#police are great and helpful and nice to victims :):)

[dyad-dragon]

A friendly reminder that if you see urban exploration videos with "abandoned" houses that are in suspiciously good condition with "everything left behind" it's probably not abandoned and the "explorers" are just breaking and entering and ransacking the place for views :):):)

[mikuni14]

Dead Friend Forever - Ep 7

This episode of DFF is also excellent and I feel so blessed to have experienced two series with such well-written scripts this week (the other being Love for Love's Sake, of course) 💖

Everything in DFF is clear, logical and understandable when we take into account that the characters of this series are 1) humans 2) teenagers. I completely understand the behavior of each of these characters, even when I feel like tearing my hair out or throwing punches and kicks at them. If anyone is wondering whether what Non, his teacher, his bullies, is doing is illogical, I encourage you to study police reports - I have literally read about situations such as those in DFF.

Phee: what a solid guy 😍 As soon as he appears, we see him as a perfect boyfriend, romantic, strong, who gets things done. I like his attitude, the fact that no matter what, how, he gets shit done, even if he has to use his own father and his position to do it. I understand his controlling nature when you have a boyfriend like Non (Phee is in love, but he's not stupid and naive), I also understand that he doesn't fully trust Non. I completely understand his behavior at the end, especially when he entered the scene with Non and the teacher hugging. I also understand cruel words. Should Phee have acted differently? Of course. But he COULD NOT. Because he would have to be made of stone and be a hardened adult with perfect self-control and nerves of steel. Phee, despite how smart and talented he is, is only human and is still a child who doesn't have to be able to regulate his emotions, control his feelings of hurt, betrayal and rejection, and doesn't have to be able to cope ALWAYS and in every situation. Perhaps when Phee calms down, he will want to explain the situation, or at least apologize for his words. Who knows. Anyway, he's great as a character, my fav.

Non: in his being pathetic, in refusing Phee's help, in trying to save his situation by sinking deeper and deeper, in trusting the wrong people, in "allowing" bullying, in seeking validation of his self-worth where he shouldn't be, he is 100% real. Non irritates and that's how it should be. Because victims are often irritating and often confusing in their behavior. And how often questions are asked: but he/she agreed to it, no one forced her/him, he/she went there herself, they did it of their own free will! Why didn't he/she tell anyone, why didn't they confess? And here we can also ask why Non is doing all this, why won't he confess to Phee, why won't he transfer to another school, why is he having sex with the teacher? For me, Non is a victim of the system, his illness, his family, his school, and maybe also his personality. I also wondered why he didn't want to change schools and just leave it all behind, usually students who are victims of bullying dream of changing schools. But I think, looking at his conversation with Phee, that Non wanted to regain control over his life, wanted to solve his problems himself, perhaps feeling like a weakling and a loser seeing how easily Phee solved his problems. Perhaps he felt that control over his life was slipping from his fingers and he desperately tried to regain it by closing open issues, such as his debt and the movie. Does his behavior make sense to me? No. But I've never been in such a situation, I'm trying to understand it and this explanation seems quite logical to me. Especially since Non tries hard and finally wants to give up at least the movie, while staying at the summer house, and is stopped by Jin. And he tries to get the money back by sleeping with his teacher, because in his mind THIS is not bad, THIS is just a way to solve the debt problem. And for him, a poor person, the problem of money may be more important than having sex with a teacher. Sex with the teacher itself doesn't have to be such a big problem for him, especially since the teacher is young, handsome, helpful, nice and shows compassion and attention. For a person like Non, it may even be flattering and he may even convince himself that nothing bad is happening, it's just sex, physical stuff, he gets something out of it that solves his money problem and the teacher is so nice! I can imagine how Non can manipulate himself in this situation and how easy a victim of grooming and manipulation he is for the teacher. And I must say that the series shows PERFECTLY how adults prey on children and teenagers, technically the adult does not force Non to do anything, he just sets up a very complicated trap in which Non cannot say "no". This series really doesn't fuck around, it just shows the TRUTH. Just to be clear: Non is the SA victim in this situation, PERIOD. I do not accept any accusations against him.

Jin: I don't know ultimately whether it was Jin who released this video, but if he did it, I understand that too, his behavior seems logical to me. People do all kinds of stupid and hurtful things under the influence of feelings of betrayal and hurt (even if Jin had no right to these feelings), especially young people (here is the same situation as with Phee, which I described above). Jin may feel betrayed, because he "did so much for Non", he always defended him. Jin also honestly has a crush on Non and found him not with a boy on a date (Jin didn't have any strong reaction to seeing Non hugged by another boy), but having sex with an adult and with a teacher to that. It's a lot to digest, and clearly Jin couldn't handle it at all (if I'm not mistaken, he was also drinking, which certainly didn't help).

All these shitty little pricks: Fluke, as always, avoids trouble and simply removes himself from situations, never comments, never takes sides (meaning - he takes sides with the bullies). I wonder how Jin always looks at him when he's looking for allies to help Non and how Fluke never reacts. Por, with his increasingly worse behavior, also fits the mold of a classic bully who has found a victim, in addition, someone he truly hates, and whom he can torment without consequences, and it's quite possible that he simply likes it. All this is a dangerous mix, pushing Non to his limits, encouraging other bullies, but also very realistic. Tee and Top are up to something and it scares me. All I know is that this money will be stolen and Non will have to get it again...

I am very impressed with this series, how well it's done, how realistic and logical it is. I'm incredibly intrigued and curious and I'm looking forward to the next episode. I rate the story building, script and character cohesion as 10.

[hadesoftheladies]

“good” men: I hate rapists and pedophiles. I think they should be tortured forever and then dismembered. fuck those guys

feminist: I’m glad you feel that way. here’s what you as a man can do to prevent it from happening. stop consuming porn, stop making misogynistic jokes, hold other men accountable, stop defending celebrity pedos and rapists, stop defending pimps and prostitution, stop berating and dehumanizing women as a form of male bonding, stop listening to podcast bros that promote misogyny and rape rhetoric, start uplifting and validating the voices of victims instead of cultivating indifference towards them. rape is the practice of misogyny, the ideology. dealing with the problems at the root will ensure that rape occurs less and that rapists and pedophiles are held accountable

“good” men: no :)

also

“nice” christians/religious conservatives: omg, I hate how crazy people kill and torture lgbt people for being lgbt. they are such bad people who miss the message of our religious texts, which is to love others.

lgbt people: that’s really cool! if you really hate people killing us, you could stop that by advocating for laws that ensure we have the same human rights protections you do, no more no less, and by not joking, preaching or advising about castrating, converting, lobotomizing, or killing us. you could critically examine your beliefs about us and challenge texts that teach we are subhuman, maybe even consider not making those texts authoritative in legislature. you could challenge your biases about us and try to make the world safer for us. that is how we would feel loved.

“nice” christians/religious conservatives: no :)

also

“progressive” white people: i hate what they did to george floyd and the other black victims of police brutality and hate crimes. i hate how poc all over the world are treated so badly by karens and rednecks. colonialism is so bad. it’s so sad when that happens.

poc/majority world citizens: that’s great! it would be cool if you could make space for poc to talk about their experiences without getting vibe checked and tone policed and got comfortable with being de-centered in political discussions, entertainment and history. it would also help if you held your politicians, academic institutions, and media people accountable for racist and colonial rhetoric, as well as stolen wealth and artifacts. you could stop exploiting and infantilizing locals when you tour exploited countries. you could criticize your government for neocolonial and imperial activity. you could challenge white supremacist propaganda in your history books. you could also not make fun of poc for their natural and ethnic features and not platform colonialist and white supremacist apologists.

“progressive” white people: no :)

[ofdinosanddais1]

Heartbreak High Season 2 Spoilers

So... lots of shit happened in the finale.

1): I like that they're setting up a redemption for Sasha and Spider. Both have done such horrible things on complete opposite ends of the spectrum but it's nice to see they could have a path to growth.

2): For Spider, I'm hoping to see more of his home life. I am thinking his father abused both him and his mom and his mom had a traumatic response which made her fear men including her own son. I think she pushed him away when she should've helped him because that's her kid and he reacted in his own way. And that does not absolve him of his wrongdoings, it means he has to sort through this shit in order to grow and prevent further harm to others. I would love to see more discussion on that in the third season. I would love for Spider to have a retribution and closure arc not for his own wellbeing (although it's a factor) but because there are boys watching this show who might have experienced things like him who might want to know it's okay to feel emotions and to see the damage that his actions did to show that it's not a healthy thing to do and it hurts a lot of people. I said redemption arc because that's probably what the show is setting up for but I think "redemption" should be left ambiguously like he's trying to be better but his actions have lasting consequences on the people he's hurt and he will always be making up for that. Changing for other people is not about being seen as the good guy but doing your best to prevent further harm. It's a complicated thing to deal with but I think showing that complexity like they have before is so important for kids watching this show.

3): I would fucking adore to see a Sasha redemption arc mostly for my own experience with other people who behaved like her who never learned from their mistakes for treating me differently because I'm autistic. Some of y'all might not want a redemption arc for her but like, I would fucking love to see her apologize and acknowledge what she did wrong and show change. Even if it's hard to do at first because no one will be perfect on the first try. After the lack of a genuine apology from Sia and her actions to the autistic community and how she continues to victimize herself, I just really want an allistic person to apologize and do better and I think the set-up for that in season 3 is PERFECT. Hopefully, there's a way for Quinni to still be school captain with Sasha as her co-captain because I think a message of uplifting people in communities you are not a part of is an EXCELLENT message. Sasha could step back with being the leading voice in this and allow Quinni to be a voice in her life as being autistic. Then this could expand to Sasha stepping back and uplifting other people's voices and learn that activism is about bringing people together and allowing space to share ideas and not trying to call out every single action she thinks is wrong. Overall though, I don't want them back in a relationship. I think the captain/vice-captain friendship could be fucking GREAT.

4): My heart fucking hurts for Cash. During that whole episode where he was on that boat with Chook, I was so fucking scared it was gonna be a jumping out situation but I fucking hope Chook doesn't mess with Cash or Harper anymore. He fucking had a deal and I don't want any redemption for Chook whatsoever. Crime and recidivism reduction is a special interest of mine and I fucking hated that Cash was in that situation to begin with and it's a perfect example of how vulnerable people join gangs. I am so fucking elated that this show is doing a great job of representing crime, recidivism, and police brutality. I'll have to research the prison system in Australia because I wanna see the similarities between Australia and the US's prison system. But YES. NAIL ON HEAD. A lot of teenagers and children join gangs because they are vulnerable whether that be an abusive home life such as Cash being in a group home then in Chook's gang before his grandma brought him to her home. How your family, your friends, your loved ones are all in danger when you are trying to leave a gang. I'm so fucking relieved that hopefully Cash can be free. I don't trust Chook's word though and that stuff always haunts people who often have no choice. I just want him to be safe and loved and cared for. He deserves so much better.

5): Kinda disappointed that Harper and Amerie didn't have a conversation on how Harper treated her but I think I still like their arc. I don't think that they're in anyway on the best terms they could be but I think it's because that Amerie views relationships transactionally in the way that she thinks she has to give every cent of her self to make other people accept her and I wanna see more of Amerie's story. For one, we know she has a sorta strict mom. For two, I've never seen anything about her dad. I'm wondering if there was an incident in her peer group in the earlier days or a situation in her home life where she feels like she constantly has to give 200% just to feel like she deserves even 5% of something. I really want the showrunners to tackle that kind of stuff in the third season. I want Harper and Amerie to have some kind of realization that their friendship is more complicated and I want Amerie to just have a god damn break for once. Have like a filler episode or gods just a fucking nap. I want Amerie to get like a cold where Harper or Darren or someone just helps her out while a bunch of crazy shit happens at school. Give my girl a break.

6): I fucking hate Rowan. He's manipulative but also traumatized. BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW GREAT SAM RECHNER DID PORTRAYING HIM??? It's like he woke up one day as Rowan like his acting was fucking PHENOMENAL. If Rowan is in the third season, I'm not going to be mad because I fucking love Sam Rechner's portrayal of a teenager that is aggressive and touchy and just... how tf do I put this... a sort of trauma-touched angry that is not the typical portrayal of "I'm angry because I'm traumatized" but just representative of people who are like him if that makes any fucking sense??? Idk how to describe his attitude and mannerisms because there us definitely trauma laced with his actions but you can also tell through his backstory that this shit didn't start with his trauma or at least not the one we saw in the beginning. It's kinda like the signs of a serial killer but (hopefully) those signs are recognized and he is placed in a treatment that can focus on protecting himself and others. I don't think his behaviors will go away and I would not be surprised if he's not in the second season because he was institutionalized because that seems like a natural progression.

It's weird to talk about Rowan because there are signs that his trauma has influence on his behavior but is not the sole cause of his behavior. I don't want to put some kind of diagnostic label on him and I encourage everyone else to also not put a diagnostic label on him because I think most people watching (including myself) have the psychological knowledge to put a label on him without demonizing other mental illnesses because I see a lot of behaviors that can be attributed to some psychological problems but I'm not educated enough to talk about that without demonizing people with those mental illnesses who act so far from his other behaviors. So, I don't recommend other people putting a label on him because, even with good intentions, there are people who would want to use Rowan as a reason to demonize real life mentally ill people. But, I do not fucking like him as a person. I love the characterization. But fuck him to the sun, man. He was manipulative of Amerie and he was trying to forget Amerie but his thoughts did result in harmful actions and I think the best retribution would be deep psychiatric help but knowing the mental health industry, the kind of help he needs does not currently exist and that fucking sucks. If he is in the next season, I'm not going to complain because holy fuck I loved the character in the realm of his writing like the writer room for Heartbreak High deserves a fucking award.

Overall, my thoughts on the season were that I love how complicated everyone is. The characters feel like actual people that exist in real life. They feel loved and cared for and I hope netflix greenlights a third season. I've seen a LOT of people recently who hadn't watched the first season come out but got a netflix account specifically to watch Heartbreak High and that kind of thing is what netflix WANTS so I'm a little more hopeful that a third season might get greenlit. I'm excited to see what the showrunners do next.

Again, gonna say that, whatever behaviors that Rowan has that can be attributed to certain mental health disorders, let's just consider what fuel we're adding to the fire.

And because some people did this, remember that the actors are not the characters. A lot of people bullied Gemma for Sasha's actions but Gemma is the actor playing Sasha, she is not actually Sasha. She did a fantastic job so it might be confusing but she is not Sasha and does not deserve the hate she gets for her wonderful portrayal. This goes for EVERY actor.

[aita-blorbos]

Aita for ACCIDENTALLY ruining my brothers wedding

Look I get that that’s not a great start but let me explain

I 36f recently moved back into the city I grew up in, I met up with my brother 36m and found out he was engaged (we lost contact a few years before this, so I didn’t even know he was dating anyone)

He was never the best judge of character, and we have a very rich stepfather, both of which has led to him getting into toxic relationship with men using him for our inevitable inheritance, so you can understand why I was a little suspicious at first

I didn’t want to make any assumptions so I met my brothers fiancé 38m, he seemed nice but I couldn’t help but think there was something off about him and it didn’t help that he shares a last name with the city’s so called “hero” despite not living here when before I moved (I will not be sharing his last name as it’s pretty uncommon and don’t want my brother seeing this and knowing it’s me)

So like a completely rational normal person would do, I searched on the internet to find out everything I could about him, and what I found was horrifying to say the least

It turns out his mother was a serial killer, she got caught because the neighbours smelled something rotting on their property a phoned the police, she got arrested thank whoever and her family ended up loosing all their assets (that’s right they were rich until this was discovered)

I decided to confront him about this, and asked why he didn’t go to the police, his response is that he was “scared of what his mother might have done to him if he did” and I’m not trying to victim blame here and he looked very upset so I just tried to leave it be

And I did for a bit though I made sure my brother was aware of the (he was apparently) I spent some time after that getting me and my kids (one boy 8 and one girl also 8) ready for the wedding

But I couldn’t stop thinking about it, something just didn’t feel right, I told my brother about this and he got upset saying that “he already knew about *redacted*’s mother” and that “I should trust him with his romantic decisions” that last part pissed me off a bit, I mean he’s had some pretty shit relationships and each time I (along with his best friend) were the ones that told him you need to leave that relationship

I decided to ask him (my brother’s fiancé) about it more, mostly about the loss of assets from his mother’s murders, he said he “didn’t really care” I asked him if the fact he used to be rich then lost it had anything to do with why he was marrying my brother his response “of course not, only a horrible person would do such a thing” and though I agree that only horrible people would date and marry someone for money but something about the way he said it put me off

I was going to ask more but my brother arrived and was understandably upset that I was once again interrogating his fiancé, he told me that “if I do anything like that one more time I’d be uninvited to his wedding” I agreed to not do it any further but pointed out I was only doing it because I love him and don’t want to see him get hurt, he said he understands but he truly love him and knows he loves him back

So the wedding came it was nice, my brothers best friend (along with his wife) cried, after the main ceremony I brought it up with some of the guests about how my brother’s now husband grew up and about his serial killer mom, some of the guests ignored me, others said they never would have guessed, but there was this one guy who thought I was right that he was suspicious

We ended up talking about it for a bit and he said he thought it weird that prior to the neighbours calling the police there had never been any attempts to contact them and I agreed and once again confronted my brother’s now husband (hey I never said I would stop) he told me the same things as before but I couldn’t accept it this time something was up I kept pressing on it and eventually he ran off

Unfortunately my brother saw him run off and got very mad though he didn’t confront me until after the wedding was over and instead went after his husband, they didn’t end up returning and the party ended an hour before it should have and the whole time everyone was worried about where the two (thought mostly my brother’s husband) were

When I got home I got a call from my brother, he was upset and asked “how I could do such a thing” and “I really upset *redacted*” I explained that I felt his husband was suspicious and he shouldn’t be upset I wad just trying to protect him, he yelled that “he didn’t need protection” and “*redacted* was a wonderful man, whom I hurt for no reason beyond my unfathomable distrust in whoever my brother chooses” and hung up

I called him back and he told me “he doesn’t want to talk to me right now”

TL;DR I was highly suspicious of my brother’s fiancé and in that suspicion ended up ruining his wedding aita?

[skeleton-squid-boy]

I just watched Promising Young Woman and I thought it was great but I've seen a load of people say they didn't like it, the two main reasons seem to be that it wasn't a cathartic ending and that the police were the solution, but it not being cathartic was the whole point??? It made it so much more real and hard hitting and horrifying. The thing about the police seemed more of a good reason but then I thought abt it and I actually think the police rep was really good, the police didn't help at all during either investigation despite evidence and suspicion in both cases and in cassie's case they're unwillingness to investigate and victim blame was very explicit and it wasn't until unavoidable evidence was spread to the public that anything was done (and they never actually showed if they were prosecuted)

I thought the acting was amazing, the soundtrack was great, the representation of 'nice guys' was perfect and the ending was a powerful message about how difficult it is to hold men accountable/admit guilt or for women to get any justice

[loveinequinox]

PART I

twilight fic:: edward x f!reader

[[Bella moved to Jacksonville, finally sick of Edwards antics and vanishing behaviour. It was hard for her, but necessary. You moved into Forks a few months later, the Cullens returning in search for Bella, find her gone. Depressed, frustrated and ultimately melancholic Edward wishes to be alone, but regressing to his more vampirish instincts, you become the victim of his misery.]]

tw: stalky man baby vampire

Forks. Rainy, gloomy, cloudy Forks. A constant overhanging grey shadow cast over the town, the slightest green tinge from the surrounding forests leaking its way into the mist. It was the atmosphere of a post apocalyptic block buster, or a depression pit. Yet this little gloom dump was your home, your heritage and claimed the majority of your memories. The town heralded the beginning of your family tree, with your great-great grandmother making her way to America from the Europes, alone and determined to live the American Dream, she set up camp in Forks. Working diligently as a house maid, waitress and eventually town council. Your family blended quite nicely into the operations of Forks. It made coming back to school here and seeing the run down buildings that little bit sweeter.

Easier even.

You had spent some time in Pennsylvania with your aunt and uncle, sure the weather wasn’t all that different, albeit sunnier but that wasn’t tough competition for Forks. Missing Lititz architecture and colour, Forks looked so drab in comparison. Still, this was home. These were your roots. You came home to take care of your grandfather after all, it was senior year, you’d survive these few months.

Unlocking the front door to the two story panelled house on the suburbs, you yell a ‘hello?’, pausing to listen for a response.

“There you are! Welcome, welcome. Oh, how I’ve missed you my dear.” Grandpa wraps speckled sagging arms around you. Arms that once chopped lumber and hunted big game.

Age was a slow and sad process.

“Hey Grandpa, I missed you too!” You hug him tight, his mind was still as in tune as it had always been. It was his body that was failing him, the arthritis gnawing at his bones and the parkinson’s forbidding any steady, sure movements.

“I was just heading to the store to grab some milk for coffee, I won’t be long Chicky.” Chicky. The adored nickname gifted to you by Grandma, long before her… passing.

“No Grandpa, don’t you move a muscle. I’m here to help for a reason.” Setting down your bags, you move back towards the door. “I won’t be a minute, turn the kettle on.” He looks as though he’d protest but instead smiles. Turning to complete the task assigned. You close the door behind you, skipping down the steps. Walking down the cracked pavement of the ancient house, you catch a glimpse of the police cruiser pulling up next door. Out comes Chief Charlie Swan. It’s been years since you’d seen that guy. He notices you walking by his home place, turning to greet you as is custom in small towns. His eyes narrow for a second before he wags a finger in recognition.

“Toms daughter, right?” Charlie locks the car with a beep before turning to face you.

“It is indeed sir. Good to see you again!”

“It’s been a while since you’ve been in town. You’ve grown Durrow, you remind me of-“ Durrow, your last name. He paused for a second, swallowing back rising emotions. “remind me of my daughter Bella. You remember her, right?”

“How could I not? Who else was going to help me on my adventures through the woods.” He gives a small smile. “How’s she been Chief? Haven’t seen her in centuries.”

“She moved to Phoenix with her mom a couple years ago, came back for a little while until her mom moved. She’s down in Jacksonville now.” His shoulders were tensed as an uneasy glance was thrown to the tree line.

“Well send her my best Chief.”

“John inside? Might pop in to say hello.”

“I’m sure he’d love the company, I have to run down to the shop for some milk.”

“I’ll go keep him entertained then.”

“Front door is open Chief!” Starting back down the broken pavement and pot hole road towards town. Chief Swan nods, looking at the ground, then grabbing a jacket from the cruiser and making his way to your home.

Was it always this bitter in Forks? Holy was it cold. Rounding the corner, the store front jutted above the street ahead. Cars bumbled by, some boy racers revving at the sight of a new girl in town. Such dogs.

Ahead a young woman with waist length umber hair stood on her phone. Why did that stance look so familiar? She turned slowly to you, head still in her phone as she began to walk towards you.

“Odile?” You half shouted at the young woman. Her head snapped up and a beaming smile met you.

“No. Way.” Her jaw now dropped, as she stood in shock staring at you. Your childhood bff, bestie forever, soulmate, platonic lover. Whatever you wished to name it, Odi and you had been inseparable till your move to Lititz. You tried to keep in contact, but in seperation people naturally grow apart and adapt to the others leaving. “Holy shit! You look so different!” Meeting in the middle, she ogles at your growth spurt and matured body.

“It’s been so long Odi, how’ve you been?” She meets your eyes again with a dazzling smile.

“Same old same old. Our old mischiefs sprinkled with maturity and easier access to alcohol and nicotine.”

“Sounds like you’ve been busy.”

“Hah! You could say that. Hey, do tell, what’re you doing back here?” She pulled the oversized hoodie around her tighter, the wind bringing a bitter chill with it as it nipped at her neck.

“Taking care of Papa, the arthritis is getting too much for him.”

“Awh poor ol’ John. You coming back to school?”

“I’m starting Tuesday.”

“Not too bad. I gotta run but let me grab your number first.” Quickly handing her your cell, she expertly punches your number in her phone. “We’ve got so much to catch up on. I’ll call you later alright? Great seeing you, girl.”

“Great seeing you too, Odi.” You smiled as she skipped off down the pavement, vanishing a few yards down around a corner towards the centre of town. Always the confident boss woman of your year, she was a force to be reckoned with even on her good days. Continuing the task at hand, you get to the store, making small talk with the clerk as you grabbed biscuits and milk.

You forgot how dark it got early in the evening during winter in Forks. The night already shrouded the town, coating it in shadows and highlighting its high points with a full moon. Thankful for the the layers on you, the cold didn’t bite too much, although your red fingers and numb nose would disagree.

As you passed Bella Swans childhood home you couldn’t help but wonder, where was she now? Last you had heard she had been messing around with a family that moved to Forks five years ago, that tad bit of gossip had come from Odi. You stopped and stared up at her bedroom window, a room where you had conjured up games upon games as kids. You wondered if that family had something to do with her leaving, from what Odi had said she was barely in classes and constantly getting hurt in some extreme ways. Depression etc. You felt sorry for her, remembering your time as kids when she was a care free little girl.

Her parents divorce must’ve affected her in more ways than one.

You’re passing the hedge between the two houses, lights illuminating the living room so you can see the shadows of Charlie and Grandpa. A smile comes to your face, crinkling the corners of your eyes. It was nice to be home. You couldn’t say you never missed Forks, this was home. It always would be.

Twigs snap in the forest and you snap your gaze to them, heart beat quickening. Sounds in the dark were not to be trusted, especially after what happened to grandma. You quicken your pace, walking across the front lawns instead of the pavement to grandpa’s house.

“Who are you?”

A small, velvet voice speaks from around the corner of the building, concealed in the nights shadows. You keep your head down, you remembered what you’d been taught. Don’t entertain them.

“I said, who are you.” The voice was commanding, dominating. The sultry, silky tone vanished, replaced with a rasping half shout. You ignore whoever it was, stepping up the steps to the house.

The door swings open, “You’re back! We were getting worried, it got dark.” Grandpa hollers your name to Charlie, followed by a “Shes back!” He turns down the hallway and into the kitchen, leaving you on the steps.

That voice says your name.

Then says it again.

They chuckle, shifting somewhere beside the house. You could feel their hard stare boring into your side. Gripping the milk and biscuits you move to hurry up the steps. “I’ll be seeing you.” Whoever it was turned and left. So silent yet you could feel the emptiness of their presence, the loss of that stare. You were shaking, heart thumping in your chest. Who the fuck was that?

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Brothers in Arms: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Summary: You try one more time to get your dad to see how great of a man Spencer is but like before, it doesn’t go as well as you hope. Phoenix Arizona is dealing with a serial killer that is masquerading as gang members, but your team sees through the facade.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

x

"We are all brothers under the skin, and I, for one, would be willing to skin humanity to prove it." - Ayn Rand

Summer is almost over which means the cooler temperatures are right around the corner. Virginia is cooling down in the month of September, but you get to go to Phoenix, Arizona for the case you're on. It's going to be a nice change of weather, and it's close enough to your parents that maybe you can visit them. They don't get along with Spencer, but maybe if you push him onto them, they will give up being stubborn and start to see him as someone you love.

Right now, you have to focus on the case at hand. Two officers were killed in action, and the news is on the Phoenix Police Department regarding the issue. Earlier in the evening, the Phoenix Police Force lost two of their own. Sergeant Manuel Rodriguez and Officer Thomas Kayser were killed in the line of duty.

"That's three officers in the past four days," Jordan addresses everyone. "After the first shooting, the Phoenix Police Department assumed gang involvement."

"That's a pretty reasonable assumption."

"True. Almost thirty percent of all officer slayings are gang-related."

"Technically it's closer to forty percent," Spencer corrects. "If a cop isn't killed during the commission of a crime, gang involvement is highly likely."

"Actually, their precinct commander believes it may be a serial and has asked for our help."

"What makes him doubt the gang theory?" Rossi asks.

"A couple of things. Last night's victims were killed exactly the same as the first, shot in the neck. That's something the press didn't release."

"Well, now, wait. There could still be a gang behind this. Killers working together could establish the same MO," Emily states.

"Commander Marks hasn't ruled it out, but there's another detail. The killer took their badges, which I'm guessing is some kind of trophy?"

Jordan is picking up a lot of things while at her time here, but you don't think she will last long by herself.

"Gang members don't usually take trophies. They don't need to. This is an unsub with something to prove, and he's got the entire city on edge. If they kill those who protect and serve, then no one feels safe."

The briefing is cut short so that you can get to Phoenix faster, and you're one of the first ones out of the room. Phoenix is only four and a half hours away from Las Vegas, and you might not be able to leave to go to them, but if they want to come down to you, then you'll give them that option.

After leaving them a detailed message, you gather your go bag and head to the plane where only Spencer is. The others still have twenty minutes to get to you, so you'll enjoy the alone time you both have.

"Hey, I let my parents know that we're going to Phoenix. If they come down, will you go to lunch or dinner with me? This is my last chance to make them like you."

"I don't know," Spencer says with uncertainty.

"Please? It would mean a lot to me."

Spencer has a light bulb go off in his head. If he agrees to lunch, then he can look more into the foster business your parents have. It's not snooping if it's casual conversation.

"Sure. I think we can make that work."

"Thank you."

The rest of the team comes aboard shortly, and before you know it, you're in the air. Hotch has Penelope on video chat so she can be part of this discussion without actually being here.

"Go ahead, Garcia."

"Okay, while you birds have been in the air, I got the 4-1-1 on the first shooting. Every Saturday night, Phoenix PD sets up a DUI checkpoint. Everyone knows it happens. Public awareness is part of the deterrent, so our unsub blows past said checkpoint at ninety miles per hour and is pursued by Officer Jason Kessinger. Kessinger pulls the car over and approaches the driver's side window where he is shot in the throat. He was a single parent with two daughters."

"So, the unsub planned ahead, used the DUI stop to set his trap and then lured the officer to his death. It could have been personal. The unsub might have had a problem with these particular officers or with law enforcement in general. He's sending a message."

"Criminals, gang members, academy washouts, security, and teenagers? The list of people who have a problem with police officers is a long one," Spencer says.

"The victims were shot in the neck so the unsub knew they'd be wearing body armor, and he used a DUI checkpoint. I mean, both incidents show an active understanding of police procedure which narrows it down to anybody who watches television."

"We need to cover victimology. Garcia, find out everything you can about the officers killed and see what they had in common besides their uniforms."

"Will do, but I should warn you, it will not be cake because I have been on the phone with these guys all morning, and pulling files from them has been like pulling molars."

"Is there a problem?"

"You know, aside from the obvious grief for their fallen comrades and their fear of being used as target practice, I get the distinct impression from their crabby behavior, they are none too pleased their boss is outsourcing this investigation to the FBI. Be prepared to hit a blue wall of resistance."

A blue wall of resistance is exactly what you got when you arrived at the police department. There are news reporters outside waiting for comments about what happened, but you bypass them to get inside. Commander Jason Marks is ready to greet you as soon as you walk in.

"Commander Marks, I'm SSA Hotchner. This is agent Todd, agents Rossi, Prentiss, Morgan, Y/N, and Dr. Spencer Reid."

"I thank you all for coming. Although, I'd like to have a word if you don't mind." Hotch steps off to the side to talk to him, and the Commander turns to one of his men who is talking to a distraught woman. "Lieutenant Peter Evans will answer any questions the rest of you may have."

The Commander walks with Hotch to his office and Evans excuses himself to greet your team.

"Sorry, that was Officer Kayser's wife. They'd only been married a couple of months. She seems to think that the FBI is here to save the day. Is that what you're going to do, Agents?"

You raise your eyebrows at his attitude. He's cocky and skeptical. He doesn't want you here at all since he thinks he can handle it on his own. After all, these are his people and you're strangers. They're all so sure this is gang-related, but you have a job to do. He's ordered to help you in every way he can, so Emily and Derek head to the newest crime scene.

According to Evans, this side of town is Twelve's territory which is the gang that is prominent in this area. Evans thinks they're behind all of the shootings, but he acts like it doesn't matter because the gang is the easy way out.

The Twelves gang has a Captain who goes by the name of Playboy. One of the officers broke up a drug ring and shot his brother who was DOA. They thought Playboy would kill them all. It's a strong motivation, for sure, but the dashcam only showed one attacker. Usually, gang bangers bring more than one person as a backup in case something were to happen.

The only problem with that is the dash cam only showed one attacker, but the attacker showed his face on camera. The running theory is that he wanted to take both of the cops out at the house, but they broke protocol. One of the officers approached the house by himself, forcing the unsub to take them out separately. The officer could have waited inside the car and gained the element of surprise, but he wanted to take matters into his own hands.

The choice of neighborhoods was deliberate since the neighbors are used to hearing gunfire. Everyone will blame it on the gangs and so will the police. The worst thing about this is that everyone with force knows he's out there, and even with the extra backup, Phoenix PD is still going to have to do their jobs.

They could walk into an ambush every time they take a call, and that's the scary part. Penelope and the Phoenix PD techs have gone over the dashcam of the recent murder frame by frame, but there is no way to identify the shooter. The only thing you're getting is approximate height and weight. The unsub's face isn't the only way to identify him, though. You have to look at specific behavioral traits."

"These are the reasons you don't believe it's a gang?" Commander Marks asks when you explain this to him.

"The shooter established what we call a signature, something he did during the murders that wasn't actually necessary. Not part of his MO but identical in every attack."

"In this case, the unsub took the officer's badges. He's symbolically stripping them of their power and authority. This act is indicative of someone who is looking to gain self-esteem."

"Gang members and other assailants who work together kill for different reasons, but usually it's not to gain confidence because they already have it."

In the video, the unsub lingers by the body when taking the badges off the officer. Usually, it would take a few seconds to take that, but the unsub lingers longer than usual.

"Hotch, did you see that? Can we pause this?" Spencer asks the tech who is controlling the video. "Okay, now zoom in and press play. Taking the badge would have taken a few seconds. He's lingering."

"Doing what?" Marks asks.

"That's a good question."

Your phone rings when your dad sends you a message. He and your mom are available for lunch, and you have some time to step away from the job for an hour, at least. This might be the only time you can step away from the job.

"Hotch? My parents want to go to lunch with me. Can Spencer and I go for an hour?"

"Yes. Be ready to come back if we call you."

"Of course."

Spencer isn't too excited to go to lunch with your parents, but you're going to make sure they behave. Your mom isn't as bad as your dad is, but you can tell that she isn't too fond of you having a long-term boyfriend. All throughout your life, whenever you told them you were in a relationship, they either ran them off or became too involved to the point where they left.

"Please be nice to him," you whisper to your dad when you greet him.

Spencer shakes your dad's hand, but your dad isn't too friendly toward him. You four take a seat just as the waitress comes over with some bread. She takes the drinks orders and leaves, and you turn to your parents with a smile.

"Thank you for inviting us."

"I invited you," your dad says.

If this is how lunch is going to go, then you're going to leave right now. Spencer doesn't deserve the shit he's putting him through.

"Can we please be civilized here? We're all adults. I'm not a child anymore. Spencer isn't like my high school boyfriends."

"I know."

"So, are you in town for business?" your mother asks.

"Yes. We're on a case here"

"What do you do, Spencer? I mean, for the FBI. Aren't all agents supposed to be strong when they're in the field?"

Spencer is taken aback by the question, but before he has a chance to answer, you stick up for him.

"First of all, he is strong. He's one of the strongest people I know. Secondly, he does so much in the field for the team. He's also very smart, and I'm very proud of him because of it."

"Tell me something. While you're so busy reading books and studying, how do you expect to protect my baby girl?"

This was such a bad idea. You shouldn't have brought him here. In some twisted way, you thought you could get him to like Spencer, but it's clearly never going to happen. Your dad bullies him whenever they meet, and you can't subject Spencer to this anymore.

"Mom?" you sigh.

"I mean, he has a point," she shrugs.

"I can protect her," Spencer answers.

"Are you the kind of person to run into a burning fire for her? Or are you the one to stay on the sidelines and watch it happen?"

"Dad, please stop," you whisper to him.

"Do you know about her past?"

It's like he's not even listening to you.

"Can we not do this here, please?" you groan uncomfortably.

"I do, but I'd never hurt her like that."

"What if someone comes up and just grabs her off the streets? Would your tiny arms be able to protect her? What if you don't make it in time?"

"Okay, that's enough," you say a little too loudly. "If you don't stop right now, I'm taking Spencer and leaving. You will never see me again. Do you understand me?"

Your dad finally looks at you, and it's like the film has been lifted from his eyes. His eyes don't soften, but he hears the threat in your words.

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"Alright," your mom chuckles to try and break the tension. "How are you doing in Virginia?"

"I'm fine. Virginia is beautiful. You should really come to visit when you get a chance."

"You should really move back home," your dad comments. "We always need help on the farm."

"You have enough help with the kids you're fostering."

"They don't stay long enough to know what to do. They're only staying for a few weeks."

"I actually wanted to know more about that, sir," Spencer says. "I've been curious about your business since Y/N told me about it. If you don't mind me asking, how are they getting adopted so quickly?"

"What do you mean?"

"The average time it takes for a child to get adopted is six to eighteen months. That's mostly because of paperwork and legal aspects. You said they are gone in a few weeks, so how is that possible?"

"A lot of people want to adopt," your dad narrows his eyes at Spencer.

"Can we please move on to a different subject? I never intended for this lunch to be an interrogation." You turn to Spencer. "Those kids should be lucky they're going into a loving home."

Your dad's eye twitches at the word "loving", but you and Spencer miss it. For the rest of the lunch, the tension stayed an unwelcome guest. Right before dessert, Hotch called you to come back because there is a new crime scene. He gave you the address to go to instead of going back to the police department.

"I don't know why you're being so hard on him. Why are you being like this?" you ask as you and Spencer stand to leave.

"I'm sorry, baby."

You hug your mom first before going over to your dad. He squeezes a bit too tightly, so you pull away sooner than he'd like. He grabs your wrist and you gasp from how tight he's holding it.

"Ow, you're hurting me."

"Oh no, I'm so sorry."

As soon as he lets go, you see the outline of his fingers forms. He smooths your hair back and kisses your forehead. They both pay for you and Spencer and as you're leaving, you rub your wrist absentmindedly.

"He left a bruise on your wrist?" Spencer asks when he opens the car door for you.

"It was an accident. It's fine."

x

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[yallfavblkgirl]

𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑, 𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐱𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫!

𝐬𝐮𝗺𝗺𝐚𝐫𝐲 ➜ ethan tells you that he’s ghost face.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➜ blood, talks about death, and angst with a happy ending.

you’re a killer~ you walked your dorm as you watched the news. your roommate was out to party and you couldn’t hang out with sam, chad, tara, or mindy because they were talking to the police tonight because they were victims of ghost face. “a sick fuck.” you whispered to yourself as you watched the tv, you heard a knock at the door and you went to answer it.

but before you went to answer it, you grabbed your bat and walked slowly to the door. you grabbed the knob and took a deep breath before opening it, you jumped when you saw your boyfriend ethan. “fuck! baby you scared me.” you said and chuckled, “oh sorry my love didn’t mean to.” ethan said and hugged you.

you closed the door behind him as he walked to your couch and sat down, you sat down with him. “i have something exciting to tell you.” ethan said with a smile and you nodded, “it sounds exciting because you seem very happy.” you said with a big smile.

“i’m ghost face.” he said still smiling at you and you just shook your head and laughed, “no you’re not!” you laughed even harder because you just couldn’t believe that he would kill anyone, “you’re not that type of person.” you said to him as his smile faded and you looked at him.

“ethan, tell me your lying.” you said and he just looked at you, your whole body froze up and fell your heart beating out of your chest. “oh god.” you said as you put your hands on your face and started crying, “no no no, baby! don’t cry,” he said as he lift your face softly by your chin. “this is great! i can finally fight and get sam back for killing my brother.” ethan said and wiped your the tears off you face but it didn’t help much.

“ethan i thought- you said that your brother died in a car accident.” you could barely form words because your hands were shaking and you couldn’t even look at him. “you lied to me…you’re a killer!” you whispered to him and he just looked at you with tears in his eyes. ethan stood up making fear run through your body, “i’m not a killer…sam is the fucking killer! SHE KILLED MY FUCKING BROTHER!” ethan yelled at you making you cry even more.

you couldn’t take this anymore, you were confused because you didn’t know if you could believe anything that came out of his mouth. ethan pasted around your house and it was making your mind go crazy, you loved ethan very much and hearing this didn’t make you feel different but it made you sick to your stomach to hear that he was killing people for fun and that the people he was trying to kill were your friends. “baby listen,” ethan said and walked back over to you.

he got on his knees and sat in front of you, you had mascara running down your face and you looked so numb. “you know i would never hurt you. i love you, i’m doing this for you…for us.” ethan said with a smile on his face and you just looked down, for moment you thought about how sam would feel about this but then again you thought about all the times that sam snapped on you for no reason.

which made you think about how much you hated sam, and the only reason you were putting up with her is because you didn’t want to lose anymore friends. because tara was always nice to you and never let sam get under your skin, you looked up at him and you smirked. “i love you ethan.” you said as he had a big smile on his face.

“i love you more y/n.”

𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑, i making scream 6 imagines now 😦

[braindead94]

Little blue lady and the big black cat 18+

Werecat!Andres x Cop!Reader

Happy Spooky Month! Today is werecat Andres Galan for Spooky month and it's a frisky night tonight! Hope Ya'll enjoy!

TW: Gun Violence, blood, Magic, magical violence, Minors DNI, reader is a cop, horrible spanish spelling (on my part)

A happy sigh left your smiling lips as you sat back in your seat. The patrol today turned out to be a nice one, even if it was in LA. Nothing wrong living here, but as a cop… well, the media just loves to bash on the boys in blue and the public has a thing or two to add to that.

You looked at the moving imagery of the people and buildings outside of your moving vehicle, your partner bobbing his head in the tune of the song from the radio.

You and Buddy just diddly bop by some neighborhoods, met up with some kids playing basketball (and shot some hoops with them), met up with some friendly veterans who (kinda) took over a bench overlooking a playground, and help a man moving his stuff out of his ex apartment (mostly to make sure she wouldn’t make any false accusations on him, the poor man has been through enough already).

Then got a noise complaint from a part that was being too loud with raunchy music that turned out to be a Quinseanera party for a lovely 15 year old girl who invited almost everyone in her neighborhood (except for that one lady, which you two quickly learned why, cranky old bitch). The parents were super nice enough to give you two some delicious pastries and some soft tacos for the road.

“Feeling good?” Asked Buddy as he glanced around with an aloof attitude. “Feeling full. Man, that family is super chill and are great cooks. I’m kinda tempted to just patrol past their streets again if they are handing out some free food again.” He laughed as he said “Well, I asked around the family and they are the proud owners of a family restaurant that has been here for a long time.” “Pleeeaase tell me you got the restaurant's name?” He gave you a smirk with a nod, earning himself a high-five from you before continuing on to keep a look out at the streets.

You glanced outside too as you sat straighter, just to be safe. This part of the city was not the safest to be around, even for the police. Normally, those activities involve some gang violence, something about stepping onto their turf or some bullshit that these punks got into their heads. Lately though, it has gotten worse. Now the little gangs are disappearing as the bigger threat, the bigger fish that eat the little fish, wipe them all with very little effort. 

Now there are signs of drug dealings, mini fight clubs and even sex trafficking; and the people are starting to get affected by them. Weirdly enough, some of the markings on the victim's body had animal marks, so your lab concluded that they have been using animals to kill them off. Really big cats.

Though it is becoming clear (or allegedly) that the main gang belonged to the notorious leader, Andres Galan, or as many mexican folks would call him “El Gran Leon”. Based on what pictures you've seen of him (which you admit that he is very attractive, but that was your secret to keep), from news blogs and from the evidence room, he does resemble a little bit like a lion. Or somewhat a regal feline animal. Or just a fat cat.

How he evaded their countless times of arrests, you never know. Only relying on one rumor that when the first, and only, guy to slap handcuffs on him, Galan snapped his body in two. Looking back at the mob boss, you doubt that he has the strength to pick up even a tall child above his head unless he was a secret powerlifter.

Regardless, he was still dangerous and had a warrant on him for years before you joined the police force. You and Buddy kept silent as you dove on peacefully when you came upon a secret strip club that was closed this time of night.

“Hey, what’s that?” Looking up, you saw what he was pointing at.

A black fancy looking car parked inside of a dark alleyway, and just stepping out was the man in question was none other than Andres Galan followed by one burly man. The Mexican boss walked up and into a hidden door with a stripper logo, turned off, and the man stood beside the door with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Buddy stopped right there, both of you staring at this bizarre chance of an opportunity before you looked at each other in a comical fashion. Quickly, he parked it close to the sidewalk (almost on top of it) as you called it into the station.

The reception turned out to be bad, you furrowed your eyebrows at the not fun coincidence of it all before Buddy ready his gun at your side. “I’m not getting a clear call from them. We shouldn’t go in if this gets out of hand.” 

“No, this man has somehow evaded our arrests and has gotten a lot of good people hurt and killed. He needs to be taken down now.” You sighed as he jumped out and moved quietly to the brick wall of the building while rechecking if you have all of your gear in your belt. You followed suit, also drawing your gun out.

He peeked around the corner, and you stood stiff, ready for anything. Your partner motioned ‘lets go’ and you followed closely behind him. The muscular man was whistling a tune when he cocked his gun at him. “Put your hands behind your head, and don't make any sudden moves.” The man just looked down at him, seemingly unbothered but slowly complied. 

You trained your gun on him while Buddy took out the cuffs with ease and tightened the metal bands on him. “Y/n, you go in and scope out the place. See if you can find Galan and stop him from whatever he’s doing.”

“You two are making a big mistake. You might want to skip out on making arrests tonight.” Said the man with a shaved head with a smirk that was held in a secret. Your eyebrows furrowed down at his words, your gut bubbling with worry. ‘How is he this calm?’ You wondered. “The biggest mistake I’ve made today was eating too many soft tacos. Now, I’m going to read you your rights and you are going to follow my every order. Understand?” Buddy commanded in his deadpan voice that demanded attention.

The man smirk then showed his teeth, his tongue sticking out to lick the crooked canines. “Of course, officer. Anything you say.” He said with a hot and eager voice. An uncomfortable tingle slithered up your spine when you heard his voice as you entered the club.

It was a lot smaller than the other strip clubs you’ve seen, but a hella nicer than others. More fancy with plush furniture, blackened marble tables and an elegant stage with poles erected from the floor to the ceiling. Even the air didn’t smell like sex or drugs, it smelled like… flowery spices or something warm. It almost made you want to take off your bulletproof vest, but you ignore it. The whole establishment showed wealth and the guise of a gentleman's club, and luckily has no patrons.

But no Andres, however there was a short, curvy woman who stood frozen near a closed door. She looked tired, frightened with some of her make-up still caked on her sudden face and a blue, fluffy robe clutched around her body. Her golden curls rain down on her shoulders beautifully, covering her ears as well. She stared at you, her body shaking like a leaves on a tree in the wind. 

You immediately lowered your gun and made yourself look friendly but kept your distance. Just in case. “Hey hun, I’m sorry for startling you. But I’m here for Andres Galan, do you know where he is?” The woman only stares back at you. Her eyes almost threw you off, they were the brightest color of purple you’ve ever seen. Not humanly possible, but you pushed it aside as contacts.

“A-are you going to arrest him?” her voice was shaken, her body swaying towards the door. You nodded as you explained “Yes, he has an arrest on him for a while and needs to be taken in for his crimes. I understand you have a job to do, ma’am, but there are better clubs that have better and kinder bosses and staff without having to entertain crime lords like him.”

She frowned, making her face look unpleasant and sour. There was a slight buzzing sound coming from her and her robe moved a bit. “My boss treats me and the girls just right. I don’t need anyone else, or any other places!” You apologize, trying to keep her calm with a lower and softer tone with her. 

“Just-please, ma’am. I need to find him and take him in. He has done a lot of harm and had people killed. He has traffic drugs, sex traffic and that’s only the scratch on top of the iceberg. You don’t have to go anywhere, but you need to leave tonight.” She paused, the windows of her eyes showing you a great debate in her mind. 

 “So, you’re going in and just… arrest him in handcuffs? Just like that?” You frowned, puzzled at her how sudden her voice became stronger. The way she's looking at you with unknown hatred and distrust, it didn’t sit right with you. ‘What type of question is that?’ “Yes, I will. I don’t want you to get hurt, so I need you to go somewhere safe.” ‘Shit, is she loyal to him? Perhaps he’s her favorite customer-’ She cut off your thinking process as she pointed at the door she was near. Her eyes clear with a decision made, but also with her body slumped in relief.

“He’s in there, waiting for me. Good luck tying him down, sweetie.” She said with a mockingly sweet tone before she walked off fast on her high heels. Your eyes just followed her as she sauntered away into a staff only door, taken aback of her change of attitude. ‘What is her problem? Should I get this place looked into?’ 

You refocused to the door and schooled your face to remain neutral, cocking your gun at the ready, finger off the trigger and your body stiff with anticipation. ‘Deep breath, in…and out…. okay.’ 

You barged in, no knocking or any warning and came face to face with Andres, the big so-called ‘lion’. Still wearing his gray suit and his cream shirt still buttoned up standing near a desk with a notebook and pencil. The room was dark like the outside, but had pink furniture, the bed with see-through curtains, a cozy chair and the desk he was at. 

Andres turned sharply; his dark eyes boring into yours as you raised the gun at him as his wavy dark with silver hair swept away in the air. Your eyes quickly darted around the room and saw that he was the only one inside.

“Andres Galan, you have a warrant for your arrest. You have the right to remain silent as I read you your rights. Failing to comply will result in physical harm.” You gave him the same command that Buddy did to the first man as you stood firm, followed up with his rights being told to him.

The tall, portly (and hot, holy fuck! Why is he this good looking?) man just raised a thick eyebrow at you, smiling through his mustache and stubble beard as if he heard a good joke. Nodding his head while gesturing at your uniform, he starts talking in a baritone voice. “I see you girls have amped up your costumes. Gun looks real too-” 

He stopped as he sniffed the air, then frowned. His nose sniffed again as his big eyes looked at your tool of weapon in your still hands, then to your name tag on your heavy vest. You ignored his comment and stalked closer to him. “I will not repeat myself; put your hands behind you.”

Andris placed his notebook on the desk with a “Ah, I see. I don’t suppose I could buy your silence of seeing me tonight?” Your scowling face told him off. “Well then,” Then the Latino held his hands in front of him, his smile returning, but with a dark twist in his lips and a hunger in his dark eyes. “Take me away, Officer Y/n. I’m all yours.” 

That same feeling from the first guy returned, but much stronger when you cuffed Galan's hands from behind. Once the taller man was secured, you radio Buddy on your walkie talkie with a firm hand on the mob boss jacket. Probably the closest you’ll ever feel actual expensive silk for a while. “Officer Bently, do you copy?”

Static was your reply, and the feeling grew as the milliseconds ticked by. “Officer Bently, do you copy?” You asked again but didn’t get anything but static again. “Shit.” You muttered as you made Galan sit down on the pink armchair, acting along with your directions. “Anything wrong, Senora Y/n?” You turned to look at him, sitting back and relaxed (as relaxed as one could with both hands cuffed behind his back) and looking up at you, like a cat looking innocently after knocking something off the table.

You glanced at him to stay silent, then almost froze how his gaze looked. His handsome, plumb face, his dark eyes, that damn smile just oozes mischievous.

Something isn’t right.

“Bently, I need you to answer me now.” Your voice was harsher with begging, worry laced in with your tone. It was only that one guy that Andris was with, right? Was there more in the car? Static filled in the blanks until it was cut off by Buddys voice, which sounded frantic as he shouted “Y/N! You need to get out!”

 Your hand reached for your gun as you moved to the door. “Bently! Talk to me-” But your radio was cut off too short, leaving you standing near the door with your hand on your holster. Your heart beating fast, the all too familiar feeling of fear coursed through your veins along with powerlessness.

You hated that feeling.

Taking out your phone turned out to have the same results, no reception and no chance of calling backup. “Looks like you need to get your phone plan rechecked, Senorita Cerda.” Your back straightens out as you turn around with your blood heated that shoves aside the uncomfortable feeling. “Despite what I look like, I actually know how to speak Spanish. So lay off the insults and maybe your ride to jail won't be in broken arms, anciano.” 

He just let out a laugh, still relaxed even after your threat, and that made your anger grow more. However, now was not the time to get mad and Buddy needed help. But you can’t leave Andries alone.

You spotted the pink phone and made for it, ready to dial 911. Just as you were finished dialing it in, you looked at your suspect and froze.

He was still looking at you with those damn, hooded eyes and that smirk on his plump face. Still sitting with his hands folded in his lap, watching your every move-

…….His hands were supposed to be cuffed behind his back.

You stormed in front of him as you grabbed the second handcuffs. “Nice magic trick, gatito, but the next time you pull that again, you’ll come in with broken wrists.” You said, just before he grabbed your hand in a tight hold. “Ah, so you have heard of me. This will make this much more interesting.” He said with his Spanish accent before he pushed you away.

You almost flew back to the wall, nearly stumbling with surprise just how strong he is, he didn’t even look like he used his whole strength to do that. ‘He’s just bigger and taller than you. Not like you have arrested anyone his size before.’ You think as your hands reach for your gun holster, but you froze again when you look, REALLY look at him.

The tall man slowly stood up, almost taller than you first saw him and started walking towards you slowly. You eyed his suit, how it clings to him as if it was too small for him. How the buttons on his shirt was straining against his chest (Holy FUCK does it detail his pecs nicely). His pants were straining against his hips and-

You avoided looking down.

This isn’t right. His clothes fit him when you first saw him. How did it change? You looked back at him and he almost chuckled at your questioning look. “Worried about my attire? There’s no need to be, I have plenty of others back home.” He said with a deep rumble in his voice.

“Stay back, or I will open fire.” You threaten as you draw your weapon. He stopped but didn’t back up, just eyes at your gun again and sighed in a tired tone while smoothing his hair back with his eyes closed. Like he was disappointed. “Y/n, it would be wise of you to not draw your weapons at me. You’ll end up getting harmed.”

His eyes opened back on you and a shiver jolted up your spin.

Andres' eyes changed into feline pupils, with glowing bright green eyes and black surrounding the green instead of whites. There was a sound of a button snapping off his shirt. You looked and saw his chest wider than before with dark hair growing on his skin. The sleeves ripping, bulging with muscles, controuting longer as well as his legs. He walked up to you again, like a cat stalking a prey.

Or like a lion.

Snapping out of your stupor stare, you aimed your gun at him, but his large hand, much larger now, grabbed hold of it. You shrek as you manage to withdraw your hand in time, and watch with growing horror as his fingers bend the metal. The magazine was dropped to the ground first before the end was bent out of shape. You saw with fear as his nails grew longer, sharper and darker.

Looking back at him, you backed away when you saw how his face changed too. Shit, you had to tilt your head back, for he grew taller again. More angler with black hair-no, fur sprouted on his skin. His hair grew too, darker that framed around his head and shoulders, like a mane. Andres smiled that only a cat could make, and his teeth looked SHARP.

“Well, what would you do now, mi Querido cerdito? You were speaking so boldly, so fierce,” He said, his voice deeper, rougher like gravel in honey. Your back hit the wall and your hands palmed at it like a lifeline, pushing at it if it could part open for you to escape. “But now you are so silent. What's wrong, cat got your tongue?” He chuckled, his laugh rumbled in his chest, which was still growing out of his suit.

He finally stood in front of you, laing a hand on the wall next to your head. You could hear how his bones are changing into something else, something monstrous. Still changing and not yet done!

A claw grazed under your chin, and you shivered as it trailed up and down your throat. His eyes never left yours, boring into yours with fiery intent; so much of a primal lust that no man or woman could make. “What pretty eyes you have there, with such lovely lips to match. I can’t wait to hear you squeal.” Your heart stilled that second.

Your hands immediately shot to your taser with practice ease and you shot him in the stomach. The taller man-creature, snarl in pain and stumbles back, giving you a wider area to escape.

You dashed out of the room and straight for the door, going past your record speed. Grasping at the door handle, you twisted it but it wouldn’t budge. 

Panic mixed in with fear as you tried to twist it again, only to pull at it, then kicking the door in hopes for any results. But the accursed metal door didn’t budge.

You hear more growling from the room along with more ripping and snapping. Sounds unnatural that only a horror movie could depict Something in your mind warning you that he was almost done, soon he’s ready to get out and hunt for you.

Looking around and spotting a few other doors, you dashed to one farthest away from where Andres was and went inside, closing and locking it. Looking around, you noted it was the same built as it is in the first one and you set out to barricade the door with the desk.

Then backed up with pepper spray in your trembling hand and in the other, your phone. You tried calling your captain. Nothing, just static. Then to your chief. More static. Sweat was trickling down your skin as you looked through your contacts for help until you heard heavy footsteps outside the room.

‘Fuck…. He’s out.’ You looked at the pink door, praying that Andres wouldn’t look for you. That he grew bored of you and went after… oh God, you couldn’t dream of having him hunting down another soul. Fuck! Is that what happened to Buddy?!

You were about to try another contact, another life line that hopefully would rescue you from this nightmare-

A long, hard scratch was made outside of your door.

You stood still, holding your phone. Looking at the door.

“Little pig, little pig, let me in.” Came a dark, husker voice with the crime lord's voice from behind the door. You backed up again until the back of your knees hit the bed. In your haze of dismay, you dropped your phone and almost along with your spray too. ‘This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening-’ You repeated in your head, tears starting to flow down your cheeks.

“If you come out now, I promise I won't harm a single hair on your little chin.” He said with a mocking, sweet tone that only made his voice sound more terrifying. You did nothing. “I can hear your heartbeat, Y/n.” There was another scratch on the door. It bends under the pressure, followed by a low growl. “It sounds sweet, like a bird confined in a cage. I can smell the fear in your blood, it smells so heavenly. There is no way out for you, and no cell to call from. It will only get worse if you continue to defy me. Open the door and let me in, bonito cobre.”

It took everything to yelled-no, screamed “FUCK OFF!!!” at the door. Following behind that was a low growl mixed with a elation laugh, as if he was dared for a challenge. “Then I’ll crush this door down,” The door bent again, but more closely to a breaking point. “And I’ll catch you,” He growled again, but much more deeper. More husker. And much more deadly, ready to create malignant destruction. “And I’ll make you beg for your life, little cerdita.”

You didn’t say anything, you didn’t dare move.

The door splintered as black claws punctured into it and ripped it away. In a blind panic kicked in with muscle memory of escape from your training, you dashed and slid on the floor under a dark mass that almost blocked your way like a baseball player. You stumbled up and turned to see your attacker, then completely fell down in horror.

The hulking thing-fuck, no…. a cat-lion-werelion, turned around to face you. God he was fucking TALLER then the last time you saw him. His whole body was wide as he was tall, with muscles covered in black fur, a tail swished gently behind him as his hinds legs moved towards you. You looked up, up, up at him and almost stopped moving.

His face, now very much like a lion, was grinning. Some gray fur was sprouting from his fluffy chin and around his cheeks and ears. Even his mane had some silver in it too. And his green eyes……. They bore into your frightened eyes, piercing like a dagger into a flying fish.

He growled in amusement as he knelt down on all fours, stalking you closer until he was nearly close to your trembling body. Like a lion stalking its prey, with his tail swaying behind him. “Well, what now, copper? Do you still want to try to cuff me again, or are you ready to lay down and be a good, little pig.”  

You glanced around the wide room, looking for anything in desperation for-wait! The staff room! A possible escape!

You shot your arm out and dosed his nose with the pepper. He hissed like an injured cat pricking its claw on a cactus and you sprinted to it, practically throwing your body against the door. You tried to turn the knob but it wouldn’t budge. You swore as you screamed for help, calling for the dancer whom you saw.

A muffled voice called out from behind the wooden door. “Just give up, bitch! It will be sooooo much easier to let him have at it, TRUST me. Make sure you use lots of lube!” “Please! He’s going to kill me!” “Ehhh, wouldn’t be the first time he spilt blood like this. Probably the main reason why he always asks for fairies to do him off. We are more capable of handling that fucking meat he’s packing.”

‘Fairies?!’ You think in that frantic state before giving up and throwing your body against the door again and again. There were some shouts of ‘Stop it’ and ‘We just paid off the paint in this joint!’ until a big hand slammed against your back, shoving your body against the door.

Before you could do anything, his face appeared on your shoulder with a bite that nearly pierced through your vest. You screamed loudly when you felt his teeth almost tearing into your skin. The hand, fuck-it was wider then your back, pushed your body harder onto the wood as his mighty jaws slowly clinch onto your shoulder harder, but never completed his bite. You cried as you begged him to stop while your hands tried to reach behind you.

Andres released your shoulder, leaving a bit of drool on your bulletproof vest (holy crap, his teeth can rip into it!) and shirt before he nosed into your hair. Smelling it before he whispered into your ear with a rumble in his voice, his body rumbled as he spoke. “Now, here’s what is going to happen, querida. If you continue to fight against me, I will not be kind.” 

You felt claws digging into your sides, nearly breaking your skin. “I will fuck your brains out with no regard for your wellbeing. You’ll be found in a dumpster, unrecognizable, all torn to pieces like a used sex doll. Or,” The werelion licked at the bite while the claws eased up on your sides. “If you comply, if you let me have you for tonight, I’ll be gentle.”

Your tears flowed down your cheeks as you blinked your eyes shut. Only to open them when his nose nuzzled into your face. “I can make you feel good, make it worth your while. You must be tired from your hazardise job, I can ease your tension. Then I’ll let you live on to protect those poor civilians you work so hard to protect. I’ll even tell Elvio to ease up on your partner.” You became *painfully* aware just how fucked you are, caged in by him. Your face was shoved against the wall, how you could FEEL him slouching over you, like a hulking wall of muscel and fur.

“Maybe I could even make you cum harder than anyone else has ever had, stuffed your little cunt until it overflows over my cock.” ‘ Oh Jesus have mercy.’ You think as your face turns red, trying to ignore how his voice with his stupid, hot spanish accent, what his promise made your insides feel. 

Maybe…… maybe you could survive this. Just for one night. Just…fuck the monster and hopefully he keeps his word and lets you and Buddy live.

You let out a whimper, trying to convey words into sentences. “O-o-okay-” His huge, furry head leaned against yours as his hand pressed harder again. “Hmm? Please speak up, darling. I didn’t quite catch that.” He asked with mockery in his deep voice and a smirk on his lips before it kissed your cheek.

You gasped in as much air as you could and shouted “Okay! Just-Please call him off Bently and-GAH!” You screamed as he backed up and flipped you on your back to the wall.

“All in good time, pequeno cerdo. But first, lets us get rid of this infernal vest of yours.” With only the tip of his claws and with one hand still around your neck, tore through your bulletproof vest. Your armor, your only shield becomes shredded like aluminum while ruining your shirt and bra. You shrek as your arms went to stop him in vain but Andres just held your hands and raised them over your head.

His dark eyes, the green just glowing with lust as he stared down at your breasts, how it moves when you're gasping for air, the slight plump of your stomach that almost overtook your abs, and how the muscles of your arms bulge out to break free. He saw a few fading bruises and little scars all over your body, reminding him of how dangerous your job really is besides patrolling the city and eating donuts.

Just look at you, your tear-stained face that still showed teeth at him, your wide eyes never leaving his own or his body. Full of fear, God, such delightful fear, but inside that fright sight of yours was a need. To protect your partner? Most likely. The need to take him down for his crimes? Absolutely. To fuck him? No, not possible what you really wanted.

He couldn’t lie to himself; you are just another cop just doing your job to protect these people like him and he had or shouldn’t be having these feelings for good cops. Yet, a hidden part of him just wanted to hold you in his clawed hands and never let you go, but that would compilated things later on. In fact, he should kill you off and let a corrupt cop take your place. That’s what a crime lord would do.

But he isn’t like most petty criminals, no. He’s a powerful one. A monster hidden among Humans.

Well, this monster is just drooling at how appetizingly helpless you look in his hands.

His nose nuzzles between your breasts, smelling your sweat. If you had the power to phase through walls, you would have done so to get away from his face so close to you. “Oh Y/n,” His voice purrs as he licks his way up to your neck. You cringe at the rough sandpaper like texture scraping up your skin-shit, you can’t ignore how good it feels. “I’m going to completely ruin you forever.” His face nuzzles into your neck, smelling the bite he left on your skin. “Tonight, I’ll make you mine.”

Those words should not have turned you on as it should. “G-g-great, but about my part-” You were cut off again with a yelp as he picked you up (with ONE HAND) and you were hugged against his soft, furry chest. The feeling of his padded fingers on your butt was the only warning you’ve got before he tore apart your pants and shoes too. Not even the underwear was spared.

You blinked as you're now naked in the arms of a tall werelion, who is a criminal boss in a stripper club. With a possibility to die by him, if he decided to go back on his word. You sent a silent prayer in hopes for survival as you gripped onto tufts of his fur (shit, they are super soft).

A clawed hand held you closer to his chest and you heard him purr again as you felt him moving. You glanced up and your blood turned cold when you saw him looking down at you with hunger in his eyes. “Now, let's retire and fulfill that deal, estimada cobre.”

[str8sub4domdudez]

Superboys Part Two Excerpt : Sunwing

Warning!

[Do not take anything from this excerpt as an example of a smart idea. I would not ever advise for someone to depend on their martial arts lessons take down someone threatening them with a gun. It's not smart, and it's very potentially deadly.]

«ж»ж«ж»ж«ж»ж«ж»ж«ж»

Chris and Dick fly through the city on their grapples. Chris has a tendency to float a bit, but quickly learns that he needs to keep tension in his line. It's just like the waterslides – more fun without flying. Chris half wonders if he should have some Blue Kryptonite on, but dashes those thoughts when he tries to imagine seeing the city through dulled senses.

He hears a gunshot and a woman calling for help, so he tells Dick and they head off in the direction of the gunshot and find a woman in an alley standing over a bleeding, unconscious man.

"Are you hurt?" asks Dick. "Can you call an ambulance? We can call for you if you need."

"Yes, please call for help," says the woman. "It's Nightwing, isn't it?"

"Well, that seems to be up for debate," says Dick, and he calls 911 for an ambulance.

"What happened?" asks Chris.

"The motherfucker pulled a gun on me," says the woman, "and I ain't no victim, you know. I used everything I learned from my Krav Maga classes to disarm him and slam his head into the curb."

"We were worried someone got shot," says Chris. "Good job defending yourself. Most people don't put the effort into learning how."

"Yeah well, this is Gotham. You gotta know that stuff. So who are you? You're like a better Nightwing. At least your costume is better."

"You really think so? I like it. Nightwing had it made for me, but we're still arguing over who gets to keep the name. We're both Nightwing."

"Small world, huh. Well you could be Sunwing in this costume. I don't know what you… wait a minute… are you Champion's bodyguard? That Nightwing?"

"Yeah, but don't tell anyone. Batman doesn't like metas in Gotham."

"Well if you're going for fooling the bat, something cheesy you wouldn't choose as your own name might work. At least if he knows you well enough."

"I'll keep it in mind," says Chris. "Sunwing isn't horrible. But I wouldn't want go by anything other than my name, so maybe Batman won't realize it's me. Thanks, uh…"

"Clarice. Clarice Henderson. Nice to meet you, Mister Zod."

"It's Lor-Zod," says Chris. "Mister Zod was my father."

"I thought it was 'General'," says the woman smartly.

"You pay attention to interplanetary politics?" asks Chris, suddenly finding the woman more interesting.

"You kidding? Our moon just got turned into an alien planet! Who wouldn't pay attention? Bunch of meatheads, I guess. I hope you like Earth, Mister Zod.

"I love it here."

Around that time the ambulances and a police car approach and Dick gets off the phone. He pulls on Chris' arm. "Time to skedaddle! Have a great night, Ma'am."

"Okay, you too, Nightwings!"

The duo go on to stop four muggings and a car theft before being stopped by the Dark Knight.

"Who's the copycat?" asks Batman.

"You know your own protége," says Chris.

"I meant you," growls the Bat. "Lor-Zod, I take it?"

"How'd you figure it out so quick?" asks Chris.

"I recognize your voice. What are you doing parading around in that?"

"I had it made for him," says Dick. "You don't like it?"

"Why did you put him in that?" asks Bruce. "Are you hazing him?"

"No! He just– well I couldn't take him around as a Bat if he's going all super and you hate metas, so I thought—"

"—I don't hate metas, I just prefer to be in charge of the vigilantes in my city and metas can be somewhat destructive. No offense, Lor-Zod but Kon-El, in his first six months, caused more collateral damage than all my Robins put together. Not counting the Red Hood's actions of course."

"Of course," says Chris, "Because it's always easy to contrast the two when you ignore their common ground. Tell me, how much collateral damage has Jon-El racked up? Or Kol-El? I'm pretty sure Kon-El's first six months were a difficult time, what with going through untreated PTSD and having no family, mentors or peers facing the same issues. I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that his destructiveness was a product of specific factors and not because he's a meta."

"But he was capable of accidentally causing so much destruction because of his super strength and invulnerability."

"I guess most six-month-olds can't bench press small buildings. Either way, I'm kind of insulted you think I'm going to wreak havoc just because I'm Kryptonian."

"It's a general rule, not an absolutism. Wonder Woman has similar abilities and I'm not saying she's destructive. I am saying I prefer to keep things my way in my city. I don't go to Smallville and break Ma Kent's rules and I don't go to New Krypton and break their rules either. If you wanted to patrol with Nightwing, Lor-Zod, all you had to do was tell me."

"Really?" says Dick.

"Really," says Batman.

"I want to patrol with Nightwing," says Chris.

"Good," says Batman. "Of course we'll have to make sure you're really you, you'll have to be vetted for brainwashing, mind-control and pods and you'll have to be washed for lice."

"B!! You're embarrassing me in front of my friend!" whines Dick.

Batman continues, "And of course, once that's done, we'll have to take samples so we have your real DNA and hair on file—"

"—We already have that on file!" says Dick.

"And before you can patrol in Gotham, you have to be trained in various safety methods and your signature modes of transport. I noticed your grappling was a little rocky. You'll have to have a permit while a licensed grappler teaches you."

"That has literally never been a thing!" says Dick.

"And if you're going to be galavanting around with my son at night in skin tight suits, there's a slideshow I think you both need to see."

"I've heard the horror stories," says Chris. "We aren't doing that. Even if we were, I'm not watching the goddamn slideshow, but Nightwing and I are just friends."

"All the same, you must complete all of the safety orientations," says Batman.

"B!! Why are you trolling us?" asks Dick. "Just let me have some fun patrolling with Lor tonight."

"Very well, why don't you two take Lor-Zod to get changed before you finish your patrol?" says Batman, "People say I'm terrifying, but they haven't seen the horrors of gaudy yellow fingerstripes. I can't unsee it."

"You're only saying that because you know I designed it, aren't you?" says Dick.

"Absolutely," says Batman, "Enjoy your night," and Batman disappears into the shadows of the alley.

"Well, I can't enjoy my night wearing this now," says Chris. "He totally ruined this awesome costume for me."

"Does that mean we're saying bye to Sunwing?" asks Dick.

"Bye-bye, Sunwing," says Chris.

________________________

Superboys – Part Two

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19334917/chapters/45993946

[star-my]

Vixen ~ Three (Final)

➼ Pairing: Jimin x OC (Shin Ara)

➼ Length: 6k

➼ Rating: pg-15

➼ Content: Arranged Marriage AU, CEO AU, Mafia AU | TW: Vague Threats of Violence; Kidnapping; Non-Graphic Violence (Fight Scene); Minor Discussion of Human Trafficking (not by BTS/SKZ members)| Ara and JK are so sibling-coded; Jimin ships Vixen and JK

➼ Thanks to @moonleeai for betaing! I had this posted at noon and closed tumblr but when I came back now somehow it disappeared into the cloud?? I'm so annoyed ;-;

➼ Taglist: @bangtan-famiglia-net@kookthief@otome-wandering@sarcasticbambi

➼ Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and in no way represents any member of BTS, SKZ, or any other K-pop group mentioned in any way beyond the face and name claims the author made for this work.

➼ Chapter 1 (13/10/23) ➼ Chapter 2 (14/10/23) ➼ Ao3 ➼ Masterlist

ARA, AGE 25, (PRESENT DAY)

A hand flopped around on the wooden table, finally locating the device making that infernal racket far too early in the morning.

“It’s too early for this,” Ara groaned, sliding the call button on her phone. “Yeoboseyo?”

“Princess? It’s Jimin. Sorry if I woke you…” Ara heard a sharp inhale as her husband realised the time. Still, he pressed on. “Um…you know how Park Wonshik adopted me after I was kidnapped?”

“Ye-ah,” she replied slowly, trying to figure out what was going on. Why was he sounding so awake after helping her break up the trafficking ring early this morning? He probably hadn’t slept yet, she realized. Hence, his too-early call.

“So, the police broke up this ring last night and saved a bunch of kids. They called me and asked if I’d mind talking to them, tell them that things are gonna be okay, y’know?”

Ara made some sort of agreeing noise, heading to the bathroom to gargle some mouthwash and maybe comb her hair and hope that putting her hair in order would simultaneously put her brain cells in order.

“So…one of my dad’s old friends was there and suggested maybe…we could foster one or two of the kids who are in need of a home until they get all the paperwork sorted out. A couple of the kids agreed to testify, so they’ll also need to stay close until the trials are over. What do you think? We have really good security, so they won’t need to worry about a repeat kidnapping, and I know we’ve got space and love. You mentioned wanting to help trafficking victims when I was telling you about my childhood…but…”

The longer her silence stretched out, the more Jimin rambled. He was so cute.

“Yeah, that sounds like a great, practical way to help,” Ara agreed after spitting her mouthwash out. “Just let me know how many you kids you drag back so I know how many rooms to get ready.”

“Thank you, jagiya.” Muffled conversation crackled through the line as Jimin paused to speak with an officer. “Sorry, I have to go. I’ll call later, alright?”

“Okay. Love you!”

“Love you!”

Ara put her phone down on the counter and stared at her reflection in the mirror. 

~~~

At 2:33 PM, Jimin arrived home with an eleven-year-old girl in tow. The police officer and Child & Family Services officer quickly checked the premises and living situation, then left, leaving Jimin, Ara, and the girl.

Ara smiled, crouching down to her height. “Hi, I’m Shin Ara. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hello, Mrs. Shin. My name is Kim Nabi,” Nabi bowed politely. “It is nice to meet you as well. Thank you for letting me live with you.”

Her shiny hair teased the tops of her shoulders as she moved. 

“I’ll show you to your room, then,” said Ara, motioning at the stairs. “I know you saw it already during the tour, but you can get settled now. My room is right across the hall, so my bodyguard will be close by if you feel unsafe. Have you met Jungkook yet?”

Nabi shook her head, then gave a small smile full of delight as she really took in her room.

Ara and Jimin’s gazes met as they exchanged smiles at her satisfaction.

The walls were a pale periwinkle reflected in the pale blue duvet, the trim white to contrast the wood furniture.

“I hope you like it,” joked Ara. “There are a couple of outfits in the closet, but I thought maybe you’d like to go shopping for some things your own style while you’re here. Jungkook and I will take you whenever you’re ready.”

Ara pulled the stuffed rabbit from the top shelf of the closet and held it out to Nabi. “I thought you might like a friend to talk to while you decide if you want to talk to me or someone else about what happened. I’ve told quite a few secrets to Cookie here, and he’s kept them all remarkably well. He also gives a pretty nice hug,” she smiled conspiratorially.

“Thank you very much, Mrs Shin, Mr Park,” Nabi bowed again.

“You’re welcome, Nabi. I know things have been tough, but you’re a very brave girl,” said Jimin. “We want you to feel safe and at home here. I remember how I felt after I was brought here by my adoptive father. If you want to scream, cry, maybe hit a couple of things, go for a run– whatever you’re feeling, we’re here for you.”

“Thank you,” Nabi said again.

Jimin kissed Ara’s cheek goodbye and left to finish his assistance at the police station.

Ara looked at Nabi, laid a soft hand on her shoulder, and said, “I think you’d like to be alone right now to settle in, but if you want company, my room is across the hall, and the door’s open. If you need anything, just walk in or give me a shout, ‘kay?”

Nabi nodded, and Ara crossed the hall to call Jungkook and explain the situation.

~~~

Ara softly knocked on Nabi’s door for the third time. When there was still no response, she twisted the knob and peered in.

Nabi was sound asleep in her bed, hugging Cookie tightly to her chest.

“Nabi, it’s ten to seven. Jimin-ssi will be home any minute, and supper will be ready. I’m sure you’re pretty hungry by now. Jungkook wants to meet you, too, so can you wake up and get up by seven?” As Ara talked soothingly, Nabi stirred and gradually opened her eyes. Ara opened the door a little wider to let the hallway light shine in, as Nabi had drawn her blackout drapes.

“Hello, Ara-unnie. I’m up now.” Nabi yawned and stretched, then slid off the bed.

“Did you have a good nap? I hope you’ll sleep tonight!” Ara stepped just outside the doorway so she wouldn’t stifle Nabi, who yawned again.

“Yes, I slept well, thank you.”

The two headed to the top of the stairs, where Jungkook awaited. 

“Nabi, this is my bodyguard and best friend, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook, this young lady is Kim Nabi.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Nabi,” Jungkook’s bunny smile shone through as he grinned at the girl.

“Thank you. It’s nice to meet you as well, Jungkook-oppa.”

Jungkook grinned even wider at Ara. “I’m her oppa already!”

Ara punched his shoulder gently. “Don’t let it go to your head; I told her she could call us that.”

The foyer door opened, signalling Jimin’s return home. He headed to the powder room to wash up, then joined the little group in the living room, brushing a kiss to Ara’s cheek on his way in.

Jungkook pretended to gag, wincing as Ara pinched his arm.

Nabi was quiet during dinner, her gaze bouncing between the three adults talking and laughing around her but not volunteering much. They drew her in when they could, but weren’t surprised that she didn’t immediately become a chatterbox. She’d been through a lot and was probably still deciding how much she could trust them. 

Ara did manage to get her to commit to going clothes shopping the next day, but that was it.

A large yawn cracked Nabi’s face as Jimin asked Jungkook to see him in his office after supper, so Ara said goodnight to the men and followed Nabi upstairs, just in case she forgot where something was or needed help.

Two nights later, Jimin was back at Vixen’s HQ, meeting with the woman herself. He’d showed up unexpectedly, interrupting her spar with Hyunjin, so she wasn’t in full Vixen gear like all the previous times he’d met her.

She’d donned the mask, but her hair was free, a neat brown-black braid falling down her back, a few wisps curled to her sweaty face and neck. 

“If you tell anyone you’ve seen more of me than my lieutenants, I’m sorry, but I’ll have to break our agreement,” she waved a finger at him.

“I won’t,” promised Jimin. More of her meant arms and feet, since she was only in a black tank top and workout leggings, her jacket having been tossed aside as she heated up.

Jimin noted interestedly that the gold eyes and red mouth was an indispensable part of Vixen’s persona, as they were still visible.

(As two of her most notable character marks, Ara made sure the lipstick and contacts were first in and last out when she switched between Ara and Vixen. He’d just proved her point—though he didn’t know it—that you should always be prepared for the unexpected; you never know when someone would drop in, either ally or foe.)

“So, you took care of the three men?” she asked.

Jimin nodded. “JK and I made sure they won’t be trafficking in the future…or committing any other crimes.”

She nodded approvingly. “Good.”

The tones of Vixen’s cell phone rang and she bent over, fishing the phone out of her pocket. Answering it, she turned around but didn’t move away; Jimin eavesdropped as best he could. “Vixen.”

There was a pause as her contact spoke.

“What? Stall him! Flag him down and tell him I have a visitor! Engage blade if necessary.” With an aggravated sigh, Vixen ended the call and pinched her nose, muttering something about stupid training, then turned with a smile that was clearly false.

“I’m going to need a minute, would you mind waiting in another room?”

Jimin complied, following her to a small room that reminded him of a cabin. She pointed to the twin bed and shut the door behind her. Jimin didn’t feel like a captive since there was a window large enough for him to crawl through, and there didn’t appear to be any bars or lasers to stop him from doing so if he wished. But he didn’t wish to; he was here for a reason, afterall.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway as someone came jogging up to Vixen. The tread was heavy, likely male, and the visitor greeted her in a male’s voice.

“Hey Vix, I found out where he keeps the goods- why are you frown- ouch! VIX-mmph!”

That male voice sounded awfully familiar. Jimin frowned.

“Shh! I’m gagging you because he’s. next. door!” hissed Vixen harshly. “If you’d checked outside before you snuck in, you'd have seen his car!”

Jimin strained his ears as the whispers softened and moved down the hallway. However, he’d managed to drop a bug on Vixen’s back as he followed her, so he pulled out his receiver and shamelessly eavesdropped.

“I came over the roofs tonight so I didn’t see. I’m sorry, VIx, that was careless; I should’ve known better. I’ll check 360 degrees next time, yakseokhae.”

That was definitely JK.

“Good. Yeesh, oppa, you almost gave everything away! I had Han ready to rush you with his knife to slow you down!”

Oppa?! Why was Vixen so close to JK?

“Sorry, Vixen. But I found out where he keeps the goods, and I’m getting mine tomorrow, so I need to make sure the others won’t be visible when it’s done.”

…the blacklight tattoos each member got when they were inducted into Bangtan? He’d thought JK was a reliable asset to Bangtan, so he’d invited him to get it. JK was obviously Vixen’s spy in Bangtan, but why?…most of JK’s time was spent on his bodyguarding duties with Ara.

Unless…Vixen was going to take out Ara to hit Bangtan and Grey? But both of them were allied with her, that didn’t make sense. And he knew JK would never hurt or let anyone or anything hurt Ara.

Clearly, more investigation was required.

“When are you going to tell him, anyways, Vix? Hasn’t it been long enough for you to trust him?”

Vixen sighed. “It’s a big secret–half my life. It takes time to open up.”

“I understand. I’ll be there when you’re ready. I’ll leave now…”

Jimin heard JK discover the bug when he hugged Vixen goodbye. 

There was a pause, crackling as the bug was moved, then a dramatic inhale.

“Vix, what’s this?”

“That’s not one of ours…that’s Jimin’s. I thought I felt his fingers on my back, but I didn’t have time to check.” Vixen cursed, and then all that Jimin heard was static as JK crushed the bug under his boot.

The door swung open, JK standing protectively beside Vixen, who crossed her arms and stared at Jimin.

“Fine. You discovered it. Jungkook is my spy in Bangtan. He helped me start Stray Kids, and he’s an honorary member, since he’s technically affiliated with Gray. I’m not plotting anything against you. Happy?” “Why do you care about Bangtan’s tattoos?” Jimin stared back at her.

“Because Stray Kids have blacklight tattoos too, and I didn’t want to out JK’s and my relationship because you picked a spot close to his previous tattoo to add yours. It’s moot now, I guess.”

“Relationship?” He glanced between the two.

“We’re just friends,” they said in unison, then looked at each other. “What he/she said.”

Jimin sighed. Sure. Just friends. Whatever you say.

“Okay, prove it. Do you have a blacklight around?”

Hyunjin entered with the light and JK unbuttoned his shirt, slipping it off one shoulder. The Stray Kids symbol glowed blue at the joining of his neck and shoulder. Along his left arm were eight small bands of moon phases, as well.

Vixen held the blacklight to her shoulder, and the vivid blue symbol appeared on the front of her left shoulder, slightly larger and thicker than JK’s. “Happy?”

“Alright, I believe you.” Jimin took the light from her and waved it over his left collarbone, showing Bangtan’s symbol in glowing purple-blue. “You can choose where you put it, but somewhere that allows for easy access is a good choice for easy ID,” he told JK before turning to Vixen. “Bangtan’s tattoos are secret for a reason.”

She nodded companionably. “Same with Stray Kids, hence, blacklight. JK and I won’t say anything.”

JK nodded as Jimin looked at him. “ I won’t say a word, boss.”

“You’re affiliated with three families, JK. Which one are you most loyal to?”

JK swallowed, his big eyes a bit rounder than normal at Jimin’s subtly threatening tone. 

“Yeah, JK, tell me who you’re loyal to,” Vixen buffed her nails against her shirt as she leaned against the doorway, the very picture of nonchalance.

“...I am equally loyal to them. My primary loyalty is to your wife.”

After several tense seconds, Jimin smiled approvingly and patted his shoulder. “Good.”

Vixen nodded at him for his diplomatic answer, then left to continue her spar with Hyunjin.

Jimin and Jungkook rejoined, watching the spar just as VIxen put Hyunjin in an armlock. He tapped out and Jungkook danced into the ring. “Still mad at me for my slip up, Vix?”

“No, we’re good. Foxtrot spar?” She added one of her many code words with him, requesting the use of martial arts plus blades.

Jungkook nodded, and the spar began.

Jimin leaned forward, closely following the pair’s movements. Their sheer grace and long practice of martial arts gave them the facade of a deadly dance, clearly used to practicing together.

Silver flashes gleamed as their knives slashed and parried, tucked away the next second for strikes and kicks.

Finally, JK saw an opening as Vixen slowed from fatigue, her previous spar with Hyunjin lowering her endurance. Caught in a chokehold, Vixen tapped out.

Bowing, the pair ended the spar. Jimin clapped, impressed. “You both fight very well.”

“Thank you,” they said in unison, leaning down to grab a water bottle, opening it, and chugging at the same time.

Jimin rolled his eyes. Totally “just friends”.

Two weeks later, two days before the beginning of the trials, Ara took Nabi to the mall to take her mind off the upcoming event. Nabi now had a varied wardrobe, but Ara was looking for formal dresses for them for a future party..

Nabi had settled in surprisingly quickly, becoming more talkative and outgoing as the days passed, though she was still a quiet child.

She had only been on the street a week since her mom died when she was kidnapped. No one knew who or where her dad was.

Ara had contacted a counsellor for Nabi to see when she was ready to talk about it, and she and Jimin had agreed they’d love to foster with intent to adopt. When Nabi was ready, they’d talk about it. So far, she seemed to love the house, and she often followed Jungkook around like a duckling when he wasn’t with Ara.

Jungkook casually browsed through the men’s section of the formalwear store while he kept an eye on other customers. Ara took Nabi to the womens’ changerooms to try on a couple dresses each. Stepping into the room beside Nabi’s, she froze at the reflection of the man in the mirror with the gun painted at her.

“Follow me quietly and you and the kid won’t get hurt,” he growled.

Tentatively, Ara turned around, hoping Nabi would stay in her changeroom.

Alas, that was not to be, as Nabi stepped out. “Unnie, my zipp-” she stared at the man and Ara calmly, though her eyes were wide with shock. Slowly, she crept behind Ara, keeping an eye on the man.

“Come quietly and you’ll both be fine,” threatened the man. They headed out the back way to the van idling by the door. 

Getting in, Ara felt the dull throb of a needle prick as everything faded to black.

~~~

Jungkook headed to the fitting rooms anxiously. Twelve minutes had passed with no sign of either Nabi or Ara. Normally, Ara asked for his opinion on formal fits; while he supposed she may have decided to ask Jimin’s opinion instead, he was still a little worried.

As soon as he saw the silver and jade hairpin Ara had worn that day on the ground, the needle pointing to the back exit, he knew something was up. Pulling out his phone, he began making calls.

~~~

Slowly blinking her heavy lids, Ara tried to focus her thoughts and make sense of everything. As she gradually became more clear-headed, her memories returned.

Pretending to still be unconscious, she strained her senses to check her surroundings.

So far, she could tell that she was likely in a warehouse (how original) in the industrial area by the Han River, with the smell of water and the faint industrial noises surrounding her.

Nabi was in the chair behind her, back-to-back, either still out or merely pretending, like herself.

Ara couldn’t sense any hostile presence around–evidently, they were still supposed to be under the drug’s influence for a while longer.

Carefully, she pressed her watch button in and twisted it, sending an emergency GPS ping to both Chan and Jin.

Clearly, the kidnappers didn’t expect much of a chaebol heiress; since she was untouched, her eight knives, two GPSs, and five impromptu weapons were still on her. Well, at least they were respectful. This meant she was likely not going to be harmed, at least at first, and they didn’t know she was Vixen. 

She could work with that.

“Nabi-ah, are you awake?” If she was, Ara would have to wait for her prince(s) in shining armour (unless the kidnappers tried something before then), but if Nabi was still out, Ara could fight her way out and then claim a rescue…

She felt Nabi’s hands brush hers, then– “I know you’re Vixen. Can you get us out of here before oppa comes?”

 How- how did this child– Jimin still didn’t know!

“I’ll try.” She wiggled a knife free and passed it through their bonds to Nabi. “Go for blood if you’re in trouble. Now is not the time for guilt or gentleness. Use your teeth and elbows if you have to. Aim for fleshy parts like eyes, groin, or disabling their arms and hands.”

“Got it,” Nabi whispered back. “You’re so cool, unnie.”

Ara smiled inwardly, then began tugging the knot of the rope around her hands loose.

Once she had undone the ropes, she slyly slid one of her knives from her thigh free, using it to cut Nabi loose. “Sit tight unless you’re attacked, okay? On three, I’m going to get our captors’ attention. I already sent a distress signal, so Jimin and Jungkook will be here soon,” she added to reassure her foster daughter.

On three, she ripped the blindfold off and stood up, sliding the knives tucked into her heels out and kicking them off, choosing to fight barefoot.

A quick slash up the side seam of her skirt, and she was ready to fight.

The kidnappers had noticed that she was awake, and five men dressed in black ran into the room. 

Good, no guns, yet. The illegal weapons left traces very difficult to clean up and explain away.

Silently she charged the row of three, using the first’s momentum to tumble the second and third like dominoes.

While they were still reeling, Ara began slicing at the fourth and fifth, incapacitating them by aiming for their thighs and shoulders.

One, Two, and Three regained their balance, and Ara hurled one of her blades into Two’s shoulder as she danced around Three, hitting pressure points to take him out.

On her way to One, she yanked the knife out of Two’s shoulder, jabbing it at his waist and thigh.

One appeared to be better trained than the others as he aimed for a pressure point on Ara’s neck. Unluckily for him, she grabbed his wrist, forced him to his knees, and kicked him in the groin.

Spinning back to Two, she hit his neck to temporarily paralyse him, watching him slump before repeating the motion on One.

Sighing, she brushed her hair out of her face, wishing she hadn’t dropped her hairpin at the store as a clue for Jungkook. He’d have found her soon enough through the CCTVs, and she could see better without her hair flying around if she’d kept it.

A second batch of five emerged from the hallway she assumed led to the boss’s control room, but this time the group was armed and better prepared.

Ara supposed the first group were the disposable, bottom-tier underlings who underestimated her.

Dropping into a crouch, she grinned ferally. Worked every time.

Two and Three charged her at the same time, so she simply crouched there, then uncoiled at the last second. Using Two’s knee as a springboard, she wrapped her legs around Three’s neck, sending Two sprawling and choking Three out.

On her way to meet One, Four, and Five, she gifted Two a knife to the thigh, dangerously close to the femoral artery. Oops.

Just before she hit One and Four, she dropped to her knees and slid by, taking their legs out. Rather badass a move of her, if she thought so herself.

Five grabbed her by the hair–rude, but smart— thankfully, it was long enough she could twist to face him and swipe at his knees, then grab his wrist and twist him around.

He released her hair, and she swiftly knocked him out, then headed back to the still-conscious Two, Four, and One.

A quick insurance stab to their dominant arms, and all ten opponents were incapacitated, if not unconscious.

Ara spun to the door, dropping into a defensive stance and re-gripping her blades tightly, only to relax in relief when IN and Felix showed up. 

“Oh, good, you’re the first ones here. Nabi knows– I’ll figure out how later– but as of right now, Jimin doesn’t know, so you two took out those assailants, okay? I watched you rescue me when I woke up halfway through the fight,” Ara quickly aligned their cover stories.

Clearly, she should tell Jimin about her…nightly business ventures, but now would not be the time.

“Yes, ma’am,” Vixen’s bodyguards saluted, then began dragging the kidnappers into a row and tying them up.

Ara reclaimed her knife from Nabi and sat back in her chair, holding hands with the girl.

“Jimin-ssi should be here very soon and we can go home, okay? You were so brave; I’m proud of you. It’s okay now, so I understand if you’re a little scared or overwhelmed. Do you want to talk about it?”

Nabi shook her head. “I wasn’t scared; I knew you’d keep us safe, and Jimin-oppa and Jungkook-oppa would come for us.”

‘’How did you know I’m Vixen, Nabi-ah? And I gather you figured Jimin and Jungkook out too.”

Nabi grinned, turning in her chair to face Ara. “Jimin-oppa doesn’t wear a mask. I recognized him from the night when you all rescued us. That pink hair is kind of distinctive. I thought Jungkook-oppa worked for Vixen, but then I saw him with Jimin at the police station. I didn’t know till you woke me up for supper the first night; the way you talked to me and approached me was just like Vixen. And then I saw you with Jungkook-oppa and you were close to him like Vixen was.”

“Is that why you were watching us all so closely?” Ara had a revelation. “I just thought you didn’t trust us yet.”

Nabi nodded proudly. “I was trying to figure out who knew what about who.”

Ara smiled at Nabi and smoothed her hair down. “You are a very clever girl– you’re the first person to figure out that Shin Ara and Vixen are the same person. Everyone else who knows, I told. Have you figured out what everybody knows by now?”

“I think so…you and Jungkook-oppa know each other and Jimin-ssi, and he knows Jungkook-oppa but not you?”

Ara nodded, “Good job, Nabi-ah. Jimin’s family and mine are allies, and Jungkook works for both of them, Gray and Bangtan. He also works for my –Vixen’s– family, Stray Kids. Jimin-ssi and my appa both do not know about me being Vixen, but I think I should tell them now, don’t you?”

Nabi nodded. “Secrets should be kept few and far between.”

“Wise wor-”

Their talk was interrupted by a group of armed men bursting in, guns in hand.

Ara and Nabi blinked back at Jimin’s wide gaze. “You’re safe!”

He holstered his gun and anxiously looked them over. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, pulling Ara into a hug, then Nabi. “What happened?”

“We’re fine, Jimin. Nabi is probably a bit more anxious than she lets on, but we’re fine,” Ara ran her hand down his chest soothingly, feeling the rapid thumping of his heartbeat.

Jimin pulled back to examine Ara's face. “Why is there blood on you?”

“Oh, it's not mine, it’s…theirs…” Ara waved at the neat row of captives guarded by Felix and IN. “They took those guys out and rescued Nabi and me. Jungkook called them, saying we were in trouble.”

Ara had to have some last fun as Vixen, before she unmasked. Unable to resist, she asked in a loud whisper, “Why are there so many of you and why did you have a gun?!”

Jungkook coughed loudly to cover his laughter at Ara’s acting. Felix and IN exchanged grins, turning their backs to ‘guard the prisoners’.

The rest of Jimin’s squad of six looked awkwardly around, invested in the drama and wondering how their boss was going to get out of this jam.

Panic flashed through Jimin’s eyes. “Uh…why don’t we get you home and have a doctor look at you, jagiya. You must have been so scared, Nabi-ah. Let’s go home, hm? I think Mrs Lee was stress-baking up a storm.”

Jungkook slipped out to start the car and told Jimin quietly, but loud enough for Ara to get the message, “I called Dr. Hyunjin– he’ll understand. I have Lady’s men ready to help; I called her guys after you and Jin-hyung.”

“Thanks, JK.” Jimin escorted his girls to the car, leaving Jungkook to drive home while he fussed over them in the backseat.

Ara waited till Nabi showered and Hyunjin okayed her to do anything, much to her husband’s chagrin.

Nabi went straight to bed, and Hyunjin told Ara and Jimin that she was healthy, with no side effects from the drug used to knock them out, and was only stressed, though less so than he’d expected.

Ara was touched by Nabi’s faith in her and her guys. 

Hyunjin said good night and all the attention was on Ara. She willingly took a shower, conceding to that after adamantly refusing Hyunjin’s checkup.

Finally, so Jimin would stop worrying, she agreed to give him five minutes to reassure himself that she was indeed feeling 100%.

Ara perched on the counter in her ensuite, her towel wrapped around her neatly and another on her head to keep her hair from dripping in her face.

Cupping Jimin’s face in her hands, she looked him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry for worrying you, yeobo.”

“It’s not your fault, jagi,” Jimin protested immediately.

“Not the kidnapping, no, but the worrying, yes. There’s something I need to tell you. Please don’t freak out, okay?”

Jimin nodded warily, his eyes full of questions.

Ara grimaced, then said. “I know you’re Park Jimin, Head of the Bangtan mafia.”

His face jerked out of her hands. “What? No, I’m not– where did you–”

“Sh, I know, Jimin.” She cupped his face again. “I know Appa is Shin Jungok, head of the Gray mafia. I know my oppas work for you and him as mafiosos. I know your friends aren’t just your friends, they’re also mafia. I know my friend Minho is mafia. The reason I know all this is because…I’m mafia. I’m Lady Vixen.”

Jimin pulled his face away again to stare at her, his jaw slack and his eyes wide.

“I know I was never supposed to know who you all are, but I have since I was twelve. I started planning Vixen then; Kookie helped me. When I was seventeen and Kook was my full-time bodyguard and we could sneak around, I became Vixen.”

“I…don’t believe you.”

Ara hopped off the counter and exited the bathroom, heading for her closet. She changed into jeans and a blouse, then slid her shoes on. “Follow me if you dare.”

Jimin took her hand, confused and curious, as Ara led him to Jungkook’s bike in the garage.

They hopped on, Ara revved, and they sped off, Ara making evasive manoeuvres and pulling over randomly to ensure no one would follow them.

Ara casually strolled up to Vixen’s HQ, D9, and entered her fingerprint, eight-digit code, and eye scan after a moment’s pause.

She headed straight to the back, to Vixen’s room, waving briskly at the sparring members of her mafia gathered in the main room, and pressed on a panel in the wall.

The panel popped out and Ara reached in, removed a small package, and slipped her contacts and fangs in. A small tube of lipstick sat on a shelf, and Ara carefully applied a coat. The mask went on, the jacket was zipped up, and her boots laced up.

Dumbfounded, Jimin watched as his wife did a slow twirl in front of him, a smug smirk on her face. The entire transformation took five minutes.

“You’re really Vixen.”

“Yup.”

Hyunjin popped in with the blacklight again and Ara confirmed her SKZ tattoo on her shoulder. “Thanks, Jinnie. Can you ask the others to come see me in a minute, please?”

In the minute they were left alone, Ara sat behind her desk and kicked out a chair for Jimin to sink into. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know sooner–for worrying you without reason. I was actually the one who knocked out the guys; Innie and Lix got there after. That’s why I was bloody.”

Hyunjin reentered with IN and Felix, handing Jimin a bundle.

He unwrapped it to discover six knives and two stilettos, which caused him to turn to Ara in confusion.

She smirked. “I never go out unarmed. I also have a GPS in each watch and a few of my larger jewellery pieces. I could also have utilized the belt on my skirt and my necklace as weapons, if I so wish. Unfortunately, I had to leave my hairpin behind, but I often wear my hair up in pins because they double as an excellent weapon in a pinch…especially if they’re modified. All this is to say, I’m sorry for worrying you earlier, and I can take care of myself, so please don’t worry if something like this happens again.”

Jimin stared at her, taking in this whole other side of his wife he’d overlooked before. “Wow, you really are a vixen.”

She tossed him a wink, a proper one, as Seungmin, Minho, Chan, Changbin, and Jisung entered. 

“Sup, Vix? Oh…”

“Yep, I told him. Thought he might like to know some of my most trusted men, so he can reassure himself about everything.”

Once her men gave a succinct explanation of their path to Stray Kids and left, the couple were left alone, silence blanketing Vixen’s office.

Jimin leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. “You’re really something, jagiya.”

The faint sound of people sparring elsewhere in the building filtered through the air while he collected his thoughts.

“I want to be angry that you hid all this from me, but I can’t really without being a hypocrite. Thank you for telling me now.”

Ara sighed in relief. “Thank you for accepting this part of me. Shall we agree to keep no more secrets?”

The two shook hands solemnly. “No more secrets.”

“Oh, by the way…Nabi figured you out the first night she stayed with us because you don’t wear a mask, and also because of your pink hair. She found me out because Vixen and Ara approached her the same way.”

Jimin sputtered and Ara giggled.

“We have a future menace to society and the underworld on our hands.”

Park Jimin and Shin Ara exited the courthouse, their bodyguards shielding them and their new daughter from the paparazzi.

Once the trial was over and the traffickers harshly sentenced, Nabi relaxed more and was able to enjoy life.

She’d readily agreed to Jimin and Ara’s proposal and was delighted to become a Park.

Secretly, she was dying to know which Family she’d join when she grew up, but wisely didn’t say anything about it.

Now, the papers were signed, sealed, and filed, and Kim Nabi was officially Park Nabi.

In honour of the occasion, Bangtan and Stray Kids had collaborated again to open Black Swan, a restaurant that would be Nabi’s future, if she so desired.

Bangtan and Gray had also collaborated to open Blue and Grey, the last bar in the Blue string owned by Jungok.

He’d been thoroughly shocked to find out his little girl had known for a long time about his secondary business, and how she had twisted his most trusted men around her little pinky (Jin and Namjoon had been glared at for weeks after Ara spilled the beans), but he was proud of her ambition and success, even though he wished she had stayed on the legal side of things.

~~~

Jimin crawled into bed beside Ara and flipped off the light, turning to pull her to him.

“How is everything going? You’ve been pretty busy lately,” she murmured, cuddling into his body heat.

“It’s calming down now, thankfully. The worst part is seeing you less.”

“Flatterer,” she said, but Jimin heard the smile in her voice. “I miss you too, when you’re busy like this.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, enjoying her angelic appearance as the moonlight fell across her face. They lay there, cuddling in silence for a while, until a thought struck Jimin. He’d been getting used to talking to Ara about his mafia issues, knowing that she’d understand him better now.

“Yoongi is looking for a wife.”

“Oh?” Sheets rustled as Ara pulled away a bit, turning to look at him.

“Yeah, for some reason he wants a wife who’s not in a gang. You know anyone?”

Ara made a noise of surprise. “Really? Hm…I might! You know how I’m allying with that gang, Seventeen, temporarily? I might find a way. I’ll look into it.”

TO BE CONTINUED…in Godmother: Tigress

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading my story! I hope you have a beautiful life<3

Some fun notes about the universe, if you're interested:

-> 22924514 = Vixen in Alpha-numeric code. It's Vixen's code for D9. D9 is a STAY easter egg.

-> Jimin and Jungkook were both part of the same trafficking/rescue situation. They weren’t together, though, and their memories are fuzzy and black out from that time. Eventually, they realise they have a connection and bond over it.

[missmoodring]

Act 1 Chapter 2 Part 1.2

(Dialog in orange will represent characters speaking Selvadoradian instead of Simlish)

“And last night she woke up three times in her sleep so I woke up three times too! One time she asked me to get her the ice cream and she literally fell back asleep with the spoon hanging out her mouth.” Maverick couldn’t tell if Mateo was complaining or not. Admittedly, it was strange to see his once playboy brother married and an expecting father to twins!

Maverick imagined what their youngest brother, Malachi, would say if he was here instead of away at Britechester. Probably “That’s the life you signed up for,” or “I can’t believe they’re letting you become someone’s dad.”

Mauricio chuckled, revealing in the similarities of what he went through three different times with Eliana. “Do you know what you're having yet?” he questioned his eldest son.

“We do but she wants to keep it a secret and do a gender reveal.” Mateo shrugged. Mauricio did too and then turned to his second son.

“Anything new with you? You buy that ring yet?” Mauricio questioned. Maverick shook his head. Mauricio released a soft sigh. He was hoping that both his eldest sons would have settled down by now. Maverick and Bianca worked well together and Mauricio really liked Bianca. He always had.

He remembered when he first saw her in cadet training. Not only was she a phenomenal critical thinker, she was eager to learn and took no shit, so she advanced pretty quickly at the Oasis Springs Police Department. There was even a point in time where he thought that Bianca would surpass his own son, Mateo, and become the department chief just like he did before he retired.

Disappointed couldn’t even describe what Mauricio felt when he learned that Bianca had up and quit one random Tuesday afternoon. He even took it upon himself to pick up the phone and call her to see what was going on. He remembered her words perfectly, “I don’t think this is meant for me.” What a waste of talent.

“Dinner's ready!” He could hear his wife call out to the boys. The family gathered around the table and did their prayers. Bianca wasn’t quite sure what Mrs. Olivares had whipped up in the kitchen but she made sure to basked in all the aromas before digging in.

“First meal of the year together ,” Eliana prefaced. Mauricio knew it was time.

“I have a case for us. High profile, international, multi victim, good payout. I think-“

“How long is this case going to take?” Christine interrupted.

“I dunno. Maybe a few months. Maybe a year. Maybe two. I can't answer that."

“Well, count Téo out. I can’t even tie my own shoes, how will I be able to take care of two babies by myself? I need my husband home with me more than ever.” Christine said. Mauricio couldn’t help but to agree. He understood that it was time for his son to step up and be the father and husband he promised to be.

“Well, son,” Mauricio turned towards Maverick, “that leaves you and me.” Maverick nodded his head yes. This wasn’t an usual request. He usually helped his father in his ‘side gig’.

“And Bianca.”

Maverick furrowed his brows. Bianca? Bianca knew of the family business but never had she partook in their business dealings.

“Me?” She questioned.

“Yeah, now with Téo out, there’s an open spot on my team. You were always a great investigator and there’s going to be plenty of money going around. This seems like the perfect time to get you involved in the family business.” Mauricio reasoned.

Bianca was still jobless since she abruptly quit the force. Money was tight. Just to get by, she had taken on odd jobs and small loans from her mother. It would be nice to have a little change in her pocket. And this wasn’t real police work. From her understanding, she didn’t have to carry a weapon or chase anyone down. She wouldn’t mind just doing a bit of investigative work.

From the corner of his eye Maverick could see his girlfriend considering the offer. “I don’t think this is a great idea.” He finally said.

“Why not?” Mauricio challenged. The sound of crickets filled the air as the unspoken truth suffocated the family.

Even if Bianca had been shacking up with Maverick for years, was loved by his entire family, invited to each summer vacation, was nearly fluent in Selvadoradian, in the holiday photos, and was on the family cell phone plan, she was just girlfriend. Maybe one day in the future they would be married and popping out babies like Christine and Mateo, but today was not that day. Bianca was not an Olivares.

Even if Bianca had been shacking up with Maverick for years, was loved by his entire family, invited to each summer vacation, was nearly fluent in Selvadoradian, in the holiday photos, and was on the family cell phone plan, she was just girlfriend. Maybe one day in the future they would be married and popping out babies like Christine and Mateo, but today was not that day. Bianca was not an Olivares.

“I’ll do it.” Bianca smiled.

“Good girl.” Mauricio said. Bianca could hear the smile in his voice.

Olivares or not, Bianca was on the case.

Beginning \ Previous\ Next \ Directory

[extremelyblackandwhite]

"fuck it, a new year is about to start, and I can’t go another year hiding this from you — i love you.” with Bucky Barnes 💗

pairing: bucky barnes x maximoff!reader

a/n: thank you so much for your request! if anyone else wants to participate, here’s the instructions

12 days of christmas - day 2

Bucky’s civilian life was more of a hermit one than excitement filled one. It was both one of constant surveillance by his therapist and staying inside his home; it was particularly bad during the holidays and after a walk, he had been arrested by the police, blaming him for missing a court mandated therapy session. In his defense, the last thing he wanted was to have to deal with passive aggressive remarks for two hours; yet, looking back on it, the last he wanted to do was to spend the holidays in a cell.

      - Barnes, you’re up. - the guard opened the cell for him. Great, now he probably would have to handle Sam. Perhaps, spending Christmas in jail was not that bad. 

He dragged his feet down the aisle, awaiting to see Sam’s face, but instead all he saw was a maroon dress followed by a familiar face. He continued with a scowl on his face, surely Sam had gotten her to come by instead and probably was waiting in the car for him to give him yet another one of his cheat life lessons. The guard smiled at Y/N before pretty much shoving him her way, yet maintaining the same smile. The Maximoffs surely knew how to charm someone, and Y/N Maximoff was no exception.

       - Where’s Sam?  

       - With Sarah and the boys. It is the Holidays, Bucky. - she smiled, as she always did. No matter how many passive aggressive remarks he had, she just always continued to smile. 

Tony Stark had once called her a professional empath, the balance of the Maximoff triplets who seemingly just enjoyed ensuring everyone was happy. Bucky found it strange; he knew she’d been a HYDRA experiment like him and her siblings yet she refused to let anyone know what she could do and was yet to be affected by the cynicism both Wanda and him had fallen victim to. 

       - So you paid my bail?

       - You promised you’d help me get a Christmas tree. I can’t do it by myself. 

       - What about your sister?

       - Wanda’s with Vision looking for a new place. Besides, she’s not as fun as you.

       - I doubt a 100 year old man without an arm is funner than the witch who can do whatever she wants with magic. 

        - I think you are much fun. 

Outside the weather was incredibly cold, cold enough to freeze someone and Bucky wondered why couples would want to walk outside when it was this cold. Yet looking to his right, and seeing her smile as she walked down the street towards the pile of Christmas trees, maybe, maybe he understood why. He tried not to dwell on it. She was just nice, she was nice with everyone and after moving to the same building as him, she’d become nicer. However, she was nice to every single neighbour of theirs. 

      - What about this one? - she pointed to a particularly short one, a bit rounded but much shorter than every other one. - I think it’s cute.

      - I think it’s shorter than you. 

      - Bucky, c’mon. It’s cute, I want this one. 

      - You sure? - he looked at the tree again, turning to look at the salesman who just shrugged. - Don’t you want a big tree?

      - I like this one. - she crossed her arms, making Bucky chuckle. - Could I have this one?

He really did try to dislike her in the beginning. She agreed with Sam most of the times, Steve adored her and even Tony, who disliked most people Steve liked, was fond of her. He found no reason for her to put up with him, he was much older than her, he fundamentally had a different outlook on life. However, whenever she looked at him with those eyes, full of hope and ... some emotion he couldn’t read, he couldn’t help but love her. Not that he’d ever tell her. Not that she’d ever love him back. It was just something for him to know, for him to whisper to himself at night.

      - The short, fat one? - he said once again as he attempted to bring the tree into her living room. - Why?

      - It’s not fat. - she took her scarf off. - It’s chubby.

He mumbled sure under his breathe, placing the tree on the corner of her living room. Her flat was much more of a home than his, she’d taken her time making it comfortable to her, decorating it with as much love as she had. He looked at the photos on the walls - several from her childhood, brother and sister; however, a small one in a frame by the kitchen caught his attention. God, he could barely remember that day with Sam, yet there it was, a photo of the three of them. 

     - Do you want some tea? - she returned from her bedroom. - I have chamomile, mint, green, black, blueberry and Wan got me some from her trip to Europe with Vis. 

     - Did Sam tell you to bail me out?

     - I think Sam’s a bit busy playing Santa to constantly watch over you, Buck. White or Christmas mug?

     - How did you know then? - he ignored her question.

     - I care about you, Buck. Besides, Sam changed your emergency contact to me a very long time ago.

    - It’s not your obligation to constantly watch over me, you know?

    - I know but we’re ... we’re friends, right? That’s what friends do. 

    - We’re not friends, Maximoff. Just because we were tortured by the same people does not makes us close. 

    - We weren’t tortured by the same people, considering I wasn’t alive in the 40s. 

    - You know what I mean, Y/N. You chose to go, I didn’t. - stop, he yelled mentally to himself.

    - I didn’t chose to go. - she turned around, crossing her arms. - I didn’t chose to go, I didn’t willingly go to die, I had no choice. I know you’re defensive and I know you don’t want help but I don’t deserve having to listen from you that I willingly chose to be used and tortured. 

Fuck, Bucky. That was not good. 

    - Sorry. - he mumbled. 

    - I don’t know why you don’t like me. - she confessed. - I don’t know what I’ve done to make you say those things to me or to hate me. 

    - I don’t hate you. 

    - Because I’ve never been rude to you, or mean to you and I know you don’t want to be helped but I thought maybe you’d like to have someone. 

    - I like to have someone. 

    - Then why do you keep pushing me away?

    - Because ... well fuck it, a new year is about to start, and I can’t go another year hiding this from you.

   - Hide what?

   - I love you.

She stood frozen on her ground, her cheeks flustered with heat as she held onto the marbled balcony of her kitchen. 

   - Oh ...

   - And I don’t deserve you. Shit, Maximoff, how would I even ... how could we even ...

   - You know ... some people take someone on a date first.

   - People these days are very slow with emotion deciphering. 

   - I still would like to be wined and dined first. 

   - Oh ...

   - Yeah ... so are you gonna ask me on a date Barnes?

[mariana-oconnor]

The Five Orange Pips pt 3

It had cleared in the morning, and the sun was shining with a subdued brightness through the dim veil which hangs over the great city.

I mourn the loss of the storm descriptions, but this is still lovely.

I also have 'I can see clearly now the rain has gone' playing in my head.

As I waited, I lifted the unopened newspaper from the table and glanced my eye over it. It rested upon a heading which sent a chill to my heart. "Holmes," I cried, "you are too late."

Once again Watson reading the paper is important. Does Holmes just miss out on major events when Watson isn't here? Does he turn up to meetings only to find the person he was meeting with is dead? Does he have other people read the newspapers for him? Does he... do it himself? *shudder*

This is a really tragic story, even allowing for the fact that Elias Openshaw was a tremendous dick and his death was the opposite of a tragedy. Holmes and Watson's inability to save anyone is just... This isn't something you would see in modern detective fiction, except in very extreme examples. I'm not convinced that any of the Openshaws were exactly good people (hanging out with racist former terrorists will do that) but there is still tragedy in this. They all died. The last two for no reason. It's such senseless death. Holmes was too late. Everything was just too late. Even if they weren't good people, their deaths are just... so pointless.

In real life, I don't tend to think anyone deserves death. In fiction, a satisfying death is... well, satisfying. These offer no satisfaction or pathos or purpose. So yeah, tragic.

"Between nine and ten last night Police-Constable Cook, of the H Division, on duty near Waterloo Bridge, heard a cry for help and a splash in the water.

I love how they record the name of the officer in the paper. It's more like an incident report than a news story. Good old Police-Constable Cook. I hope he got a nice cup of tea and a biscuit.

It proved to be that of a young gentleman whose name, as it appears from an envelope which was found in his pocket, was John Openshaw, and whose residence is near Horsham.

If this were a modern mystery it absolutely would not be John Openshaw. That's a terrible way to identify a body. I know there's no DNA and no fingerprinting, and also his entire family has been murdered by racist terrorists, but still. Sometimes I have letters to other people in my pockets. Sometimes I have loyalty cards etc. belonging to other people in my pockets because I am borrowing them. But I am not my father... I kind of want it to not be him. He's faked his own death and is living in Tahiti and the person in the river is the guy who tried to kill him. Good for John.

The body exhibited no traces of violence, and there can be no doubt that the deceased had been the victim of an unfortunate accident

Vengeful ghost. Vengeful ghost!

calling the attention of the authorities to the condition of the riverside landing-stages.

Well, at least some good has come of this adventure. I'm all for improving health and safety.

"No; I shall be my own police. When I have spun the web they may take the flies, but not before."

Police-Constable Cook has had enough excitement for one day. Best if he gets some rest.

But now shit's personal. They made him angry.

All day I was engaged in my professional work

I mean, I know Watson has a day job, but it's strangely jarring to have this 'we failed' revelation and then Watson goes off and listens to people cough for 8 hours or something. 😂🤣😂

"I have them in the hollow of my hand. Young Openshaw shall not long remain unavenged. Why, Watson, let us put their own devilish trade-mark upon them. It is well thought of!" "What do you mean?" He took an orange from the cupboard, and tearing it to pieces he squeezed out the pips upon the table. Of these he took five and thrust them into an envelope. On the inside of the flap he wrote "S. H. for J. 0."

Sherlock is petty af and I am here for it.

"I have spent the whole day," said he, "over Lloyd's registers and files of the old papers, following the future career of every vessel which touched at Pondicherry in January and February in '83."

I also appreciate that Holmes is shown here doing the tedious legwork. It's not all sudden sparks of inspiration and instant feats of deduction. Sometimes you have to go down to a room full of records and read until your eyes bleed.

We did at last hear that somewhere far out in the Atlantic a shattered stern-post of the boat was seen swinging in the trough of a wave, with the letters "L. S." carved upon it, and that is all which we shall ever know of the fate of the Lone Star.

Another set of criminals lost at sea. Not sure why that happened this time when they could have been caught another way, but... I guess they... got their comeuppance? ACD really liked 'storms blow everybody dies' endings, I guess.

Return of the 'equinoctial gales' though! Glad they got a callback after being such main characters throughout. Does that count as foreshadowing?

[hotforharrysheart]

Pete’s Place

“No, no, no, no! Mumma!” You cry out. “Daddy!” You’re crying and whimpering and then you sit straight up in bed, panting, tears streaming down your face.

Harry wakes up with a start. “Ya had another nightmare, dinna ya?” He asks as you lay back down and snuggle into his chest, closing your eyes and listening to his steady heartbeat.

You nod.

“Tha’s the third one ya’ve had since the cottage. Blackout really did a number on ya, yeah?” He asks, stroking your hair.

You look up and meet his eyes. “I…this is different. It’s about my parents. I think…I think my memories are trying to come back.”

He sighs. “Ya gotta find a therapist, Jezebel.”

“I know…I'm scared...not sure I wanna remember what happened more than what I've read in the police report,” you say, fingers running over his sparrow tattoos.

“Know ya scared bu’ ya can’ keep havin’ these nightmares, love.”

You sigh. "I'm so sorry, H, this is the last thing you need during MSG..."

“The hell wi’ tha’. I’ll cancel the whole thing if I hafta.”

You press a kiss to his chin. "I promise I'll find someone...some of the victims I’ve interviewed have seen a childhood trauma specialist, I can probably find someone...and I'll make sure they understand our situation with the public."

“Today, if ya can. Wan’ ya ta be happy, Jezebel. Maybe my therapist can recommend someone in New York.”

You meet his eyes. “You’d do that for me?”

“Do anythin’ fo’ ya, know tha’.”

You smile and press a kiss to his lips.

“I’ll text her today. Get ya a referral.”

“Thank you.”

“Ya welcome, baby. Ya excited for New York City?”

“It’ll be nice to be in one place for a bit…even if it is NYC,” you say giggling.

He laughs his breathy little laugh. “It has its challenges, yeah, bu’ there’s a great Italian restaurant I wanna take ya to.”

“Yeah? Tell me about pasta while I’m starving why don’t ya!” You tease him.

He chuckles. “Best pasta I’ve ever had outside of Italy. It’s a family owned place in an old house an’ ya in ya own room an’ the waiters knock befo’ enterin’. If ya need somethin’ ya flip a light on. S’called Pete’s Place.” He smiles, and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Mmmm…sounds romantic and nummy.”

“It is. Can’ wait ya take ya there,” he says, fingering your engagement ring. “Only the best fo’ my Jezebel.”

You smile and lean in for a kiss and then he’s kissing you in soft, open-mouthed kisses that cause your blood to boil. By the time he rolls you over and settles his weight on you, you’re aching for him to be inside you.

“Gonna fuck my gorgeous fiancé, get her some brekkie, workout an’ then chill out fo’ the rest of the day…how’s tha’ sound?”

“Mmmm…sounds good,” you say, legs falling open for him to slot between.

He furrows his brow as he feels your warm pussy against him. “I love ya, Jezebel. I wan’ ya ta remember tha’. Always,” he says, as he moves just enough to slide into you.

You gasp. “I love you too, H. I always have.”

The day rolls by faster than expected, thankfully Harry was able to contact his therapist who contacted another therapist, Dr. Sarah Jane Freeman, who specializes in childhood trauma. She called promptly to schedule an initial appointment. After an initial consultation she requested a copy of the police report from your parent’s murder and made a virtual appointment for you for that afternoon. On the plane, you were able to do a little research on Dr. Freeman. She’s impressively qualified and highly recommended. As soon as you arrive at the NYC apartment, you have just enough time to send off a copy of your parent’s police report and start a load of laundry before it’s time for your appointment.

Harry helps you get set up in the office for the call then kisses your forehead, “You be alrigh’?”

You nod your head with a slight shrug. “Yeah… nervous, but yeah, I’ll be alright.”

He leans in for a warm hug then cups your cheeks. “Ya gon’ be jus’ fine, yeah? Jus’ relax an’ be honest wi’ her. ‘ll be close, jus’ gonna work on some melodies at tha piano.” You smile softly, close your eyes and pucker up animatedly looking for a kiss to which he happily complies. “I love ya an’…ya ‘ave ma support, we’ll get though it tagether, yeah?”

“Thank you, I love you,” you say taking in a deep breath and visibly steadying your shoulders. “That’s right, I can do this,” you say with false bravado, “can’t I?”

“Ya can, love,” He says kissing your nose and squeezing you closing to him.

You get comfortable in the office chair and find the monitor display ready for the call, thanks to Harry. He really does care, you think to yourself. “So lucky,” you whisper aloud as you look at the door he just left through. The chime comes through indicating an incoming call. You steady yourself, smile and click to accept the video connection. A lovely, gentle-faced, middle-aged woman’s face and shoulder’s fill the screen. She smiles kindly, removing her reading glasses and setting her clip board to one side. She cordially greets and introduces herself and you do the same. “So, I see that you had quite a troubling event happen when you were eleven. I’ve read the police report and I’m very sorry that you had to go through that at such a young age,” she says before leaning in. “Let’s put that aside for a moment, tell me what you remember about your parents.”

You take a deep breath and fidget nervously, “Well, Dr. Freeman...”

“Please, call me Sarah Jane,” she smiles setting you at ease.

“Well…so much of what I remember about them is centered around the shop they owned. My mum, Laura, and my father, Edward, owned a jewelry shop. Daddy was born in Gloucester and met my mother while they were in college in London,” you smile and look down, “I really wish I’d paid more attention to the stories they must’ve shared about how they fell in love, but I didn’t. They moved to Boston after college and eventually opened the shop,” you shake your head at the memories, “’Laura’s Fine Jewelry and Antiquities Shoppe’.” You chuckle softly at the memory, “When I was little I couldn’t pronounce ‘Antiquities’…I would say, ‘Laura’s Five Chewry and Tickletickies’,” you giggle and look up at Sarah Jane who is listening intently with a relaxed smile. “I remember that Daddy called mum, Button. I can remember him calling, ‘Button, ya ‘ere, love,’ when he would come in the shop after being away and she would always say, ‘where else would I be, honey.’ Isn’t that sweet? They must’ve been so in love,” you say looking to her for reassurance. Sarah Jane smiles, “It sounds lovely. I hope you realize that as young as you were it’s perfectly normal to have not paid much attention to your parent’s relationship. You were still a child and focused on yourself in relation to your parents. Absolutely normal.”

You brace yourself to continue, “Most of my memories are at the shop, I loved being there. It was always bright and, I swear, everything in the front room shined like…well…like diamonds. I loved helping mum clean the glass cabinets. There were all kinds of things to look at…some of the antiques they had were extremely old, like old porcelain and silver, but the cases I wasn’t allowed to touch were kept in the back. They had some very, very old English jewelry…rings, bracelets, brooches and watches. They kept everything locked up in the display cases, but the back cases were often empty because Daddy would only bring out the very old, expensive things when a customer had an appointment. The rest of the time those things were kept in a safe.” You smile at a memory that pops in your head, “Mum used to jingle when she moved because she carried the keys to the cases on a stretchy pink key chain around her wrist. She always smelled so good…my god, they were so trusting…,” you say with a lump in your throat.

“So, what I like to do is just get right into the event. It’s a sort of ‘ripping the band aid off’ move, but I feel like it’s best to get that nervous anticipation over so that you don’t spend too much time focusing on it or anxiously worrying about when we’re going to bring it up. Once it’s out in the air, we can focus on you a bit more in our sessions, does that sound ok?”

You nod, “Yes, that sounds fine.”

She nods compassionately and leans forward, “You doing alright, do you need a break?”

“Uhh…no, no, I’m good, I just wanna get through this…”

“Ok, well, just let me know if you need a break, I want you to feel comfortable,” she sits back, picks up her clipboard and perches her glasses on her nose, “I’ve read the police report you sent. I only received two pages, however, maybe the whole document didn’t come through?”

“No. That’s the full report that was done by Detective Fitzgerald and his partner Detective O’Malley,” you say raising your eyebrows and shrugging.  “You know I have a true-crime podcast and of all the homicide reports I’ve ever looked at, I’ve never seen one so short. It’s shorter than most B and E, err…break and entering reports. And by the time I was old enough to wanna look into it, Detective Fitzgerald was retired and Detective O’Malley is dead. It’s frustrating and I have no memories from that day.”

“Well, you do have memories from that day, your sweet eleven-year-old brain just protected you by locking them away from your consciousness,” Sarah Jane reassures.

“I’m not sure I wanna remember them, honestly,” you say looking away.

“Well, I feel like the dreams you’ve been having aren’t giving you much choice, that day is going to come out eventually, maybe when you least expect it, that’s where it’s good for you to have a strong support system around you to support you through the process. Do you have the support you need?”

“Yeah, I have a great support system…I mean, you know my situation, although Harry and my friends, most of whom are with the band and crew are very busy, they’re such amazing people. Harry is the most spectacular person; he’a my best friend and is so supportive.”

“I’m so glad to hear that, and I’m so glad Harry knows about this event, and…”

“Well…” you interrupt, “I…, uh, haven’t really told him much about it, I mean, he knows some things, like, obviously that they’re not alive, but…I-I-I haven’t told him…or really anyone…about what happened. I’ve just gone to school, more school, worked, and….now the pod cast…”

“Why do you think you haven’t told him about it?”

“I just…I dunno, really… maybe, he won’t feel the same about me? I mean, what if this gets out to the press…he’s got such a following…and… and…maybe…I just…,” you shake your head at your rambling and grumble at the tears that fill your eyes. You rub your forehead, “I mean, I just don’t wanna… put all this on him.”

“Well, I can’t tell you what his reaction will be, that’s where trust comes in, do you feel safe with him?”

“Absolutely,” you answer immediately.

“I encourage you to think about what his reaction would be based on everything you know about him and consider sharing with him. We can talk more about that in moment if you like,” she says making a note. “So, I’ve read the police report, but I’d like to hear in your words what happened. Don’t try too hard to focus on specifics, just tell me like you’re telling a story.”

“Most of what I remember is what just what I’ve read in the report or heard from my Aunt Elizabeth, but after a while the subject was just dropped, and we never talked about it. Apparently, my father had some extremely valuable antique watches, that he kept in the safe in the back. He had dealers who would make appointments to come in for trades and purchases. One afternoon around closing time a couple of men in suits, at least that’s what the witness who saw them leaving said, came to the shop just as Mumma was locking up. For whatever reason she let them in, because there was no evidence of forced entry. I was in the back; my parents had set up a couch, television and desk area for me for after school. Somehow, they ended up overpowering her and proceeded to tape up her hands. I must’ve heard because I told the officers I crawled out from under the couch after it was all over. According to the report, she was sat on the couch and, apparently, gave them the combination to the safe. They took all the antiques and some other jewelry from the front cases.” Thoughtfully you say, “They must’ve gotten the keys from Mum’s wrist. Then Daddy, came in through the front…he probably called for his Button like he always did,” you say with a slight smile, “I told them that one man went to the front while the other stayed with my Mum.” You swallow hard, “Something caused him to hit her very hard and she was crying. I told the officer that she wouldn’t stop crying and saying ‘Edward’ and,” you take a break and use air quotes, “I told him that ‘he put a plastic bag around her head to make her be quiet’, I mean…apparently that’s what I said. She was found on the floor in front of the couch with her eyes open,” tears running down your cheeks, you reach for a tissue on the corner of the desk. Then the officer said it appeared that Daddy fought with the other man, but he never called for me. He told me that probably saved me, he must’ve known it was important to keep my presence private for my safety. God, he must’ve been so scared,” you sob. “Then there were two loud pops and..and…the fighting stopped. They must’ve opened the cases and took some other jewelry, but they left some behind as well. It..It seems that, m-my parents had great financial sense. Evidently, they never used credit, all the inventory was paid for and insurance paid for what was stolen.” You look at your hands tightly threaded and gripping each other. What was left af-after their f-f-funerals was placed in a trust for my Aunt Elizabeth to use to raise me and give me a good education,” you shake your head like you’re trying to rid yourself of the cobwebs. “Anyway, the bad men turned out the lights and left out the back door. According to the Medical Examiner’s determination of my parent’s time of death, I didn’t manage to leave until it was after dark…and when I did, I ran out into the street and flagged down a passerby screaming. Th-Then I passed out and was taken by EMS to the hospital where I was watched over and interviewed. But honestly, now…I don’t remember anything other than staying with nurses in the hospital until Aunt Elizabeth could come get to me. It appears that, I was in the shop…with…,” a sob escapes your chest, “with them for over three hours just hiding under the couch. An-an-and now, I’m having these dreams and flashes of memory and I’m sick that it’s never been solved. I mean, Sarah Jane, I’ve helped other cases get reopened and looked into, even solved, but for some reason, no one with Boston PD, at least not in the Beacon Hill borough, seems to be very helpful. But I haven’t really tried that hard either… I-I…haven’t wanted to know in all honesty. I can help someone else’s case quite easily, but I just don’t wanna think about my own.”

“Well, I think it’s going to be a very healthy thing for you to continue therapy. I would like to continue to work with you to help you face these memories and deal with them. I would highly recommend that you NOT work on this case yourself, at least not for a while, you need to deal with these dreams and memories before you start working on the case as aggressively as you do in your pod cast. Yes, I’m a fan, you do great work. Very inspiring. Let’s deal with these dreams and how they fit in your world now at age 32 because somewhere in there is a little 11-year-old girl who is fighting to remember what happened to her. So, let’s work on giving her some peace of mind. How does that sound?”

“I would really like that, I’m nervous but… I…I am going to trust this process,” you say with a slightly plastic smile.

“I also reviewed your intake paperwork, and you said you were open to hypnotherapy, right?”

“Yeah, I’ve never tried it, but I know a few of the clients I’ve worked with have found it to be helpful, so I’m open to it.  I don’t know if you can get me to clear my mind enough to go under…but…who knows? Maybe I’ll just fall asleep, as tired as I am,” you say with a disgusted chuckle.

Dr. Freeman frowns, “You mentioned you weren’t relaxing enough to rest well, and the nightmares were keeping you up as well. I have a supplement I recommend for that L-Theanine is an excellent source of a specialized amino acid that helps with anxiety. I’ll send you a link to purchase and I recommend one capsule each night before bed. It can even help in a pinch if you’re feeling particularly anxious. Make sure you’re taking a good multivitamin and get that handsome boyfriend of yours to help you relax before bed so you can get a full night’s sleep. It’s going to be important as we work together that you take good care of yourself, ok?”

“Thank you, I will,” you say nibbling your fingers.

“I have an appointment available on Friday morning at 10 a.m. Will that work for you?”

You take a moment to review your schedule and that happens to be a great time for you albeit the day before the first MSG show, that night you and Harry have a dinner engagement to attend, but that morning works.  “That works great for me,” you say as you add it to your calendar.

She takes her glasses off and sets the clipboard back to one side. “Excellent, now I want you to do me a favor. I would like for you to keep track of any dreams, flashbacks or things that arise related to your parents. I recommend you just keep notes on your phone of when things come up of what it was you remembered, what you were doing when you remembered it and how it made you feel. It can be as detailed or as simple as you like, but just make sure you note it so we can talk about it. Feel free to make a note of anything that might come up that you’re curious about, but I specifically want you to remember to note those parent related ideations that arise.”

You finish up your conversation, bid your thank yous and farewells and close the call. “Whew!” you say rolling back from the desk. You take a moment to look at the picture on the desk. It’s a candid shot of you at the cottage on the sitting on the couch in low light with a glass of wine in your hand, the fire place reflecting off the glass and your eyes as you smile softly for the camera. No, not for the camera, for Harry…that’s who you were smiling for. That’s who always makes you smile, you think as you finger your engagement ring. You hear a soft knock at the door and see his fingers appear on the door as he cracks it slightly and pokes his curly-haired head in.

“Ya alright, babe? Dinna hear ya talkin’ when I walked by…though’ I’d check on ya,” he says leaning against the doorframe half in the door and half out.

“Yeah, I’m good. It’s just a lot.”

He scoots in all the way and walks over to you behind the desk. He leans over and rests his hands on the arms of your chair. “You really ok, baby?” he asks kissing the top of your head.

You let your head fall back against the chair headrest, “Yeah, I will be,” you say searching his eyes. You know you should really tell him everything, it just doesn’t feel like the right time. He’s so patient to wait. So heartstoppingly patient and understanding, he may long to know what’s happened, but he would never hold an expectation that you reveal anything before you’re ready. “I love you, H,” you say cupping his cheek.  

He turns his head to kiss the palm of your hand, “I love ya too…so much.”

“Thank you for this,” you say nodding toward the monitor.

He squats down and rests his hands on your thighs, “Ya welcome. Hey, I made a reservation fo’ tanight at Pete’s Place. Talked ta Pete, himself,” he smiles a smirky grin, “We’ll be in the Carina room, that’s Pete’s wife’s and Pete said Carina would be serving us herself.”

“How very posh,” you say with a sly smile, “I hope Carina can keep secrets…”

His eyebrows jump, “Mmmm…like tha sound of tha’.” His hands run up and down your thighs. “Wear a dress, somethin’ sexy…”

“Yes, sir,” you say leaning forward as if to kiss him. You pass his lips instead and go straight for his ear where you blow out gently, “Something sexy, hmm? Harold, do you have plans for me? Would you like to come help me pick something out, I do…sooo love…your…tassstte…” you continue breathily.

He puffs out a breath against your neck. “Careful wha’ ya wish fo’ Jezebel,” he rasps against your skin causing you to shiver.

Your hands move to his neck, fingers lightly grazing the nape of his neck because you know it drives him crazy and you feel his pulse jump under your palm. “I’ll wear whatever you pick out…no complaints.”

He smirks and kisses your neck. “In tha’ case come wi’ me,” he says standing up and grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the office and into the walk-in closet. “I have the perfect dress fo’ ya,” he says, leaning down to pull out a fancy box from one of the drawers and sets it on the top of the dresser.

“What’s this?!”

“Wha’ ya wearin’ tonigh’ wi’ no complaints,” he says smirking.

Your hands hesitate over the box.

“Go on. Open it.”

“Ok,” you say breathily and open the box. You’d challenged him and the fact that he’d already anticipated this moment has your heart racing. Hands shaking, you untie the bow and pull up the lid and gently peel back the glittery tissue paper and gasp. You pull out the dress, mouth open. It’s a beautiful mini dress. Parts of it are sheer but there are crystals strategically placed so that your covered but skin will still show through.

He’s watching you intently, gauging your reaction. “Ya like it?”

Your eyes slide to meet his. “It’s gorgeous. Everyone’s gonna see a lot of me tonight,” you say blushing.

“Body like yours deserves to be shown off. There’s more,” he says pointing to the box.

You lay down the dress and go back into the box and pull out a pair of matching ballet flats. He knows your aversion to high heels. You smile and move to stand in front of him. “Thank you. I love it.”

He places his hands on your waist. “Can’ wait ta see ya in it an’ can’ wait ta see ya out of it,” he says against your mouth.

“Mmmm…me either.”

He leans and kisses you…soft at first and then you feel his tongue on the seam of your lips.

You open your mouth and your tongue darts out and tangles with his. You sigh into his kisses and just let yourself be consumed by him - the taste of him, the feel of him, the smell of him. You moan into his mouth and he pulls you closer, one of his hands on your bum pulling you into him.

He pulls back, both of you breathless, eyes glazed over with lust. “If I dinna wan’ see ya in tha’ dress s’bad, I’d cancel our reservation,” he says pressing his forehead to yours.

“Mmmm…don’t tempt me.”

He laughs his breathy little laugh. “Hired a hair an’ makeup person fo’ ya. They should be here soon.”

“Harry…didn’t have to.”

“Know I didn’t. Wan’ned ta.”

“Thank you.”

Just then you hear a knock at the door. “That’ll be them then.”

You pad out of the closet and open the door and sure enough it’s the beauty team. You welcome them in and they get set up and get started making you look beautiful.

An hour and half later and your coiffed and made up and it’s time to get ready. You decide on a tiny pair of thong bikini panties and then you slip your barely there dress on and pull it down, careful not to ruin your hair and makeup and then look in the mirror and your mouth drops open. Your hands smooth down your body and you smile. It’s gorgeous. You slip your sparkly flats on and go to the en-suite in search of Harry. He’s standing in front of the bathroom mirror styling his curls. You smile watching him without him knowing.

Finally satisfied with his hair he turns and sees you in the doorway and his eyes get wide. “Fuckin’ hell, Jezebel. Ya look…look fuckin’ gorgeous.”

You giggle. “Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.”

He looks down at his black flared pants, lace shirt with the ribbon tie and black blazer that he wore at Jeffery’s wedding and smiles. “Thank ya. Ya ready?”

You nod.

“Jus’ gotta put my shoes and rings on.”

You smile. “Sure.”

You sit on the bed and watch him select his rings and slip them on and you shiver, a shot of arousal shooting straight through you at the sight. You look down at your gorgeous engagement ring and sigh. The thought of taking it off makes you sad. You get up and walk into the closet and silently place your ring in his ring box. He meets your eyes as his fingers trace over your ring finger, letting you know that it’s ok. He pulls your hands up to his mouth and kisses it.

You smile.

“Ya ready?”

You nod and then you’re getting in the elevator and going down to the lobby and out the door where Cal is waiting for you in the car.

Harry helps you settle by buckling you in, something he’s always done. “Thank you,” you say as he softly kisses you.

He quirks an eye. “Wha’ fo’?” he says as he buckles himself.

“For always making sure I’m buckled in.”

He smiles, staring hard, “Baby, always make sure ya safe,” he leans in to your ear, “’sides, gives me a great opportunity ta accidentally touch ya…fuck knows I’d do anythin’ ta get close ta ya…mmm…ya smell so good tanight,” he says has he noses behind your ear causing a hitch in your breathing and your body to break out in goosebumps.

“Thank you, it’s just my shampoo.”

“Nah, tha’s no’ wha’ it is…jus’ you…’s jus’ you, love,” he says before he kisses his way to your lips.

You smile as he pulls away. “So where is Pete’s, babe?”

“’S jus’ outside tha city. ‘S quiet an’ Pete an’ Carina are tha swee’est people. Lovely, large Italian family…all in tha business tagether. It’s in this old three story ‘ouse tha’s been renova’ed to ‘ave tables in their own rooms so ya eat in privacy. We are in Carina’s room on tha third floor. ‘S ma favorite room, ‘s quiet. Ev’rythin’ is so fresh an’ Pete’s cookin’ fo’ us tanight, so he knows wha’ I wan’ an’…well, babe, ya jus’ gon’ love it as much as me. Carina makes this red wine vinegar dressin’ fo the salad…mmm… it’s delicious.”

“I sounds amazing, and what a great concept to have rooms in an old home for dining.”

“It is…an’ each room closes off. Staff always knock before enterin’ an’ ya call fo’ them by switchin’ on a light that indicates ya need service. Most of tha time ‘s hard ta get a reservation,” he says running his fingers down your thigh.

You slide you hand over his and can’t help the disappointment of seeing your hand on his without your engagement ring. You quickly recover and place your other hand over it so it’s out of sight.

He notices the disappointment, “Soon, baby, soon….”

“No, I don’t wanna rush it, honestly, I’m enjoying it as our secret, I just miss my ring I’ll be glad when Anne sends that chain so I can wear it around my neck.”

“Yeah, it’ll be close ta ya heart, right here,” he says running his hand over your chest.

“You tryna cop a feel, Styles?” you tease.

“No’ at first, bu’ maybe now,” he says as his finger runs down and around your nipple.

Cal clears his throat and announces that you’re about fifteen minutes out.

The rest of the drive is a beautiful trek through a heavily wooded area up a two-lane road that looks like a private drive, but there doesn’t seem to be anything in sight ahead. Finally, you break through to a clearing and a big, beautiful yellow Victorian home with white trim is lit up like a Christmas tree. There’s a small sign hanging that says, “Pete’s Place est. 1953”.  There are two white rocking chairs on the front porch, one with the name “Pete” painted on the head rest and the other “Carina”. There are wooden crates stacked with tomatoes and lemons in some and brown bottles in the others. It’s absolutely charming. The minute the door to the car opens you can smell the fresh cut grass that surrounds and, yep, the smell of roasted garlic and fresh baked Italian bread.

You grab Harry’s hand as you make you way up the sidewalk to the front doors. Through the glass of the front door there you see a small, dark-haired woman dressed in a red dress covered with a white apron looking back at you. She claps her hands together and throws the doors open but takes a moment to yell back in the house, “Pe - te! He’s here!”

Harry squeezes your hand and looks at you with a smile and you can’t resist the grin and giggle that escapes.

“Har-ry! It’s so lovely to see you,” she says as she grabs his cheeks to kiss. She abruptly pushes him to the side and grabs your hands and looks you up and down, “And this must be the beautiful love you told Pete about!” She cups your cheek, “You are too beautiful for Harry! Harry!” She whirls around to him, “She’s too beautiful for you, piccolo!”

“I know, I know, Carina,” he says with laugh and a shrug.

She turns to point a wagging finger at him, “And you’d do good to never forget that, piccolo! She’s too beautiful…just perfecto,” she says turning back to you.

At this point you can’t help the giggles coming from behind your hand that’s covering your mouth. Carina is something else and then some. She’s utterly delightful.

“Leave the bambino alone, Rina…” a gray-haired balding man standing in the doorway says as he dries his hands on a towel.

Harry walks over to him, “Pete, thanks for havin’ us on such short notice.”

Pete reaches out to shake his hand and ends up pulling him in for a hug, “You know we always have room for you here Harry! I see Rina has met your lady, but I haven’t had the pleasure.”

After introductions, Pete excuses himself to the kitchen and Carina leads you up the stairs to your dining room.

“You are in the Carina Room, piccolo.” Carina says smoothing her apron as she makes her way up the steps.

Harry squeezes your hand and winks as you follow Carina up the stairs. You rush up a couple of steps to get ahead of him and tease him by stopping causing him to step into your bum. You glance over your shoulder to smirk and wink animatedly at him as he grabs your hips above him to steady himself. He quickly places a kiss to your lower back and then makes his way up the couple of steps and up a few more to pull you along. “Minx,” he mutters on his way by causing you to giggle.

“Careful Harry! Be a gentleman!” Carina scolds looking over the banister to see what’s taking you so long, “Don’t rush her up the stairs.” Shaking her head, “Bambini che giocano sulle scale. Heavens! Bambini che si fanno male,” Carina mutters under her breath in Italian.

You look at Harry and both swallow the giggle that threatens to erupt. “Busted,” you mouth to him. He sticks his tongue out and makes a goofy face before finally sucking in both lips with a smirk. When you reach the landing you quickly make your way to Carina before she has a chance to turn around.

“Har… where is that bambino?” Carina asks placing both hands on her hips.  

Ever the tattle-tale you point toward the landing and say, “He’s back there…”

“Harry! Stop ya dawdlin’, piccolo.  My gracious, your mind is wandering like a lost sheep,” she says taking your hand and leading you into your dining room.

“This is your room for supper tonight,” she says as opens the china cabinet and pulls out two dinner plates, salad plates, bowls, stemware and locates flatware from the drawers.  She begins to set the beautiful, yet overly large dining table.  She sets two places on the corner of the rectangular table.  There are six chairs along the ends and one side of the table and a long bench along the other side. The table is rustic looking with a dark stain and a matching, lighted china cabinet sat at one end holding enough china and wares for the seats in the room. Carina pulls out two silver candle sticks and gold long tapered candles, “I use the nice candles for you, darling. This is a special occasion, no?” she comments looking at you.

You look over to Harry who smiles at the floor, “They’re all special occasions with her, Carina.”

You blush and match his smile at the floor as he moves over to wrap his arm around your waist.

“Oh piccolo, I can see that…I can certainly see that.” She turns to you and takes your hand in hers, “He never brings a lady here…it is love that brings you,” she says and makes a point to tap your left ring finger causing you to gasp and look at him with wide eyes.

He tugs on his smiling lips with his forefinger and thumb and shakes his head looking at the floor, “Carina, ya are a hopeless roman’ic…,” he drawls with an extra thick accent.

She pats your hand and turns to leave, “Harry will tell you how things work around here, bambina. Harry, piccolo, you want your usual?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Alright, I will leave you two alone. Shall I serve you or would you like to just serve yourselves?”

“Ya know, Carina, I think we can manage, I’ll flip tha light if we need ya. Also sent up a bottle of red, an’ some of your ginger beer an’ cream soda. Wanna give my girl here a taste of Pete’s specialties,” he says pulling you close to him.

“Will do, I’ll send it up the waiter, along with an ice bucket. You need anything else, you flip the light.” She turns her attention to you, “Welcome, darling, we hope you enjoy your evening, and it’s lovely to meet you,” she says as she steps outside the door. She slides the door panel door shut and the latch clicks.

You turn toward the table but before you can make a move, he has you pulled around and pushed up against the wall.

“Harry!” you whisper shout shocked.

He nuzzles your neck with his nose. “Can’ help it. Ya look s’amazin’…can’ stop starin’.” His hands slide down from your waist, just lightly grazing your sides until he reaches the hem of your dress. Both of your heads turn as you hear the whine and hiss of the dumb waiter. “An’ believe me, Jezebel, befo’ we leave here tonigh’, I’ll be doin’ a lot mo’ than starin’.”

“Harry,” you say breathless, gasping as his fingers slightly pull at the hem of your dress.

“Salads here. Shall we?” He says pulling back and going to stand in front of your chair, pulling it out.

You walk on shaky legs to the chair and sit down and he tucks you in.

He pours the wine and you clink glasses. “Cheers Jezebel.”

“Cheers.” You take a sip and sigh. “This is good.”

He smiles and brings the ice bucket with the ginger beer and cream soda, sitting it on the table. “Wanna try one of these?”

You shake your head. Let’s drink the wine first and have our salad. Heard a lot about this salad dressing from a fan of this place.”

He laughs his breathy little laugh.

“Fair enough, Jezebel,” he says spooning salad into two bowls from the large salad bowl. “Bread?”

You nod frantically and he chuckles, grabbing a slice of warm bread on the side of the bowl.

He places the bowl in front of you and then you’re picking up your forks and diving in.

“Oh my god, you were right about this dressing! It’s delicious!”

Harry smiles at you fondly. “Knew you’d love it.”

You take a bite of bread. “Don’t get me started on this bread.”

“It’s worth the carbs, this bread.”

You finish up your salads and wine and he places all the dishes and extra food in the dumbwaiter and hits the button.

“They’ll box up any leftovers,” he says before you can ask. “We have about 45 minutes until dinner. Dance with me?”

“Ummm…” it’s just then you hear Little Freak coming out of the speakers and smile.

He stands up and holds out his hand and you place your hand in his and stand up. He pulls you into his arms and then you’re swaying to the song he wrote about you, never breaking eye contact. You can feel the goosebumps raise on your arms as he sings the chorus and places his forehead to yours.

You can’t help the lump that forms in your throat as he whispers the words. You swallow hard trying to hold it together.

“I’m… just thinkin’ abou’ you…,” he sings. “Ya know tha’s true, Jesus, baby, I’m always thinkin’ abou’ ya, you are such a distractin’,” he places a soft kiss to your lips and hold there, “doesn’t matter ‘f ya around or no’, ‘s effort ta concentrate…this song’s filled wi’ words an’ memories I had through tha years…jus’ hard ta believe ya mine, ‘m so in love wi’ ya.”

“I love you, H. So much it’s consuming.”

He runs his hand down your bum and pulls your hips in to his even more than they already are. You can feel his strong thighs and growing bulge.

“Harry…” you whisper softly.

“Sorry, ‘m jus’ thinkin’ abou’ when I finally go’ ta tell ya abou’ this song. Waited s’ fuckin’ long for ya ta ‘no…was worth tha wait,” he kisses your bottom lip then works his way to your ear, “Buried deep inside ya when I told ya abou’ it, ‘member?”

“God, Harry, how could I forget. We left our own dinner party…got me naked…”

“Was abou’ ta bare ma soul, wan’ed ya bare ta me,” he says kissing below your ear. “Felt so fuckin’ good…but ya always feel s’good ta me.”

About that time the song closes and you whimper softly, “Damn…” you mutter.  Then you hear the first few chords and know immediately what’s about to play next. He pulls his stare back on yours and kisses your nose. You both whisper, “Used to spend nights out in bar room…” as the song Tennessee Whiskey drips softly from the speakers. Your sways instinctively slows, but you pull in even closer, wrapping your arms around his neck as he grins down at you and moves in to kiss your shoulder. His finger thread up through the back of your hair and he presses his lips hard to the space below your ear. His teeth work their way up to the lobe of your ear and you feel the warmth of his breath whisp down your neck. You shiver.

“Warm…as a glass of brandy…I stay…stoned..on your love…all..the..time,” he breaths in your ear. “So warm, baby, ya always s’warm…God, I wan’ make ya cum so bad, wan’ see it, wan’ feel it….wan’ taste it, he whispers thickly, accent rasping in your ear.

“Har…” you start to whisper

He takes a step forward which pushes you backward and you feel the table at your bum causing you to gasp as he slots a thigh against your core. “Please, love, don’ tell me no, please,” he pleads against your lips, his eyes wide, staring into yours.

“Ok,” is all you can manage.

His hands draw down to the hem of your dress and he walks it up to your waist. The dress is tight so it takes a little wiggle on your part to help him draw it up. His eyes stay on yours for a few seconds before he can’t stand it any longer and they fall to see what he has revealed. He grips your waist, “up…” he mutters as he helps you sit perched on the edge of the table. His hands slide down to between your knees and he pulls them open so he can work his hips in between them. He pulls you toward him opening you that much more to him.

“Tell me, angel. Are ya wet fo’ me?”

You gulp, meet his searching eyes and slowly start to nod.

“Jezebeeelll...,” he warns with a scolding but warm smile.

“Yes, Harry, god yes…I’m so wet for you,” you say closing your eyes and reveling in the fact that he is in control…when he wants your words…there’s no doubt left in your mind, he’s in control and he’s gonna take care of you and your surroundings so you have nothing to worry about. He’s got you. It’s the best feeling to just let go with him.

“Good girl,” he praises. He’s nose to nose with you, “Keep ya eyes on me, kay?

“Yes, I’ll keep my eyes on you.”

He smiles a tender, proud smile and you can’t help the feeling of excitement at making him proud.

He runs his hand up the inside of your thigh, his thumb rubbing the crease where your thigh meets your sex. “Ya ‘no I know ya scent, when we’re this close, my body know’s when ya turned on, just by ya scent. Ya ruined those tiny panties, right?”

You swallow hard and nod and he tsks and hisses, “Words please…”

You squeeze your eyes trying to concentrate, “Yes.”

“Yes, what, Jezebel?”

“Yes, I’ve ruined my panties,” you whimper softly against his mouth.

“Fuck, love ta hear ya breathe out those admissions,” he says biting his bottom lip and leaning his head to one side just as his lips take yours. He opens wide and thrusts his tongue in and slides it against yours. You’ve completely forgotten where you are as your fingers thread in the back of his hair. You suck on his tongue as he turns his head to get more of you. He continues to devour your mouth until you have to pull away to breathe. Panting he says, “Off…Off…take them off…” There’s no question, no statement to what he says, it’s a demand and you can’t wait to comply.

Just as you begin to reach under your hem to pull them off, he steps away to the door where he locks the latch and turns the lights off filling the room with only the light from the candles.

He’s back in an instant. “’S not that I don’t wanna see ya, ‘s jus’ that I wanna see the candlelight flicker in ya eyes,” he mutters as he helps by dropping your shoes to the floor and taking over pulling your panties off your ankles. He wads them up and shoves them in his pocket.

You smirk knowing he’s got a collection started of panties of yours he’s stolen in public places.

He cups both your cheeks in his hands and pulls your mouth to his for one last long sensual wet kiss. “Gonna lemme taste my honey? Gonna lay back on this table for me, Jezebel, and let me lick my pret-tee, wet, pussy, hmm?”

You answer by leaning back on both elbows.

He pulls your bum to the edge of the table and jerks a chair under him, sitting to get comfortable.

You smile and reach one hand out to cup his cheek to which he turns his head to kiss your palm.  “Ya gon’ have ta be quiet, yeah? I mean, think we’re tha only ones on tha third floor, but I can’t be sure.”

“I’ll be quiet, Harry.”

He nods and grabs your ankles to prop your heels on the edge of the table. He looks down at you wide open for him and can’t help but close his eyes and exhale through pursed lips. The air blowing out sliding over your wet cunt. He wraps his arms around your thighs and uses one hand to hold your dress up and the other to brace your hip. Keeping his eyes on yours, he starts by placing an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your knee, then the inside of your thigh. Jaw slack, you let out soft moan of anticipation. When he places a soft kiss to your sensitive clit, your eyes roll back in your head. When he licks a stripe up your slit you can hardly keep your head upright. Your brows furrow when he does it again and you let out a rather loud whimper causing him to pop off with a smack.

“Easy babe…” he warns.

“Uh, I’m trying!”

He reaches forward and lightly flicks your clit, “Don’ sass, Jezebel, it doesn’ become ya.”

You flex your bum at the sensation and your elbows falter, you lean give up the strength holding you up and just relax all the way down lifting your head just slightly looking for his approval. His hand rubs your tummy and his head nods once to let you know all is well. You reach down and thread your fingers with his on your tummy.

“I love ya, Jezebel, love ev’rythin’ abou’ ya, baby.”

“Oh Harry, I love you too.”

His free hand pets your pussy and his forefinger and middle finger part your lips. You can feel his warm rings against your skin, just before his warm wet tongue licks circles around your clit. You feel a rush of arousal coat your channel and the idea you might drip on Carina’s table causing you to jerk your knees together.

“Baby, ‘f had ya home, ‘d have these legs tied open, keep these knees open.”

You respond by letting your knees fall open again and you can feel his smile against your body, “Oh Harry…”

“So good fo’ me, my sweet Jezebel…love my sweet honey,” he says lapping at your sex, slurping every drop your body pushes out for him. You feel the fingers he’s using to hold you open slide down to your drippy hole and circle it.

“God that feels so good,” you whisper up into the room.

“Yeah?”

“Yes!”

“How abou’ this?” he asks just before he slips both fingers in to the first knuckle. He twists and turns his hand his fingers screwing into your depths.

“Hahh..Hahh,” you whimper moan and then bite the back of your free hand trying to get control of your noises.

“Wish I could hear ya, swee’heart, but we gotta be quiet,” he says kissing the inside of your knee.

“Mmmm…” you nod faltering and squeezing your eyes.

He leans in and kisses your clit as his fingers pump in and out. He curls his fingers slightly and immediately hits your g-spot. He knows your body better than you do at this point.

You raise your head to meet his eyes.

“There?” he asks.

You nod your response unable to speak at this point and you squeeze his fingers and bite your bottom lip and let out a soft whine as he pumps and pumps. When he sucks hard on your clit your head falls back to the table and your back arches sharply, knuckles turning while as you fist one hand.

He knows you’re close so he continues his assault on your sensitive body. His thumb replaces his lips on your clit and he circles softly as his other hand continues to pump.

“Close…I’m so close, H.  Don’t stop… don’t stop.”

He flutters his eyes and kisses the inside of your thigh. When your thighs begin to quiver with orgasm he mouths against your skin while his eyes fix on your opening and closing channel. “So fuckin’ sexy….”

With your back still arched you twist slightly from side to side as the contractions of the orgasm flood your core. You bite down hard on the inside of your mouth to keep from calling out to him.  

You raise your head to get his attention while he holds his lips to the inside of your thigh. “Please?” you whisper.

He furrows his brows.

“Want you…it just…not the same without you…want you, please?” you whisper while panting and staring with pupils blown, reaching for his arm to pull yourself up as he stands.

“Babe, I can wait,” he says hearing the dumbwaiter arrive with your food. You both look over to where the aroma of homemade Italian food is oozing.

You pull his cheek over to meet your eyes as you place your lips on his. “But I don’t wanna…I need to feel you inside me, please don’t say no,” you whine against his lips as you reach for the button on his pants. “I promise, I’ll be quick.”

“Jesus, Jezebel, tha’s supposed ta be my line,” he says grasping your wrists and smirking.

You look down at his hands on yours and frown then close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Step back for me”

He steps back and you slide off the table, turn around, pulling your dress up to your waist. You swing your hair to one side and brace yourself on the edge of the table, bent, with your legs spread for him.

He hesitates, takes a look at the locked door and back to your bare bum and begins to rapidly unbutton and unzip his pants. His hard cock falls out and you can barely swallow a whimpered groan.

He pushes down on your lower back cause your back to thrust your sex out to him. He grasps his cock and lines up with your sopping pussy and pushes in slowly inche by inch until he bottoms out deep inside you.

His jaw clenches and you can hear him swallow as he squeezes your waist.

About that time a shadow takes up space blocking the light from under the door.  

You both look over at the same time and you bite your bottom lip and he holds his finger up to his mouth. You both can’t help a slight snort of giggle.

Outside, Carina is about to knock when she stops stares at the door for a second, looks both ways then o leans in toward the door. She hears a gasp and snort, then silence. She straightens with a smile.

Pete comes up the stairs and bellows, “Well, did they like it?”

Carina waves down at Pete and shushes him. He walks over and whispers, “Is something wrong?”

She places her hand on his chest, “Oh no, mi amour, everything is fine, they haven’t even gotten to food yet.”

“Well, what’s wrong with the…” he starts as he raises his hand to knock.

Carina grabs his hand, “Don’t you dare!” she whisper-shouts, “They are in love, P. Let them be….”

Pete frowns and then raises his eyebrows with realization. “Ahh…”

Carina caresses his cheek, “Yes, I saw the look…in his eyes, but also in hers,” she looks to the side and back to Pete whispering quietly, “I think our piccolo has given her a ring, but it’s a secret.”

“Oh Car…careful, your nose with get you in trouble…” Pete warns and taps her nose with his forefinger.

“I know love when I see it, Pete.”

He smiles and wraps his arms around her, “Yes, prediletto,” he says kissing her gently. They turn and with his arm around her waist, Pete leads his bride of fifty-six years to the stairs and down.

Meanwhile, he has begun slowly thrusting while you move back on him.

You revel in the feeling of him moving inside you; the fullness of being filled by him. “Ssssoo good,” you mutter to yourself.

“Gon’ be quick, Jezebel. Take ya slow and easy later…” he warns just as he picks up the pace and the sound of his hips against your bum cheeks quietly makes its way to your ears.

It takes no time for you to cum because you never really stopped…Your ability to cum multiple times is so easy with him.

He sucks in both his lips trying to maintain some control. “Babe, don’ wanna mess up ya dress,” he says squeezing his eyes tight as his balls draw up.

You turn your head long enough to see the frustration on his face, but you realize he has a point. You do have to sit through the rest of dinner and ride back into the city with a barely-there dress on. You grab his hand on your hip and squeeze as you pull forward and he falls out. “Hold on,” you whisper as you turn around to face him. You tiptoe to give him a kiss and then slowly move down his body until you’re on your knees before him. You roll your eyes up to his and smirk as your hand encircles his hardness.

He smooths your hair, “Ya sure? Don’ hav’ ta.”

You answer by placing a kiss on his tip and take him down your throat.  He’s warm and hard but his skin is as soft as velvet. He tastes clean and earthy, and all Harry.  

His fingers fist in your hair as his head falls back on his shoulders, teeth clenched, jaw tight. His breathing picks up and you can feel his heart beat on your tongue as the blood flows through the vein on the bottom of his cock. Your free hand squeezes his thigh as he groans softly.

“Cumming…cumming,” he whispers as he looks down into your eyes. Brows pulled tight, bottom lip in his teeth, you feel the warmth of his cum run down your throat. It spurts over and over and his stance falters slightly as you swallow him down. You pop off and lick your bottom lip causing his eyes to flutter and his breath to stall. “Jesus. Christ.” He takes a moment to run his thumb along your lip then quickly buttons, zips and helps you get your feet under you. He bends down and straightens your dress down and you smooth it in front. He crouches down to catch your eyes, “Thank you, dinna hav’ ta do tha’…”

You lean into him, “I know, I wanted to. Your Jezebel, loves her little freak…but maybe I’m a little bit of a freak too.”

He pulls your chin up and kisses you deeply, “Thought of both of us on ya tongue, ya so fuckin’ perfect fo’ me.”

“I love you Harry…all of you.”

“Love ya too, Jezebel.”

“Will you plate our food while I run to the ladies room?” you say slipping into your shoes.

“‘Course.”

You excuse yourself and find a restroom just around the corner outside your dining room.

He’s just pouring the wine as you come back into the room and sit down. Your stomach rumbles at the sight of the bowl of Alfredo pasta and the hunk of garlic bread on the plate next to it. “Does this taste as good as it looks?”

He smiles as you sit down. “It’s better, Jezebel. Promise.”

You take a bite and he watches your face as your eyes roll back in your head. “Oh my god! This is amazing!” You say, taking another bite.

He laughs his breathy little laugh. “I told ya it was good.” He holds up  his wine glass. “Cheers Jezebel.”

You raise yours and clink your glass to his. “Cheers.”

You talk and giggle over dinner and just enjoy this wonderful calm before the storm of his residency gets under way.

You finish up your pasta and he sends the leftovers back down the dumbwaiter to be boxed up.

“Dessert and coffee’ll be up soon.”

“I think I’ll go to the loo real quick first,” you say kissing him quickly. You walk down the hallway and you see flashing lights and hear commotion from the window. You gasp as you look out and see the parking lot swamped with paps and fans. You jump as Carina places her hand on your elbow.

“Don’t worry, bambina. We’ll work it out,” Carina tells you.

“Has this ever happened before?”

She shakes her head no. “Not like this, no. Pete and our grandsons will take care of it.”

You sigh. “Thank you.”

“Pfft. You’re welcome, bambina,” she says, patting your arm.

You turn back to go back to Harry and see Pete standing in front of the door waiting for you. You open it and he follows you in.

He looks up in surprise at the look on your face. “Everythin’ ok?” He asks as you sit down.

“Yes, but there’s a situation.”

He drops his napkin on the table. “What’s goin’ on?” He asks looking between you and Pete.

“There’re paps and fans outside,” you say, grabbing his hand.

He hangs his head and your heart breaks a little.

“It’s ok, H. I’m sure Pete has a plan,” you say looking up at Pete.

“Uh yes, bambina. Me and my sons and grandsons will help you out of here. Carina is sending up dessert now. When you get ready to go, we will assist you,” Pete says, wringing his hands slightly.

“I’m sorry, Pete. I though’ we’d made it out of the city unfollowed.”

“It’s not your fault! You couldn’t have known piccolo!” Pete exclaims.

“Granpapa! Is he still here? Is he still here?” You hear coming from the hallway.

Two tween girls bound Into the room, eyes wide as they look to Pete and then to you and Harry.

“Luna! Valentina! You know you weren’t supposed to come up here!” Pete exclaims.

You look at Harry and smile and he smiles back.

“It’s ok, Pete. Hi girls,” he says and they gasp in pleasure and shock. He stands up and walks to where they’re standing in shock, mouths open. He’s taking to them in soothing tones and you can see them start to relax. They’re smiling and giggling and practically swooning as he leans in to hug them both.

“C’mon nipotinas! Let’s leave them to their dessert!” Pete says, ushering them out the door.

They wave shyly to you and Harry and then they’re gone and Pete closes the door.

Just then the dumbwaiter comes up. He sighs and grabs the tray and sits it on the table next to you.

You watch as he pours the coffee and sits the bowl of tiramisu in front of you, and places two spoons on the table. “You ok?” You ask him as he sits back down.

“Yeah, ‘m fine. I hate it, bu’ ‘m fine.”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry, but it’ll be fine.”

He takes a spoonful of tiramisu and smiles. “Yeah ya righ’.” But the smile doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

You do your best to distract him by feeding him and it’s mostly working. You get a genuine smile when you boop his nose. He grabs your hand and kisses the inside of your wrist. “Love ya Jezebel.”

You blush. “I love you too.”

He feeds you the last bite and then places everything back in the dumbwaiter and flips the lightswitch.

A few minutes later, Pete and Carina come in and then you all make your way to the front door. Pete opens it three inches and then quickly shuts it.

“How bad is it?” Harry asks from behind him.

“Uh, well, there are many persons out there.”

You wince at the sigh that leaves his mouth.

“Your leftovers are in the car and the driver is ready to go. We will go out first and hold them back so you and the bambina can get through to the car, capiche?” Pete says to you all.

Everyone nods and Pete and his crew go out the door. You can hear them making a path to the car.

Harry turns around and grabs your hands in his. “You can do this. I’m righ’ in front of ya. Jus’ keep holda ma hands an’ stay close ta me, yeah?”

You nod.

He kisses your forehead. “I’ve go’ ya. Gon’ be ok.”

“Oh piccolo! Bambina! I’m so happy for you both! You come to see me again soon, yes?” Carina says, kissing you both on your cheeks and opening the door.

As soon as he steps through the threshold, the flashes are so bright you can barely see and he puts his hands behind his back and you grab his hands, entwining your fingers with his.

He steps out onto the porch and everyone is screaming his name. Your fingers grip his harder as he maneuvers you down the stairs and past the circus. You’re about halfway through when a pap breaks through the men holding them back.

“Get back!” Pete yells but the pap is already in front of you and snapping pics like crazy.

You scream as you see Cal yank the pap back and then you move forward again. It feels like forever but you’re finally in the car and you snuggle up to him and bury your face in his neck. You’re shaking and tears are streaming down your cheeks. “I’m sorry, H. I thought I could handle it, but that was intense.”

“Shhhh, Jezebel. Ya ok. Shhhh…” he says pulling you closer.

You pull back and look into his eyes. “When we get home…will you take me, H? Make me yours? Please? I need to go to that place where it’s just you and me. Please?”

“I’ll give ya whatever ya need, ya know tha’.”

You slump back into him, your head in his neck. “Thank you.”

You feel yourself start to crash as the adrenaline high from the night begins to fall rapidly. The lull from the car engine, the smooth ride, Harry’s heartbeat and occasionally placed tender kiss soothes you to a light sleep. Soon, you’re lying flat on the floor with something heavy over you, a woman’s face staring at you, but you have this foreboding feeling that she isn’t well. She looks so shiny… why does she look so shiny like she’s made of plastic? And why are her eyes unmoving? Why isn’t she blinking? Her eyes look familiar…they look like the ones you see each day in the mirror. Why does this woman have your eyes and why is there darkness all around…other than…a blue blinking light? You feel like you’re being dragged away from the woman, but you don’t want to be…she needs you. You shouldn’t be leaving her! Wait! Wait! Don’t leave her. There’s a tear trickling down the side of her face from those blank eyes. “Alone…leave me…stop…stop…leave me alone!” you call out.  Then you hear someone calling for a baby? Who’s baby? Stop! Someone is grabbing your wrists.

“Baby, Babe…shh…oh baby please…it’s me! It’s Harry! Jezebel!!” he calls out holding your wrists to his chest so you stop fighting him.

“Har…ry?” you whimper shaking all over.

“Yeah, babe, it’s me, shhhh…jus’ a dream…shhh… I’m right here.”

You look down at his shirt and see it wrinkled from where you have it fisted. “Oh my god, H! I’m so sorry,” you say frantically smoothing out his shirt.  “I…I must’ve fallen asleep. Th-there was this woman,” you close your eyes and shake your head.  “Her eyes…they looked like mine. I just don’t understand…”

“Hmm…d’ya wanna talk abou’ it?”

Sitting straighter in the seat you look out the window and shake your head. “I don’t even know what there is to talk about…I don’t know why this is happening, I mean, why now?” you wonder aloud unable to meet his gaze.

“’S ok,” he says softly. “Look at me. Really. ‘S ok an’ we’re gonna figure this out, mkay?”

You turn and nod your head reluctantly.

He pulls your chin up, “Stay with me. Don’ get lost in ya head, we’re almost home.”

The car pulls into the underground parking and you make your way to the elevator fingers threaded together. Thankfully he doesn’t say a word about your sweaty palm, he just holds on tight and the reassurance is exactly what you need.

In the elevator, he kisses your temple and pulls out his phone.  “’M gonna call Jeffrey ta let ‘em ‘no abou’ tha paps tonight. Maybe they can get on top of wha’ might get posted tanight.”

You nod your head as the elevator dings and he squeezes your hand and leads you in the apartment. “Ya be alright ta go on up an’ get comfortable while I make this call real quick? I’ll be up straight away, yeah?”

You smile softly and nod your head. “Yeah, I’ll be alright.”

He leans forward, grabs your cheeks and pulls your face in to captures your lips. “I love ya. You wan’ me ta run ya a bath? Or bring ya some of that tea ya love?” he asks eyes meeting yours with concern.

You start to shake your head slowly…

“Ya sure…? I…”

“Yes, I don’t want a bath or tea. I jus…I-I just want you…to help me get lost… please?”

His eyes search yours back and forth and he sees the torment and pleading. He leans forward to kiss the tip of your nose, “Ok. Go get comfy, love, an’ I’ll be right up.”

He watches as you walk away stopping at the base of the stairs to slip your shoes off. You bend to grab them and carry them and yourself up the stairs with a deep sigh. He shakes his head and murmurs, “Fuck…”  He hates feeling so helpless. His girl needs him and in a way only he can provide. He steps to the office and presses the dial button on his phone for Jeffrey. He sums up the evening and thanks Jeffrey for getting on top of it. He’s about to turn out the lamp when he looks down and see the Boston Police department seal at the top of a stack of papers. A closer look says it’s from the Homicide Division with a date of 2001. He picks up the papers and turns them over face down. As curious as he is to know what happened, this isn’t the way to find out.  “Patience Styles…” he murmurs to himself.  He knows you’ll come to him when the time is right. He shakes his head feeling heartbroken for the story that’s haunting you…haunting you with memories you can’t even decipher. Tonight, he’ll do his best, tonight he'll do what you asked of him…he’ll help you get lost…remind you that you’ll always be able to find yourself in him.

As he makes his way up the stairs, he unbuttons his cuffs and begins to make a plan. He stops in his tracks as soon as he steps inside the bedroom doorway.  There are candles lit and there in the middle of the bed you sit, naked, on your knees, hands palm side up on your thighs, head bowed, sniffling with a old Alexander McQueen skull scarf draped across your thighs.

“Jesus, babe.”

You look up at him and your face his been scrubbed clean but he can see the tracks of tears that have run in rivulets down past your chin and on to your neck.

His shoulders slump and his jaw clenches. As much of a turn on as this is…the tears slay his insides. He walks to the edge of the bed and you simply hold your wrists out for him.

“Ya sure?”

“Yes, Harry, please…” you whisper with a final tear dripping down onto your bare chest.

He can’t help the fact that his eyes follow the tear as it slowly runs down to your hardened, crinkled nipple. Before he can even think better of it, his finger darts out to trace the wet dribble.

You close your eyes and let out a deep breath and your shoulders relax, the tension leaving your body.  

He leans forward and kisses your forehead, “I. Love. Ya. So. Much. Ya no’ alone in this…”

You nod your head to avoid a sob and although he’d rather have your words, somehow he knows you are doing your best to just hang on at the moment.

He pulls the scarf in his hands. “Wore this s’many times wrapped ‘round ma head,” he says with a chuckle, "looked kinda foolish if ‘m honest.”

“No, you looked amazing. I loved you in that scarf…that’s why I picked it.”

“Yeah?” he says wrapping it around your wrists. “Dinna think I looked like a right twat in it?”

“Harry, in your whole life, you’ve never looked like a right twat.”

He smiles as he looks at your expression relaxing. Yeah, this is exactly what she needs, he thinks to himself. A little “before” time. Before all the craziness…before the memories…Once he has the last knot tied he braces himself on his hands on either side of your thighs. “Do ya remember your safe word?”

You smile and relax that much further. Inside you feel yourself start to melt and relinquish. He has exactly what you need…to just let go.

“Rainbow.”

“Good girl…lie back fo’ me, Jezebel, an’ just let me take care of ya. Don’ hold back, wanna hear ya, feel ya, see ya…I wan’ all of ya tanight,” he says pulling your legs out straight and slightly parted on the mattress.  “D’ya need me ta tie them to the bed or can ya hold them above ya head? Yanno, nevermind, I wan’ ya tied down, all mine.”

He sees your breath catch in your throat before you release it with a long moan.

“Tha’s what ya wan’, huh, babe? You wanna be tied down fo’ me, don’ cha?”

He threads the hanging tails from the scarf around the slats of the headboard and knots them tight.

“Please, yes, please Harry,” you whimper and tug your wrists. The tighter the knot, the less you can move, the more you relax.

He leans down next to your ear, “Pull all ya wan’…give ‘em a good tug, love.  Ya not goin’ anywhere... ya mine…ta love…ta please…ta play wi’. An’ ya mine for forever. Where’s ma ring?”

You flutter you fingers from your bonds. The fact that you can only flutter them, reminds you that you can’t move causing you to gulp audibly and him to smile smugly. All this time, he’s held your eyes with his intensely, but you can’t resist rolling your head up the pillow so you can see your hands bound to the headboard.

“Tha’s right, baby, ya bound to our bed, wearin’ my ring, no body knows abou’ wha’ we do in this bed…it’s jus’ you,” he runs his forefinger down your torso from breastbone to belly button, “and me.” He reaches down to pull one knee up and out, taking a moment to kiss the sensitive skin on your knee cap. He then reaches across to push up the other knee spreading you open wide for him.

You tuck your head against your upstretched arm and look at him adoringly. “I love you Harry.”

“’No ya do, darlin’ an’ ya ‘no I love ya jus’ as much, don’ cha? Ya ‘no ya can trust me don’ cha?”

“Yes, I trust you.”

“Give me ya power, love. Lemme have control.”

You groan and your eyes flutter and roll back. Suddenly you feel a quick, startling slap to your wet core and your clit stings in response. Your eyes fly open and you suck in your bottom lip with a sharp gasp and a gulp, back arching off the mattress. Your hips flex at the sensation. “Mmmm…Harrrryyy…”

“Eyes on me, love. Ya keep ya focus on me, hear me.”

He stands back from the bed and begins to slowly undress. You’re so focused on his actions that you begin to recite the tattoos you see as you see them, “butterfly, swallows…” you swallow hard again, “ship, rose, mermaid…” you blink once, “A-Anchor....”  He begins take his rings off and you rush out, “Leave them!” His head jerks to side and he tsks. “I mean, please…leave them,” you correct yourself. He smiles and nods once as he moves on to unbutton his trousers. He slips them and his boxer briefs down when his cock pops out. You lick your lips, eyes glassy with lust. He makes no effort to hide how hard he is, in fact, he fists himself and gives a good tug and a deep groan.

“So fuckin’ sexy baby.  Make me so god damned hard…see,” he says holding his cock on display.

You whine and close and then open your knees. “Keep them open, baby,” he warns. You flex you hips up and open your knees even wider.

“I’m dripping,” you whine squirming.

“I know, Jezebel, I can see ya wet lips.” He tugs his cock, “Love it when ya this wet. Love knowin tha’ when I finally fuck ya, ‘ll be able ta hear ma wet cunt slurpin’ an’ suckin’ my cock.”

You inhale sharply and your eyes flutter, but stay open.

“Oh baby, you do love when I talk filth don’ cha.”

“God yes, H, I love how ya talk ta me in bed.”

He reaches for the duvet under you and you frown wondering what he’s up to.

“Lift up, love, wanna take the duvet off.”

You pull your brows together and his lips slide to the side. “Wan’ ya full fo’ me…want ya ta come hard for me…all over me.”

You hiccup and pull on your wrists; he smirks at your reaction. You know he’s serious when he steps just inside the en suite to grab a towel that he folds and slips under your hips. After he situates the towel, he leans over and sucks your nipple and nips the tip hard. You twist your body begging for more. He responds by kissing his way up your neck to your lips and crashing them together. He licks into your mouth and then sucks your tongue. As he pulls away you lift your head to take as much as you can for as long as you can.

“Jesus, Harry, don’t stop, I need more…please?” you beg flexing your hips up.

He settles in stretched out next to you. His hard cock laying over his thigh and the leaky tip leaving a trail of wetness along the outside of your thigh. He slides his ringed hand along your tummy back and forth and leans forward, kissing the side of your breast just under your armpit. “Fuckin’ love ya soft skin. Every inch of ya belongs ta me,” he murmurs against your skin as his lips trail kisses up and down your side while his hand circles closer and closer to your core.  

You can feel the cool metal from his rings as it runs along the sensitive skin below your belly button and just above your public line.

You raise your head and follow the line of your body to his hands. His rings and painted fingernails stroking you, just the sight is enough to have you vibrating. You flop your head back and groan.  “Rings…!” you sob out

He sucks his lips in with a groan of his own. Using his thumb he turns the pearl ring around to the inside of his palm and runs the cold hard stone in circles around your clit.

It takes you by surprise and your screech comes out rather inelegantly. Your body immediately rolls with the preamble of a intense orgasm. Not quite there, but your body spasms over and over.

“Wan’ ya ta fill up fo��� me, Jezebel, don’ cum, bu’ fill up fo’ me.” He looks deeply in your eyes, “Ya know wha’ I wan’, hmm?”

You nod shyly while his pearl continues to assault your pearl.

“Nah, no’ this time, don’ go shy on me this time, mkay? Ya safe here, ya body is amazin’ ta me. Ya know wha’ I wan’ don’cha?” You nod again and he tsks. “Say it, love.”

“You..you want me to…fl-flood.”

“Mmm…well… ‘ll take tha’,” he says kissing your breast again, “but ya an’ I both ‘no tha’ when I edge ya, I make ya squirt. An’ ya ‘no I fuckin’ love tha’…

“Jesus Harry, your mouth,” you say squirming, his dirty talk driving you crazy, “Touch me inside.”

“Like this?” he says as his middle and ring finger move to your entrance and slip in easily.

Your pelvis thrusts up involuntarily and your wrists pull on the scarf.

He curls his fingers up against the spongy patch of tissue inside the front wall of your channel.

“Hahh! Right there! Right there! Right there!” you screech out breathily.

“Our spot…So warm an’ wet.”

Your entire body is covered in goosebumps….then it happens. You reach that point of inevitability. You’re gonna cum, so things need to slow down for you to hang there on the edge. And, yeah, your mind is…gone. There’s no time or space, just need, desire, passion and, but above all, there’s love. The love intensifies every sensation. Your blood roars in your ears, your body tingles and the only thing you can concentrate on is Harry. It’s the best feeling in the world.

Your body clenches down hard on his fingers. “Jesus, baby, ya there aren’t ya?” he asks slowing down.

One corner of your mouth quirks, “Yes, go easy…oooo…Stop! Stop! Stop! Need ta breathe,” you exclaim with a smile.

“God I fuckin’ love it when ya get like this,” he says has he props up on one arm causing him to accidentally apply pressure to your g-spot.

You dig your head back into the pillow and groan, “Hahh! Don’t move…s-so close…,” you pant out trying to hold off the orgasm.

He pulls his fingers from you and circles your nipple with your juices. His cool breath tickling your nipple, just as he pulls it into his mouth.

You’re twitching and pulling at your wrists. It’s overstimulation and you’re gonna lose it if you aren’t careful.  “Untie me! Untie me! Too much…I don’t wanna cum yet!”

He pulls himself up and quickly unties his scarf from your wrists. You pull free and immediately grab his bicep.  “Ya ok, baby?”

You smile and bite your bottom lip.

“My Jezebel, ya so lost righ’ now, aren’ cha?”

“Yes, Harry,” you say nodding and reaching for his cock.

He scoots back to lean his back against the headboard. “C’mere, baby,” he says pulling you to sit in his lap facing him.  

“I’m so close,” you say stumbling your way into his lap on weak muscles. His cock is nestled against your slit and sliding up and down on your clit.

“Take a deep breath, baby,” he says grabbing both of your cheeks and pulling you in for a kiss. “I love ya, Jezebel. ‘S jus’ me an’ you,” he whispers searching your eyes.

“Just me and you,” you reply with a smile.

“Ya ready fo’ me…babe, ya ready fo’ me inside?”

Your eyes roll back…and you rest your forehead to his. To answer you lift up and reach between you to guide his hardness to your opening.

He reaches down to meet your hand, looks into your eyes and says, “Together.” You both guide him to your entrance and you slowly slide down onto him.

“Relax, love, ya clenched so tigh’ on me.”

“Can’t help it, H. I’m so close…”

Forehead to forehead he says, “Watch me…in,” he takes a deep breath in, “and out.” As you blow out, he pushes up and pulls down on your hips, seating himself deep.

You grimace at the overwhelming stimulation on extremely sensitive skin, “Oh. My. God,” you whisper bracing your hands on his shoulders.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Harry mumbles at the same time.

You slowly rock you hips, breathing deeply in an attempt to control your orgasm.

“Look,” he says looking to where you’re connected.

You lean back slightly and rest your left hand on your tummy as you peer down, your right threaded in the curls at the back of his neck.

He fingers the engagement ring on your finger, “Ya safe an’ ya mine.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and he pulls you in close by wrapping his around your waist. Together you push and pull, in and out, back and forth in a dance only you know, it’s only yours and Harry’s dance and the balloon that’s been full now is beginning to reach it’s point of no return.

“Harry, I’m gonna cum, but I don’t wanna make you a mess. I…I’m scared,” you whisper in his ear.

“Don’ be scared, Jezebel, jus cum fo’ me, jus’ fall apart in ma arms, make me a mess, please…wan’ ya cum all over me. I can feel ya flutterin’.”

You stop and try to breathe through it.

“No, don’t stop, come on…cum my love.”

“Hahh, Hahh, Hahh…” you chant as the floodgates open. That full balloon bursts and your body contracts over and over on his cock and your thighs quiver with the vibration. With every clench you feel your cum push out leaking all around his cock.

“Fuck tha’s so hot,” he says just before he drives up and holds himself still and deep.

You squeeze your arms around his neck tight, “Harry, I can feel you cumming inside me.”

He squeezes his eyes shut tight and buries his head in your neck, “Fuckfuckfuckfuck…”

He’s breathing heavily but takes time to reassure you, “So good, Jezebel, feels so good when ya cum like tha’. So amazing. Love tha way we fuck.”

Although the temptation to hide, to fight the rawness and vulnerability that comes when you cum that hard, is there…you fight it. This is a safe place and Harry loves you…and he’s gonna love you for forever. You clutch him tighter, bury your face in his neck deeper, panting a little slower.  

“Ya ok?” he asks running his hands up and down your back and kissing your shoulder. You simply nod against his shoulder and you feel him grin against the skin. “Doin’ so good, love. Look at me.”

You reluctantly pull back and rest your forehead to his, “I love you, H.”

“Oh baby, love ya so much. How abou’ I run us a bath?” he says kissing your cheeks.

“Sounds nice,” you whisper, “Thank you.”

He searches your eyes, “What fo’?”

“For taking care of me, for reminding me I’m not alone and that I belong.”

“Aw, swee’heart, ya DO belong. An’ this family,” he circles his finger between the two of you, “this family tha’ you an’ me are making will always be a part of ya.”

“I think it’s time for me to tell you what happened with my parents…or, at least what I know from the police report because that’s all I seem to be able to remember,” you say carding your hands through the hair on the side of his head. “I’m pretty sure these nightmares or dreams, or whatever it is that is going on in my brain, have something to do with what happened that day…but I don’t know,” you say shrugging. “I want you to know it’s not that I’ve kept it away from you on purpose, I’ve just not wanted to talk about it, because, honestly, I thought it would just remain a story from my past that didn’t really affect my future, but I was naïve and wrong. I’m sorry if I unintentionally shut you out. Most people don’t know. Hell, I barely know because the Boston PD barely worked the case.”

He smiles reassuringly and kisses your lips softly.  “Thank ya fo’ trustin’ me, I trusted tha’ you’d come around when ya were ready. How abou’ I fix us a warm bath an’ we can talk?”

You smile. “Yes, I’d like that.”

He kisses your nose and you move off of him and lay down, closing your eyes and he clambers off of the bed and into the en suite.

It feels good to give over the power to him and just belong to him as he sees you and you sigh.

He comes back in and gently touches your back. “Ya ok?”

You roll your head to meet his and nod.

He bends and picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bath tub, puts you down and helps you into the tub.

You scooch up and he steps in and sits behind you, pulling you to him.

You sigh and relax back into him, your hands covering his on your tummy. You lay your head back on his shoulder and sigh again, closing your eyes.

He pulls up your hands and places his hands between his, his fingers circling your engagement ring.

You smile at his fascination with your ring. “My parents owned a shop with jewelry and antiques. I spent time with them there on Friday nights because we closed early and we always went out after, just the three of us.”

He smiles and kisses your neck.

“According to the police report, it wasn’t a typical B&E because there’s no sign of forced entry.”

“So ya parents knew who the perpetrators were,” he fills in for you.

You nod. “Yes, that’s the theory. The police report says that my dad must’ve been led back to the safe and once they found what they wanted, they shot him. My mum was strangled with a plastic bag and was found on the floor. I was under the couch where I must have hid and then after three hours, I ran outside and someone found me and called the police,” you finish up.

Harry squeezes you tighter to him and kisses your neck. “Oh ma sweet Jezebel, ‘m so so sorry.”

You sigh. “Thank you. I just…I want to remember or forget. I hate this in between.”

“I know, baby, I know. Ya’ll get there. I’m s’sorry an’ I hate tha’ ya went through tha’, bu’ it brought ya ta England an’ ta me.”

You turn around and look him in the eyes, smiling. “You’re my silver lining, Harry. Everything I’ve been through led me to you and I can’t be sorry about that. I won’t. Ever.”

He places his hands on your cheeks and pulls you to him for a series of soft open mouthed kisses. “Ya were made fo’ me an’ I love ya very much.”