as big as Sledge’s, but still pretty hefty.

Smoke crossed his arms and nodded his head to the wall. “Pick your weapon.”

Toxin just stood there and stared for a moment. “What?”

“Grab something, and start swinging. This is a rage room. Everything in here is meant to be destroyed. Take your frustration out on the things in here. Scream, yell, vent away love.”

Catching on, Toxin smiled and walked over to the weapons wall. She looked at each of them and settled on the crowbar. She picked it up and hefted it, testing its weight. Turning around, she gazed at the objects. Pulling the crowbar behind her, she swung low. Three plates fell beneath the blow. Smoke just stood in the corner and watched. This was all for her.

With a yell, she swung for a nearby vase. It was obliterated, shattered pieces of ceramic flew everywhere. The crowbar became a blur.

“Stupid technology.” A mug soared across the room and shattered on the wall.

“Fucking terrorists!” Two small figures met a swift end.

Her next yell devolved into an incoherent garble as she headed for the massive TV. The curve of the bar split through the screen, and the crowbar wedged inside. She put her foot on the TV and wrenched the bar out. She went back to the wall, set the crowbar on its hook and grabbed the sledge.

Her ferocity picked up again, and she barreled for the TV, hammer trailing behind her. With the momentum she had gathered, she swung the hammer up, and brought it down satisfyingly hard, crushing through the plastic of the casing.

Again, and again, she swung, destroying the old electronic.

When she couldn’t heave the hammer anymore. She set it down, head first on the ground. Her hands came to rest on the base of the handle. “Now I know why Sledge loves his hammer.” She told him, between pants and huffs of breath.

“Feel better now?” he asked her, taking the hammer and placing it back along the wall.

“I do, actually.” She breathed a sigh of relief. She put her arms around Smoke’s waist and snuggled in. “Thank you James. That was exactly what I didn’t know I needed.”

“Well, you said it yourself… I always know what you need.” He remarked, holding her close.

“Do you know what I need next then?” she quipped, looking up to his eyes through the silly goggles.

“That, I do, love… but we can’t do that here.” He replied with a wink.

[redditnosleep]

O is for Olivia

by OnyxOctopus

It wasn’t even snowing when I left for work but by the time I was halfway there, the roads were coated in ice. People were sliding around like real-life bumper cars and there were accidents blocking every path to the office. With all roads blocked, I decided to just give up and turn for home.

I was being cautious, creeping along in my little Echo at about 15 miles per hour. Down the road a stretch, I spotted a Toyota truck coming towards me around a curve, fast. He had to be going at least 70 miles per hour. He seemed, at first, to be flying by on my left. Then, he was sliding sideways in a long, silver smear.

It’s true that time slows down when you are about to die. I saw the clock click from 7:25 to 7:26. I looked at my hands, noticing every vein, every line. Heard the words of the Imogen Heap song I was listening to, “Where are we? What the hell is going on?“ I thought, “I can get out of this.” Looked right: cement utility pole, ditch, looked left: silver pickup truck. I thought, “I really can’t get out of this.“ I saw particles of dust seeming to glow, suspended, in the air.

Then there was crunching and spinning and glass and spinning and pain and then - suddenly darkness.

I was alone in the darkness for a while, and then I wasn’t alone. Darkness, heavy but awake, consuming me. I somehow was the darkness, and yet I was still very much myself. Or, I should say, I recognized myself in the darkness. Then I heard a rush of whispers and long low whistles. As the sounds grew louder, waves became particles and two forms started to appear. Mine, and hers. A shifting, swirling woman was standing in front of me. Like blowing smoke into a sunbeam that’s coming through a gap in the curtains. Smoke all around, but only seen as it swirls through the sunbeam. She was like that. I could see that she had shoulder length brown hair, and she was wearing a light blue shirt and white pants. She appeared to be rather tall, but not as tall as me. I was watching her patterns shift and swirl when she spoke.

“Olivia?”

“I’m…I…yes, I… Who are you?” Not too eloquent, but that’s what I said.

“You can think of me as Mora.“ I could hear her, even though her mouth wasn’t making noise when she spoke.

“How…?” I gestured around us at the endless, swirling black.

“Everything is happening at once. All at once, right now. The leading edge is the same as the very end of the line,” she answered. The more she spoke, the more she seemed to be slowly unraveling.

“I don’t know what that means.“

“That’s ok.”

“But, I mean, what’s going on?“ I was getting dizzy trying to focus on her as she shifted in and out of form. It was making me impatient.

“The universe itself is afraid of its own end. Consciousness in form is the universe’s way of awakening to its own immortality. In the silence of the void, there is a voice. The voice listening to itself. The voice realizing it IS the void, and the void is alive. There is circle after circle of understanding. Do you understand?”

“No.“

“That’s ok.”

I waited for her to say something else, but she was silent. She was evaporating into a horizontal mist. Looking down I saw that I was starting to do the same.

“Why are you telling me these things?“ I asked, distracted again by the swirling particles.

“Because we need you. So I need you to wake up.”

As soon as she said, “wake up,” I felt myself being pulled like a yo-yo on a string. Snapping backwards in the darkness. I watched my own particles blowing away from me like dust. Leaving a mist trail in what appeared to be a long, dark tunnel. Then the darkness shifted to the familiar darkness that lives behind my eyes. I felt my body, my real solid body, and then I felt the pain. Next, I noticed I was suffocating. Warm, humid, air was breathing itself for me through a respirator. I must have started to flail around in my panic because I was given a shot and then I fell asleep.

When I woke up again, the doctor told me I lost consciousness after impact. I was rushed to surgery for internal injuries. Apparently I ‘died’ on the operating table. They “shocked me back” and put me on life support. The accident broke my sternum, three ribs, my right knee, and resulted in severe closed head trauma. Because of my internal injuries, they had to remove a nice chunk of bowel. I mimed, “I want to write", by using a finger to scribble over the opposite palm. The doctor pulled a pad and pen out of his pocket and handed it to me. His eyes were a dusty shade of blue, the color of cornflowers.

“When can I go back to work"? I wrote.

“That’s tricky", he said. “We’ve left you with essentially what we’d call short gut syndrome which can result in intermittent incontinence. Head injuries such as yours often result in severe migraines. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves though. You’re going to get stronger every day, I promise. Let’s get you off this respirator and take it one step a time. Sound good?” No. It did not sound good. With no family of my own, my job was my life. Still, I nodded. What else was there to do?

I was on the respirator for two more warm, wet, and suffocating days, then I was moved to the room that would be my home for the next seven weeks.

A few days after moving to the new room, I was lying on my bed, feeling loopy from the morphine drip and thinking about drinking orange juice. The cup was just out of reach on my bedside table. I remember feeling a wave of injustice and anger come over me. Not about the accident, or my injuries, or being stuck in a hospital unable to work, possibly forever. No. I was angry about not being able to reach the orange juice. I was fucking furious at the orange juice. I was glaring at it, with everything I had, and then- BOOM! It exploded. Orange juice flying absolutely everywhere.

That was the first time I used my mind to blow something up. Honestly, it was exhilarating. I spent the next seven weeks popping gauze pads, glycerin swabs, any little thing that wouldn’t make too much of a mess.

The first person I looked up after I got out of the hospital was the driver of the silver Toyota. He was picked up for felony reckless driving, but let go on a technicality. I did some digging. I was a paralegal before my injuries forced me to take long-term disability so I knew my way around court documents. It also didn’t hurt that I was good friends with a few of the clerks at court. It turns out I wasn’t the first person he’d seriously hurt. His connections just kept finding him loopholes to skip through.

I decided I should find him in person. Maybe this guy just looked bad on paper? Maybe he’d apologize? I was hoping for any redeeming quality. Nope. When I told him who I was he laughed and said, “were you this ugly before I hit you?” Then, he dropped to the floor, holding his head and screaming. He got what he deserved, a Subarachnoid Hemorrhage from an aneurysm exploding in his brain. Nasty things, those. So sad.

Three days later, I let myself into my apartment only to find a man sitting at my dining room table. He was wearing an expensive looking suit and smoking a cigarette. He had obviously been there a while because smoke was swirling around him in a thick haze. I suppose I should have been shocked or terrified. The truth is I was expecting it.

“Can I help you?”

He looked up from a mess of open folders and said, “Olivia, come here, I need you to take a look at this.”

I blinked, hard, and then I walked over to the table.

“Can I ask your name?”

“Mr. W. Olivia, take a look at these pictures.” I looked over his shoulder at four open folders with pictures splayed out in piles. I can’t, no, I won’t, tell you what I saw the people in those pictures doing. Imagine for a moment the worst abuse to the most innocent of victims, and you might have a pretty good idea.

“Olivia, What I have here is a four-way split video call. You’ll see that our agents have these four suspects in custody. Can you positively match the person on each screen to the pictures on the table in front of you?”

I looked from the pictures to the screens one at a time. Carefully. There were three men and one woman. Each of the agents was wearing the same blue shirt and white pants Mora had worn.

“Yes.”

I haven’t mentioned my childhood, and I won’t go into detail about it. What I will say is that the woman on the screen bore a striking resemblance to my mother’s best friend, Marie. Same red hair, freckles, green eyes. Marie hurt me, just like the woman on the screen had hurt the child in the pictures spread across her file. The child who bore a striking resemblance to me: blonde hair, brown eyes, freckles.

“Ok, Olivia. Please understand that these people have not been convicted of any crime. In fact, they aren’t being tried. These pictures were obtained illegally so they are not admissible in court. They are innocent until proven guilty. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

I looked back at the monitor and watched as each of them fell like marionettes being cut from their strings. One after the other, until all four were lying on the floor clutching their heads, screaming.

Mr. W looked up at me, his eyes squinting in a genuine smile. “Welcome to Moirai, Olivia. We are so happy to have you.“

That was seven years ago. I’m 33 now, and I’m getting better every day. More precise. I’ve been practicing. Mr. W tells me that they will be needing me more than ever in the days to come. I’d ask you to wish me luck, but I don’t need it. I have been getting stronger every day.

I’m strong enough now.

[speaknvw]

reputation - album review

insp. by outofthewoods, i’m gonna do a full review of the album during my first time listening to it :) even tho no one’s gonna read this

i’m lowkey comparing it to red because of the amount of people from secret sessions saying it’s better than red and red has been my favorite since well.. 2012

and i’m gonna include my rankings at the end

…READY FOR IT

(i think this only fits as the first track because i don’t see where else it would fit in with the album)

personally only like the chorus of this song but i 100% stan the music video of course and my WIG flew //

END GAME

BITHC DFJSJKFHD i personally love taylor’s parts and i of course love ed’s parts although this is quite a contrast to everything has changed, but nonetheless i love the beat and i love the concept of the song.

“i swear i don’t love drama, it loves me” my WIG MF FLEW MISS SWIFT.

//

I DID SOMETHING BAD

“if a man talks shit then i owe him nothing” OH YES HONEY. THDJSHVJKSDC THIS SONG IS GIVING ME GOOSEBUMPS SIS THE CHORUS HAS ME QUAKING ALL THE WAY TO PLUTO.

THE BEAT DROP DURING THE CHORUS GIVES ME EVEN MORE GOOSEBUMPS EVERYTIME IT PLAYS IF THATS EVEN POSSIBLE DJFSJDK

THIS IS 100% ON MY TOP 5 FOR BOPS. I’D BOP TO THIS EVERYDAY. AND THE BRIDGE EHFSFJEHUKJK

//

DON’T BLAME ME

“don’t blame me love made me crazy” honey… it made all of us crazy

idk for some reason the lyrics remind me of bey? i’m not really sure why

i ADORE HER VOICE IN THIS SONG.

i’m not really sure how i really overall feel about this song but i love the vocals in this song and i feel if i listened more closely to the lyric’s i could stan it more

//

DELICATE

the beginning. omg. imogen vibes??? yes. 

THE MF BEAT HSJKHEUWHERENJWKEK

OMGFDJKFS THE PRE-CHORUS FCUK ME???? DEADASS BYE

ISN’T IT DELICATE

“stay here i don’t wanna share” sdjfsdfhjuhfn i wanna cry because of that

“I PRETEND YOU’RE MINE ALL THE DAMN TIME” THAT’S THR BIGGEST MOOD KFJSKND

this song is def calmer than the rest of these songs

//

LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO

i remember when this dropped and how shook i was

and i remember shaking when the chorus came on bC JDSKFK

I CAN ALREADY TELL THIS IS GONNA HAVE SOME BOMB ASS CHOREO ON TOUR

i can def see why this was chosen to be the first/comeback single because of what the concept of the song is (i mean i think everyone does)

and from this song i was kinda expecting an album about well.. her reputation.. i guess?? but after the other two singles i wasn’t too sure what was coming BUT

NONETHELESS i adore this song and it honestly feels a little short in comparison to the rest

//

SO IT GOES…

in the beginning i was a little iffy about the chorus but i love the verses.

“i make all your grey days clear” “I’m so chill but you make me jealous”

“but I got your heart skipping when i’m gone”

WOW MISS SWIFT REALLY MADE MY WIG FLY WITH THESE LINES. NGL.

but listening to these lyrics help realize how the chorus fits in

side note: when i first saw the track list i honestly thought of you are in love (which is my favorite song from 1989) and the verse where she says “and so it goes, you two are dancing in a snow globe round and round”)

//

GORGEOUS

i love the concept of this song but i don’t know if i LOVE it,, does that make any sense??

and i loved reading people’s posts on twitter/tumblr about their conspiracy theories of this song

and i relate to this song when i see ppl who r beautiful but i’m too much of a pussy to say shit to them

and i wish i knew why she chose this as a single

//

GETAWAY CAR

wow. just wow. THSEJFEHNRJRE THE FUKCJNGJBN BEGINNING OH MYOOGFDI I WANNA CRY

THIS SOBNG IS SO GOOD WOW

“i wanted to leave him, i needed a reason” 

THE FUCKING CHORUS I LOVE IT I LOVE IT I LOVE IT

I LOVE THE VIBES THIS SONG GIVES OFF

THE TYPE OF MUSIC ID LISTEN TO DURING A ROADTRIP TBH?? AND NOT JUST BC OF THE TITLE

but wow i love her voice in this song jsjfnejr it reminds me of something but i can’t put my finger on it

“there were sirens in the beat of your heart” oH MY GOD this line. 

THE BRIDGE WOW IM LITERALLY IN TEARS RIGHR NOW

THINK ABOUT THE WHERE PLACE YOU FIRST MET ME

NO NOTHING GOOD STARTS IN A GETAWAY CAR

//

KING OF MY HEART

i love the beginning fuckfjd<3 though i.. don’t exactly like the beat but i do like the lyrics and i love how she told the ppl at ss how each lyric is a diff stage of her relationship. i love how she did that.

the chorus reminds me of getaway car a bit

change my priorities wow

i don’t know i just don’t really connect w this song but i think some of the lyrics are cute and soft like old taylor :)

//

DANCING WITH OUR HANDS TIED

the piano oh?? THE BEAT OH???

JDSJDFSB THE LYRICS OH MY GOD

“deep blue but you painted me golden / oh and you held me close / ooh how was i to know” HSKJFWEH WOWOWWOOW

I HAD A BAD FEELING

QUEEN TAYLOR IS SHAKING ME

i loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us

i love.

//

DRESS

“they got no idea about me and you” wow you right.. we didn’t have any idea sis :( 

I LOVE HER VOICE IN THE BEGINNING BABY YES TAYLOR

only bought this dress so you could take it off

anyone thinks that they know us but they know nothing about all of this silence and patience panic and anticipation my hands are shaking from holding back from you

I honestly love how this song is about sex lmao

nonetheless i love the beat and feel of this song:)

AND THE BRIDGE TOOK MY BREATH AWAY. i would say wig flew but she took that during the first 3 seconds of end game

//

THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS

okay the beginning,, i thought it was an ad so imma be honest and say i don’t like the beginning

this song gives me the vibe of we are young by fun., is it just me?? idk but that’s what i thought of during the verses vs the chorus you know??

if only you weren’t so shady,, this is why we can’t have nice things

ALRIGHT I LOVE HOW SHE DEDICATES THAT PART OF THE SONG TO PEOPLE WHERE SHES LIKE:

HERE’S A TOAST TO MY REAL FRIENDS WHO DON’T CARE ABOUT THE HE SAID SHE SAID

AND HERE’S TO MY BAAABYY (i love the way she says baby in this song it’s deadass so adorable) HE AIN’T READING WHAT THEY CALL ME LATELY

AND HERE’S TO MY MAMA HAD TO LISTEN TO ALL THIS DRAMA

AND HERE’S TO YOU BECAUSE FORGIVENESS IS A NICE THING TO DO– HAHAHA I CAN’T EVEN SAY THAT WITH A STRAIGHT FACE

I LOVE IT. I STAN. 

this song is so cute tbh

//

CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT

alright alright alright,, the fourth single of rep. probably my favorite single.

i love the contrast from this is why we can’t have nice things

and this song is so cuteeee and i love how she stays calling him her baby,, it’s the cutest thing and makes my heart go [<3<3<3]

and i know i make the same mistakes every time bridges burn i never learn at least i did one thing right lmao that line lowkey broke my heart 

this is the type of song you listen to when you’re in love tbh it’s so cute and the lyrics r like old taylor and i love it

not because he owns me, but because he really knows me

LOVES ME LIKE IM BRAND NEW I adore that lyric

//

NEW YEAR’S DAY

this song is so cute wow. it’s so different from the rest of the album though and i feel like it’d be a deluxe song, but NONETHELESS IM IN LOVE WITH THIS SONG WOW

squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi

please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh i can recognize anywhere

this song is deadass so cute oh my god i love how she shows her soft side in this song

HOLD ON TO THESE MEMORIES

that reminded me of long live oh my god i’m trying not to get emo ab that

CANDLE WAX AND POLAROIDS ON THE HARDWOOD FLOOR - YOU AND ME FOREVERMORE

this is the most og taylor swift song on the album and the type of song that captured my heart all those years ago and wow. i just love it.

//

overall i love this album more than i thought i would because,, well to be quite honest i kind of grew apart 1989 and thought this would just push me away further but it definitely did not. no, it’s not your typical taylor swift cheesy heartbreak songs, but it’s different and that’s what i love about it. is it better than red? once i get more into the lyrics and the concepts behind all of the songs i think i’ll determine my opinion on that.

one thing i really loved about this album is how it’s not just about her heartbreak and the hell and the pain she’s been through with the last relationship she was in (of course there’s that in this album but it’s so much more), it’s also about her well, reputation, and how she feels in her current one. i can tell how happy she is right now and i can already feel her smiles through the songs, the smiles she probably had during the recording of this album.

i love the change of style that came out of the 3 year hiatus

and now here’s my rankings (for now at least)

- getaway car

- i did something bad 

- delicate

- dress

- dancing with our hands tied

- new year’s day

- king of my heart 

- don’t blame me

- end game

- call it what you want

- gorgeous

- ready for it

- this is why we can’t have nice things

- so it goes

- look what you made me do

[probably-writing-x]

High Society (Chapter 10)

~A Tom Holland AU Series~

Tags: @imarypayne @sunshine112 @sleepwalkingdragon @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny @trap-house-homiecide @shamelessbookaddict @tommydaspidey @oneblckcoffee

Inspiration: Y'all know by now!!!

Warnings: Mentions of murder, language warning, mentions of gang crime and violence, mentions of teenage pregnancy

Notes: Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts??? The next chapter coming out is going to be the murderer reveal so be prepared guys!! I want to know all of your thoughts about who killed Imogen in the comments or my messages and asks are open too!!

~~~Friday 21st December 2018~~~

The end of term buzz around school was evidently pouring through the corridors, warming the smiles of every child here and brightening the teaching of every professor. You weren't surprised in the slightest that it wasn't mirrored in your own classroom. The hostile nature still hadn't left since the events of three weeks ago. Imogen's family were still investigating the robbery but were no closer to finding a suspect. Harrison had been forcing himself to act normal, slowly but surely distancing himself from the clutches of Imogen. Sam and Noah had still kept things private, only being seen together when you were at Tom's house and only together at all when they knew prying eyes weren't near. Lily had resulted to being a typical bitch, finding aquaintances with some people from the year below that were happy to follow her around like puppies and even managing to pick up a boyfriend at a local bar, a University student as you'd been told. Everyone was settling into this negative energy like it was nothing.

"Are you coming round tonight?" Tom asks, a question that had started to become a regular occurrence. You had managed to avoid the questions from your Dads by always telling them you were studying with Noah, or at gym, or trying out for the team, or sitting an out of hours test. There was always a reason and none of those reasons were ever true.

"I'd love to," You sigh, "But I need to go home before we leave for my grandparents. I brought your present to school though,"

"Then it's a good job I have yours too," He grins, patting the bulky shape of his rucksack.

It felt strange to be leaving for an entire month. You wouldn't be seeing the confines of these walls or the confines of this group for a full thirty days. How much would change by the time you returned?

"Who's excited for break mother fuckers?" Z grins as she walks into the room with more of a skip to her step than usual.

This was thankfully your last period of the day, one more hour and then you'd be leaving with certain cheers to signify the moment.

"Okay, folks," Mr Fitz calls order to the class, "It's time for your projects. Something about you, and something about someone else,"

"It's exposing time, boys," Harry laughs, flopping back in his chair.

"Well, Harry, would you like to begin?"

The first few are typical. Harry and Sam both say the same things about themselves and each other and have the same PowerPoint slides to back up their words. Noah and Zendaya speak about each other too, both exposing a definitely fake fact about the other. Harrison doesn't even have one completed - but he just claims it is down to special measures. Nobody questions it.

"Lily?" Mr Fitz calls and her heels click against the floor like the ticking down of a dreaded clock.

"Well, what don't you already know about me? I'm going to graduate at the top of this class, and I'm going to be more successful than all of you," Lily grins, shrugging her shoulders with oozing confidence, "Now, (Y/N), what don't they know about you?"

You see the way Tom clenches his jaw and the way fear courses through his veins for a lingering second.

"How about yours and Tom's pathetic relationship?" She cocks a brow, "Or what about this little gem,"

What she lifts out of her bag next makes you go weak.

"Why on earth would you have any use for a, pregnancy test, little miss perfect?" She chuckles, waving the empty box around, "Go on then, tell us the result,"

You see that Tom's eyes are on you and they're full of a mix of worry, panic and annoyance. Words fail you completely.

"That's enough now Lily, please sit down," Mr Fitz waves her off and she gladly takes her seat, "(Y/N), would you like to follow on from that?"

You look to Tom for a split second who is clearly hoping for a bit of an explanation but gets nothing as your chair scrapes against the cold tiles and you make the walk up to the front of the class. Everything had been prepared for yours. Down to the clicking of your presentation and the tone of your voice - it was when your perfectionism became too much.

"I guess I did have something planned but I can't really speak too much about that now," You begin, setting the papers down on the desk, "Lily, you're right. That was in my bag and I did take the test. If that's exposing something about myself then I'll take it. But, if I've learnt anything in the past months here, it's that all you care about is the face value. That's all this school runs off of. That test could be positive, negative or a completely false result. And it wouldn't change anything. You crave that single moment where you think you're better than me and the rest doesn't matter. So, Lily, what do you want me to say? I think you've already said enough,"

The silence settling over the group gives you an insentive to return to your seat, knowing your piece had been said already.

Tom doesn't even manage to say anything after that, but you know he wants you to feel his reassurance in in the way his hand squeezes yours under the table. Explanations could come later.

"Well, now that's over!" Imogen chirps, jumping up and spinning to face you all at the front of the room, "I don't really care for exposing myself but I do certainly have something I think you'd all be very excited to hear about,"

She clicks over the slide and shows a photo of Sam, laughing at his brother behind the camera.

"About six months ago, little Sammy here got himself into some trouble," She begins to explain, "What happened, kiddo?"

Sam is frozen in his spot. As are Tom and Harry.

"I'll proceed," She rolls her eyes, "You, mister, got yourself involved with a gang and..." The photo switches to one of a young boy, about your age with an innocence already echoing in his unknown features, "Wh-"

"You fucking bitch!" Tom yells, slamming his hand on the desk and standing up, "How is this any of your fucking business?"

"Mr Holland, please sit down," Mr Fitz begins and it is almost humorous that he thinks it is going to have any impact.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you!" Tom continues, "Keep your mouth shut and keep your ass out of our business!"

Imogen lets out a laugh and flicks her hair over her shoulder, everyone else stunned to a deathly silence.

Who was that boy?

"That's it, class dismissed," Mr Fitzgerald confirms, "Imogen, Sam and Tom, please stay behind,"

You all uncomfortably rise in the drastic turn of events and take your bags to leave. It takes more courage than necessary for you to glance back at Tom before you exit, whose eyes are still flaring with a built up anger you were fearful to see escape.

"(Y/N)," Harry starts when you walk away from the room, "It was Imogen who found that test. I saw her take it from your locker when you were in class. Before she gave it to Lily, I took out the actual test so they haven't seen the result," He takes it, wrapped in tissue, out of his bag, "I promise I didn't look,"

You can't help but release a fraction of the tension on your shoulders, "Thank you Harry,"

"And about that boy?" He begins, clearly questioning whether you wanted to know anymore, "Sam got himself involved in that same gang as Harrison. He tried using it as an escape when he felt really alone. And he became one of them,"

You stop in your tracks when you two reach the stairs, taking a seat on one of the lower ones.

"That boy was someone that that gang didn't like. They forced Sam into helping them finally give him 'justice'. And, one night, they jumped him when he was coming back from work," Harry continues, completely transparent with you now, "And they just attacked him, it was brutal and pure evil. Sam promises me he never laid a finger on him, but he's never forgiven himself for walking away,"

"How did Imogen know about that?" You frown, feeling a shudder cross your spine as you pictured that young face that had been on the screen.

"I don't know, that girl knows far too much than is good for her," Harry sighs, dragging a hand through his untamed curls, "I should go, they're just coming out,"

You glance up and notice Imogen, Tom and Sam all leaving the class. Tom has clearly relaxed but still doesn't look himself, Sam looks like a rabbit in headlights and Imogen shows no sign of remorse for what she'd just done. It made your blood boil.

"Is this seat taken?" Tom's voice is croaky and far from the warm tone you were falling in love with.

"It is now," You smile, watching as he sits down in the empty shadow where his brother had just been, "Are you-"

"Okay?" He smirks, "God no. But Sam's just thankful nobody heard anything more so that's good,"

"Harry told me what happened," You admit. Would he be annoyed for you getting involved in their business?

"It saves me the trouble. I was going to tell you, it's just not the best conversation to start having," He admits, dragging a hand over his face.

"I guess that's what it was like with the test," You mumble, your fingers brushing over the rough ply of the tissue that concealed it, "I didn't know when I could ever start to bring something like that up,"

"You know whatever it says, I'll be-"

"T," You stop him, placing your hand over his, "I didn't even take the test. I know I'm not pregnant. After we, you know, I started overthinking it all and so I bought a test. But I know I'm not pregnant,"

Tom visibly relaxes and lets out a slight laugh, "Well, that class was a complete disaster then,"

You chuckle with him, "What a way to end the term,"

"No," Tom stops you, "We don't even know if you're coming back next term, so I don't want that to be your last memory of this place."

He rummages in his bag and pulls out your present, you following suit and grabbing his too. Your hands found the clearly hand wrapped present and he did the same to the box you'd given him. Watching to see his reaction, you're thankful when you see him pull out the pair of boxing gloves with a beaming smile on his face.

"(y/n) these are amazing!" He exclaims, turning them round to see the artistic doodles that all had some small relation to him, "Where did you even get these?"

"Well, I designed them myself and then my Dad knew someone and they made them properly," You explain, a weight releasing as you see the excitement on his face, "Can I open mine now?"

Tom nods, less eager than before as he watches you with a bubbling anxiety, "If you don't like it I ca-"

You bring your hands up and hold up the glistening piece in the catching sunlight echoing in quiet corridors. In your view, dangles a petite silver chain, decorated by a small pendant of two boxing gloves wrapped around each other that swung gently in your released breath.

"T, this is-" You begin but the teats pooling in your eyes erase all focus from your words, "It's perfect, thank you,"

You see him visibly relax and he reaches out to clip it around your neck, his fingers grazing gently over your skin, "Since you're not going to see me for a month, I figured you'd need something to remember me by,"

"We're not dying Thomas," You laugh, easing the romantic tension, "I'm sure you could live without me for that long,"

"Are you kidding?" He chuckles, "You don't even know if you're coming back here after Christmas!"

You look down for a moment to your hands and focus on the wrapping paper that had fallen to Tom's feet.

"God, if Imogen wasn't here, everything would be a damn sight easier, right?" He shakes his head and you realise how much of an impact that girl had on him.

From his brother, to someone who might as well be his brother, to you; she'd affected you all. And, in turn, she'd left a deep set hatred for her in Tom's heart.

"Don't think about that, or her, or anything," You nudge him, finding comfort in the way his arm rises instinctively to wrap around you, "Let me just enjoy this school for another few minutes,"

He squeezes you towards him and the two of you stare out at the dead corridors, with their fallen air and settled distress.

And, for a moment, you forget all of the lies and deceit that they hold. Only for a moment.

~~~Wednesday 30th January 2019~~~

"You learnt a very important story during your time away at Christmas, Miss (y/l/n), what was that?" The woman asks and you were sure you'd been in this room for hours on end by now.

"My Dads always told me that, when I felt ready, they would tell me about my mum and the family I had before they adopted me," You begin, your hand instinctively reaching for the boxing glove pendant around your neck, fiddling with it across the cold metal chain, "So, when we were away for the holidays, I decided to finally ask them more about it. I wanted to know who my mum was,"

"And can you confirm what they told you?" She raises her brows and you know she's thankful for this twist in events.

"They told me that my mum was young when she had me. And, when I was born, her other daughter wasn't even a year old. In fact, we would've been in the same school year,"

"Even more important, you were in the same school year, weren't you (Y/N)?"

"When I asked about my half sister, they told me her name was Imogen. And she was the reason they wanted me out of that school," You confirm, the thought still forcing goose pimples onto your skin, "That's why I couldn't hate her. She was my fucking sister,"

You see the woman wince at your words, "Why are you so angry about that? She's family, no?"

"I was born into a life that I wasn't wanted in at all. I was a complete accident and my own mother dreaded the thought of having me," You snap, gripping onto your necklace with whitening knuckles, "Imogen grew up with a life that I was completely dismissed from. I didn't hate her, but I couldn't just accept that,"

"When did Imogen learn of this news? Did you contact her over the break?"

"I didn't speak to her," You shake your head, "Not until the night of the winter ball,"

"And by the night of the winter ball, you mean the night that Imogen, your own recently-discovered sister, was murdered?"

"Yes."

[bforbookslut]

Review: 99 Days by Katie Cotugno

I have given this book ☆☆. 372 pages. It belongs to the Young Adult Contemporary genre. Balzer + Bray published it. The synopsis reads: “Day 1: Julia Donnelly eggs my house my first night back in Star Lake, and that’s how I know everyone still remembers everything—how I destroyed my relationship with Patrick the night everything happened with his brother, Gabe. How I wrecked their whole family. Now I’m serving out my summer like a jail sentence: Just ninety-nine days till I can leave for college, and be done.

Day 4: A nasty note on my windshield makes it clear Julia isn’t finished. I’m expecting a fight when someone taps me on the shoulder, but it’s just Gabe, home from college and actually happy to see me. “For what it’s worth, Molly Barlow,” he says, “I’m really glad you’re back.”

Day 12: Gabe got me to come to this party, and I’m actually having fun. I think he’s about to kiss me—and that’s when I see Patrick. My Patrick, who’s supposed to be clear across the country. My Patrick, who’s never going to forgive me.”

[contains spoilers]

This is possibly the longest review I’ve written yet.

“He was my best friend. He was my first love. I had sex with his big brother. I broke his fucking heart.”

You might consider the statement a spoiler but I don’t. 

Let’s get it out of the way. I wanted to love 99 Days and I wanted to write a review raving about how it’s such a great book and it really made me excited and feel all sorts of things (Anna and the French Kiss wrecked me, ya’ll). But, as I sat down to write the review: I felt empty.

Let me give you a quick rundown of what 99 Days is about. Molly Barlow ran away from the very, very small town of Salt Lake a year ago because her mom told the entire world Molly’s great big secret (having sex with Gabe was the big secret, ya’ll) and the whole town was against her. But, now she’s back for the summer before she goes off to Boston for college.

I was very, very drawn in by the synopsis. There was so much potential in it, so much angst and self-discovery and patched-up relationships and happy people.

But, it soon descended into a strange mess.

Let’s all address the very-obvious-not-doing-a-good-job-of-hiding elephant in the room. Molly Barlow is a cheater. And given some family history, I don’t take lightly to cheaters. First, she cheats on Patrick by sleeping with Gabe. DURING THE FIVE SECONDS THAT THEY’RE BROKEN UP. Fine. I’ll accept it. It’s in the technicalities, after all. But, Molly swoops back into the town like the fucking plague and does it all over again. She cheats on Gabe and Patrick, also a cheater and although he got his heart broken by cheating, finds it absolutely fine to cheat on his girlfriend, Tess. Because he’s so desperately in love with Molly.

She could have said no. She could have put on her big girl pants.

The worst part is that Molly feels no remorse for cheating.

She ran because she was the town pariah. And she’s constantly running because she’s afraid of what other people would think of her not because she can’t face her feelings. She doesn’t even acknowledge hurting everyone around her, for breaking their trust and basically just turning their lives upside down. She hurt her best friend by running away and going radio silent but turns up in town and expects Imogen to talk to her again like nothing happened? Fuck that. I’d be pissed too.

And it’s strange enough that BOTH Donnelly brothers are into her. How I wish I had brothers fighting over me. Yet, there was absolutely no chemistry between Molly and either of the brothers. Their supposedly steamy and stolen moments felt clinical, as if someone was describing the sex act in the worst way possible. I felt absolutely nothing.

And neither Gabe nor Patrick is truly likeable. Gabe’s supposed to be some smooth-talking hottie and Patrick is the angsty, emo brother but neither of them are developed enough to show it. All I can think about is Gabe swooping in like some fucking knight in shining armour and “rescuing” Molly from her social exile and basically badgering her into a relationship. And, Patrick seemed to be a very flat and boring picture from what Molly has told us of his past. He just broods. There’s only so much brooding that can happen before he goes from sexy to a pain in the ass. And apparently, both brothers were in love with her since forever but there’s not enough history shown to prove it. It’s all Molly’s word and right now, I don’t trust her very much.

And not to mention, while Molly was at boarding school, she never tried to change her life around, make things better for herself. She just moped. And complained. And sulked.

On that, we all have family members who make us want to rage against the world. But what mother takes their daughter’s secret, turns it into a novel and then tells the fucking world about it? Fine, writers draw inspiration from everywhere but did she not think about what it would do to Molly’s life?

And, after all these ugly messes and drama, the ending is the worst. After 99 days of ugliness, it was completely unresolved. Once again, Molly runs from her problems, leaving shit everywhere in her wake. She’s ruined a friendship with Tess, she’s ruined Patrick forever, she’s fucked up her relationship with Julia Donnelly, her OG best friend and I don’t even think she’s fully resolved things with her mother. She just runs off to Boston when her roommate tells her that:

“It’s easy to forget that your hometown isn’t the entire universe”. 

Apparently Gabe seems to be okay with her cheating on him. And apparently the brothers were competing for her. Seriously what does this girl have? A magical vagina? I hardly doubt that. Patrick hasn’t even had sex with her.

Molly Barlow is a toxic person.

There are three reasons why I gave this two stars despite how empty it made me feel. 

1. I actually can relate to Molly’s position. It’s easy enough to say, Molly, don’t do it, be a big girl. But, I was in the same situation as Molly where I was given the choice not to repeat my mistake, but I did. I was the other woman. I was the one he cheated on her with. And I was fine with it. I hoped he would dump her for me. Clearly, not my best big girl decision. And I think definitely that this is what Katie was trying to get at. That we do make the same mistakes twice and it gets uglier each time. And sometimes, there’s just no fixing what already went wrong; we just have to keep moving forward and leave the past where it belongs.

2. There is some semblance of trying to address the whole issue surrounding girls getting all the blame for cheating and getting called a slut. As both Gabe and Tess puts it, it takes two to cheat and at any time, one of them could have said no. In Malay, there is a saying that goes something like “bagai bertepuk sebelah tangan” which roughly translates to, like clapping with one hand which means that both are responsible. And I reward that good effort.

3. Katie Cotugno writes like a charm. It felt incredibly real and raw, all the ugliness and drama right up in your face. I was glued to the book and couldn’t put it down. I finished it in a day. KC has this way of writing with lines like [show examples] that just makes it very real, like Molly is your friend and she’s telling you all these details. It’s like talking to a friend; you get sucked right in. It’s also very, very vivid. Plus, she brings some sage advice like

“Why are you going to let people who are hell-bent on not forgiving you keep you from something that could actually be great?”

But I think that’s the only one.

There are other plusses that aren’t even worth mentioning.

I requested an ARC for KC’s new book, “Top Ten”. I hope it goes way better than this.

Enough people on Goodreads share my opinions. But I’d like to hear yours too! Did 99 Days bother you as much as it did me? Did you feel like the town of Salt Lake was an absolute trainwreck? Did you find that any of the characters were remotely redeemable? Come into my inbox~!

[probably-writing-x]

High Society (Chapter 9)

~A Tom Holland AU Series~

Tags: @imarypayne @sunshine112 @sleepwalkingdragon @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny @trap-house-homiecide @shamelessbookaddict @tommydaspidey @oneblckcoffee

Warnings: Mentions of crime and gangs, language warning, mentions of weapons

Inspiration: It's interesting to see how the other half live, how their perfect lives are pieced together by secret scandals. It's beyond anything you can imagine until you're a part of it. It's High Society. (Based on the Netflix series 'Elite')

Notes: Thank you so much for your love for this story recently, I absolutely love reading all of your comments and predictions for the next chapters! Let me know who your thoughts are for the killer... (Also, two chapters in two days! I'm far too proud of myself for that!)

~~~Friday 30th November 2018~~~

You were sure all hearts stopped at the sight of the velvet box now on the ground.

"I didn't hurt her," Harrison mumbles, "I just... I had to get it,"

The trembling in his voice resonated through the gun shaking in his hands, still looking completely out of place.

You cautiously move and pick up the box, instantly surprised by the delicate weight it carried. When you opened it, your eyes met what could only be determined as the most expensive jewellery you'd ever laid eyes on. Diamonds caught the November's breeze and glistened with a strange chill, knowing your hands should not be the one to hold them.

It was then that you could hear the sound of the back door opening to the Holland house and were met with all of the other brothers, their eyes solely focused on the gun. That goddamn gun.

"Paddy, go back inside!" Tom yells and watches protectively as the twins usher their younger brother into the safety of the house, "Boys we need your help,"

You were surprised by how calm he could be, now releasing his grip slightly on Harrison.

"Sam, I need you to go into the security office and erase all the footage since we got here, make sure it's completely gone," He confirms, "Harry, I need you to take this inside and put it somewhere where nobody will fucking find it,"

He presses the cool metal of the gun into his brother's hands and you watch the goosebumps trickle his arms instantly. Harry looks up at Tom with eyes full of a thick worry and they exchange some kind of knowledge between each other, inaudible but certain.

"Was this-" Sam begins and you recognise the fear in his own words too.

"Sam, it's okay. Yes, but just do what I said, okay? I'll handle them," Tom states and Sam is quick to hurry off.

The silence that settles over all three of you now left was enough to make you feel sick to your stomach: the waiting, the anticipation.

"Harrison," Tom starts, "Get inside, get inside and just fucking stay there,"

Harrison follows the instructions because they were far too harsh to say no to. It is then that the eldest Holland brother can let out the breath that his words had been stopping him from releasing.

"Fuck!" The word sounds deranged in his wrangled yell, stress preventing all normality in his tone.

"Tom, listen h-" You start but the fuel behind his angry eyes is enough to silence your attempts.

"Don't," He snaps, recognising his harshnes straight away, "Not now,"

He storms up the garden towards the house and you find yourself following, keeping distance between his steps and yours.

Harrison is slumped forward on the couch when you walk in, his head in his still shaking hands.

"Alright, explain what's happening," Tom begins and his authority felt overwhelming. You took a seat on the sofa and he paced in front of you and Harrison like some sort of overly strict parent.

"Tom they-" Harrison starts, a pleading tone to the fricative.

"I said fucking explain it Haz! Don't start making excuses!" Tom loses it once more, "You're involved with a gang! A gang that gave you a gun and made us find you like this. So, I'll say it again, explain yourself!"

Sam and Harry return from their errand and sit either side of you like they can tell how fearful you are of seeing Tom like this. It was a side of himself he was always certain you would never see. But you weren't on his mind now.

"I needed to get something that would give me some money. I didn't want to do the drugs thing like my Dad," Harrison shakes his head, tears building in his watery blue eyes, "So, they told me to steal that,"

All eyes divert to the necklace just for a moment. It felt like it was tainted, like it should be concealed from human vision.

"They gave me the gun because they said that I would need it if anyone caught me. That it would give me some sort of threat to them, but I wasn't going to use it. I couldn't," He shakes his head repeatedly.

"Did Imogen see you?" Tom questions, stopping in his pacing to focus solely on the boy he saw as a fourth brother.

"No, nobody was home," Harrison confirms and it is a relief you are thankful for in this tension, "I got it and I ran. And then I saw you two,"

"Why would you get yourself involved with those guys H?" Harry asks and it is more of a disappointment in his words than his brother had.

"I don't know, I know what they did to-" All words stop as all of the boys look to Sam who sits with his head down on the couch, "But I was desperate and I was scared of what would happen if I didn't do something,"

"Okay, okay," Tom sighs, sitting down on the coffee table in front of you all, "Nobody knows you came here, nobody saw that it was you in the house. They're not going to be able to tell its you if they check the cameras. Nobody will know you had a gun,"

You notice that all of the boys are placing every ounce of faith into their authoritative company. The one they had to rely on.

"For all anyone knows, you were here all night. You came round to watch the boxing straight from school and we've been here ever since. Alright?" Tom says and the nods exchanged between the guys confirm his decisions, "Harry, go with Harrison and find some clothes for him to wear. Sam, go and check on Paddy. Just explain that Harrison's been in a bit of trouble but we're dealing with it, and tell him the alibi."

They all disperse, once again leaving just you and Tom. He runs a hand through his growing brown hair and then drags it down his face.

"I can't believe this," He says, quiet and no longer with such certainty, "What has he done?"

You realise now that you've been stunned into a silence. In his aggression, in this situation, you were too overwhelmed to even try to say anything else - fearful of the response that you would receive from him.

Tom stays silent as he moves around the table and perches on the couch beside you. It is only when his hand reaches out to you that he sees how much you flinch.

"God, I'm so sorry," He says, realising his actions only now, "I'm so sorry,"

"Tom your best friend just-" Your mind couldn't fully comprehend the situation so words fail you once again, "You don't need to apologise,"

"No, I do. I shouldn't have snapped at you or yelled. God, I don't want you to think of me like that," He shakes his head, hesitant to try to reach for your hand again.

"I've only known you a few months," You confirm, "I'm still meant to be learning about you, about what the real you is,"

"And I'm guessing you're opinion has completely changed after today?"

"I think you're protective and caring for your friends. I think you care about them so much that you feel like it's your responsibility to help. And I really admire that," You nod, squeezing on his fingers gently.

Tom breaks into what feels like the first smile you've seen from him in forever before he leans in to gently press his lips against yours, both of you knowing you didn't need anything more.

The loud ring of your phone in your pocket broke you both from your moment and you pull it out to see your Dad calling you.

You excuse yourself and pick up the call, "Hey Dad,"

"Where are you?" He questions, clearly showing no compassion as you did.

"I'm at Tom's house, I told you this," You sigh, looking over to a fatigued Tom who still sat on the couch like he was anxiously waiting until the comforting moment you returned.

"I don't like how much time you're spending with that boy,"

"That boy?" You scoff, "Dad, I really like him. And he's been really good to me,"

"(Y/N), darling, he's changing you. We don't want you spending time with him anymore," He confirms, through the phone and it makes you clench your jaw instinctively.

"I'm not a kid anymore Dad, you can't make those decisions for me like you used to," You state, "I'll see you tomorrow,"

When you turn back around, you see that Tom is stood closer to you now, evidently having listened to your conversation.

He sees the tears in your eyes and is there with arms to hold you before any of them are allowed to fall. You both needed this. You needed to know each other was there and it felt scary to you that you relied so much on a man you'd only known for a matter of months.

After everything that had happened today, he was the only thing that felt real.

~~~Wednesday 30th January 2019~~~

"I got involved with a gang but that was all that happened. They tried to encourage me to get involved with their drug dealing," Harrison lies through calmed words that echo a false truth, "I didn't want to be like my father. So I left as soon as I could. They knew the position I was in so I guess they were a bit more lenient with me than they normally are,"

"And that's all that happened?" The woman raises her brows, "They didn't make you do anything?"

"That's all that happened,"

~~~Thursday 6th December 2018~~~

The past week at school had been solely focused on Imogen's attempts to find who was the burglar at her house. She had clung to Harrison all week and benefitted highly from the fact that she had 'been through a traumatic experience'. Every time the events of last Friday were mentioned, you would exchange a small look between you, Tom, Harry and Sam that quickly faded into the commotion of the class. It felt like there was a target on the back of your head.

Imogen was in the middle of another rant about the lost jewellery and you found yourself settling your head into your arms like it would block you out of the scene for just a few seconds of bliss.

"Imogen, doesn't your mum have like billions coming out of her ass?" Z pipes up, never one to bite her tongue when she was fed up about something.

"That's not the point Zendaya. That necklace had meaning," Imogen snaps, though you knew there was no real meaning behind anything in that house. It was all superficial.

Z rolls her eyes and gets back to looking at her laptop, reducing all attention she had on the conversation to a bare minimum. Her and Noah had a certain mischief to their actions recently and you couldn't work out why.

"Alright students," Mr Fitz calls some order to the class, taking up his place at the front of the class.

You notice Tom lean forward in his seat so his posture matches yours and his hand tugs yours beneath the table to settle with your fingers intertwined out of view. You see the clench of Lily's jaw, the irritance in her eyes.

"It is not long until your projects are due. In fact, the deadline is now the 14th of December. The day we break up for Christmas," Your professor confirms, "I want this to be good, folks,"

"Have you even done anything for that?" Tom mumbles to you, clearly hoping you'd say no.

"Surprisingly, no," You chuckle, "How hard can it really be?"

"To expose ourselves and other people?" Tom scoffs, shuffling in the uncomfortable nature of his seat, "Do you want to come to mine tonight and we can make a start?"

You stop for just a moment, "You know I would bu-"

"Your parents," He finishes for you, "I understand,"

"They're saying I haven't been myself," You admit, looking down to your lap, "And that I'm distancing myself from them because of you,"

"Maybe they need to look at themselves to realise why you want to distance yourself. They're hardly being the most loving parents," Tom rolls his eyes but realises he's not in a position to complain about the parents that had given you so much, "That was harsh,"

"No, no, you're right," You smile slightly but before he can lean in to kiss you, Imogen's voice is ringing through the room.

"Gosh, I can't wait for this project! Aren't you excited Sam?" She cocks a brow to the younger Holland brother who groans and averts his gaze away from everyone else, "Why wouldn't you be excited? Got something to hide?"

You look back at Tom who looks just as confused as you do.

"Calm down Imogen, it's not like you're little miss perfect," Lily snaps, standing up in her chair, "All of you act like you're the best of friends until someone comes to snake you all," Her eyes are only on you for that last part as she walks out of the class, a signature move of hers.

"Harry," Tom hisses, leaning back in his chair to speak quietly to his brother, "What was Imogen talking about?"

Harry scoffs, glancing back over to Sam, "What do you think?"

The colour drained from Tom's face like he had just been completely changed in a matter of four words. His grip on your hand loosened momentarily and it felt like you lost him for a second.

"T?" You frown, trying to stop him from losing all concentration.

His eyes divert back to yours but they are full of panic, "This is bad. Shit. This is bad,"