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miryum · 23 days

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"The Crime Scene"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy’s relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

Y/n stood by an apartment door that was blocked off by police tape, scrolling through her pictures. She and Jason had officially been dating for three weeks, and in her opinion, it was going great. Two nights ago they had another date which consisted of going to the State Fair. Y/n had insisted that they get the famous cookies (“They’re a staple of the fair, Jaybird! It wouldn’t be the State Fair without diabetes!”), ride the giant slide (“Darling, I’m an adult male with a full-time job. As much as I wanna make you happy, I’m not riding- oh my god, oh my god … Okay, can we go again?”), and go on the skyride. The day had ended with a camera roll full of Jason and Y/n pictures, Y/n’s favourite being Jason going through the children’s faux farm where kids had to collect small packages and do chores akin to farming. They followed a dirt path and collected plastic apples, packets of corn, and swaths of real sheep wool. At the end, they cashed it all in for an ice cream sandwich. Luckily, Y/n had been able to snag a picture of Jason in a tiny apron and holding a wicker basket. His mouth was downturned, but he waited patiently in line for his promised ice cream sandwich.

“Hey. Sorry I'm late,” Cass said and Y/n looked up. “The coffee guy was…”

Y/n choked on her spit. “Assaulting your head? What is going on up there?” She referenced Cass’ hairstyle. Instead of her loose pixie-cut, Cass’ hair was ironed straight in a tight bob.

“Is it bad?” Cass grimaced.

“Before I answer that question,” Y/n said, “do you currently have a knife on you?”

“Yes, several.”

“Then I love it.” Y/n gave her a thumbs up. “It really... I mean, it’s hair. You look like Edna from The Incredibles. I'm sorry, don't stab me.” She shielded her face with her arms.

“My girlfriend, Harper, is going through beauty school. This week they’re doing hairstyles,” Cass explained. “She’s practising on me.”

“You’re still with Harper?!” Y/n giggled. “Geez, I love her! Uh, don’t take this the wrong way, but… is she passing?”

“Honestly, I don't know.”

“Well, let's get into this murder.” Y/n rubbed her hands together gleefully. “I'm hoping it's a dope one.” She flung open the door and ducked under the police tape. When she saw the apartment, she froze and her eyes widened in appreciation. “Mamma Mia. That's a bloody pizza pie.” She was referring to the scene before her, the floor smeared with blood in long lines, evidence markers covering every other metre, and the photographer was just finishing up.

“Detectives,” a detective named Al Kelly greeted them. “The Roomba was running when we got here. It smeared blood across the entire apartment.”

Cass smirked and turned to Y/n. “Is this dope enough for you?”

“It's a bloody robot, Cain.” Y/n grinned. “It's clearly a good start, but it's gonna take more than that to be certified as totally dope. Who's the victim?”

“Name is Steven Carlyle,” Kelly said.

Y/n hummed and shook her head. “Kind of a boring name. Not super dope.”

“He was a psychologist,” Kelly continued.

“Okay, a sharp turn away from dopeness, but who found the body?”

“His boss called the cops when he didn't show up to work, so he was found by Officer Fields.”

“Officer Fields?” Y/n whined. “You are seriously undoping this. Do you have anything else for me? Al?”

“The apartment was locked from the inside?” Kelly offered, wondering what Y/n wanted to hear.

“Mysterious. Dope,” Y/n nodded along.

“The alarm system was still armed.”

“Dope, dope, dope, dope. So hard to solve.” Y/n’s mouth dropped open appreciatively.

Cass asked, “any surveillance cameras?”

“Oh, yeah. Tons of them, but we checked them. No one was seen going in or out. Whoever did this was a ghost.” Al handed Cass a case file and she started flitting through it.

“Yes!” Y/n exclaimed. “A ghost! I officially declare this case ‘dope!’” She turned towards the apartment. “I love the first walkthrough of a crime scene. It's kind of like arriving at summer camp, except the lake is full of blood and your bunk mate is dead.” She paused before ambling through the room. “I think I may be bad at metaphors.”

Cass held up an interview transcript. “So after Carlyle comes home from work, the only person who even approaches his doorway is a delivery guy?”

“Yeah, but he never enters the apartment.”

Y/n gasped and pointed to an evidence marker. “Hey, Cass. Check it out. Triple digies!” The evidence marker displayed one-hundred and eighteen. “There's so much evidence, we hit triple digies!”

“Cool,” Cass commented.

“Very cool indeed,” Y/n agreed. “But you know what's not cool? Carlyle ordered his dinner from House of Lettuce. There's no way this guy knew he was gonna die! No one would want lettuce as their last meal. For example, my last meal... is gonna be any candy I get my hands on,” she shoved her hands in her pockets and extracted a pack of M&Ms.

“You just keep those in your pocket?” Cass pushed back a smile.

“We face death every day,” Y/n pointed out. “I gotta be prepared to go out on my own terms.”

“I can't even think about eating,” Cass gagged. “It smells like Tim’s armpits after he’s refused to go home for four days and is running on coffee.”

“When have you smelled Tim’s armpits…” Y/n trailed off.

A heavy set man with a thick moustache saddled up to them and said, “that's the heat wave. It speeds up the body decomp. I guess you could say this mystery is straight outta decomp......ton.”

“No.” Y/n rejected the attempted pun. “Who are you?”

“Angel Rojas. I'm running CSI and forensics.” The man took a sip of his coffee.

“If the heat is causing the smell, why don't we just turn on the air conditioning?” Y/n asked.

Rojas shook his head immediately. “That kind of air flow is gonna kick up all kinds of dust particles. That AC stays off, which means the odour in here? Only gonna get worse.” He dug a small clip out of his pocket and shoved it on his nose. “Pro tip: plug your noses. Had this bad boy custom-made to fit these sweet nosters.”

“Are you trying to abbreviate ‘nostrils’?” Y/n stared at Rojas, completely bamboozled.

“In CSI, we don't try. We do, son.”

“Son? I mean, transgender people are great, but that’s not how I identify, thank you very much.” She shot Rojas a pair of finger guns before saying, “well, it's been sort of okay meeting you. We're gonna turn our backs and ignore you now.” She and Cass loyally turned their backs.

“Hey, Y/n/n,” Cass smirked. “You know what it's time for?”

“I sure do! Y/n and Cass’ first impressions!”

Cass pointed to blood patterns on the wall. “Cast-off pattern on the far wall suggests upward knife slices. Y/n?”

Y/n knelt down next to Carlyle’s body. “Wounds on the vic's back means he didn't see the killer coming. Oof. Cass, my dearest?”

Cass shook her head and continued, “laptop, wallet, keys all in plain sight. No sign of forced entry. Doesn't connote a robbery. L/n?”

“But it does connote that our killer was waiting for Carlyle in the apartment.” She hesitated and asked, “did I just use the word ‘connote’ correctly?”

“You did.”

Y/n grinned. “Great. I’m just super smart. Please text Tim and tell him to suck it and that I am amazing and he should love me. Also, tell Jason that I’m the smarter one in the relationship and that even though he reads all the time, I am superior.”

“I’m not doing that.”

A voice frantically cried from the hallway, “I'm his mother! Let me in!”

Y/n grimaced and her jaw tensed. “Rock-paper-scissors for who has to talk to the vic's mom.”

“Deal.” The pair slammed their fists into their open palms and Y/n glared at Cass as the former held up paper and Cass showed two fingers to indicate scissors.

“It's a game of chance. How the hell do you always win?” Y/n groaned loudly.

“You always pick paper,” Cass said.

“That is not true,” Y/n scoffed. “Here, go again.” Y/n flattened her palm as paper and Cass held up scissors. “One more time. Alright, one more time. One more time. One more time. One more time.” Y/n kept holding up paper and Cass easily beat her every time with scissors. “Alright, one more time. One more time. God, this reverse psychology is a bust!” Y/n sighed and stepped outside to the hallway. “Ma'am?” she found Carlyle’s mother and smiled softly. “I'm Detective L/n. This is Detective Cain. I'm so sorry for your loss.”

“Please tell me whatever you can. Nobody will tell me anything,” Carlyle’s mother, Amy, begged.

“I really wish that I could, but we're just starting our investigation,” Y/n explained. “Now, is there anyone you can think of that would want to hurt your son?”

“No! Everybody loved Stevie. I don't know why this happened! Please, you have to find who did this.”

“We're doing everything we can,” Y/n reassured her.

“Promise me,” Amy pleaded slowly, staring helplessly at Y/n, “you'll find who did this.”

Cass stepped in and frowned, “ma'am, we can't promise-”

“Promise me!” Amy placed a hand on Y/n’s forearm and tears started forming in her eyes. “Stevie was my whole world. I'm a single mom… or, was a single mom.” She sniffed and wiped at her eyes.

Y/n took a breath and nodded. “I promise you.”

Cass falsely grinned at Amy, who was thanking Y/n profusely, and shoved Y/n back into the rotting apartment. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you?”

“Um, exsqueeze me?” Y/n crossed her arms, offended.

“Did you really just full-on promise a victim's family member we would solve a crime? You broke the number one rule of dealing with a victim's family member. What were you thinking?”

Y/n shrugged and muttered, “I don't know. She reminded me of my mom, okay? A single mother crying in the hallway? Those are some of my frequent childhood memories.”

Cass sighed and rubbed her temples, speaking more softly, “dude, you never make a promise, because if we don't solve this, you've given her false hope, and that is way worse.”

“Normally, I would totally agree with you, but we're going to solve this case. We have so much evidence. We hit triple digies! We'll interview his friends, neighbours, and coworkers. Come on. We got this!”

“Alright, fine. But you have to deal with her if we can’t solve it.”

“Okay.”

“My goodness.” Y/n placed a hand over her heart and raised her brows in Cass’ direction. “Did Mother Gothel finally let you out of the tower?”

Cass’s hair had been lengthened significantly by hair extensions that fell down to her waist. “What?” Cass squinted at her.

“It was a Tangled burn,” Y/n explained. “Jason and I had a Disney marathon last weekend.”

“Cool, but no. Harper’s learning how to weave in hair extensions. Anyway, I talked to the neighbours. Our vic had a party three nights before the murder. I talked to everyone on the guest list. They all have alibis, so I got nothing. How did your interviews go?”

Y/n sucked in a harsh breath. “Not great. I talked to his coworkers, friends, and family. No one had a motive. Everyone loved him. The dumb jerk. RIP,” she added quickly, waving a hand around in a bad rendition of crossing herself.

“Did you promise any of them that you'd find the killer?” Cass asked, glaring at Y/n.

Y/n stared at Cass for a tense moment before admitting, “yes, his aunt. She also reminded me of my mom. Her name was Y/m/n!”

“Y/n!” Cass reprimanded.

“Look, it's gonna be fine. This apartment is full of forensic evidence! There is no way that CSI hasn't found something. I have never been more confident in my entire-” she threw open the door and groaned as the smell immediately blasted her. “I can taste the smell. Ugh. You shouldn't be able to taste smells.”

“That's the heat cookin' the blood rot right out of the floorboards.” Rojas sauntered up to them. “Set scent to simmer. Serve over rice.”

Cass gazed uncomfortably at him before saying, “just so you know, Rojas, we're not responding positively to you as a person. Maybe just give us an update on the labs.”

“Copy that. The victim was stabbed 30 times. Coroner puts the time of death between six p.m. and seven-thirty p.m. Sunday night.”

“Okay, and how many DNA matches did you find?” Y/n asked.

“None.”

“What about hair?”

“None.”

“Fingerprints?”

“None,” Rojas repeated. “I have no matches of anything on any criminal databases whatsoever.”

Cass turned to Y/n. “Still feeling good about your promise, L/n?”

“Still feeling good about that haircut, Cousin It? I’m sorry, I’m a little frustrated right now but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I love you, Cass.” Y/n took a breath after her quick speech and said, “Rojas, how did you guys not find anything? You had fifteen people in here.”

“First of all, you sound so ignorant right now. I had fourteen guys here.” He scoffed. ”Like I'd ever get approval for fifteen guys. That's insane. Second of all, don't worry, we found something good. We tested the blood. This blood splatter belongs to the victim, this to a second individual, and that to a third.”

“Oh, hells, yes. We might have some perp blood in here. This is huge! Cass, we’re gonna solve this case!” She high-fived Cass and a couple mornings later, she stood outside the apartment, and greeted her friend, “ah, good morning, Prince Harry.” Cass’ hair was a brilliant, stark red.

“You seem particularly chipper this morning,” Cass remarked.

”Indeed I am,” Y/n agreed. “Because I finally tracked down the guy who delivered our vic his final meal and, in so doing, maybe saw the other two guys who bled all over this apartment.”

“We don't know there were three people in the apartment,” Cass reminded her friend.

“Delivery guy,” a cop introduced Y/n and Cass to a young, thin man dressed in a work uniform.

“Hello, sir,” Y/n smiled kindly and shook the delivery boy’s hand. ”We'd like to ask you a couple of questions.”

The delivery boy, who must’ve been no older than twenty-five, looked around at all the uniforms and equipment there. He nervously admitted, “okay, look, I ate a couple fries out of the bag, but everybody does that.”

Y/n shook her head, fingers tucked in belt loops. “That's not why you're here.”

“Oh, shit,” Max, the delivery boy, looked petrified. “Is this about weed?” he asked quietly, like it was a secret.

Y/n’s brows shot up and asked, “should it be?”

“No?”

“You delivered food to the guy in this apartment at six-forty p.m. on Sunday,” Cass cut in. “And within the hour, he was murdered.”

“What? How? That's horrible!” Max cried.

“Did you see anything suspicious?”

“No,” Max said. “But I didn't go inside. The guy came to the door. I just gave him the food.”

“And did you see or hear anyone else in the apartment?” Y/n crossed her arms.

“No, just that one guy. He ordered, uh, three beetroot zucchini wraps,” Max stuttered.

Y/n grimaced dramatically. “Three disgusting wraps. Three disgusting bloodstains. I knew it. There were three people in there.”

Cass stepped forward. “Would you be willing to go inside and let us know if anything looks different to you?”

“Yeah. Sure, that's fine. I don't care,” Max agreed as Y/n began to open the apartment door. Max stepped in and took one look around before screaming out, “why would you show this to me? Oh, I'm too high to see this.” He gagged and his eyes fell on the fishbowl which had bloodstains on the glass. “There's blood on the fish! On the fish!”

Y/n turned to Cass and said quietly, “I always forget how weirdly numb to horrific things we are. Do you think it affects the relationships we build with others?”

“Oh, for sure,” Cass agreed, nodding stoically as Max continued wailing.

“Oh.”

Cass placed a hand on Max’s back, who was currently bent over, retching up air. “You must have seen something. You delivered the food at six-forty, and sometime before seven-thirty, Carlyle was stabbed to death.”

“Stop saying ‘stabbed!’” Max pleaded. “What I saw here forever changed me. My heart is still pounding!”

“Wait. Carlyle was wearing a smartwatch, right?” Y/n asked, whirling around to the evidence marker that stood by Carlyle’s phone. “Those things track your heart rate. If we look at his phone, we can see the exact moment his heart stopped beating. Here we go.” She opened the phone. “Activities app. And... boom! His heart rate dropped to zero at exactly six-oh-three.”

Cass’ brows furrowed and she muttered, “the food wasn't even ordered until six-sixteen, which means…”

Both detectives exclaimed, “the killer ordered the food!”

Max, who was sitting in fetal position, yelled out, “oh, god. Did I talk to a murderer?!”

“Y/n,” Cass ignored Max. “This guy saw the perp. We have to get him in front of a sketch artist.”

“Oh, yeah. I'm feeling it now, Cass.” She bounced up on the balls of her feet. “At this time tomorrow, we're gonna know exactly what our killer looks like!”

“We have no idea what our killer looks like,” Cass said the following day, bags under eyes.

“Well, that's not totally true.” Y/n shuffled through sketch renderings. “We now know that the killer might look like Sebastian Stan, Winona Ryder, or Bilbo Baggins.”

“The delivery guy kept starting over. Apparently, he's always high.” She shook her head. “I'm sorry, man. Our big break turned into nothing.”

A voice sounded from the end of the hallway. “Detectives,” Captain Wayne strode up to them, cap under his arm.

“Ah! Captain,” Y/n plastered a grin on her face. “Did you come down here to take a look at the two best detectives you've ever worked with in action?”

“The two best detectives I've ever worked with are Prince and Pennyworth,” Wayne said immediately.

“Oh.” Y/n nodded once and stared at Wayne. “You never mentioned them before.”

“They were excellent,” Wayne replied. “I'm here because Major Crimes wants the case. I was hoping to tell them you have some leads. I overheard you mention a Bill Bo-Baggins. Should we bring him in?”

Y/n stifled a chuckle. “Well, as much as I would love to meet him, he is not a suspect.”

“Okay, so who is?”

Y/n swallowed and said, “at this time? No one. But... we are currently investigating no leads.” She drew her lips in and waited for the disappointment.

“So you have nothing,” Wayne restated.

Cass glared at Y/n. “Not nothing. L/n made a new best friend. The vic's mom. She promised her she'd solve the case.”

Wayne pursed his lips. “That's a rookie mistake.”

Y/n held up her hands defensively. “Okay. Fine. Maybe I'm not Pierce and Pennyweather.”

“Prince and Pennyworth,” Wayne corrected. “And they would've remembered your name after one mention.”

“Because we're memorable, and they're not.” Y/n held up a hand to Cass for a high-five. “Turned it around.” Cass shook her head and Y/n dropped her hand, continuing, “alright, look, Captain. Cain and I are gonna solve this case. The answer is in this room.” She gestured around to the bloody apartment. “We just have to focus and let the room speak to us.” She shouted out to the open house, “isn't that right, room?”

“When you talk to the room,” Wayne deadpanned, “I lose even more confidence in you.”

“Why?” Y/n shrugged then turned to beg her Capitan, “can you please just buy us some more time? Sir, I feel like we've earned this.”

Wayne sighed heavily and conceded, “work fast.”

Y/n shot him a thumbs up and beamed. “Got it.” She turned back to the apartment and rubbed her hands together. She said to Cass, “okay. Let's look at the scene like we're seeing it for the first time with fresh eyes.” She jumped to the floor, next to where Carlyle’s body used to lay. “Vic was face down.”

Cass stood in the kitchen, analysing the blood on the wall. “Cast-off splatter suggests upward knife slices.”

“No signs of forced entry. Laptop, wallet, keys were all there,” Y/n said, staring at the desk where all the items lay.

“Doesn't connote a robbery,” Cass finished.

“Wait a minute. Have we said this already?” Y/n looked around. “Are we having the exact same conversation?”

“Yep.”

“Cool.” Y/n’s jaw twitched. “Moving on. Windows and doors locked from the inside. Nobody in or out.” She pressed her fingertips to her temples. “Think, think, think... oh!” She snapped her fingers and her head whipped upward to focus on the ceiling. “The upstairs neighbour and his best friend drilled through the ceiling, murdered Carlyle, bled all over the apartment, then climbed back up and sealed the hole behind them!”

Rojas spoke up from behind them. “Negative, we would have found construction debris and microscopic paint fibres. The only thing that needs patching... is that theory.”

Y/n waved him away. “Okay. New idea. We're gonna get inside the mind of the killer. We eat the veggie wraps!” She opened the days old food container and unwrapped the veggie wraps. A shiver ran up her spine as she took in the disgusting looking food. “Here we go,” she hesitantly took a bite of the wrap and immediately gagged. “Oh, this sick bastard,” she groaned. “Oh, man. This is one twisted motherfucker. Oh, the beets are raw. This guy is demented, Cass!” She harshly swallowed down the food before throwing away the rest of the veggie wrap, glaring at it. “How can someone stomach that…?”

A week later, Y/n stood in the middle of the room and held her arms out wide.“Okay. All we have to do is figure out what kind of person can walk by cameras without being seen. Someone camouflaged as a wall.” She glanced around, squinting at the walls, as if she could find the person.

“Unlikely,” Cass said.

“Harry Potter and his invisibility cloak,” Y/n said proudly.

Cass pointed out, “Not a real person.”

“Well, uh, how do you know, Cain? Have you searched all of Britain for a magical castle? I didn’t think so.”

A couple days later, Y/n sat on the kitchen counter, legs crossed and wearing a tank top and pyjama shorts. She suddenly gasped loudly and waved her hands around. “My god, Cain, come here. Look at the blood spatter. Do you see what I see?”

Cass walked over from the bedroom and wondered, “Uh, blood?”

“I think I just made a connection,” Y/n said. “The number three is everywhere. Three people. Three types of blood. And guess what the tax was on the veggie wraps? Three dollars and nineteen cents, but if you ignore the nineteen, then it's three!” she cried out.

Cass shook her head. “Okay. You've officially lost your mind.”

Y/n jumped off the counter and hissed, “what? Who told you that? Was it room?”

“No. It's the fact that you think the room has a voice and also you're working in your PJs!”

“To beat the heat, Cass!” Y/n shouted. “To beat the heat! If we can't turn on the AC, this isn’t crazy, it's just smart.”

Cass took a deep breath and said quietly, “Y/n, I gave the case to Major Crimes.”

“What?” Y/n’s lips parted in disbelief. “Cass, y-you can't do that. I promised Amy.”

“Yeah, and now you can't let it go,” Cass argued. She opened the apartment door and a group of men in uniforms and windbreakers entered. “The scene's yours, guys. I'm sorry, Y/n/n,” she said softly. “It's over.”

Y/n scoffed and marched out. “Okay, fine! I'll leave. Come on, room!” she called out to the apartment.

“You left your pants,” Cass said loudly.

“I don't care!” Y/n shouted back.

Cass slid into the briefing room, noticing Y/n who was crouched on the floor. “Hey, Y/n?”

Y/n popped up and gasped. “Ah! Hello, Cassandra, my coworker and dearest friend.”

Cass shoved her hands into her pockets. “Look, I know you're mad at me, but I only gave away that case to help you. You were acting like a lunatic.”

Y/n placed a bottle of ketchup on one of the tables. “Don't even worry about it. You were totally right. I was in too deep, and honestly, I feel so free not having to work that case anymore, so thank you.” She didn’t know what to do, so she gave Cass an awkward little bow.

Cass smiled, relieved. “Cool, you're welcome. Uh, what's up with all the ketchup?”

“It's, um… for my hot dog.” Y/n nodded slowly. She began to push Cass out of the room. “Anyways, this has been a great chat, but I better get back to my hot dog.”

Cass frowned and pushed past her and froze at the sight of Stephanie who was laying on the floor, covered in ketchup. “Oh, wow.” Cass said slowly, eyes wide.

“There's nothing crazy about this, sister,” Y/n said. “It's the crime scene!” She pointed to the differently arranged tables in the briefing room. “There’s the stove, the kitchen island, blood,” she splattered some more ketchup on a table. “And of course, the body,” she flourished towards Steph.

“Hi, Cass!” Steph waved at her friend. “I'm the body.”

“You gave away my case, but guess what?” She let out a ‘boo-yah’ and held up two fingers. “I spent two months in that apartment. I can recreate it in my sleep.”

“Have you slept?” Cass crossed her arms.

“No,” Y/n said.

Dick walked into the room and looked around, shocked at the mess. “What the hell is going on here?!”

“Y/n’s gone insane because she promised the victim's mom she'd solve her son's murder,” Cass explained.

Dick placed his hands on his hips, disappointed. “Seriously? You never promise a victim's relative anything.” He took a breath and commanded, “clean it up and get out. You've lost your mind,” he decided.

“That's not true!” Y/n retorted. “I'm solving this.”

“Hey, sweetheart?” Jason placed a comforting hand on Y/n’s back. He had gotten a concerning text from Cass that had persuaded Jason to stop by Y/n’s apartment during his lunch break. He had originally knocked on the door, but when she didn’t answer, he had used the key she gave him for emergencies.

Y/n jumped at the contact and whirled around, eyes bloodshot and the bags under her eyes were darker than ever. “Jason? When did you get here?” Before her sat the blueprints of Carlyle’s apartment.

Jason’s eyes widened at her appearance before his expression softened sadly. “Oh, darling, how much sleep have you gotten?”

“Uh… when was Monday?”

“Four days ago,” Jason answered gently. “Come on,” he gently helped her out of her chair and led her to the bedroom. “Can we get some rest?” Y/n nodded reluctantly and allowed him to tuck her into bed. “I’m just gonna stay here to make sure you get sleep well,” Jason whispered.

“Okay…” Y/n soon fell asleep, a small smile tugging on Jason’s lips. He returned to Y/n’s living room and sat down on the couch, turning the TV on, making sure the volume was low so as to not disturb her.

However, an hour or so later, Jason heard some rustling from Y/n’s room. Worried, he crept to Y/n’s room and peered in. When he saw what his girlfriend was doing, he sighed heavily. “Y/n, my darling, please go to sleep.”

Y/n was using the blueprints as a blanket, reading over them intently, eyes blurry and exhausted. “Never,” she muttered. Jason took the blueprints away from her before typing a text message on his phone.

That afternoon, Cass stopped by Y/n’s apartment. She was greeted by Jason who led her inside and motioned to the bathroom. Y/n was sitting in the tub, cuddled in a blanket, and muttering to herself. Cass sighed and knelt down next to the bathtub. “L/n,” she said. “So, I can see how much this case means to you. I was thinking that maybe I could help you solve it.”

Y/n glanced up and the blanket fell off her shoulders. Jason came up behind her and rewrapped the blanket around her. “Really?” she asked. “But I thought Major Crimes just labelled it a cold case.”

“They did,” Cass confirmed. “But clearly, you’re not gonna let it go. And hey, if they’re out of the way, then we can take all the credit ourselves.” She smirked loosely and Y/n beamed.

The detective leapt out of the bath and wrapped her arms around her friend. “Thank you, Cass!”

The following afternoon, Y/n and Cass arrived at Carlyle’s apartment. “That's weird,” Cass hummed. “The police tape's already gone.”

“Oh, yeah, Major Crimes released the scene yesterday.” The pair walked into the apartment as Y/n said, “but I'm sure they haven't had time to clean up the evidence…” she trailed off, looking at the perfectly spotless rooms.

“Oh, shit, they emptied the place out.” Cass said. “Nothing left in here. I can't believe this is how it ends.”

“Yeah. Is it weird that I miss the smell?” Y/n’s lips turned up in a reminiscing smile. “Wait a minute, do you hear that?” Her head tilted to the side as she tried to figure out if the soft humming noise was coming from the apartment, or if she really was crazy and it was all in her head. “I've spent six hundred hours in this room, and I have never heard that sound.”

“It's because the air conditioning's never been turned on. It's coming from that vent,” Cass pointed to a large vent in the wall.

Y/n immediately took out a swiss army knife and unscrewed the bolts. She faithfully got down on her hands and knees and crawled into the huge vent. “I don't see anything,” she called back to Cass. “Wait, there's a bend. Oh, my god.” She came across a pack of plastic water bottles and some empty chip bags. “There's food and water in here!”

Half an hour later, Cass and Y/n stood in the precinct, Cass’ laptop propped open in front of them. Cass said, “we never saw the killer leave this apartment because he never left. But he couldn't have survived in there for months. That's insane.”

“He wasn't back there for months,” Y/n explained. “He just waited for the body to be discovered and then snuck out sometime after that.”

“But this place was crawling with cops.”

“Which is exactly what he wanted,” Y/n scratched at her nose. “He snuck out dressed like a cop.”

“Even if he had a uniform, somebody would've recognized him,” Cass said, thinking logically. In order for them to figure this case out, there couldn’t be any holes in the story.

“Not if his face was covered.”

“By a Hazmat suit!” Cass’ mouth fell open. “The CSI guys! Rojas said he had fourteen techs, but didn't you count fifteen?”

“I did count fifteen!” Y/n exclaimed loudly. “My maths was right! Suck it, Mrs. Wilson! She was my Algebra two teacher. She was actually very sweet. She believed in me.” Cass shot her a look and Y/n remembered, “oh. Yeah. Here's the security footage. Play the tape.” Cass pressed play and Y/n narrated along to the video, “okay, so there's us arriving. Alright…. Wait. Go back.” She pointed to the one guy on the screen. “Look at this guy. All the other techs are wearing their little booties, but he's not. Follow that guy.”

“Where's the footage from the grocery across the street?” Cass muttered to herself, pulling up the camera logs.

“We have that?” Y/n asked, astonished. “That is so crazy. We’re under surveillance at all times. I'm sure it's fine and it won't backfire and ruin society.” She shook her head, ridding herself of the thoughts. “Zoom in on his face. Hm… that man isn’t CSI. But he is about to say… CS-bye.” She grinned at her pun and announced, “okay, Cass. You know what it's time for!”

The friends high-fived each other and said, “Cass and Y/n’s final impressions!”

“The dude’s a hit man. He snuck into the apartment during the party several nights earlier, hid in the vent for three days, then emerged and murdered Carlyle. Y/n?”

Y/n took over and added, “he then spilled bags of blood that he stole from a blood bank all over the floor and turned on the victim's Roomba to make the crime scene as messy as possible. Cass?”

“The messy scene meant there'd be extra crime techs, allowing the perp to sneak out in a Hazmat suit, which records show he bought online. Two weeks before the crime was committed. My only question, who was behind all this?”

Two days later, a man by the name of Warren Lawford (“Really? That’s the most ironic name ever!”) sat in the interrogation room and said, “I was hired by a depressed grocer.”

“Wow.” Y/n muttered. “Dopeness taking a late hit here, but we still got you! See you at the sentencing, peace, and we're out!” She held up a peace sign before she and Cass swept out of the room, looking smug.

Amy waited for them outside, face contorting into relief when Cass explained that Lawford was pleading guilty. “Oh, thank god. But why did he kill Stevie? Was he doing something bad?”

“Not at all,” Y/n reassured her. “Steve dropped one of his clients that was too emotionally attached to him and the client went kinda crazy and issued a hit on him.”

“Well, is anybody going after him?”

“If they're not, then I will. I promise you,” Y/n said softly.

Amy’s eyes filled with tears and she spread her arms open. “Come here,” she sniffed, wrapping Y/n in a big hug, electing a squeak from the detective.

“Why are you promising her?” Cass mouthed to Y/n from out of Amy’s line of sight.

“I can't help myself!” Y/n whispered harshly.

“Goodbye, detectives,” Amy grinned before exiting the precinct.

“Take care,” Y/n called after the woman.

“I gotta say,” Cass huffed a chuckle. “We would not have solved that case if you hadn't gotten involved emotionally.”

“Think we'd be better cops if we did that all the time?” Y/n asked.

“Absolutely not, never again.”

“Yeah, it was a total nightmare.”

#title of your sex tape #jason todd x reader #jason todd #dc x reader #dcu #b99 #b99/dcu #slow burn

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slyandthefamilybook · 5 months

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Once there was a boy who was a shepherd. He kept watch over a small flock of sheep in a pasture at the edge of town. He loved his sheep. He had been born to a shepherd from a family of shepherds, and had so grown up amongst his flock. He knew all of the sheep by name and would great them one-by-one each morning. "Hello Dolly," he would say. "Hello Steven and hello Betty."

Now these sheep were undoubtedly useful: the townspeople would eat their meat and weave their wool and gnaw on their bones as they worked the fields. But these sheep were also alive. They had a glittering intelligence in their black eyes, and they would commune every so often to discuss the harvest, and the shepherd boy, and the townspeople. The sheep loved the shepherd boy and they loved the town and the townspeople, and the people loved them back. They were good sheep.

Now one day the shepherd boy overheard one of the townspeople talking about his flock. The man said he thought the sheep were ugly, and that they smelled bad. This upset the shepherd boy, because he loved his sheep, and he thought the people loved his sheep as well. The shepherd boy, being no more than 12 years old at the time, wanted to remind the people of how much his sheep mattered to them. So one night as the moon hid behind the clouds the shepherd boy stood on a stone in his pasture and cried out: "Help! Help! A wolf!"

Out came a crowd of people, blinking the sleep from their eyes and carrying torches and pitchforks and shovels and ladels. They stood in the pasture and looked about, but they could see no wolf. The townspeople became angry and shook their fists at the shepherd boy. "This is a serious matter!" they cried. The shepherd boy had to admit that his ploy was juvenile, but he was still a child, and so the people forgave him. And they continued to love the shepherd boy and his sheep, and the shepherd boy and his sheep loved them back, for the townspeople had proved that night how much they cared.

Five years later, when the shepherd boy was now a teen, he stood amongst his flock in the pasture and he said "good night, Dolly. Good night, Steven and good night, Betty." But as the clouds passed over the moon the shepherd teen saw a shape in the distance, and out of fear for his flock he cried out: "Help! Help! A wolf!"

Again came the great crashing crowd with their knives and their swords and axes and bows. They stood in the pasture and looked about, but they could see no wolf. The townspeople once again became angry, and they shook their fists at the shepherd teen. "This is a serious matter!" they cried. "We love you and we love your sheep, but you must learn to not be so frightened!" With great grumbling the townspeople returned to their homes, and the shepherd teen sensed that something had changed.

Five more years passed, and the shepherd teen was now a shepherd. He still passed through his flock every morning and said, "Good morning, Dolly. Good morning, Steven and good morning, Betty." And the sheep loved the shepherd and he loved them. But in his age he had grown cautious. The shepherd had learned from the townspeople that perhaps the wolves were not so great a threat as he had thought. And so at night when he would see their red eyes prowling at the edges of his pasture, he would stay silent and wait.

One night, as the clouds began to cover the moon, a wolf appeared. The wolf approached Dolly the sheep and snarled, its lips wet. "Away!" cried the shepherd. "Away with you!" But the wolf showed its fangs and said, "I want your sheep." "Why?" cried the boy. "Why must you take my sheep? You have your food in the forest!" But the wolf laughed. "I want your sheep because I am a wolf and they are sheep. That is how it is done." And the wolf parted its terrible jaws and snatched up Dolly the sheep and dragged her into the deep woods. And the shepherd remained silent.

The next night two wolves appeared, their eyes red and their tongues hungry. The wolves approached Steven the sheep who was with his family. "Away with you!" cried the shepherd. "Why do you hate my sheep so?" The wolves cackled and said with the same voice, "we hate your sheep because it is the thing for sheep to be hated. All wolves hate sheep, and they cannot all be wrong. Even the birds and rabbits of the forest will come around." And the wolves each took a leg from Steven the sheep and hauled him into the dark woods. And still the shepherd held his tongue.

The next night as the moon was new the shepherd saw a sea of red eyes at the edge of the forest. The wolves marched toward his sheep, their heads held high. And the shepherd saw that indeed the birds and rabbits of the forest were among them, their eyes bleeding and their teeth sharp. They approached Betty the sheep who cried out in terror. The shepherd stood on a rock in his pasture and called out with a loud voice: "Help! Help! The wolves have come, and all the birds and rabbits of the forest!"

But this time no one came. You see, although the boy had cried wolf before, his fear was now justified. But the townspeople had grown tired of him. Every time the flock was threatened they felt compelled to act, and that compulsion drained them. And they no longer liked the shepherd. He had spent too much time with his sheep, and they had begun to see that same glittering black intelligence in his eyes. Sheep are frightened of everything and cannot be expected to know when they are truly in danger.

What had the shepherd done for them? He kept his sheep mostly to himself these days. Perhaps the shepherd was the one really in control, and he had used his cries of wolf to bend the townspeople to his will. Anyone whose flock was threatened that often must be doing something wrong.

And what was this about the birds and rabbits of the forest? They were peaceful! They could never be convinced to join with those who preyed upon them. Flocks of sheep are old and backwards and they are a drain on the town, the people thought. If the birds and rabbits hate the sheep they must have good reason to do so.

Again the shepherd called out, but the townspeople rolled over in their beds and stuffed their ears with sheep's wool. The shepherd's cries of wolf had made them feel guilty, and so they had found reasons for why they did not have to listen. And besides, the townspeople thought as they pulled their wolf skins over their heads and their eyes glowed red, the sheep really were delicious...

#atlas entry #I wrote and re-wrote this post 5 times bc i couldn't figure out how to say what I was thinking. so I decided to do what I do best and write #the story of the boy who cried wolf has always bothered me because like. yeah he shouldn't have cried wolf but also if the townspeople #actually cared about the flock they would come no matter what. instead they convince themselves that they don't have to care #anyways this post is about #antisemitism #and in particular #leftist antisemitism #jew #jewish #judaism #jumblr

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skarsjoy · 5 months

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calvinklein: Timeless ease. Alexander Skarsgård wears a bespoke look created by our Atelier to this year’s #MetGala.

Seen in a black double-breasted shaped jacket and trousers in Italian wool, finished with silk grosgrain lapels and covered buttons.

Photographer: Victoria Stevens

#alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgård #Calvin Klein #Met Gala 2024 #Victoria Stevens

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grapejuicestyless · 1 year

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i’m rlly sad summers gone but like I have a winter request for conrad so we good !!

fem reader (conklinnn ofc) and conrad used to date but then had a messy breakup so now everyone is in college and yn doesn’t have anywhere to go because everyone is off doing something for winter break so she takes stevens car and drives down to the summer house and conrad shows up a day later and she’s freaking out. They both stay there the whole week and romantic feelings and nostalgia builds up again 🤌🏻

you can add some of your own stuff too because your soooo creative and your work is golden!! thank you:)

Peace.

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Angst to fluff!

Summery: After a hard loss, both in a relationship and with the severing of the ties of her past, Y/n must learn to let go in order to gain what she so desperate wants back.

Snowfall is always overlooked. People see it as more of an inconvenience than as a gift. Each little white flake falling from the sky seems like nothing more than a mushy ball of frozen water made to block the roads and keep kids out of school, but the closer you look the more complex they are.

What was once so horrible becomes something beautiful, something unique. There is no other thing like it, each flake is different even by one branch in the pattern. It’s sad how many people are so quick to dismiss it and pout out their windows. White was never their favorite color and the cold was never their favorite temperature.

At this time of year, I usually considered myself lucky. I had a family who cherished each snowfall and a mother who would have hot-coco ready on the table for when our red cheeks and icy hair would become too much and we would finally come back inside to melt and warm up again. Each winter break my younger siblings, Steven and Belly would be attached at my hip. Having an older sister who only grew more and more, our time together always felt limited. So we spent each day in the living room. Playing the Wii with Steven and Barbies with Belly. I would read with my mom and cook with my dad. It was all so perfect. My favorite time of the year.

I used to joke with Conrad that college didn’t hold the same amount of excitement around the season because people were just as bitter and cold all year round. I called him cold hearted too because he thought it was funny. He laughed and kissed me then. I wonder if he would laugh now. Even if we no longer shared a stocking and cozied up by the fireplace impossibly close declaring our quiet loves for each other. I wonder if he still thinks fondly of the winter like I do now that it’s tainted with old memories of us.

Usually, during the winter I would drive down to Boston. It took some convincing for Laurel to allow her daughter to drive so far in such intense weather, but she knew where my heart belonged. It was the holidays and she was just as jolly as the rest of us, so she would always agree. There, I would bring gifts for all the Fishers. I didn’t have enough money to afford gifts and college, so everything was homemade. Every year I would apologize, but Susannah and Conrad always claimed to love it. Jeremiah wouldn’t say anything, but the smile on his face was always genuinely happy, so I think he liked them just as much.

Conrad would take my mitten clad hands after. Even covered in thick wool he managed to clasp his hands fully around mine, eager to get me alone. We’d slip away into his room, my cheeks red and eyelashes covered in snowflakes and his eyes wide and smile full. Behind closed doors, we could be as affectionate as we wanted without gags of jealousy disguised as disgust from Jeremiah or swooning from Susannah over how cozy we looked.

I remember how I believed my hips were made with dips so his hands could fit perfectly in them. How his arm rested on my waist so tight, I didn’t need a blanket because he kept me warm. No fireplace or layers of coats could light the flames in my heart and keep me warm in the coldest winters like Conrad could.

He said summer was his favorite season when he met me, but now he favored winter because it reminded him of me. I asked what would happen if something were to happen to us, just to tease him then. He got serious, I still remember the look on his face when he told me I would always be his favorite thing. How winter would forever remind him of me and no matter what, nothing could change that fact.

It was our own little secret oasis. A utopia of our own confined within the four walls of his childhood bedroom. When it snowed, we’d play in the snow like children and when it stormed we’d make forts to watch our favorite winter movies. It was a dream I never wanted to end, I was foolish to think it wouldn’t.

By spring, it felt like he was tired of me, of who I was. No amount of effort could keep Conrad beside me. I became someone he wasted his time on rather than someone he begged to be around. My skin was like fire to his touch, his eyes avoidant. It all came to a head when I broke down in late May.

“Why, why am I not enough?” I begged him then, I wanted to know what my problem was. Why I couldn’t be more than what I was now. Why we couldn’t go back.

He shrugged his shoulders, looking past my left shoulder. He looked distant. He knew it just as well as I did, we were walking on eggshells.

“Because you’re just not.” His words were bitter, knives stabbing me through the heart and ripping out. There was no reason, he didn’t even try to make the gashes in my heart better.

“Bullshit. I do everything for you! I give you everything!” It came out more as a question than a statement. I wasn’t as sure about what I once believed so firmly now that Conrad was showing how he felt.

“I guess it wasn’t enough then.” His eyes were watering. We were already talking in the past tense, we were over. He didn’t have to say it, neither did I. It was as clear as the freckles on his face, there was no amount of mending that could pull us back together.

In my mind I could only remember those final words we spoke to each other. The first hour of our long argument was washed from my mind for my own sake. What should’ve been tattooed permanently in my brain was gone the second we were over. Maybe if I could remember it fully, each insult and every word he used to put me down and make me feel small, I would’ve been able to feel justified in my anger. I could talk shit with my friends, shit on him to my mother. But even in my heartache, I couldn’t find reasons to be mad at him.

Conrad always went through so much on his own. It would be selfish of me to believe that he was completely okay when things ended. It was messy and sudden the way it happened. He was the biggest dick to me, but I couldn’t blame him for what he did. Not then, not now. Part of me still loved him. Part of me would still die for him in secret. He was my first love, all I knew when it came to my feelings. I let him rule my heart, my decisions. I didn’t show up to Cousins that summer.

Now that it was over, no ties binding us together, no overbearing reason to drive down to Boston for the weeks leading up to the holidays where we’d all finally be together again, I have no where to go. Steven was old enough to be on his own now, a freshman at Princeton. One of his rich friends had dropped by within the first twenty four hours to drag him off to his families vacation home. I hadn’t even set up the Wii yet. Belly, my littlest sibling who I adored more than anyone else I knew was more distant than Steven. The stress of deciding between Finch and Jeremiah or some state school with the guarantee of being on volleyball was eating her alive. Back then, I would’ve told her not to lose sight of her dreams and life because of some boy, but here I was doing the same thing. I stayed quiet and let her decide what she wanted.

My mom was gone just like Steven. Away to talk about her book with other critically acclaimed writers and producers. My dad was out of the picture. He wouldn’t be back until Christmas morning. He was never really present after the divorce, but he’s a good man and he tries his best. He just works a lot. It hurts to not be able to enjoy the holidays like I used to, but I can respect why everyone’s away.

Somehow, I end up in Stevens drivers seat. I’ve never had a car of my own. While Steven spent weeks searching the internet for a cheep car, I spent my time studying for finals and applying to colleges. I never had the time. He gave me his keys before he left. He said I could take his car anywhere I wanted as long as I didn’t ruin it. Each dent in it, I would owe him ten bucks. It wasn’t much, but to a struggling college student, ten dollars in my bank account might as well have been him asking for hundreds.

“Belly, I’m heading out. Call me if you need me, okay? I might not be back for awhile.” The words I chose were ominous. I didn’t tell her where I was going, why I was going or how long I’d be exactly, but she didn’t care enough to ask. So I climbed into Stevens car and let my playlist shuffle. I imagine myself in the situations my favorite artists write about and sing along like I can relate to their upper class parties and juvenile activities. It keeps my mind off of where I’m going.

It’s not like I got in the car set on heading to the one place that once swore to never step foot near again, but when I recognize the signs on the highway pointing me in the same direction, I’m suddenly set on it.

The sting of the breakup lingered like a tattooed kiss, a reminder of something so special that was now gone. I wouldn’t let him ruin the place that was once so special to our families.

Pulling up to that driveway, I remember how the weeds would grow over the gravel by July and how Steven and Jeremiah would stay out for hours plucking at them to make Susannah happy. How the grass held the imprints of our small bodies rolling around the hills and daffodils. The sand was forever glued into the fabric of our favorite t-shirts and the salt air is what we smelled of until December washed it away.

We were always so close here. Despite the rifts and the problems that happened between us. Not blow out fight or silent treatment could ever separate the Conklin’s and the Fishers from each other for long.

I looked back on how I felt at home. How together was something that I never even questioned. Steven would be by the fireplace yelling at the television and Belly would be begging him to quiet down. Laurel would be curled up in the corner scribbling things into a notepad and dad would try to sneakily move the elf on the shelf.

We were older now. The wii wasn’t all that special and Belly longed for the chaos she once hated. Steven preferred his friends and mom and dad fell out of love so mom could learn to love her work more.

I pulled into the large house through the garage. I knew the code by heart, it was my phone passcode. I figured that if I wanted to stay attached to homeliness so badly I could be where I learned what love was the best.

In my head, even now I always believed that no matter how long it would go untouched, the summer home would always be bright and warm. Smelling of Susannah’s candles and Belly’s sticky iced teas.

Stepping through the front door, it was dark and cold. My breath was less visible than in the outside, but the light and heat didn’t bounce from wall to wall like it always did.

It took me a few minutes to find the correct switch to turn up the heat. I cranked it until my socks burned on my feet and a sweat covered the top of my forehead. It was comfortable, I could sink into my own chunky sweater.

It was my mothers, the blue and white striped sweater I wore. She was gifted it by Susannah in their late college years but it never quiet fit her because she was so short. It fit big, but it didn’t sag at my knees or gather at my wrists as much. It smelled like my mom and reminded me of Pennsylvania skies.

The warmth from the heat and the comfort from my clothes set me in a slump, my eyes drooped. I hadn’t even turned on any lights yet, hadn’t gone up to my room to make the bed. I was sat in place on the permanently indented couch. Though my body curled into the spot where I always laid during movie nights, my head fell where Conrad’s lap would’ve been. To imagine we were all just as happy, as close made me feel fuzzy. If I tried hard enough I could even hear his voice. Calling for me, like a dream.

The sun peaked through the windows and the dust that collected on the once neatly kept glass projected tiny shadows and spots across the hardwood floor. The couch was warm with my body heat and other than the faint whisper of the wind, it was peaceful.

A melodic whistle blowed through the open gap between the living room and the kitchen. It was smooth yet broke when the song grew too high for the deeper voice that carried the tune.

Rubbing at my eyes, my feet swung out from under my thighs, I wiped away any drool or signs of slumber. Still, clearing my complexion did not rid my body of the tired achey feeling and the small blurring of my vision. My brain was following behind my body, every caution sign to who was here at this time thrown to the wind.

Mugs clanked together clumsily, my nose burned with the strong scent of coffee beans. It was chillier in the morning here than how I had left it at night, I could feel the tip of my nose turning red and growing colder.

A taller boy stood hunched over the countertops, a spoon clinking around softly as he stirred around something in the mug. His shirt hung loose on his body but his pants fit just right.

His hair was wavy, but only just at the ends. Under the strong smells of early morning caffeine, I could faintly still pick up the scent of sea salt and a spice I couldn’t name. It was vanilla like but also had a lingering smell of oak and woods. It was my favorite smell.

“Conrad..?” It clicked in my brain that the handsome boy hanging around the summer home wasn’t some pick me up sent from heaven. The reason behind my instant admiration for such a simple, domestic task was because of how well I knew and once loved the boy. The name fell from my lips quietly, like I couldn’t believe it was true.

Spinning around, I met his blue eyes. I watched his lips twitch, fighting against some kind of emotion from spreading across his face and the light in his eyes falter. He looked blank, unaware of how his lack of enthusiasm of our reuniting was crushing me inside.

“Figured you’d want coffee.” He was right. He still knew me like the back of his own hand and that was the worst part. I hadn’t changed, I never would. He would always know me and it hurt to know I trusted him like that at one point just for him to leave. He even made it in my favorite mug.

A light blue ceramic mug that still had Belly and Conrad’s fingerprints in the clay and visible brush strokes across the top. They made it for me when we were still little. It was my favorite gift from her because they made it as an apology. For breaking my old vase I made for my mom in art class. They meant to harm and felt horrible, I cherished their kindness more than anything.

“No…no. I’m all set.” Crossing my arms and clearing my throat, I set my eyes on the ground and leaned against the doorframe on the wall. We didn’t speak after that, he didn’t move. Sucking in his lips, I heard him sigh almost disappointedly.

“So…” He tried to start, I was too scared to listen. Not of him, god I could never be scared of him. But of what he could want to say.

My eyes flicked over the dents in the floor, I discovered marks I hadn’t seen before. Just when I thought I had everything memorized. When I thought I knew everything, when I thought I knew him.

“You know, uhm…I think I’m going to settle in.” Nodding at him quickly, I all but ran to the stairs. My hands gripped at the banister so quickly, I felt skin pull skin. It tore just under my fingers beginning, the top of my palm. I swore I heard him call after me, but maybe it was the ringing in my ears.

I came here to get away. In search of some solace, I grasped at the tattered strands of my childhood to find that I had held on too long. In my own journey, by some sort of fate, I dragged along a deeper part of those memories with me.

I spent that morning stowed away in my bedroom. I left the door ajar. The air was chilly still, and the air dusty. The heat had rarely been used. Only on the rare occasions in which Susannah would find reason to escape down to the beautiful town of Cousins. Simply to watch the early snowfalls or sparkling lights decorating the center of the town. Usually when I would get settled into my own room in the summer home, each knickknack would be thrown carelessly over the bureau top and shoved in the forever empty bedside table drawers. I would procrastinate making my bed last. I hated the damned fitted sheets and the wrinkles I couldn’t flatten for days. I hated the way that the corners never stayed. My body stretched as far as it would go, yet I could never quiet hook the fabric far enough to keep it settled.

Today was no different. My blood boiled the same, but it mixed with an unfamiliar warmth. How endearing it was to be able to relive such a memorable moment of my summers again even after tragedy struck the once uniting household.

“Fuck.” The sheets flipped up. The full sized mattress was far too wide to allow my arms to stretch across the full width of its body and hook the corners over far enough to where they wouldn’t slip. Each move resulted in a different kind of release with the bedsheets. Each time I ended up wrapped up in the thin cotton sheets.

The clock ticking on my bedside table taunts me. Reminds me of how long I’ve been tangled around in my bed. If it weren’t so humiliating, I would’ve asked for help. But I created a mess. My feelings, one’s that Conrad had so clearly buried as he was able to be kind and cordial towards me while I panicked like a fish out of water. So I hop around from corner to corner desperate to finish my task.

“Y/n?” The name burns the way it rolls off of his tongue. Like even with me gone, he had practiced pronouncing it in the mirror, whispered it to himself each night. It was like we’d seen each other the day before, the way it came out. Breathless and light.

The moon hung over the house, illuminating thin strips of shine through the windows that led from the floor to the very bed I was sprawled across.

Sighing heavily, I threw my head back. Hair fell in front of my face, tickling the bridge of my nose. I saw Conrad hesitate. His hand flinched out from where it was tucked behind the doorframe. He set it on the white wood frame.

“Can I help?” It was innocent enough. Maybe he was sick of the sound of my knees rubbing against the mattress. Or the way I grunted every few minutes. I stumbled around my room all day fixing it up, I almost forgot how loud it could’ve been.

It felt sour to accept it. Even if it were as innocent and kind as it seemed. Conrad had a glimmer of hope in his eye and his lips upturned. He looked so handsome still, nose pinker from the slight chill and eyes still just as deep blue.

“No thank you.” I huffed. I tried to sound annoyed, something that was hard to do when you weren’t really all that annoyed at all. Resistant was the only similar thing I could place a name to. I saw the wag Conrad’s smile faltered, his eyes looming with a dark shadow, masking the vibrant sparkle.

“Come on, don’t be so stubborn, please? You’ve been at it for hours, just let me help.” Stubborn. Just like my mother and his. Each of us were always set to do things on our own. But this was far more than just genetics at this point. This was my own grudge I was holding. This was my pride and my responsibility over my emotions acting. No matter how nice the gesture, I still refused, gnashing my teeth.

“Oh, so suddenly you care?” It was a lot more mean than I meant it. I know how much Conrad cares. How much he always has. He doesn’t have the best way to show for it, but in the end you always know it. It was a mistake, an instant regret. I watched how his face contorted. He wasn’t just disappointed now, but genuinely hurt by my own dig at his insecurities.

His whole life, Conrad always feared he wasn’t enough. He couldn’t give enough, couldn’t be enough. He always talked himself down, creating a false standard in which everyone else was above him, out of his league. He was insecure. He didn’t need reassurance, he knew what kind of love was real and what was fake, but the fact that maybe I had thought the same crushed him. I could tell.

His silence hung over us so heavy, a knife could slice it. His jaw stuttered and his eyes blinked slow. A loss for words. I wish he could just yell at me. Fuel my fire, make me feel less bad about what I said. Less guilty about the fact I couldn’t get over us when he could. Conrad didn’t deserve my emotional daggers directed at his heart simply because we split. I know Conrad, I always have. His method of leaving was cruel, but the boys heart was in the right place always.

“Fuck!” The sheet snapped back. I had enough. In all seriousness, I should’ve stopped to talk to the boy who was so clearly hurt by the door. A girl, a guest in a house that once felt just as much as hers as his was there in a now occupied room throwing insults unprovoked when he was trying to be nice.

Standing, I stumbled past him clumsily again, taking a spare blanket that hung off the end of the bed with me. I couldn’t take it. His stares, the silence, the sheet, my own guilt, my thoughts. I needed to be out of that sickened room.

“Y/n…” Again, the call was faint. A whisper in my head whose only goal was to make me stop. I didn’t turn. It was unfair, the whole thing. To me, to Conrad. I decided to sleep on the couch.

My back ached. The plush cushioning under my back too soft, too worn in. A good remedy, a great place for a quick nap. But it hurt after more than a few hours. The fabric rubbed harshly, the pillows sunk in. My hips popped when I stood.

The sun was shining through the windows, air crisp. Heat finally reached all corners of the large house and the cob webs were finally swept away. The magic of summer wasn’t there, but it felt homely. A good alternative to the sad loneliness of my own bedroom at home.

The house was still, the kitchen untouched and an empty mug in the sink. It was stained in a ring from where the old drink had been and had little brown streaks from where the coffee dripped off of the sides. The counter tops were cold, despite the heat inside. The floor was quiet, there was no shuffling. It led me to believe that the only other occupant was still asleep.

Heading up the stairs, I picked at my old clothes. The discomfort came from multiple things. The way my clothes stuck to my body, my teeth didn’t feel right in my mouth. My hair was knotted. I looked fine, but nothing felt right. The only way to describe it was that when waking up after a rough couple of nights, it felt like my skin didn’t fit right over my bones.

My door was wide open. The hinges bent all the way back, the light bled through the curtains. My already slow steps came to a halt when the threshold fell behind my legs. My bed was decorated with the same blue floral design it always had during the summers.

The pillows were placed where I always had them, and my blankets were hung so neat on the bottom of my bed. My fingers ran over the soft fabric like it wasn’t really mine. Like I was admiring a sample from a store, wishing it were mine. It was always so pretty.

My thumb hooked over the folded edge very carefully. I didn’t want to mess with the perfectly made bed. More importantly, I didn’t want to crease the remaining hand prints that laid in the center of the bed.

The plushy duvet left residue from bigger hands. Spread along the bends, from the center down. Proof that someone had truly tried their best to perfect it.

Looking under the top, not only had each layer been placed, but the fitted sheet. I could see it now with all its layers peeled back. The thought that even after my initial attempts to push away, to be mean, to hurt him, that Conrad had still wanted to help me made me feel warm. I wasn’t sure why my heart was fluttering for a boy I swore I hated. But my cheeks were red and my knees felt weak. I always did love his acts of service.

I didn’t plan on showering, but my skin was sticky with sleep and my heart was pounding too fast. I hated the fact that Conrad was too good for everyone in his own special ways. I hated the way he still cared and the way he remained so observant even in our absence. Most of all, I hate the way I reach for his shampoo in the shower. Longing for the scent of him to linger on me for just a little longer. How funny it is that we’ve changed so quickly and yet not at all. We used to share our hair products. He kept a hair tie for me in his bedside table. I had a drawer of clothes in his room, he had some in my closet. He went from my everything to just something in my life. Yet, with all this change I still reach for the familiarities of what we once had. My hand still searches the shower for his conditioner. My feet still take me to his door to find a shirt I like. What we had is gone, crushed under the weight of our separation, but my muscle memory pulls me back. The heart is a muscle, one that forever beats for Conrad Fisher.

I sit in the corner for longer than I lather the soap across my skin. My body is curled up against the cold tiles. I feel pathetic doing so. How small I’ve made myself. Not only mentally, but physically. I feel weak at how little self control I have. I think back on the past year of my life and I regret each decision I’ve made leading me here suddenly.

Was I not enough for Conrad? I know it’s not his reasoning behind his leaving, but I feel like the theory becomes more and more plausible the longer I think back on how lonely I’ve been. So stuck on my own problems, I forget how little I see my family. How Belly has grown without me. Her friends, her lovers. She is independent, she knows her path. Steven has matured. He understands feelings, he’s valedictorian. His brains lead him through life, he no longer comes to me at midnight to ask for help with math. I no longer review his essays or read his made up stories in the living room. We are two different siblings who once spent every moment together. My mother is nose deep in her own promotion with her books. She is succeeding while my father is going on dates and moving on. I am stuck in the same spot, forever thinking of the past, I can not move on.

I am scared by the knowledge that my family is no longer dependent on me. A scab is forming over the wound of the fact that Conrad has left, I am not needed. I hope the warm water fading into a cooler drizzle will hide the way my eyes are puffy and red. The streaks of water on cheeks will become streams of the shower. I am strong and resistant like my parents, but I am scared to admit that I have real fears. Ones that control my life. I will never tell them how I breakdown, how my heart is breaking and I am falling off the pedestal.

It’s more lively now then it was just an hour ago. The birds are gone, on vacation away in the warmer weather while the cold covers New England in a chilling blanket. I hear the mugs clattering from the hallways and the soft humming passing through his pink lips. He hears me before he sees me.

“Coffee?” He motioned to the brown liquid, steaming while it poured into the glass pitcher. Rubbing beneath my eyes, I could feel the weight of my eye bags heavy on my skin. My throat was coarse, hands aching from how hard I had grasped onto the shower walls. I hid behind the island counter on the stool. My body curled up into the baggy clothes covering my body, my knees hugging into my chest as close as possible.

“Yes, please.” I mumbled softly, trying not to show any weaknesses. Conrad knew me better than that. The way my lip twitched into a fake smile, how my eyes were more avoidant that usual. Even in my heavy feelings, my eyes were always drawn to him. I was closing myself off.

A beat passed. Conrad’s attempt at conversation had fallen short, right by my feet.

“How’d you sleep?” He turned to me, freshly brewed coffee sloshing around in the same mug as yesterday. He placed it in front of me, but he turned away again to pour his own cup. It wasn’t to further distance himself, creating a divide all while I was shutting down, but to give me room to breathe in a space I was so clearly suffocating in.

“It was okay.” I sighed, hand holding my head, my eyes closed. I imagined myself laid with my back pressed against plush pillows and my childhood bedroom fairy lights hanging over my head. It was still winter, but the atmosphere in my daydream felt of summer.

“I’m glad, then. That it wasn’t so bad, I mean.” He corrected himself, afraid of a wrath inside of me that didn’t exist to him anymore. It never really had, my emotions had only been misplaced yesterday.

Often I’ve been told that my words shoot to kill when I’m mad. I insult and belittle myself more than others, but my mother has no problem with bringing up the few times I targeted my feelings at Steven or Belly. How little I made them feel, how guilty I felt. I threw up once, after yelling at Steven. He hadn’t cared for it, fighting was what siblings did. But remembering how I tried to hurt him made me sick. I felt the same after insulting Conrad.

Nodding my head, I pursed my lips into a thin line. My eyes blinked away any dryness, I inhaled a deep breath.

“Hey, uhm…thank you, by the way.” I pulled the sleeves of my sweater over my hands, hovering over the cup of coffee to revel in the hot steam hitting my face.

Conrad turned around, leaning against the counter. His hands pressed up behind him, firm but his face was soft, glad.

“I shouldn’t have…you didn’t deserve that.” My eyes flickered between the floor and the folding of my sleeves over my thumbs. My skin was cold, my hair wet on the back of my neck. I had a lump in my throat.

“Y/n?” His voice was gentle, closer than before. I saw his elbows press against the counter top, just mere inches away. I felt even more awkward, littler than before somehow.

I hummed. But the coarseness in my throat made it come out as more of a rumble. I choked on the growing lump, my nose burned.

“We don’t have to avoid each other.” He said it like that was so easy. Like everything was resolved by him simply stating that he didn’t want to face the consequences of our actions.

“I know.” I brought the edge of the mug to my lips and blew. Steam clouded my vision, the wet heat felt nice on my cheeks.

“Y/n.” He said more firmly.

He wasn’t angry, but he wanted my attention. My eyes flickered up to his. They were darker now. Swarmed with so many emotions, it was hard to grasp onto what he was feeling. I set the mug down.

“Please don’t avoid me.” He begged more softly, his hand hesitated to reach out to me. Once they clasped around mine, it was almost relieving. Having something familiar to ground me while I was only working myself up. “I miss you, I miss us. We were best friends and we haven’t even spoken in…I don’t even know how long. This, this is stupid. To be running in circles like this?”

“That’s easy for you to say.” This time, my words weren’t angry. They broke apart when I spoke. The sentence was raw, the lump in my throat broke through my clenched teeth and my nose heated up in an intense burn. My eyes were heavy, working hard to keep any tears at bay. Again, here I find myself in a different spot, practicing the same habits. I stand in front of Conrad angry, ready to hurt his ego and pierce a hole through his heart just to ease my own mind.

I wanted exactly what he did, to be as close. I missed him more than anything in my life ever, but it wasn’t so simple. He pleaded my name again, I pulled my hands out of his. His fingers were like a barbed wire. It suddenly stung to have him touching me.

“I just wish you would’ve acknowledged it, you know? I mean look at me, look at us. You’re fine, you’re happy. I can’t even look at you without wanting to cry.” When our hearts broke, they broke uneven. Conrad was left with a bruise why I was facing the pain of a bleeding scar across my own. He had been the one to cause the rift, he had been the one to bring up everyone’s insecurities, use them against our relationship.

“Y/n.” He whispered, reaching out to me again. I stood from the stool, keeping my distance. My tears were hot, they burned into my skin.

“You couldn’t even stand me, Conrad! And I couldn’t see it before, but I can now. You couldn’t even text me, no. No, but that’s not the worst part. Maybe it’s the fact that you couldn’t even show up to Stevens graduation because I was there.” He sighed, ready to defend himself. I look back on all the disappointed faces, I remember the way Steven frowned at that empty seat beside me and I feel angry.

“Do you know how hard it is to tell your baby brother that his hero couldn’t make it to his graduation because he can’t even stand to be around me? Do you know how sad he was when he started to walk up to the podium and saw your seat was empty? I recorded it and sent it to you, did you know that? I wasn’t going to, I didn’t think you deserved to have a part in one of the most important parts in Stevens life, but he begged me to. Tried to make me send it twice so you’d get it.” I took a deep breath, wiping away the tears by my eyes, more spilled. My face was wet with salt water and red with anger.

“So why don’t we go back to how things were before after you’ve fucked it all up!”

“It’s really fucking unfair of you to act like this hasn’t affected me at all either!” He finally shot back. He was never one to yell. Conrad always had some sort of control over his composure. He never yelled, he hated yelling.

“How, how can you say that after you’ve done nothing to fix anything!” Walking closer to him, I saw how he turned away to grip the counter between his fingers.

“People deal with shit differently, Y/n. Grow up!” He yelled. His eyes were wild, it should’ve scared me. But god, him telling me to grow up after all he put me through only made me angrier. I was fragile already. But not as a flower, but a bomb.

“Fuck you, Conrad.” My voice was shaky, but firm. I didn’t yell, my lack of volume was almost scarier than my inevitable rage. He looked up at me, it was like watching him realize how his words had betrayed him. He hadn’t meant for us to fight, to talk like this. He wanted to fix things. He wanted me back.

“Y/n.” He shook his head, walking closer to me, he bent away from the edges of the island to reach me quicker. His voice was laced with pity

“Stop saying my name!” I backed away, feet catching on the threshold, I slowed myself down. Each time he said it, it pulled on my heartstrings. How could he be so selfish to not even be able to see all the pain I’ve been put through!

“I’ve missed you ever since I left you! You think I don’t regret the way I treated you? I’m not naïve to my own stupidity, I know my mistakes, I’ve owned them. You were my everything, god you might as well have hung the stars!” He waved his hands around to animate what he was saying. It only stresses me out more.

“Then why? Why did you throw it all away!” My body began to crumble beneath me, my knees wobbled.

“Because I was scared! I was scared of losing you. I thought if I let myself become too obsessed, that if you decided to leave me I would never be able to get back up. I had to do it!” He confessed. It all made sense then. All my unanswered questions, all my insecurities of not being enough. Conrad hadn’t left because I couldn’t give him what he wanted. He left because he was scared of what would happen when I was gone. That he wasn’t enough.

“I wouldn’t have left you, Conrad. I wouldn’t have.” My palms hit my eyes, my knees started to give. A sob ripped through my throat. It hurt to breathe.

His arms were like a blanket. His hands still fit perfectly around my back. When he held me, it was tight. I knew it then that he wouldn’t be letting me go, not now. His shirt was wet with my tears, mine was wet with my hair. I felt stupid, naïve to think of Conrad in such bad ways when he had only been doing what he thought was best to protect his heart after loss after loss.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I repeated it like a prayer, I didn’t mean to be so mean. I didn’t want to be rude to him, I wanted him to be close to me always. His heart was beating out of his chest when he nodded. He knew I never meant to fight him. We were both entitled to our feelings, there was no reason in trying to apologize for how we reacted.

His hand lifted to my head, brushing through my hair. He gathered a chunk in his palm, his knuckles gripping at it. It didn’t hurt, he didn’t intend for it to. He was breathing me in, holding onto me in every which way possible.

“It’s going to be okay, we’re going to be okay.” My sobs were muffling themselves, quieting down into soft whimpers. It took a lot to even nod my head against his shirt. It smelled like him, and it was homely. I felt safer now than in our argument. Our words held no value anymore, I just hoped that what he said was true.

Holding her like that almost made things feel normal again. Having her hair in between my fingers and her waist pressed against mine. I wanted to revel in it, selfishly. But her sniffles and uneven breath only made me remember why I even got the privilege to hold her again.

Again and again, I watched her breakdown over a mistake I made. To protect myself. I swore it to her last winter, promised her that it would always be my favorite season because she was my favorite thing. I built up this trust and a love between us. It was when she left that I freaked out over what my mom said.

“I’ve never seen you so happy.” She had said, poncho bc my cheek between her fingers. Playfully, I pulled my face away.

“Yea?” I mused, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and watched the steady snowfall on the final night of winter through the window.

“The love bug’s got you.” She was right. I was so undeniably in love with Y/n. I would change everything in my life just to be with her always.

“What?” My eyes squinted from the way my eyebrows furrowed. She was still looking out into the snow.

“It’s okay to be in love, Connie.” She quickly turned to me and smoothed out my shirt. She sensed my confusion and stress. I knew I was in love with her, but the fact that it was that obvious, that clear made me worry.

“Everyone has their first love at some point.” With that she left. At some point. The words rung through my head. I knew that the first love was always the strongest, but this was not my first love. I had fallen for an ex-girlfriend in freshman year. She broke my heart. Why was the thought of Y/n leaving shattering mine completely?

The more I thought of us together then, the more I worried about her leaving. She was perfect for me, maybe. But could I even measure up to her perfection? Could I give her everything?

I was able to push that feeling away for a few weeks. But as winter turned to spring and the leave began to regrow, I couldn’t shake it. Distance was a thing I was only growing between us. Space, something I created so there was no way we could get hurt. I thought it was the right thing, then. I thought it was the right move for me to let her leave so easily. To watch her fight for me one last time and not react. I was giving her the chance for someone more, someone better. I didn’t know I was only breaking her heart in ways I worried I would break my own.

It was a guilt I lived with all these months. When she didn’t come up to cousins because she wasn’t feeling good, I knew why. I had avoided her like the plague after our last conversation, our first real fight. I couldn’t even show up for her family in one of their most important milestones. Now it seemed like we only fight now, or at least in these past couple hours.

My neck was stiff from how it leaned against the back of the couch. I hadn’t watched past the hour mark of the black and white movie Conrad had put on. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I no longer liked it.

The movie was all I watched when I was at my absolute worst. Not to say I wasn’t still there, I felt rock bottom beneath my feet, but I felt myself getting better slowly. I no longer spent each day rewatching the same film over and over to ease the pain and remind myself of a happier time. I hated the way they talked. I once found it romantic, but the old cracking in the sound and the fancy accents made me angry. None of it was real.

To Conrad, he only did what he thought I would like. He had no way of knowing of my new distaste to the movie. One I used to rave about for hours. Then again, he never asked.

Yawning, I felt a set of eyes on mine.

“Tired?” He asked, a small smile on his face. I waved him off.

“Nope.” I popped the ‘p.’ It was an easy lie, my dark circles and slouchy posture gave it away. There was no way to sell it. I was surprised when he didn’t push me on it. My eyes drooped, my cheek pressed to my lonely shoulder. I had no one to lean on. I curled into myself a little, all while silently telling myself I was awake.

A pillow hit my lip, I bit down a little but it didn’t hurt me. My eyes were wide open now, hair messed up around the top. My fly aways were all over the place, my eyes squinting.

“Hey!” Grabbing the corners of the pillow, I swung as hard as I could towards Conrad, the culprit. It his his chest, he groaned out in a heavy breath. The pillow was soft, I was sure it didn’t hurt. But he entertained the idea that it did by rubbing circles in his chest, wincing and hissing through his teeth. I rolled my eyes.

“Seriously?” I leaned back against the cushions again, placing the pillow comfortably over my lap. I heard him laugh. A real, genuine laugh. It felt like weight was lifted off of my back.

“What! That was one of my best performances.” He punched my shoulder. I shot him playful glares. He pushed at me again, begging for a reaction. I folded already, giving into his games and retaliating against his childish attacks. But I would not crumble so easily. I would not let him tease me and play me until I opened up again just hours after yet another fight. I worried that another would ensue.

Sitting up, I tossed the pillow back at him. The sound he made confirmed it had hit him in the face.

“Come on, where are you going?” I could hear the smile in his voice. It made me smile too, knowing he was happy.

“To bed, I am tired.” I didn’t look back, but I felt him watching.

I swore I heard words die on his tongue. A soft stutter to a dead silence. Like he wanted to protest but stopped himself somehow. He never saw me look back, but when I was turning to the stairs, I allowed myself a glimpse.

His eyes were spacey, lip pulled between his front teeth. His eyebrows furrowed. He was deep in thought, but I could see the disappointment in his face. He didn’t seem as full of life, as cheerful. We were rebuilding a childhood, best friend bond that was lost with in cracking of our foundations in the spring.

“Goodnight, Conrad.” I still hadn’t had the ability to carry a joke with him. To keep a conversation flowing without my emotions dying inside of me before I could get them out. I whispered my goodnight. I wanted him to know I still held a place in my heart for him, but part of me wanted to reserve that knowledge to only myself.

I was scared to be more than what was being proposed. The door was open, we were almost friends. It was an odd spot. We’d act like friends, joke like them, but we both knew what we had done, what had just happened. I would walk through the entrance if Conrad would allow it. If we could at least be close, even if his lips weren’t mine, even if his body wasn’t there for me to lean on anymore. I would live happily, I’d be able to put on a brave face and call myself his friend. I would stand by the alter, watching him find another love, burying the hatchet of our love for good and I would be okay, I decided. As long as I still had him. As long as I never had to feel as alone as I did this morning.

“They’re saying borderline blizzard conditions, Con. You don’t think we’ll need to go on a supply run, do you?” His back was turned to me, hands working over the pot of coffee skillfully. His thumb brushed against the glass, he hissed quietly and shook his hand off.

“I think you’re just overthinking it.” He payed my worry not attention. He knew this house better than I did. It would hold, that wasn’t the worry. We had no shovels, nothing to dig us out of snow were to block us in. I scoffed and rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. I made my way around the island, pushing myself off of the counter and into one of the stools perched under it.

“Coffee?” Conrad asked, ignoring my questions again. I gave into him, playing his game and being stubborn.

“What kind?” My fingers drew circles on the cold marble.

“Black.” He set the cup down in front of me, letting it come to a halt right in front of me. My eyes flickered to the coffee, a smirk fighting it’s way onto my cheeks.

“Like your soul?” Like your heart, is what I wanted to say. Something that used to come so easy, meaningless insults directed at him not to make him sad, but to make him smile. I still hadn’t answered by question, though. If I were to direct a remark at his heart, would it weigh too much under the cracking foundation of our recovering friendship? I still wondered if he would laugh at that and go along with it.

Conrad laughed, looking out the window and admiring the sky. He didn’t respond, but he never really had when I’d make those jokes. Usually he would laugh or tell me it was a good one. He sighed lightly.

“I walked right into that one.” He smiled down at his coffee now, holding the mug loose with the handle dangling between his fingers.

When silence took over the room, it wasn’t uncomfortable. We welcomed it. We were alone with our thoughts and for once, they weren’t twisted and heavy. Only happy memories and thoughts of old habits.

In my mind, I dreamed of times where I knew what to say after making a joke. What I could do to counter a snarky remark and his laughter. I always knew what to say to him, when and why. I knew what made him tick. I still knew how to set him off, I believe that once you have the ability to get under someone’s skin, you never truly lose it. Either you continue to poke at the wounds that hurt them so, or your presence is able to remind them of it. Yet, with all the loss in my every heartbeat, somewhere along the way I forgot how to keep him happy.

Conrad’s footsteps snapped me out of my clouded haze. My eyes snapped up from the counter to his face. He didn’t look at me, but stayed focused on his coffee.

“Glad to know you still got it.” His eyes flicked to me, I swear I saw him wink. It was so quick, my words died in a pathetic stutter. I smiled stupidly at him, I couldn’t even pretend to be snarky. It caught me off guard, somehow. My walls were torn down now, the barrier of anger and sadness I kept up around him to keep us apart gone with our last fight and heart to hearts. The devils in the details, but somehow it didn’t feel as deep, as life changing anymore.

It was like he knew I couldn’t think of something to promise to him. To keep us going. He surely hadn’t lost it.

I tried to rationalize everything recently. But it felt like it took over my life. I’d almost forgotten about Belly and Steven. How they’d been so quick to shut me out simply because someone had offered me a place to be wanted for a moment. Conrad always knew when to swoop in to save me. I could help but talk myself down every so often and convince myself that Conrad is not made of Angel dust. He simply is a man, and a smart one at that. All of this could be just to butter me up, I know it’s always an outcome. A way to win me back, but never want me the same. It poisons me to think about him that way, I know him. He would never play me to become the good guy.

My mind has no middle line. Constantly wavering between my lover, the man I see as the sky and the seas. I see him as a perfect lipstick stain to a white collar, uggs in the fall, hot chocolate in the winter. He is all things I love and yet I still fight. The other part of me fights my heart to keep my distance. How just hours ago I told myself the hate I had for Conrad was always going to be just that, irreversible hurt that he caused. It’s the sweetest torture I could bare in the fact that really, by the end of it my mind is set on just getting to be with him again. No matter what his games are.

It’s pathetic, but my heart strings pull a little whenever I hear his footsteps upstairs. When I can tell if he’s coming to see me or not. I like knowing he likes to be around me once more. It almost covers up the fact that he hurt me so bad. I’m not idiot, however. I wish I were in some cases, but I’m not blinded completely by my love. With every advance, I find a way to make it platonic. He’s my friend.

He said he missed me, our friendship bond. I know that he is a man of his word. I should not work myself up, I shouldn’t expect so much. I shouldn’t jump into his arms because he says go. I think rationally, I use my head. I let my heart race and my cheeks flush but ultimately my brain will stop me from messing about again. So part of me finds it sad when the power goes out later that day. For both the house and myself. It’s childish how quickly I jump in search of Conrad. I have to remind myself not to hold onto him, not to yell I told you so.

I call for his name quietly through the halls, feeling the chipping paint under my finger tips. It’s still fresh, but bumpy. A previous project of Susannah’s from when her paint brushes never seemed to dry out. It’s hard to tell if she never finished her projects that summer. Or even if she never finished any.

In the dark, it’s almost more clear to see where her brush strokes end. Where the moonlight illuminates the white and blues, you can see the divides between old and new. God, if she were any less attentive it would surely be the end of this house. It was in great condition, but some things were out of place, uncared for simply because Susannah’s mind went a mile a minute.

Smiling, I let my hands run over the wall, feet planting on the cold wood. I could feel it through my socks, with the lights out and the heat stuttering to a halt.

“Y/n/n, hey.” He sounded breathless, coming up from behind me. I hadn’t even noticed the stomping of his feet up the staircase as my fingers danced along the wall. So caught up in the past I find it that sometimes I forget that I’m living in my present. Looking around my metaphorical room in my mind, I see my chosen family. I see his brother as mine, his mother as mine. I see myself as a child again running through the sand and tracking mud through the dining room.

I know deep down I can not keep holding on, keep on keeping myself back. I can never give Conrad peace, but I can give him my sunshine, my best. He would always have a friend in me. I set my heart free then, fingers stuck to the wall, eyes flickering to my feet. I let go of my heart break and my solemn silences I throw at my loved ones for guilt. I let my walls down, I take Conrad’s hand, and I shake my head. His smile is warm, his eyes loving. He still needs me, he always has. He still loves me and my heart is racing. I finally feel like I have him back.

“You okay?” Back in reality, I’m aware that I’m not actually holding onto his hand, and Conrad isn’t really smiling at me. My heart is still in its cage and I have fallen victim to my own mind again. Conrad is not mine.

Clearing my throat, I lick at the corners of my lips. When I shake my head this time, I know it’s real because Conrad is looking at me questioningly. He is not in love with me, he is not drooling over me. The power is still out and our muddy footprints mean nothing to him anymore.

“We blew a fuse, but the generators dead. We’re just going to have to stick it out.” I nodded again, looking up at him with doe eyes. My lips were glossy with a sheen coat of spit from how much I licked them, but at them nervously. Yet, he didn’t even spare me a glance. It was almost like he was waiting on something.

“You can say it.” He finally sighed.

“Say what?” His eyes caught mine, seeing just how intently my eyes focused on his dimples and the bridge of his nose decorated with delicate freckles. I cleared my throat.

“You told me so.” He smiled, punching my shoulder playfully. He could tell my mind was drifting, he could see it, I saw the way his eyes softened. My gentle smile turned into a shit-eating grin.

A beat passed, he continued waiting on me in the dark room. I liked it in some odd ways. Enjoyed having him waiting on me for once. It wasn’t the same. How my heart waited for his apologies for so long, how I expected it because I knew one day he would come back to me to make things right in his own way. But somehow, his desire for my once overlooked jokes and brushed off comments made my cheeks warm. Like more than me in this moment, he wanted the normal us back.

“Are you going to…” He voice trailed off, my feet picked up against the cold wood floor.

“Why don’t you start the fire? I’m going to get some blankets.” I tucked the hair behind my ear, practically running to the staircase. He nodded, not that I could see it, but the silence confirmed that he had forgotten that I couldn’t truly see his nod. That along with a soft hum of approval from him.

“Oh, and Conrad.” He hummed again. His eyes glistened in the moonlight, shining brighter than any other object standing in the hallway. He waited on me patiently, slowly inching closer.

“I told you so.”

The best of blankets and pillows sprawled put along the living room floor helped to further nestle us against the foot of our white couch. The snowfall and the storm felt less like an inconvenience but a gift.

I was reminded of my childhood. Of first snowfalls and broken ice skates. Red noses and icy hair. I remember how even after the facade of perfect holidays and new years kisses faded into nothing more than a dream, how my heart still soared with excitement each coming fall. How I couldn’t wait to see the snowy powder decorating my front lawn. I get reminded of why I drove so long to see Conrad. Of his warm hugs and his soft mittens. Wearing his hats and stumbling around in the backyard. I feel less hurt by the company than I once did a few days ago. I feel blessed that by some miracle, fate had string Conrad and I back together. That his hands would forever paint my hands in a gentle love we only held, and his whispers of senseless jokes he mumbled tiredly were only mine to laugh at.

The fire crackled, roaring feverishly through the night. The snow and wind pounded against the sides of the house, and despite the chills running through my toes and my fingers, I felt warmer inside than before, rekindling our inside jokes and fueling ourselves for even more.

Soon, our soft laughter and ongoing conversations died out. Our eyes glued to the flames, I tried to catch a glimpse into Conrad’s eyes. I wanted to know what the fire would look like reflected into his blue eyes. Instead, I caught his gaze locked onto my face.

I felt embarrassed, in a way. Vulnerable under his gaze. I felt my cheeks heat up and my body tingle. I felt like a school girl again.

“Y/n/n.” He called for me softly. The only way I was sure that he’d even said it was the fact that my eyes were so trained in his pink lips. I nodded slowly.

“Why did you come down here? Why now?” Even though the question was serious, I couldn’t help but to smile at his curiosity in my life.

Taking a deep breath, I watched his flat face turn into a welcoming grin.

“Lately, I’ve just been caught up in the past, I guess. I’m just so used to coming home every winter to Steven and Belly in the living room already fighting. And my dad and mom arguing about what decorations playfully.” Conrad laughed like he could picture it. He’d never really been in my house during the holidays. Sure, the Fisher family would stop by every few months when the distance became too much, but holiday’s were usually spent apart.

“I guess when I came home this year and that wasn’t there, I kind of freaked a little. I mean, Steven just left, Belly was too caught up in her own life to care about what I wanted to do, how much time we had left. My dad was too busy to stop by and…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I almost allowed the words to slip, how the final straw was that even with the mess of my family, at least at one point I had Conrad. I had his gentle hands and his quiet promises to hold onto. When everything went to hell, it was like losing the last bit of peace. “I wanted to be somewhere I wouldn’t feel alone, I guess.” I replaced my words with this. Hoping he’d understand how much he meant to me, how much all of it meant to me.

The single puff of air coming harshly through his mouth in a sigh reminded me just how close we were. How I could feel each word falling from his lips fanning over my shoulder. We were sharing a blanket, so close yet our bodies so far.

“Y/n.” He sounded more serious. During my confession, I found a home in the floorboards. Feeling safer confessing to the air than to a man who destroyed me not so long ago. My eyes hesitated to meet his, but I could see just how serious he was.

“I regret what happened between us more than anything I’ve ever done in my life. I know I can’t reverse that, but please never say you are alone. I swear to you, no matter what, I’m there.” It was rare to hear such thing from Conrad. Maybe a grunt of a hug to assure my feelings were always appreciated. But I could see the sincerity in his face, his voice was dripping with guilt. He meant it, every word.

Nodding my head, I silently thanked him. I watched his eyes search my face. How his lips parted but shut quickly. He decided against continuing, but it was like an unspoken apology was being said between us in that moment.

With gravity pulling us together, it was only in my nature to protect my heart. I had to rip us apart before I gave in without knowing if we’d ever be the same. If I kissed him and it was just a winter fling, I couldn’t take another heartbreak.

So, in our silence, I moved my hand between us. The pad of my thumb brushing away the charcoal from the fire dusting just under his cheek. I watched how he shivered and backed away, eyes fluttering shut. All while I bit at my lip, delicate in the way I rubbed away the dust.

“Are my hands cold?” I remained focused in on him, my lips curled into a smile seeing his reaction to my touch, how he shivered but didn’t complain. He nodded his head slowly, but his eyes were still closed.

I saw how his eyebrows furrowed, it wasn’t from discomfort, but in the low light it was hard to tell. My hand curled away, ready to ease the coldness off of his skin. I didn’t expect his own hand to cover mine, holding it against his now rosy cheeks.

“Feels nice.” He mumbled almost drowsily. His eyes still hidden behind his eyelids, his other hand found mine aimlessly, gently pressing it to his other cheek. I felt his weight sink into my palms, reveling in my touch.

The band suddenly snapped. All the tension, all the build up. He was right there, so eager, so gentle. I had to know if he was still the same boy I loved not too long ago. He had set me up for an old joke.I always wondered if I could still joke with him like this. It still gnawed at me some nights.

“It’s because you’re cold hearted.” I expected him to laugh, I hoped he would. But instead, he smiled just as genuine as his old laughter, melting into my touch more than I thought he could ever. I hadn’t been able to predict what he would tell me. Couldn’t have read his lips even if I could see into the future.

“For everyone else, maybe. But not for you.” He was as honest as a man could be. With his eyelashes fluttering open, I could see it in his eyes now. How they looked back at me wide and awake. I felt my stomach flip. There was something there I had previously missed. Dancing along with the glowing of the fire in his irises, was the same spark he once carried when I was his and he was mine.

I didn’t even get to challenge it, teasing him and making him repeat his confessions. My lips stuttered on the first syllable, just before his hands smushed my cheeks with the force of how he grabbed me. He was firm, but not aggressive. He could never hurt me.

His lips molded against mine perfectly in my mind. He tasted like mint and hot chocolate. My hands tangled in his hair, his palms flat against my waist. With so little space between us, so much fever and pent up frustration, air became harder and harder to get. With each touch of his fingers, it was like tiny fires being sparked across my body.

He hadn’t even had to tell me what he felt then. Neither did I. In that moment my walls crumbled beneath my feet. All resistance was gone. In Conrad’s grasp, I felt less alone.

I knew it then. To Conrad, my mind games I played on myself, my temper and the storms that would inevitably cloud up my sunniest days, the fact that I could never give him peace did not matter. We would always be enough.

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher angst #conrad x reader #tsitp conrad #conrad x you #tsitp s2 #tsitp x reader #tsitp x y/n #fisher x reader #team conrad #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x reader

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chicinsilk · 2 years

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US Vogue November 15, 1955 ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

(Top) The dress that smartens up luncheons, cocktails: charcoal-grey flannel with a high-to-the-eye waistline. By Rembrandt, of Stevens wool flannel. Creamy Wear-Right gloves. Hat, by Sally Victor.

(Below) To cut a dash through the winter, starting today: a narrow, lightly-shaped grey sheath with tiny sleeves (which double its use), no collar. Over it, a grey cardigan, banded with beige linen. Costume by Donald Brooks, of Sag-No-Mor worsted jersey. Costume, Alexette Bacmo gloves, Castlecliff earrings. Hat, by Sally Victor.

(Haut) La robe qui embellit les déjeuners, les cocktails : flanelle anthracite à taille haute. Par Rembrandt, de flanelle de laine Stevens. Gants Wear-Right crémeux. Chapeau, par Sally Victor.

(Ci-dessous) Pour se tailler une place dans l'hiver, dès aujourd'hui : une gaine grise étroite et légèrement formée avec de minuscules manches (qui doublent son utilité), pas de col. Par-dessus, un cardigan gris, bordé de lin beige. Costume de Donald Brooks, en jersey peigné Sag-No-Mor. Costume, gants Alexette Bacmo, boucles d'oreilles Castlecliff. Chapeau, par Sally Victor.

Models Evelyn Tripp & Anne St. Marie Photo Clifford Coffin vogue archive

#us vogue #november 1955 #fashion 50s #fall/winter #automne/hiver #american style #rembrandt #stevens wool #donald brooks #alexette #sally victor #castlecliff #evelyn tripp #anne st.marie #clifford coffin

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stylesnews · 9 months

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FLORENCE, Italy – As Steven Stokey-Daley’s fall show in Florence during Pitti Uomo wrapped, the British designer, the 2022 recipient of the LVMH Prize for Young Designers, revealed longtime fan Harry Styles is acquiring a minority stake in the company.

Financial terms of the deal were not disclosed.

“Harry and I have a shared vision for the future of S.S. Daley and we look forward to this new chapter together as we focus on brand longevity and scaling the business into a modern British heritage house,” the designer, 26, said.

The pair was introduced by Styles’ stylist Harry Lambert, who masterminded the wardrobe for the artist’s “Golden” music video, outfitting him in Stokey-Daley’s graduate collection.

The investment is geared at building S.S. Daley’s direct-to-consumer business and forge ahead with plans for a “sustainable and long-term expansion,” the company said in a statement.

After graduating from the University of Westminster, Stokey-Daley made his London Fashion Week debut in September 2021 supported by the National Youth Theatre artistic director Paul Roseby, staging a four-part performance by members of the theater, riffing on British tailoring and tackling such topics as social class, inequality, school life, sexual awakening and homosexuality.

That same year, the S.S. Daley designer was among the recipients of the British Fashion Council’s Newgen initiative and was awarded again by the British fashion governing body the following year, with the BFC Foundation Awards.

The designer’s gender-fluid take on the uniforms of the British upper classes, such as wide-leg trousers, argyle-knit wool vests and embroidered shirts, appeals to a Gen-Z sensibility, and a growing female customer base. The brand is currently stocked in a handful of retailers, including Saks Fifth Avenue, Dover Street Market, Matchesfashion, Bergdorf Goodman, 10 Corso Como Seoul and I.T Store.

Attending the S.S. Daley show in Florence, Sir Paul Smith praised Stokey-Daley and said: “I think that the ideal thing [for him] would be to try and work in parallel with a commercial company that help him develop as a commercial designer, as well as creative designer. And of course, that’s what everybody dreams of. He has the balance between commerciality and creativity.”

“I think [his designs] might have had similarities in my earlier [career]… We are in 60-something countries now. So you have to be a lot more aware of commerciality and things that work for the shops especially right now because the business and around the world is so difficult for people,” Smith added.

Styles’ investment falls in line with a growing number of celebrities becoming brand shareholders. They include, among others, Oprah Winfrey and Reese Witherspoon who invested in Spanx; Priyanka Chopra and Nick Jonas in skiwear maker Perfect Moment; Beyoncé, Jessica Alba and Rihanna in French accessories firm Destree; Mila Kunis, Cameron Diaz and Gabrielle Union in Autumn Adeigbo, and Mark Wahlberg in Italian sneaker brand P448.

#harry styles #jan24 #ssdaley

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sleekervae · 10 months

Text

New York Romantic .4

Masterlist

pairing: Tom Blyth x ballerina!oc

summary: tom finds noelle locked out of her apartment

word count: 5849

taglist: @watercolorskyy @carolanns-world @alana4610

warnings: alcohol consumption

Winter break was just around the corner, the days were becoming shorter but the assignments were getting longer. It was the final crunch before the holiday season and everybody -- even the professors -- were feeling the strain of long hours, chilled nights and the impending threat of black ice.

"One! And two! Up! Up! Steven! Lift your toes higher! You're a scorpion!" Stanis' voice boomed across the studio, a stark contrast to the gentle, peppy piano melody playing on the loudspeaker. He watched each of his dancers with a swift eagle eye, always the first to call out when someone was sloppy or off balance.

"Very good," he nodded as the music came to a close, turning then to another student in the second row, "Amber! Not so good. Are you okay?"

Amber, a petite young ginger, nodded sheepishly behind Noelle, "I was off balance," she admitted.

Stanis nodded, "Thank you... for stating the truth," he mumbled at the end, his accent someone becoming thicker the more he lowered his voice. He glanced at his wrist watch, then to the evening display just outside the window, "Let's call it a day, here! Go home! Ice your legs! Relax! We'll take it from the top tomorrow!"

The students had scattered before he could even finish, rushing to their lockers to grab their things and change for the frigid weather outside.

Noelle left with Iseul, the latter furiously texting on her phone as they walked over to their lockers, "How're you doing with the arts and poly paper?" she asked.

"Slowly," Noelle admitted, "How about you?"

"Like rubbing a cheese grater over my forehead," Iseul shrugged back, "It's all theoretical, philosophical nonsense I was hoping to leave behind in high school,"

Noelle cocked a brow, "You studied philosophy in high school?" she asked.

"To my chagrin, yes," Iseul simpered, "Take a note from me: don't send your kids to private school,"

"Noted," Noelle nodded, "Who're you texting?"

"Josh from modern. He's having a party next week," Iseul replied.

"After finals?"

"Mmhm. You wanna come with me?"

"What night?"

"Friday,"

Noelle grimaced, "We have showcase rehearsals til' six,"

"Yeah, but we also need a reason to let off some steam..." Iseul trailed off, feigning a pout her way, "Bianca will come,"

"I'll ask her later," they came to Noelle's locker, "Text me the details, I'll let you know,"

Iseul shrugged, walking backwards to her own locker, "Alrighty. Get home safe, Elles!"

"See ya tomorrow!" Noelle opened her locker and pulled out her bag, pulling out her sneakers, her jacket, digging through her purse for her transit card until she came to a harrowing realization.

She was missing her house key...

Tom had debated back and forth on going home for the holidays, it would be the first time he'd spend Christmas without his family and while he knew he would miss them terribly, the money was too much to splurge on -- on top of all his other expenses. He had finally found a job at least, a desk clerk at the library on campus. It paid minimum wage and he worked to the extent of his student visa, but earning some money was definitely better than having none. Plus it gave him time to focus on his own homework. The funds his mum had wired over definitely softened the buffer in his expenses.

He pulled his wool scarf tighter around his neck, his gloves doing little to ward off the frigid winds that had swept over New York. Not even crammed in a subway car with total strangers could warm him up. The weather had reported threats of snow but so far Mother Nature was holding out on them.

Doris had her feet propped up on her desk and a bowl of fresh popcorn in her lap when Tom ducked inside. Her eyes wide behind her glasses as she checked the time; 7:43pm.

"Hi Doris!"

"Well, well! You're home late!" she chided, a small smile playing at her lips, "What was her name?"

Tom chuckled back, approaching the desk, "Wasn't that kind of night. I was working," he replied.

"Oooh! That's right! I forgot you're a part of the system now!" she awed, "Well, don't let them push you over! If they give you any trouble you send them my way!" she pointed a bony, French manicured finger at him.

"No problem," Tom grinned back, "What's the plot tonight?" he pointed to her computer.

Doris enthusiastically sat up in her seat, passing him the bowl of popcorn, "Oh! It's Days of Our Lives! Stefano gave Marlena mind-altering drugs while she was sleeping, and he whisked her away into this fantasy romance world. But she's so vulnerable in this state she becomes possessed by the devil himself!" she whispered at the end.

Tom cocked a brow, too amused by her mannerisms to point out how terrible a flop that plot line was. He nodded nevertheless.

"Sounds interesting," he chuckled.

Doris rolled her eyes, "Oh, don't shit with me. It's completely ridiculous I know," she chided back.

"Don't spoil it for me, yeah?"

"In your dreams, buster," she smirked back, "Hey -- what was that show your dad worked on?"

"Emmerdale,"

"Was it any good?"

"According to The Telegraph, yeah," he nodded.

Doris leaned over her keyboard, "Well, don't tell nobody, but my husband's second cousin's nephew just introduced me to pirating on these special websites. He's gonna set up a VPN for me -- whatever that is," she whispered, "I'm gonna give it a go!"

Tom simpered with amusement, "That's great. Lemme' know what you think," he started backing off, "I'm assuming the elevator's still down?"

Doris nodded with an exaggerated sigh, "When my brother's wife's cousin gets a hold of her son in law, they're gonna give me a discount to get it fixed. He's an electrician," she replied, "For now, you just gotta leg it,"

"No worries. Take care, Doris!" and he started for the stairs.

"Oh! Tom!" she called him back before he disappeared, "You wanna check in on that dancer across the hall from you? She lost her key today and who knows what time her roommate's getting home,"

Tom's brows furrowed, his curiosity simmering, "Noelle or Bianca?" he asked.

"Noelle. Poor thing was so dejected when she came in," she shook her head, "I offered her a seat to wait here but she's just sitting in the hallway,"

"Don't you have a spare key?" he asked.

She scoffed back, rolling her eyes, "If my husband wasn't so cheap, yes. But now I gotta get a new key made for her -- because that's not gonna cost him less,"

Tom nodded sympathetically, "No problem. I'll see you later,"

He hopped his way up the stairs, the textbooks in his bag weighing down on his shoulder but the pep in his step was surprisingly fresh. And sure enough, he found Noelle sitting in front of her door. Her eyes were closed, her bag a folded mess beside her and her phone clutched tightly in her hand. Tom was worried she may've been a sleep, but as he approached closer she opened one eye, sitting up and stretching when she saw him.

"Oh, hey!" she greeted groggily.

"Hi," Tom crouched down before her, and amused smile on his lips, "Did I wake you?"

"No, I was just resting my eyes,"

"I see," he nodded, "I've heard you had a day,"

She scoffed, shaking her head, "You don't know the half of it,"

He simpered, "What happened?"

"I don't know!" she shrugged listlessly, "I locked the door when I left this morning. Somewhere between 7am and 6:45pm I lost my key along the way,"

His brows raised, "You've been out here for nearly an hour?" he nearly exclaimed.

Noelle nodded, "More like forty-five minutes,"

"Where's Bianca?"

"Rehearsing for our Christmas showcase. I can't disturb her right now," she replied, "It's okay, I've just been watching shit on Youtube,"

He smiled sympathetically, standing up straight, "Well, I'm here now. So you can hide out with me until she gets back," he said.

Noelle smiled sheepishly, feeling her cheeks burn as his gaze bore into her, "Oh, don't worry about it. Bianca'll be home soon," she assured him.

"Forty five minutes is already too long," he reasoned, "I'll feel better anyway knowing you're not out here by yourself,"

She smirked back, "Aww, are you worried about me, Tom?" she teased.

He tried so hard not to smile, rolling his eyes in an attempt to cover it up. So he extended his hand to her, "I'm an Aquarius; a smart person told me we're stubborn about this stuff,"

Noelle rolled her eyes, though nevertheless she held her hand up for him to grab. Tom pulled her to her feet, grunting as the force shoved his back into the wall and Noelle into his chest. They paused momentarily, gazes fixed in a time lock, her free hand suddenly burning against the wool covering his chest. Bashfulness pulled at their lips as Noelle stepped away and dusted herself off while Tom adjusted his jumper and coat.

"Sorry about that," she chuckled.

"No! It's okay!" he assured her, "Are you okay?"

"I'm great," she picked up her bag, silently hoping he wouldn't pick off the pink tinging her cheeks, "After you,"

They stepped inside his loft, the room a little messier than what Tom would've liked but Noelle didn't seem to mind as she kicked her shoes off and sunk back into the couch, letting out an exasperated, heavy sigh. Tom laughed to himself as he peeled off his coat, to which Noelle pouted back.

"I can hear you, ya know," she called, mock accusation slipping from her tongue, "I'm glad my suffering is so entertaining for you!"

"My sincerest apologies," he simpered.

"Is Sunny here?" she asked, looking around the space curiously.

Tom shook his head, "He's out at a symposium tonight, some fancy composer I've never heard of. He'll be back in a bit. Are you hungry?"

"I could eat," she nodded, "What's cooking, Gordon Ramsay?"

Tom sauntered over to the fridge, swinging the door open as his eyes glazed over leftovers, and whatever sparse vegetables and random containers they had in there. All Sunny really had was his labelled orange juice, a six pack of fruit yogurt and some carrots -- while Tom barely had anything of his own in there. He really needed to go shopping.

"Alright, we're ordering in," he decided, coming to sit on the couch beside her, smiling coyly at her, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone,"

"How kind," she tittered, her head falling back against the cushion, "Whatever you feel like, I'm not picky,"

"... Sushi?"

"Love it,"

Forty minutes later they were both situated on the couch, Tom's laptop set up in front of them as BoJack Horseman played out on Netflix. They could hear the rain pattering against the window, the walls humming as the heat had kicked into high gear and in the moment the air held a nice, cozy warmth. The duo sat beside each other, his legs stretched out across the floor while she curled hers up close to her chest, shoulders just inches away from each other as they ate their dinner.

"So, what're you doing for Christmas?" she asked over the commotion from the show, "You going home?"

Tom shook his head, "Can't, I waited too long to book and the prices are ridiculous," he replied.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," she awed.

"Don't be," he shrugged back, "I'm just gonna stay here,"

She sat up abruptly, "Not by yourself, are you?"

"Yeah. Sunny's going home for a week. It's alright, though," he assured with a swift nod, "Doris was offering me Christmas dinner at her place -- with her husband, her second cousin's nephew, her aunt twice removed or something..."

Noelle chuckled softly, "Are you gonna' go?" she asked curiously.

"I don't know. I might just fake sick to get out of it," he admitted sheepishly, "What about you? You going back to Maine?"

"No, my family are coming down. My uncle got a bonus at work so they're staying at the Ritz," she flourished her hand in the air, feigning an expression of shock and awe.

Tom laughed softly, "Sounds lovely,"

"Right? My aunt's all excited," she popped an avocado roll into her mouth.

"Are you gonna' stay with them?"

"Probably. But they're here just for a week," she glanced back at him, "I'll be hanging around though, if you wanna go hang out here and there?"

Tom was flattered, a little taken aback, but he considered the option. Spending any more time with Noelle was surely a plus no matter the occasion, though on the other hand she didn't want to take her away from her family.

"Oh, I don't -- I don't wanna impose on your visit like that," he replied.

"It wouldn't be imposing," Noelle shrugged back, "I just... I don't like seeing anybody alone during the holidays... and you're kinda cool to be around, so..." she glanced aside sheepishly.

He cocked a brow, "Noelle Berendina thinks I'm cool? Gosh, my mum's never gonna believe me!" he gawked.

Noelle rolled her eyes, slapping his arm gently, "Yeah, you are cool, you friggin' dork! And anyone who says otherwise has to fight me!"

He smirked back at her, "You get locked out of your own apartment... but I'm the dork?" he chuckled.

She feigned a pout, crossing her arms like a child and sinking back in the couch cushions, "I'm not saying you're wrong... but you're so mean," she grumbled under her breath.

"Oh, you wanna see mean, do you?" he leaned over and snatched a yam roll from her box, popping it into his mouth with a shit-eating grin.

Noelle gasped dramatically, her hand gripping her chest, "You son of bitch! How dare you!" she gaped, "I'm gonna call up your mom,"

"So you're a tattletale now?" he quipped.

"Only when someone needs to be tattled on," she reached over and took one of his salmon rolls for revenge.

He feigned his own insult, shaking his head mockingly at her while his teeth clenched down on his inner lip, trying not to laugh, "Okay, okay, if I think about your offer can we call it a truce?"

"Okay, deal. Truce," she offered him her hand, giggling bashfully as he shook on it with her, "Anyway, how are you doing with finals?"

"Alright, actually," he shrugged, "I got a paper due, we're performing monologues, and we're having a small improv show on Friday,"

"Oh really?" she shuffled closer, "You do much improv?"

"I'm not too bad," he admitted, "It took a long time for me to be okay with looking insane in front of people,"

"Well, isn't that a major part of being an actor? You can't be the one-dimensional cool guy all the time -- ya know, unless you're Ryan Gosling," she replied.

"Exactly," he nodded, "The only one I'm kind of worried about is Jordan,"

"Ichabod Crane?" she smirked, "Stanis didn't like his cool-guy-with-back-against-the-wall attitude,"

Tom snickered, "He was just doing it to impress the other girls,"

"Really? You could've fooled me!" she gawked sarcastically, "He's only one in a long line of cool guys who tried to play it off in dance class,"

"I promise, he's a nice guy," he assured her, "He's just... I don't know,"

Noelle gave an endearing smile, "Well anyway, if I go to a performance, I'm more likely to go for you than for him anyway," she replied.

A warmth swelled in his chest, and Tom pondered his next words carefully before he spoke, "I know you have rehearsals Fridays, but would you like to come to the show?" he asked.

Noelle cocked a brow, mulling it over in her head. On her baser instincts she wanted to shout an enthusiastic 'hell yea!', but her own showcase was approaching quickly.

"Hmm, what time does it start?"

"Six, in the McCallum Pavilion,"

She nodded slowly, "I finish at six usually, but if I sprint I could make it a little after -- if they accept late entries," she replied, "I'm also supposed to go to this party after... but -- would you be down to come with?"

Tom was a little unsure at first, he was still shy, didn't know many people, and if a lot of these people were dancers then they may have been wondering why he was there.

Though it was as if Noelle could read his mind, "There's gonna be some other acting and music students there, not just dancers," she assured him.

"Alright," he nodded, "So, you come to the improv show and I come to the party with you after?"

She shrugged lithely, "Well, if you wanna' make it sound so transactional..." she feigned an eye roll.

Tom shook his head, "I didn't --" but he stopped when he saw her coy smirk. Rolling his eyes he nudged her, his elbow knocking gently into her side, "Shut up,"

"Make me," she shot back snidely.

He pondered it for a moment -- just a moment -- how close she was, her cocky attitude dripping off her tongue and her dark brown eyes goading him into mischief. His own eyes averted to her lips, it was only for a second, but he thought about how soft she might feel, how she may taste of soy sauce and ginger, and how quickly he should shut her up so easily.

But he didn't, he wouldn't dare step over that boundary so hastily. So his only retaliation was to steal another one of her sushi rolls.

Time became a lesser construct as the night went on. Sunny had come home around nine-thirty, exhausted and hungry as he kicked off his shoes. He didn't give a second glance to the mismatched laced sneakers at the door, only stopping when he sat the back of Tom's head peaking from behind the couch. Curled up beside him was Noelle, the both of them fast asleep in front of the rolling credits for BoJack Horseman.

Friday night rolled around sooner than many students would've liked. So many projects were due, so many deadlines were crossed and the majority of students were burning at the end of their candle.

The first year drama students had their first showcase tonight; an improv show that was only really open to family and friends. The McCallum Pavilion was a small studio space not often looked upon in conjunction with the rest of the campus, not even Tom knew of its existence until he was brought in for rehearsals. It was a relatively large space, dark indigo walls and dark, heavy hanging curtains that shrouded a risen platform. There was a single spotlight that was operated by a crew member and six rows of ten chairs set up before the platform.

By ten to six the chairs were already being filled, handfuls of faces that Tom didn't know as he peaked out from behind the curtain. The only face he could recognize was Sunny, his visage murky between passing bodies but he looked enthusiastic nonetheless. He kept his bag on the empty chair beside him and told people he was saving the spot for a friend.

"Tom!" his instructor hissed from behind, drawing him back from the curtain by his arm, "What're you doing over here? They're running warmups, we're on in ten minutes!"

"Sorry! I'm going!" he nearly tripped over himself as he dashed for the green room.

Simultaneously, Noelle had just stuffed her dance bag into her locker (ensuring her new key was safely tucked inside) before taking off in a sprint down the hallway. She had begged and bartered with Stanis all week to let her go early today, and after some pushing and kissing ass he eventually agreed. Bianca and Iseul were of course perplexed when she dashed out of the studio.

The entirety of the campus could be walked in about twenty minutes one way, but it was already five-to-six and she still had little idea where the McCallum Pavilion was. But her best start was the drama department, and from there she would have to figure it out.

Sure enough at the stroke of six the lights came down and the spotlight focused in on the stage. The audience gave a roaring applause as Tom's instructor, Charles, took to the stage. A portly older gentleman, he kept his hands clasped behind his back, smiling gleefully at the crowd through his thin-rimmed glasses.

"Thank you everyone! Thank you! I appreciate you all coming out tonight to support our first years. They've been working incredibly hard all semester to bring you this show, the first of many that they will be performing for a live audience," he was very soft spoken, though his voice carried a great range all the way to the back of the studio, "Our first performance I lovingly refer to as 'Change'. We're going to have two performers come up, an audience member gives them a scenario they have to act out. And when they hear 'Change!', they have to change the scenario on the fly. Please note, the audience is not allowed to shout at the actors, we have a designated 'change' person,"

Noelle had followed the campus map on her phone as best as she could, finally meandering her way down an obscure hallway and sure enough there was a sandwich board outside the door advertising for the show.

Tom and another student, Marcelle, were the first ones selected to come up on the stage. The audience cheered as they came under the spotlight, and Tom couldn't help but wipe his palms on the back of his pants, hoping his nerves wouldn't betray him.

He didn't hear the click of the door opening, nor did he see Noelle slip into the crowd and find her place next to Sunny. Sunny lit up as soon as he saw her and moved his bag.

"Hey,"

"Hi," they both whispered, "Did I miss anything?" she asked.

"You're just in time, they're starting," he replied.

An audience member was selected and Tom and Marcelle were given the scenario: two people in an old folks home trying to watch TV. Marcelle took a seat in the pre-positioned chair and Tom hunched his back. He started waddling over to Marcelle, his hand positioned as though he had a remote in his hand and his eyes were squinting.

"Marcelle?"

"Yes?"

"Marcelle, can you hear me!?" he squawked.

Marcelle was slightly hunched in her own chair, "Yes, I can hear you Tom!" she boomed back.

Tom turned to the audience, pointing his invisible remote at them, "I'm trying to change the channel on the television!"

"It's not on, Tom!" she snapped, agitation in her voice.

Then a voice behind the curtain shouted, "Change!" and Marcelle's dialogue switched.

"It's never been on, Tom!"

"Change!"

"It's a microwave!" and the crowd began to laugh.

Tom's face twisted in anguish, "It's a microwa- oh! Oh the crows feet is getting to me now!" he cried, shuffling back and forth like an old man, "I don't know left from right!"

"Change!"

"I don't know right from left!"

"Change!"

"I don't know to from fro!"

"Change!"

"I don't know if I have a fro!" and they paused as the audience laughed some more. Noelle and Sunny were plenty amused already at the debauchery on stage.

"You're bald!" Marcelle shouted back at him, obviously go for a bit, "For goodness sake, Tom! I've gotta find myself a new roommate! I'm making a complaint!" and she went to get up from her seat.

"Change!"

And she sat down again, "I'm gonna sit right here, and hope that you die quickly!"

Tom gasped in horror, bemusing the crowd even more, "Marcelle, why are you always so mean to me!?" he cried.

"Change!"

"Why're you always so lovely to me?" and he perked up immediately.

"Change!"

And he sauntered over to where Marcelle was sitting, "I would like you to tell me a story," and he looked to the audience, "About me when I was younger. What was I like before I was bald?" on his last word his gaze fixed on Sunny, and then Noelle right beside him. He swallowed a nervous chuckle, unable to help but grin like a fool nonetheless.

Marcelle sighed heavily, slouching in her chair and dropping her head back before he stared up at Tom, "You were a brave man --!"

"Change!"

"You were a coward!"

"Change!"

"You were an electrician!"

"Change!"

"You were a pilot!"

"Change!"

"You were a storm trooper!" Tom had his hands on his hips, nodding as he looked quite pleased with that answer. Noelle couldn't help but laugh along with the crowd, drawn in by Tom's charisma and pairing unhinged behaviour.

"Change!"

Marcelle huffed, "You were the type of man who leaves his wife at the altar!" and the audience let out a round of hissing and ooohs. At that Tom's demeanour changed, picking at threads of shame and dismay. Though he was doing everything in his power not to laugh.

"Jesus Christ!"

"Change!"

"Son of a bitch!"

"Change!"

"Lovely biscuit!"

"Change!"

"My mother!" he suddenly shouted, his voice breaking towards the end. Marcelle bit her lip as not to laugh as well.

"What about your mother?" she asked.

Tom turned back to her, "I can see --"

"Change!"

And he jumped back, waving his arms as he looked around, "Oh my gosh! I can't see!"

"Change!"

And he straightened his posture, "H-How dare you remind me of that!" he shouted at Marcelle.

Marcelle came forward in her seat, "She was my sister!" she shouted back, "She never got over it!"

"But you're my wife, Marcelle!" he exclaimed.

"And she never forgave me!"

"Change!"

"She forgave me quite quickly!"

At that Charles came out from behind the curtain, closing the scene. Tom and Marcelle took a bow and were ushered off the stage to make room for the next pair. The scene was no more than under two minutes but Noelle was plenty entertained. She was captivated, utterly amused, and pleasantly surprised by Tom's performance. She hadn't imagined he could be so dramatic and comically absurd for the life of her.

As the curtains fell on the captivating improv show, the buzz of excitement lingered in the air. People spilled out, chatter filled with laughter and lingering anticipation. Tom had linked up with Noelle and Sunny afterwards, the both of them singing his praises.

By the time eight o'clock had rolled around, Tom, Noelle, and Sunny had made it across town to the house party. Josh, a second year from modern contemporary, was a close enough acquaintance that he didn't bat an eye when Noelle came strolling in with her friends.. Within the confines were ten or twelve other kids, all within their age. Some of them Tom recognized as the other ballerinas, some he knew from his own department. The house smelled distinctively of air freshener and hot food, pizza from down the street no doubt. There was a stereo somewhere blasting hits off of Billboard's Top 100.

"Hey!" Bianca's voice suddenly boomed, "You made it!" the blonde ballerina threw her arms around Noelle, nearly falling into her in fact as her socks slipped on the varnished hardwood. Noelle chuckled, though she could smell the bitter tang of vodka and ale coming off her breath already.

"Yep. I told you," Noelle said, pulling her upright on her feet, "B, what time did you start drinking?"

"Right when I got here,"

"And that was...?"

"Oh, about six-thirty," she replied with a drunken giggle.

"And you couldn't wait for me?" she gawked back.

Bianca ignored her, her hazy focus then zeroing on the boys behind her, "Oh my gosh! Tom, you came!" she suddenly had her arms around him in a tight hug, it was the most attention she had paid to him in the time they'd known each other.

"Hi Bianca!" he chuckled, a little taken aback at first.

"And Sunjit, too!" she then went into hug Sunny, "You never come to these things!"

Sunny smiled bashfully, shrugging his shoulders. Truth be told, he didn't think he'd really fit in with the dancers and actors, "... I just figured, it's the end of the term, so..."

Bianca's face lit up, "Then, we have to get you a drink. Come on!" she took his hand and lead him off in another direction. Tom and Noelle glanced at each other, he had a bewildered grin on his face while she was shaking her head.

"That's the friendliest she's ever been with me!" he awed.

She chuckled sheepishly, "Her demeanour usually melts with some vodka,"

Regardless of Bianca's lightweight mannerisms, the kids dispersed through the party, slowly getting to mingle and chat with the other kids. Tom had gotten acquainted with a few more students from different departments, he had made the acquaintance of one particular musician, Connie, a saxophone major in her third year. However, he found his gaze kept shifting, always searching out for Noelle's face in the crowd.

He eventually spotted her on the couch, engrossed in conversation with another guy. He had seen him around a few times, another dancer but he wasn't a ballet major. He could see how she laughed, how her shoulders bounced and her eyes fluttered, so entertained by whatever joke the other guy was telling her. Tom didn't like feeling jealous, he knew he had no right to be so but he couldn't help himself. Resent was bubbling in his gut, on the skim of it was insecurity because this guy was quite attractive. There was an aura of self-assurance surrounding him that Tom longed to possess. He aspired to captivate and amuse Noelle just as effortlessly as this person did.

"Hey, Tom," Iseul suddenly appeared from behind him, "You okay?"

Tom glanced at her, nodding swiftly, "Yeah, yeah, I'm good,"

Iseul's gaze fixed on Noelle and the other boy, and her face fell, "That's Daniel. He's a hip hop dancer, but the professors call him 'slack-ass'," she mumbled, "Honestly... I think Noelle could do way better..." at that she turned her gaze back to Tom, a coy smile teasing at her lips.

At one point a game of truth or dare had broken out, silly, juvenile questions were asked and immature, embarrassing dares were completed. When Tom was put on the spot, he should have known better than to trust Josh, the host, and his precarious questions.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Josh practically howled with laughter, doubling over himself and nearly falling off the couch with laughter. Iseul glowered, about to tell him off but Bianca beat her to it.

“Shut up, Josh. It’s not that big of a deal,”

Josh sat up straight, looking down at Bianca as she sat on the floor. He wiped the tears from his eyes, his laughter finally dying down, “Hey, I’m your senior – you gotta’ talk to me with a bit more respect,” he prodded teasingly, but Noelle only rolled her eyes, her previous lighthearted spirit vanishing upon Josh's insensitive comment.

Her tone was excitingly stern, but not rude, “Yeah? I’ll show more respect when you show more respect to your juniors...”

Iseul laughed, shaking off the flurry of red in her cheeks, “Don’t worry about me, B. I don’t think I can take Josh very seriously, not when I highly doubt he’d even know how to make me or any other girl cum,”

The circle of friends in the basement erupted into comical ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’.

“Ouch!” one of Josh's friends said, leaning across the floor to high-five her.

Josh stuttered, failing at serving a good comeback, “It’s okay, Josh,” Noelle laughed, her sympathetic tone condescending, “maybe there’s a tutorial online,”

“I know how to make a girl cum!” he snapped. Everyone just laughed, even Tom and Sunny, ignoring him and carrying on with the game.

"Iseul, it's your turn," another girl, Monica, reminded them.

Iseul's dark eyes flitted across the bleary faces of her friends. In that moment she singled out Tom, partly because he had gone unnoticed by others and partly because she was feeling mischievous. "Tom, truth or dare?"

"Truth," he answered confidently, to which another kid jeered at him.

"Hey, boring! You chose truth last round, man!" he pointed out.

"So what?" Sunny asked from the couch, squished between Iseul and another music student, "Let him do what he wants,"

Tom's primary instincts urged him to stick with the truth. However, he found himself contemplating that Iseul was a genuine sweetheart — how bad could her dare really have been?

"No, it's alright," he assured Sunny, turning back to Iseul, "Let's do dare," he tried to ignore Noelle's coy smile from his left periphery.

"I dare you to kiss Noelle," nope, he was very, very wrong.

"W-What?" he stuttered.

"What?" Noelle was suddenly attentive; her eyes widened, her lips stiffened with a mix of surprise and hesitation.

“With tongue, and for 10 seconds,” she added. In that moment, Tom took back every kind word and thought he ever had for Iseul.

“Wait, wait, don’t I get a say in this?” Noelle asked, her pretty gaze nearly overwhelming as she turned to Tom.

Josh began to make chicken noises, flapping his arms and bopping his head. Meanwhile Bianca was trying desperately to hide her giggles behind her solo cup.

"Either you do the dare, or you take a shot," Iseul reminded him

Tom looked back at Noelle, who was still looking at him. Instead of arguing with Iseul and letting her have more fun, he ignored her and softly asked, “Is it ok?”

“-- Sure” she smiled reassuringly – her confidence flooding his system with surprise and ardor.

With each beat, his heart raced, a relentless drumbeat echoing within him. He had experience with some other girls, yet the mere anticipation of her tender lips against his provoked an intense surge of excitement. The thought of her soft touch had his heart yearning to break free from the confines of his ribcage, making the moment more exhilarating and daunting at the same time.

His lips met hers tentatively at first, but Noelle's hand found its way to his neck, pulling him closer. They were locked in a more natural, passionate embrace. As their lips melded together, his whiskey-flavored lips meeting her cherry ones, a surge of anticipation coursed through them. Amidst the faint countdown from Bianca and another student, the surrounding sniggering served as a backdrop to their shared moment. Fuck.

Tom pulled back, his eyes wide with embarrassment and his cheeks as red as blood. Noelle also seemed slightly surprised, her eyes sticking to his as they sat frozen in place. Josh's voice broke them out of the trance, “Seems that wasn’t such a bad dare after all,“

“Shut up,” Noelle murmured while taking a swig of her drink, hoping the bitterness would wash away the arousing taste of Tom from her lips.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games #tbosas #original story #original female character #imagines #imagine blog

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lunareyes-shifts · 2 months

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🦋?

butterfly: describe your dr self!

Gosh, which one! I'll go ahead with my owl house one. I'm pretty neat, I think! My voice claim is Steven, from SU Future. I'm just human, but eventually I get some powers from a titan who died a little younger than the Isles, so I can do magic. I'm Luz's friend from the human realm, and we were having a sleepover the night before she leaves for summer camp. My parents are normally pretty strict, but I convinced em, cause I won't see my bestie for a whole summer.

Whoops!

I don't think there's a whole ton left to describe, I'm pretty similar to myself here, but here's some edits of me and fun facts!

My sweater is a witch's wool cape, but I am. clumsy. so Eda made it a sweater for me.

My palisman is a dandelion lion, and I haven't named him cause I feel like it'll be sweeter to connect and learn his name.

I multitrack asap! Abomination, Bard, Illusion, Healing, and Plant. My bard instrument, initially, is a saxophone but a kazoo is much easier to transport.

#reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting realities #shifting #reality shift #shifting community #desired reality #shifters #shifting to toh #shifting to the owl house #toh dr #the owl house dr

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awesomesaucesers · 5 months

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QUESTION ABOUT THE STEVEN UNIVERSE THING

how would nari react to suddenly having wool

what would their tail look like

you know how the lamb gets pissed when they lose at knucklebones and their teeth get sharp and their horns grow? what would happen when they are fused

follower reactions?

are they part skeletal? cus narinder got that whole shit

i think this is sooo cool bc like "a crown cannot sit apon two brows" ok made them one lol

what would their name be

bishop reactions?

this is soso cool could i maybe draw your au is that ok

He thinks it feels like a big fluffy beard. He doesn’t like it and likely tried shaving it once or twice.

Their tail looks like this! Kind of like a lions… it’s supposed to be naris tail with the lamb’s at the end

Full demonic mode. Ratau probably started going easy on them afterwards

They are suspicious, despite the Lamb’s attempt to keep Nari down in the cult

Nah not really, but they are a bit skinnier than the lamb.

5. Thank you!!

The Lamb had a lot of dumb name ideas, Narinder had a lot of ‘intimidating’ names. They settled on the Black Sheep.

Heket and Leshy sees it as an opportunity to kill both the Lamb and Narinder. Kallamar hates the fusion, it’s twice as scary and twice as powerful now. Cult Shamura doesn’t mind, but Bishop Shamura? Not exactly sure

8. ID LOVE THAT!!

Thanks for asking!

#cotl fusion au #cult of the lamb #cotl narinder #cotl the lamb #narinder

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 2 years

Text

Mirror, Mirror

Kinktober fic fest submission

Summary: Dina Brighton enters a masked sexy party for elites uninvited and has to escape. Dark!Erik x OC

Warnings: Smut, katoptronophilia, size kink, anonymous sex kink, breath play, knife play kink, degradation kink, BDSM, Dirty talk, cult, angst.

part four

Kinkober fic challenge moodboard one moodboard two part one part two part three

Erik stepped off of the crowded elevator and onto the twelfth floor, Saint Laurent black duffle briefcase in his right hand, wool and alpaca Cavallo blazer in his left hand draped over his shoulder, and a fierce look in his eyes. A series of Good Morning’s and hello’s welcomed him as he strolled past offices and cubicles. He didn’t return any of them, nor did he desire to. He was on a mission.

Erik finally arrived at his destination; Dina’s office. His obsidian eyes stared ahead into an empty office with no trace of her. The desk was cleared off, her cushioned swivel chair was neatly tucked in, and her name plaque was removed, leaving behind an empty space with a neat scattering of dust surrounding it.

Erik rested his bottom on the edge of Dina’s desk, retrieving his phone from his pocket again, calling her cell phone for the fifth time that morning. It rang five times before it reached her voicemail again. Erik closed his eyes and listened to her fruity voice. It felt like she was whispering in his ear.

Sorry I can’t come to the phone right now. Leave a message.

“Dina…listen…I’m sorry about what happened on Monday….I…I really want to talk to you in person…apologize properly…I didn’t know what I was thinking. Please, whenever you’re available, just call me back…”

Erik ended his attempted call.

A soft knock caught his attention and there stood Monica; the receptionist. She had a disinterested look on her face, as if even existing was a buzz kill.

“Mr. Stevens, I have a message from Dina. She asked for me to relay it to you. Are you busy?” Monica asked.

“What is it, Monica?” Erik stood up from his desk abruptly, earning a strange look from Monica.

“She quit.” Monica declared.

The corners of Erik’s lips turned down into a frown.

“Quit?” Erik echoed.

“Yes,” Monica sat into her hip, “She said that she finally landed that job she’s been dreaming about and she thanked you for everything. She also wishes you and Vivian a happy relationship…said that you two were made for each other?” Monica said.

Erik cast his eyes out of a window in Dina’s old office.

“Thank you, Monica.” Erik finally answered.

“…would you like for me to reopen the position?”

Erik turned his back on Monica, trying his best to hide his frustration as best as he could. Monica rolled her eyes, unfazed by his momentary breakdown. She’d been here before. Hire a new assistant. Predict how long they will last. Reopen the online application. Repeat.

“Yeah…” Erik finally answered.

He couldn’t accept this.

Sure, he could have declined Vivian’s kiss until Dina had left, but it was his way of showing her that getting romantically involved with him was indeed a big mistake and should never happen again. After successfully getting rid of Cora permanently, he went home that evening, took a cold shower, and laid awake for hours. He stared up at his darkened reflection, flashes of Dina’s smile, her sweet voice, her innocent eyes, that built body, and her troubled past crossing his mind.

He still couldn’t get it out of his mind. She was a parentless child. Her mother’s life was taken away at such a young age. Her father carelessly killed her mother and left Dina behind like she was nothing to him. The thought of knowing that her father got away with this had a fire burning so rageful inside of Erik. If it were Erik, he would have hunted his father down and done the same if not worse. But, that’s not who Dina is. She’d probably forgive her father. She’d probably still want a relationship with the only parent she has left.

Erik left Dina’s office, shutting the door quietly behind him. A familiar door across the hall opened, and Greg appeared in the hallway with an empty coffee mug in his left hand. He spotted Erik and lifted his chin in greeting. Erik returned the gesture, but Greg could tell that he was sulking over something. He followed Erik into his spacious office and shut the doors behind him. Greg watched his childhood friend slowly stroll towards his desk, the silence surrounding them unnerving.

“I’m gonna have to find a new assistant. Miss Brighton quit.” Erik said.

“Really? Did she say why?” Greg questioned.

“A better career. She got her dream job…”

Erik trailed off as if he wanted to say more but instead he opened his work laptop and began typing in his username and password.

“Doesn’t matter. Work still needs to be done, and I want to get as much of this shit done before I leave early today. Are you coming to the estate for an early celebration?”

Greg fixed the disappointment on his face and took a seat at the head of Erik’s sleek desk. His eyes scanned left and right, trying to come up with a response while his thoughts lingered on Dina. He finally looked up at his friend who was too busy on his laptop.

“Yeah, I’ll come up once I get things situated here in the city…gotta pick up my tux and cape for the evening…Dina did look pretty upset on Monday, E.”

Erik’s fingers slowed down from punching aggressively on the keys, he didn’t look up at his friend but Greg knew he was listening.

“…She was crying. We went to lunch and I tried to cheer her up but…she was really torn up about something…and I did see her leaving your office—”

“What do you wanna know, Greg?” Erik cut Greg off.

Greg shrugs, “Does it have anything to do with Vivian?”

Erik smirked.

“Let me guess,” Greg’s eyes narrowed, “Dina let you in, huh?”

Erik exhaled, reclined back in his chair, and stared into Greg’s eyes with a penetrating glare.

“You know…It’s really none of your business, bro.”

Greg chuckled, “You just gotta have what you want? You weren’t even into Dina until I said something that day. It’s like you gotta prove you can bag women and throw it in my face—”

“You wanted her? You wanted her, Greg? When you want something, you go for it, right? You make a move…and did you make a move? The proper move? I never said I wasn’t interested in Dina, not once did I mention that she never crossed my mind. I just chose not to make a move at the time—”

“And when I expressed my interest, you jumped on her. Call it what you want, man, but I know. You had her crying over you. Feels good hurting her feelings, doesn’t it? That’s all you do, bro. You don’t have it in you to love somebody—”

Erik stood up and walked around his desk. Greg raised up, meeting Erik, both of them ready to get physical if need be. Greg enjoyed toying with Erik. He knew what to say to get under his skin. Erik Stevens. He thinks he can get what he wants. Throwing money at everything. Doesn’t have to lift a finger. Erik smiled in Greg’s face menacingly, and Greg’s left eye twitched angrily.

Erik’s voice lowered to an ominous tone, “You know, it looks like you’re still not over the fact that I fucked your sweet, little sister…”

Greg shoved Erik and he stumbled back slightly, correcting his stance before fixing his blazer. Greg walked away to clear his head, exhaling deeply.

“What? You gonna hit me, Greg? Cut the bullshit. Listen, I did get in with Dina, and you know what else? She’s different. I like different. Nothing familiar about her. She looks past all the shit and sees me for me. Yeah, you’re right, I didn’t want to pursue her, but I’ve always had an eye on her…”

Greg looked back at Erik over his shoulder.

“Doesn’t matter now. She doesn’t want anything to do with me. You can put on your cape now and be her shoulder to cry on. Let’s see if she’ll give you some. You think you’re any better than me? We’re cut from the same cloth, G.”

Erik went back to his seat and watched Greg over the top of his laptop. Greg walked back to Erik’s desk to retrieve his mug, before turning to leave Erik’s office. Before he disappeared into the hallway, Greg glanced back at Erik, a mischievous smirk appearing on his handsome face.

“I just might do that.” He said.

The afternoon New York traffic gave Erik some time to reflect. He allowed the sweet melody of one of his favorite vocalists, Carmella Love, to serenade him while he gazed out of his window at the congested sidewalks and many cars practically bumper-to-bumper. He filtered out the road rage and excessive honking to enjoy her distinctive contralto voice. It’s husky, sultry, elegant and sexy. Definitely hypnotic.

He could only imagine how it felt to be in her presence. He’d only heard that she was an alluring woman. People capitalized off of her death, creating books and documentaries. He could remember one occasion in his earlier youth asking his mother what Carmella Love was like. He’d seen many group photos with his parents and Carmella from the late 80s to the early 90s. In every photo, Carmella’s captivating smile and seductive eyes stole the shine while his mother posed with a fake smile. She never stood next to Carmella and although they were just photos and you can’t really tell if they’ve had a friendship, it still felt distant.

Erik’s cell phone buzzed in his hand and when he checked to see who it was, he took a second to prepare himself before answering.

“Ma, good to hear from you,” Erik spoke.

“Son.” Victoria said.

“How are you?”

“…not so good.” Victoria said with a curt tone.

Erik knew where this was headed, but he wasn’t going to give in. He wanted to see if she would address it first.

“Did you need me to send more money?” Erik replied.

“Hm,” Victoria hummed, “I do need something from you…the truth.”

Erik’s lips went tight and he remained silent on his end.

“No? It’s the least you could do. I spoke with Cora’s mother. She’s hysterical.”

“I extend my condolences,” Erik said, “It’s really unfortunate what happened to her…really…I can’t imagine what her mother must be going through right now—”

“STOP IT! JUST STOP IT!” Victoria shouted, “I should have seen right through you when you apologized! You don’t have one remorseful bone in your body! I am disgusted! I had to speak to her mother and lie because of what you did!”

Erik glared, “What I did? How about what she did. You know me so well and yet you didn’t wait for me to leave to plot against my downfall. I heard the two of you talkin’. I did what I had to do…what I won’t hesitate to do to anyone that gets in my way…you of all people should know about that,” Erik spoke darkly.

Victoria remained silent. Erik knew his mother was panicking. Probably pouring herself another glass of wine.

“My own mother…still so bitter that I got everything and she got NOTHING. I can’t believe you. If you weren’t my mother, I’d kill you. My father did everything for you. Gave you everything. And this is what you do? Turn your back on your own child?!”

“I lost you as a child years ago, Erik! I put blood, sweat, and tears into that marriage! Your father treated me like dirt! And you are just like him!—”

“I’m your son—”

“MY SON IS NOTHING BUT A MURDERER WHO DOESN’T LOVE ANYONE BUT HIMSELF!”

“And you’re a drunk, conniving, bitter woman who never loved her son. You did not ONCE show me affection. You don’t think I wanted that?! You were too busy drunk and high out of your fucking mind passed out on the couch to even pay attention to me! Don’t blame me for what you failed to do! Feel however you wanna feel about my father, but at least he loved me. I can’t say the same shit for you—”

“DON’T YOU EVER!!!!!—”

“I’m not fucking finished,” Erik spoke through clenched teeth, “You chose to stay married to him. You chose to put up wit’ it. That ain’t got shit to do wit’ me. I’m not having this conversation anymore wit’ you, but know this…you hurt me. I can accept the fact that you resent me, but this? Plotting my downfall? Just all types of evil–”

Erik’s chauffeur beeping the horn made him remember where he was and that it was best to end this conversation. He had nothing else to say to his mother. And despite what she did, he still loves her. Erik blinked back tears and took a calming breath before speaking again. He wasn’t going to allow himself to cry. He’s tired of wasting tears on his mother.

“I am far from evil. I am disgusted. To see you become your father…it pains me. Cora loved you—”

“Cora ain’t love me. She was out here doing her dirt too, ma. She only wanted to marry me for gain. It was all a game to her. That’s what you fail to see. So concerned with who I should be with, and yet, you don’t know anything about me. You owe me an apology…”

“I will not apologize for planning to stop you! Maybe then, I could have my son back…the way he was before all of this,” Victoria said with a shaky voice.

Erik thumbed away a tear and frowned. He took the phone from his ear and ended the call without even saying goodbye. He couldn’t even trust his own mother. Would she even mourn him? The only biological parent he has left and she treats him as if she wants him to join his father six feet under.

Erik cleared all thoughts of his mother out of his brain and stared straight ahead out of the dashboard window to see what the traffic looked like. The city streets were packed like sardines. Carmella’s voice calmed him and his thoughts drifted to Dina again. Phone in his hand again, he googled the number to the Chanel headquarters in New York to inquire about a new hire. He needed some kind of positivity to overcrowd how enraged he felt.

The phone rang once and after pressing whatever buttons he needed to reach someone, the phone rang twice before a woman with an overly cheerful voice greeted him. She said that her name was Sarah and she confirmed that she’s responsible for hiring candidates. Sarah informed him that there have been over twenty new hires. Of course, she knew who he was and expressed that she would be happy to help him with anything he needed.

“I was wondering if you could tell me if there is a Miss. Dina Brighton among the new hires? last name is B-R-I-G-H-T-O-N. Dina with an I.”

“Sure! Is it alright if I place you on a brief hold?”

“Of course,” Erik rested his head back against the seat.

Elevator music played in his ear as he stared up at the roof of the car. Five minutes later, Sarah was back on the line.

“Mr. Stevens? Are you still there?” Sarah asked

“Yes. So? Any information?”

“Unfortunately, I did not find Dina Brighton hired for the position of Media Specialist. I even did an extensive search, just in case there may have been a different first name, or another position, and I still don’t have any record of us hiring her.”

A crease formed in Erik’s brow, “Not even a refused application?”

“No. We keep a record of everything. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

Erik was lost in a state of confusion that he lagged on a response to Sarah.

“Mr. Stevens—”

“Thank you, Sarah.”

Erik ended the call.

“Hey, change of plans. Head to Miss. Brighton’s apartment.” Erik informed his chauffeur.

Luckily they were closer to her place than his. Maybe, by the time they got back on the street, the traffic would ease up. Twenty more minutes rolled by and the driver parallel parked. Erik hopped out and jogged up the steps to the entrance of the apartment lobby. He located Dina’s apartment number and rang the bell to her apartment. Erik checked the time on his watch, noticing that he was running behind schedule. He rang the bell three more times and even called her again.

“Can I help you?”

A low and hesitant voice caught his attention and Erik turned to find a middle-aged black woman with short, curly black hair sprinkled with gray. She was dressed in a pair of slim-fit jeans, a worn graphic tee, a windbreaker jacket, and black converse on her feet. She had a leash in her right hand connected to the collar around the neck of a Husky.

“Hi. I’m trying to reach a friend of mine…Dina.”

The woman pondered for a moment before shaking her head full of type 4 curls, “I don’t know a Dina. I’ve been living here for some time…what floor?”

Erik checked and then responded, “Third floor. 3A.”

“I’m 3D. I know all of my neighbors,” She tugged on the leash to get her dog to stay still, “And Dina doesn’t ring a bell. Now…there is a young lady who shows up every now and then—wait—what’s her name—Adena—yes…yes. I know Adena. She lives in 3A.”

Erik gave the woman a perplexed look, “has to be the same person…what do you mean you see her every now and then? Is she not around often?”

“Who are you?” The woman questioned.

“My name is Erik.”

The woman studied his face for a while and then recognition crossed over her face.

“Erik Stevens. I knew you looked familiar.” She said with a smile.

Erik returned the smile, “What did you mean by every now and then? See, she works for me—worked for me, and I was worried about her. Hadn’t been able to reach her all day.”

The woman nodded her head in understanding, “Adena is rather quiet when I see her. Pleasant, but withdrawn. I work from home but I do leave my apartment often and I never see much activity from 3A. There’s always deliveries weekly, big packages, and you’d be lucky to catch her. I ran into her coming back from Starbucks one morning last week and she was taking a package to go…like she lived elsewhere. Some of the tenants here rent out their apartments but live elsewhere. I get the feeling that Adena doesn’t occupy that apartment on a regular basis. More of like…a home away from home.”

Erik scrutinized the apartment building, screwing up his face in deep thought. Was Dina a nickname? But then that couldn’t be, because he was certain her name was Dina, not Adena. Had she been lying to him the entire time? First, she never even applied for a position to work with Chanel as a Media Specialist — her dream job — and now, he discovers that Adena could be her real name and she doesn’t even live here.

“If you see her, could you please tell her that I came by to check on her?” Erik said.

“Yes.”

Erik descended the stairs, stopping to pet her dog before getting into his ride and driving off. As much as he wanted an explanation from her, he had bigger plans awaiting him that couldn’t be ignored.

The Stevens Estate was so christened by its first owner, landscape designer Robert Malone, Jr., a son of Italian immigrants who in the early 1920s enlisted the help of preeminent New York architecture firm Delano & Aldrich in designing it. Albany’s lushly forested and rolling landscape, evocative of the English countryside, has long been a place of quiet wealth. Since the early 1900s, members of New York society seeking to avoid the social spotlight of places like Newport, Rhode Island; Southampton, New York; or Lenox, Massachusetts, have gathered there.

Robert Malone, Jr., was born in 1887 to an old New York family. In 1921 he married equally socially prominent Hannah Elias Stevens, nicknamed “The Negro Enchantress” in the tabloids of New York City in the early 1900’s. She was one of the richest black women in the world in the early 1900’s. Although he began his career as a banker, he is best known for his later work as a landscape architect.

Malone designed the landscapes of other distinguished members of New York society, including the Westchester estate of Mr. and Mrs. David Rockefeller. He worked closely with many of the famous architects of the era, and when he decided to build his own country home in 1924, he hired William Adams Delano and Chester Holmes Aldrich.

After the death of Malone in 1950, Hannah continued to evolve the estate with the help of her prestigious family until her death in 1973. It wasn’t until the late 1980s, when the estate was in disrepair, that Joseph Stevens Jr., Hannah’s great nephew, set about restoring and updating the great old period mansion.

Joseph and Victoria Stevens lived about an hour north of Manhattan in a village that is to the suburbs as the navy cashmere blazer is to men's jackets. To call Albany a suburb is somewhat misleading; it is more like Manhasset or Old Westbury in the day of the Paleys and the Phipps. Zoning is generous, houses are hidden, and horses are welcome. It’s a mixture of opulence, luxury, and Hollywood movies.

The paved road gives way to dirt and gravel several miles short of the Stevens estate, which is surrounded by over 250 acres of rolling lawn and woods. Norman in style, stone and slate, it was built in 1919, and there is no reason to think it will look any different a hundred years from now. At 17,000 square feet it is big but not overwhelming; it feels appropriate and comfortable. The only clue to who is in the house is the car in the forecourt, one of a collection of classic sports cars that look as they did the day they were delivered a half century ago. In its later years, it’s been endowed with technology and also bullet-proofed.

As in an English "stately," the entrance hall is not overly decorated. The first of many oil paintings greet you, as does the scent of lilies. Throughout the house there are dense, formal arrangements of romantic white flowers—hydrangeas, imperial lilies, calla lilies—with old-fashioned scarlet-red roses tucked into them. Animal imagery, and the energy it imparts, is everywhere too, in pencil studies of lions and oil paintings of horses and leopards, and especially in the fascination with leather.

Stevens collect leather and African artifacts the way an anthropologist collects bones. It is almost always what you find yourself sitting on or looking at. Old briefcases and schoolbags are used as accessories. Hide, suede, alligator and croc turn up in every possible condition: nicely mellowed, worn to a shine, darkened from a century of fingertips, shaped to the human form, crumbling to dust. This is a museum.

Erik wore a pair of ivory chino pants with a matching polo and tinted aviator shades. He had his staff at the estate carry in his bags while he greeted his male cousins and old friends. All ten of them were standing around, checking out the vintage sports cars and bragging. Erik noticed that Greg hadn’t shown up, and he wasn’t surprised. They group spotted him walking up and all of them shouted his name, walking up to him, dapping him up and giving him a one-armed hug.

All of his cousins and friends do well for themselves. Although Erik was the most sought after, any woman would be lucky to even have a chance with any of them. Erik’s older cousin, the closest cousin to him, Raymond, who is a successful software developer generating millions of dollars, was the last to give him a hug. The last time Erik had seen his cousin, he was a groomsman in his destination wedding in Jamaica. That entire getaway was foggy to him. He spent most of his time drinking, smoking weed, and fucking bitches. He even had to get a taste of the bridesmaid he walked down the aisle with. That was the best time Erik had in a while.

“Look at you little cuz! Looking sharp!” Raymond said, “Ready for a wild night?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. How’s Fiona?”

“She’s great, you know I got a baby girl on the way. I’m excited about that.”

Erik smirked, “Congrats, Ray. That’s beautiful, man.”

Raymond walked alongside Erik as they followed the rest of the crew up the steps to the entrance of the estate. Erik’s butler, Amadi, an African man whose parents are from Yoruba, oversaw the traffic of staff walking in and out of the mansion. Alongside him is his late father’s personal assistant, Malia. She’s swiping away on her tablet while giving orders to the decorating committee. She’s wearing a gray pantsuit with a satin fuchsia pink top and black heeled sandals. Her long black hair is styled in a top not to complete the look.

“Hopefully it’ll be you someday, E.” Raymond said.

Erik chuckled, “Marriage? Nah, you know that’s not me.”

“Could be.”

Erik saw marriage as misery. Unhappiness. He’d grown up finding the idea of tying the knot laughable. It’s all smoke and mirrors. But isn’t everything in his life that way? embellishing the truth? His father always wanted something new; new car, new ways to make money, and a new woman. He wanted a woman at home to take care of his son while he dabbled. His mother was a train wreck with a temper and substance abuse issues. His father’s ego and his mother’s bitchy ways were always the result of screaming matches and physical fights. As Erik got older, most of the men in his life cheated on their wives. It was the norm. To Erik, none of them were happy. Why should he be?

“Erik, good to see you.” Malia greeted him.

Malia stared deeply into Erik’s eyes.

“Malia. Everything good?”

“Yes, just some final touches for the aerial dancers and we’re good to go. The only thing left to do is make sure the kitchen staff have the preparations for the full course. Amadi is handling that now. As soon as they’re finished, I’ll be on my way.”

“Thanks for the update. Life treating you well?”

“Definitely,” Malia beamed, “I took a trip to Ibiza for a week and that was an experience.”

Erik knows about her trip. She kept sending him pictures of herself. At first, they started out as group photos with her girls, then eventually turned into solo pics and selfies. Erik would sit back and wonder what she would taste like on his tongue, but he couldn’t see himself messing around with Malia because his father did often. If things were different, if Dina never slipped into his life, he would have added Malia to his list of women.

“Glad you had a good time. Listen, I really appreciate you for everything you do around here.” Erik said.

“Not a problem…you know I’m here if you need anything, Erik,” Malia concluded before walking away.

Raymond and the rest of the crew had left him standing there to get themselves settled in. They planned to go yachting for a bit before heading back to enjoy some cigars, liquor, and lunch prepared by the kitchen staff. As he walked through those grand doors and into the magnificent foyer with an imperial staircase and a piano, Erik removed his aviator shades and scanned the room.

He always got the impending nervous jitters before the Halloween Ball. With his father gone, Erik is now the leader of The Court of Aje and it puts a lot of pressure on him. They wouldn’t say it, but he knew that they would be looking at any chance for him to screw things up. Erik’s uncle, Frank Stevens; Raymond’s father, wanted to take over The Court of Aje, but with Erik being Joseph’s son, it automatically went to him. The Court of Aje is an aristocratic secret society that is a century old with immense power and influence embedded into the very architecture and history of New York City.

They worship a deity of prosperity and money known as Aje. In the Yoruba religion, Aje is a traditional goddess of abundance and wealth, often associated with the businesses of the marketplace. She is selective about where she grants prosperity; those who make offerings to her in the form of prayers and good works are often her beneficiaries. However, she is known to simply show up at the market stall of those she deems worthy of bounty and blessings. Aje often slips into the market unannounced and selects the shopkeeper she is ready to bless; once Aje enters your business, you're bound to make a profit.

Aje; supreme god of wealth; benevolent provider of all human needs. The Court of Aje meets up on the eve of Halloween every year to offer a sacrifice to Aje. After drinking the blood of the sacrifice, the rich and powerful men dawned in cloaks intoned mysterious chants before parading off with naked women and having group sex. Women in masks wander in the nude, accompanied by cloaked men in masks. They end up in a formal dining room or room of choice, where everyone is nude and having or watching sex. The celebration ends after 4am and everyone goes back to their lives as if nothing happened.

The first time Erik attended the Halloween Ball, he was fascinated. He’d always had a dark side to him, a side he could only keep private. The act of inflicting pain on others for personal enjoyment, typically of a sexual nature or receiving pain for sexual release. Erik Stevens is too many shades of gray with a sadistic character flaw to sexually possess, control, dominate, and debase women.

The mistreatment and abandonment of his mother made him feel unworthy of love. Being exposed to such a toxic environment, Erik would often experience frequent mood swings and bouts of anger. In his younger years, Erik would take out his aggression by getting into physical fights with students at school or anyone else who seems antagonizing. Victoria suggested therapy for Erik, but Joseph didn’t think his son needed help, that therapy was too judgmental and for those with mental health issues.

Erik’s first encounter with BDSM was at the age of 21 with an older woman named Kelis Smith, a friend of his mother’s and a Neurosurgeon. Erik used to have a no strings attached relationship in high school with her daughter, Sylvia Smith, until Kelis decided to make a move on Erik. Their affair consisted of Erik being her submissive. She confessed to Erik that she’d noticed his anger and thought he should learn to control it in ways that were enjoyable.

He was able to relinquish control, feeling safe, comfortable, and free; helping him channel his emotions in constructive ways. After three years, kelis’ husband found out about their relationship and furious, got into a brawl with Erik that resulted in her husband’s ‘unexpected’ death in a boating accident. Although their arrangement ended, Erik continued his BDSM lifestyle.

He wasn’t going to apologize for his sadistic ways. He decided long ago that it’s who he is. Joseph taught him to never feel sorry for himself. No woman he brought home to his sex dungeon had any complaints. Erik Stevens is presented as a rich, playboy, philanthropist who maintains his body in shape and has a good relationship with others but in secret he is an unstable, cold, calculated, homicidal, vicious and sadistic man.

Yesterday evening:

“Adena!”

Carmella rushed inside of Adena’s room to wake her daughter. Adena woke up while rubbing her sleepy eyes, trying to pay attention to what her mother was saying, but her body was too tired to comprehend.

“I want you to hide!” Carmella whispered frantically, “Don’t come out unless I tell you to. Don’t make any noise, understand? I want you to stay safe!”

“Mommy, what’s happening?” Adena questions with a sleepy voice.

Carmella pointed to a spot behind a mountain of Adena’s stuffed animals. Adena quickly crouched down behind a giant giraffe and laid on her side. Carmella tossed a few teddy bears over her daughter’s body and pressed her finger to her lips.

“Please, stay put right here. There are bad men here and I don’t want them to hurt you. Mommy loves you, baby.”

Carmella kissed her daughter on the lips and stroked her braided hair before rushing out of her room, shutting the door behind her. Adena’s eyes were staring into the darkened corner, heart pounding against her rib cage. She could hear a man’s voice and her mother arguing. Moments later, a shrill cry and tussling. Adena didn’t know how long she’d been lying there, but the bad men her mother told her to hide away from opened her bedroom door.

Light from the hallway danced across her pink wall, two shadows appearing on the wall when the door was fully opened. Adena covered her mouth to muffle her shaky breath. One of the men entered her bedroom, drawing closer towards her. Just when she was about to be discovered, a cold, dark voice stopped the man in his tracks.

“What are you doing? We’re not here for the child, Jonathan.”

“We can’t have any mistakes, Damion. What if the child knows who we are—”

“Stop talking,” Damion argued, “Let’s get out of here.”

Adena shot up in bed, inhaling deeply through her mouth as if gasping for air. She clutched her chest and then her fingers gripped the collar of her black satin slip. Sweat seeped from her pores and onto the sheets creating a large damp spot. Her eyes remained shut as she sat still on the edge of her bed, taking calming breaths to stop her heart from racing out of control.

It’s been sixteen long years since that night. Sixteen years since she’d discovered her mother’s lifeless body sitting in a bloody bath with her wrists slit. Her nightmares have gotten better since then thanks to her therapist, but the fury and obsession to make them all pay for what happened to her mother still remained. It blanketed her like a heavy downpour. When she’d finally opened her eyes, the pain in her chest dulled just a little, giving her enough strength to stand on her own two feet.

Dina was born Adena Brighton. Her mother is singer and actress, Carmella Love Brighton and her father is Damion Jones. Carmella had a secret relationship with Damion while he was married. Carmella also had a close friendship with Damion’s sister, Felicity, which is how she initially met Damion. Their relationship led to Adena’s birth which Carmella kept a secret from Damion. She didn’t want Damion to know about Adena out of fear of what he might do. He killed Carmella because she knew too much about what he was involved in. Although she swore to never say anything about the Stevens or himself, he killed her by staging a suicide. Her wrists were slit and she was left lying in the tub filled with bloody water.

Adena found her mother’s lifeless body and sat with her, confused and waiting for her mother to somehow wake up from a deep slumber. She was only seven. Felicity, her aunt, raised her up until the age of eighteen when Adena found out about her mother’s faked death. Felicity tried for years to keep it from Adena, but soon, she started asking questions that demanded answers, and it took for a heated altercation between Felicity and Adena for her to finally know the truth. She found out that her father, Joseph Stevens, The Mayor, and other corrupt men of power were responsible for her mother’s death. Adena felt betrayed by her aunt for keeping it from her, but she also understood why her aunt hadn’t gone to the police for help. They were all on The Stevens’ family payroll.

Adena became obsessed with wanting to kill her father. She also desires to take down The Stevens’ and the Mayor; Jonathan Montgomery. Adena remembers that name the night her mother was killed. with all the information she needed, Adena plotted what would go down in history as one the most successful take downs. While doing her research on the once Mayor of New York, Adena looked into his family. She knew that her aunt Felicity was a walking target for her father, so she couldn’t risk her life. She had to come up with another way to get into this secret Halloween Party. And what better idea than to befriend the wannabe Princess of New York.

Ruby Gianna Montgomery was born into Manhattan's most elite social circles to Paulina Porizkova, a Swedish-born model, actress, and well-respected New York socialite who is dubbed as a gold digger. Ruby attended Manchester Prep, a prestigious co-educational private school just outside of the city and lived on the Upper East Side with her mother and father who was the corrupt mayor of New York City; Jonathan Montgomery. She has three brothers; two older and one younger. Her first eldest brother; Caleb and younger brother; Patrick, are in politics, following in her father’s footsteps.

Ruby’s second eldest brother, Gregory Montgomery, Jonathan desperately wished his son had interest in the family business. Gregory was sent to Oxford and Harvard and almost never got any visits from his father. All Gregory wanted was to be accepted by his father but he refused to let him in because he had different interests than following in his father’s footsteps. Dina discovered that Gregory and Erik were friends since grade school.

The Montgomery House; the opulent Fifth Avenue town-house mansion, is where Ruby grew up. As Ruby came-of-age, she excelled in many academic fields and became fluent in the French and Vietnamese languages. Ruby also mastered the Piano and became known throughout the school community as a role-model and an inspiration to all parents, even though secretly developing addictions to alcohol and sex with older men. seduction and betrayal among the teenaged idle rich. She is beautiful, yet conniving and manipulative. She shows signs of possessiveness towards men when she doesn’t get her way with them.

After being home schooled since the death of her mother, Adena applied to NYU and majored in Business of the Arts with a minor in Global Arts. There, she befriended Ruby, which wasn’t hard because Adena’s passive personality attracted people like Ruby. It was a way for her to control them, like her minions. Despite the pure hatred for anyone like Ruby, Adena bit her tongue and held up the guise of a friendly, saccharine girl who’s an orphan and student juggling two jobs to afford her rent and car payments. Ruby ate that shit up like a delicious slice of black velvet cake.

Adena easily juggled her double life, hiding in plain sight, gathering scandalous information on the corrupt rich to use against them. She hunted down old classmates and ex-friends of Ruby’s and discovered that Ruby would do whatever it takes to win, even if that means putting someone in the hospital or throwing dirt on their name. She had a knack for creating a narrative about someone and causing others to turn their backs on them. After learning everything she needed to know about that fake bitch, Adena added her name to her hit list.

The view of Manhattan from her penthouse windows is what she loved most. It calmed her. City night. It's alive. The kaleidoscope of shimmering lights flicker in the distance as the starry sky sweeps over the city that never sleeps. It seemed like the clouds had gotten a sudden fascination with the moon and wrapped themselves around it. The moon's faint glow passed through them, coloring them white from gray.

Adena walked across the black vinyl plank floor to sit on her black, ceiling hang chair covered with a magenta pink fur throw with matching pillows and one cheetah-printed throw pillow. With her cell phone in hand, Dina swung back and forth, the magenta-colored LED smart lights in her room creating a peaceful ambiance.

Multiple unread messages and voicemails awaited Adena, but she didn’t plan on returning his calls or texts. Fuck him. Shame on her for even falling for him. That wasn’t part of the plan. At least she got him to feel some sort of remorse for what he did. Sure, Erik Stevens doesn't know how to properly express himself without being a complete asshole, but still, the fact that he kissed Vivian in front of her like that just opened Adena’s eyes again and put her back on track. That smile, those eyes, his voice, the touch of his lips, the stroke of his fingers, his scent, and that dick was a distraction.

No. Adena won’t let him get to her again. He’s persuasive, but she won’t succumb to his seduction. However, he did successfully succumb to hers and she didn’t even try. Yes, Adena isn’t that sweet, innocent, naive girl. That’s just an act. A part of her roleplay fantasy. What she enjoys more than anything is trickery. Dina isn’t her real name. It’s Adena. She doesn’t desire to be a media specialist. She’s a proud Dominatrix. Adena is sent money and lavished with expensive gifts by men who seemingly want next-to-nothing in return - it’s all about submitting to the dominant woman and relinquishing control.

It's this surrendering of power that is arousing. She inherited her mother’s siren abilities to seduce and destroy. Why not use those extraordinary powers to get what she deserves from men? It’s always been believed that it made evolutionary sense that a man be dominant and a woman be passive. Men were to fight off rival suitors and other dangers and to procreate. Women were to contribute to this process by voluntarily subordinating to men. Men tended towards the aggressive and sadistic and women towards the passive and masochistic.

Times have changed as women are now somewhat freer to assert their dominance over men in all phases of life. The Dominatrix is a female archetype associated with a particular dress that depicts her role as a strong, dominant, sexualized woman. Black leather corsets, thigh-high boots with high stiletto heels, fishnet stockings, and a whip are familiar to most people.

Adena is aware of Erik’s secret lifestyle. His Sadist nature. Unbeknownst to many, Erik used to frequent an underground sex club for kinksters — The Siren — A club that Adena owns. She’s Headmistress there and she enjoys watching all the taboo activities from her private VIP behind a two way mirror. Erik would always show up alone and wearing a mask to hide his identity, something that mostly everyone there did to avoid being discovered. Adena found it laughable. She knew every single person that walked through those doors and into a sexually liberating world.

It could be a Pastor who preaches about the ugly in the world, or a Judge who just sentenced a murderer to life behind bars, or your child’s preschool teacher, or a man escaping his wife and kids to fulfill his sexual desires. No one knows who Adena really is, they only know her as Headmistress. There were times where she wanted to reveal herself to Erik, all the times she would watch him in one of the many sexual-themed rooms behind a two-way mirror. Adena grew to desire Erik and the way he dominated women. She wanted to be the one to take control of him.

The scenarios in her mind were not for the faint hearted. There were times where she pictured herself holding a knife to his throat with her 7-inch lace up platform heel pressed against his erection. She pictured him bound to a table with leather restraints around his wrists and ankles while she tortured him. All of those thoughts made her pine for him; yearn for him; wish for just one night to turn the tables on him.

It wasn’t just about the sex if she was being honest with herself. Adena had the pleasure of seeing the hidden layers of Erik Stevens; the happiness and the playfulness and the trauma. She felt as if they shared parts of themselves that not many people know about. Adena never told anyone about what happened to her mother, and yet she felt compelled to share it with him. When he revealed to her how unloving his mother is, she wanted to hug him.

What really struck her was how close her father and Erik are. It angered Adena how much Erik was like his father. Damion and Joseph exposed him to this lifestyle at such a young age that Erik knows nothing else. There were things about Damion and Victoria that Adena discovered. How they have had a secret affair for years. That Damion wanted revenge on the Stevens Family. That would shatter him, and although Adena wants to bring him down right along with her father, she felt that Erik needed to know. He needed to know that Damion was coming for him next.

It’s a big day. Despite the swirling gray clouds in the sky and the chilly wind, New Yorker’s had places to be and people to see. Before Adena left the city for the day, She planned to make a stop at her Midtown West apartment, and that was her first destination. Adena entered the building wearing all black; black turtleneck, black slim-fit jeans, black platform Doc Martens, and a black oversized longline coat.

Adena walked up to her mail box, opening it with her key. She peeked inside and noticed several Cartier gift boxes. Each box varied in size from small to large. Adena assessed her surroundings before retrieving all of the boxes, making her way towards her apartment quickly. With the key in the door, loud barking startled her from across the hall and when she looked up, she noticed the woman living in 3D leaving her apartment wearing active gear. Her light brown eyes spotted Adena and she waved at her.

“Hello, Pamela,” Adena replied.

“How are you, darling?”

Adena placed a firmer grip on her anonymous gifts, “I’m doing alright. You?”

“Oh, you know…just taking it day by day.” Pamela said.

“That’s good to know,” Adena forced a smile, “It was good seeing you—”

“A young man stopped past here earlier today looking for you…a rather famous young man…Erik Stevens. He said that you work for him and that he’s been trying to reach you.”

Adena was halfway into her apartment when Pamela mentioned Erik. She slowly glanced over her shoulder at her neighbor, wary eyes landing on her.

“…He said that he wanted me to let you know that he stopped by to check on you.”

Adena blinked her eyes away and stared down at the Cartier boxes in her hands. Who else would send her gifts to this address besides her aunt Felicity?

“Thanks, Pamela,” Adena replied, “I appreciate it.”

“No problem, Adena.”

Inside her apartment now, Adena walked over to her usual spot on the couch to open her expensive gifts. The first red box with the fancy gold script had a pair of gold hoop earrings in it, the second box had a beautiful trinity white gold and yellow gold bracelet, and lastly, the larger box was an elegant case filled with different Cartier perfumes. A small card with typed words rested on top of the perfumes, and when Adena lifted it to read, she noticed right away that he’d sent her this.

Adena,

Knowing how well I want to treat you, and knowing how I wound up treating you, I am completely ashamed of myself. Please forgive me. I know saying that I am sorry just does not sound good enough, but I really am so sorry. Please forgive me and give me a chance to express to you in person how sorry I am. I know this probably is not the best apology ever, but I just can't think straight knowing I hurt you. I am really so sorry.

Despite everything, Adena couldn’t help but feel smitten with him. It wasn’t the gifts, because Adena owned many Cartier, it was his devotion to winning her back. But, she couldn’t. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this between them. She sniffed the perfumes one by one, taking in the notes and thinking about how he chose these fragrances specifically for her. If only things were different. If only he wasn’t a Stevens.

Adena placed her gifts on her coffee table and stood to retrieve her secret box from her dear friend, Ruby. In order to enter this elite party, Adena needed to bring her invitation and the dagger. Despite her lengthy preparation for this very night, Adena couldn’t deny the nervous jitters. Felicity revealed to Adena everything that goes down at the Halloween Ball, but she’d never experienced it. Getting past the door was her main concern. Would they make her take off her mask? Did she have to show some other kind of proof that she was invited?

Adena strolled through her apartment that’s more kinky than its original purpose. While some people have private rooms in cellars and attics, Adena’s entire apartment is covered in all things BDSM. She needed enough space to use all equipment appropriately and not feel claustrophobic, unless claustrophobia is what does it for you. In her kitchen, there is a hanging contraption from the ceiling, cages and swings decorated her living room and guest bedroom, each bed had built-in bondages and restraints. Sensual lounge chairs and armless chaises in different textures and tufted, upholstered beds was her preference. All kinds of fetish and BDSM gear you could think of, Adena owned.

In her bedroom closet, Adena grabbed everything she needed — dress, shoes, accessories, and secret box— and left her apartment. Outside, Adena popped the trunk to her matte black, premium G–Class SUV, placing all of her things in there before getting into the car. It was going to take her a few hours to get from the City to Albany. Determination set in her features, Adena blended into traffic at the precise moment it began to rain.

The three hours gave Adena time to reflect on everything. She listened to her favorite playlist on repeat and rolled her windows down to allow the scent from the rain to waft her nose. All she could think about was how her childhood trauma molded her into the woman she is today.

We can often undervalue the relevance of our childhood experiences, “Adena’s therapist said, “We can also underestimate the effect childhood experiences have on us when we become adults. Childhood makes up the pillar we build our personality upon. It's our way of understanding the world around us, our relationships, feelings, and thoughts…”

Adena was exposed to a distressing and emotionally painful event. It caused psychological damage that took years for her to cope with. She has difficulty establishing healthy relationships because she constantly has her guard up and she’s unable to trust anyone enough to let them into her personal space. A hyper-vigilance resulting in her constantly mistrusting everyone around her.

She was able to do that with Erik, because he too is healing from trauma. The neglect from his mother in his childhood, the abuse, the constant fighting between his parents, and his mother’s substance abuse helped develop an unhealthy pattern. Adena is driven by her traumatic experience to seek revenge on her father and everyone else responsible. Erik is driven by unresolved anger and resentment. BDSM for both of them is a healing process.

In BDSM, individuals often focus on their breathing while they endure pain and other sensory play. Rhythm and repetition may be introduced through creating consistent rhythms in impact play or by having one of the participants count to a certain number while they do a certain task. It can be introduced in a lot of creative ways. It helps with her depression and anxiety. It gives her the upper hand and control.

After several hours, Adena arrived at The Argus Hotel and Cocktail Lounge, valet taking her keys and the hotel staff graciously loading her things onto a cart to take to her room. She booked a family room for the evening since she didn’t plan on staying the entire weekend. After retrieving her room key, Adena decided to grab a drink at the cocktail lounge. She took a seat at the bar, waving down a bartender. Adena ordered herself a whiskey smash and waited only ten minutes before a radiant, expensive looking woman with voluminous hair swayed into the lounge. She spotted Adena sitting at the bar and joined her. They both embraced each other for a long time. It’s been months since they’d seen each other.

“Aunt Felicity,” Adena said, smiling fondly, “You don’t know how happy I am to see you.”

Felicity pulled Adena into another hug.

“I missed you too, sweetheart…so much,” She looked at Adena with glossy eyes, “Look at you! Just as beautiful as your momma…”

Adena smiled, “You look great too, auntie. London is treating you well I see.”

“It could be treating you well too if you decided to stay with me.”

Felicity ordered what Adena had and they took their drinks to a private booth to sit down and have a chat. Felicity removed her red peacoat revealing a champagne-colored satin blouse and high waisted, wide leg black pants. The low lamp light above them casts a yellow glow against their skin. Felicity removed the cocktail straw from her drink and took a sip from the rim of her glass, leaving a red lip stain behind. Felicity looked at Adena with sad eyes. Adena knew what she wanted to say so she sat waiting patiently.

“Adena, you know you don’t have to go through with this. I’ve told you more than once that it isn’t safe. But, I also know that I can’t change your mind.” Felicity whispered.

“Then you know that this is what I want to do, auntie. They deserve to pay, all of them.” Adena spoke with determination. Her voice went from sweet and silvery to provocative and soothing; her usual voice.

“Even Erik Stevens?” Felicity questioned.

Adena sat in silence staring across the table at her aunt’s accusatory expression.

“You plan to kill him tonight as well? Or do you not have it in your heart anymore?”

“…I plan to end his life as well,” Adena said with the most captivating voice, “Do you doubt me, auntie?”

“No. I don’t doubt you. I know you’re more than capable…I just wish I could be there to protect you.”

“If you step foot in there, they’ll kill you, aunt Felicity. I can’t have that. They already took my mother away from me, I won’t let them take the only real family I have left.” Adena argued.

Felicity released a shaky breath.

“And you think I’ll allow any of them to hurt you? I promised your mother that I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Going in there is like walking into a lion's den. They will not show you mercy, Adena.”

Adena leaned into the table to talk closer, “I will not show them mercy. I’ve waited for this moment. Tonight is the night they pay for all of it. I’m not changing my mind.”

Felicity’s eyes fell to her hands. She blinked back tears quickly before meeting Adena’s eyes again.

“Didn’t you say that there are weapons lining the walls?” Adena asked.

“Yes. Plenty.” Felicity replied.

“Good. This dagger won’t be enough. I need something bigger,” Adena said before a wicked smile graced her lips.

“You better come out alive, Adena. Or so help me God I will run in there after you. I’m serious, Adena—”

“Do you need a reminder of what my father did to you when he thought you tried to give him up for what he did to my mother? He beat you close to death. You were in the hospital for MONTHS after that while I was taken care of by some woman I hardly even knew. Every time I came to visit you, I thought you were going to die. Do you know how hard that was? After what happened to my mom?”

The adrenaline coursing through Adena’s body made her blind from the amount of tears that escaped her brown eyes. Felicity sat very still across from her, her own eyes brimming with tears that she fought to hold back.

“No. You will not come looking for me. I’ve worked hard to get to this point. No man is strong enough to take me down, auntie. I’m built on rage and strength beyond what they’re prepared for. I’m naturally stronger than the average person, and it’s not because of my combat skills. I’m a siren like my momma. That alone will carry me through the night.”

“Hello?!”

Vivian sauntered into The Stevens Estate looking like a tall glass of milk wearing an all-white pantsuit with a white fur coat and Prada shades. Erik’s chauffeur carried in her things for the highly anticipated evening, waiting for someone to show up and take her things. Amadi appeared from a room with his hands behind his back and his chin held high. Vivian removed her designer shades and smiled excitedly at Amadi, but he didn’t return the smile.

“You must be Miss. Wood,” Amadi said, “Welcome to The Stevens Estate. We have been expecting you.”

“Thank you for having me,” Vivian spoke pleasantly.

Amadi grabbed her bags from Erik’s driver and stood before her.

“Follow me this way, Miss. Wood. I will show you to your room for the evening.”

Vivian looked around in wonder at the extraordinary home that belonged to the prestigious Stevens Family. She prided herself in finally snagging an invite from the man himself. She’d worked hard to get here, and to finally walk the halls with polished floors and pricey decor, she couldn’t help but inwardly cheer. Amadi led the way up one of the staircases to the second level. From there, he entered one of many guest rooms that was the size of an apartment. Vivian looked around with astonishment. The master bathroom reminded her of a royal bath house and the bed was fit for a queen.

“This is where you will stay. Mr. Stevens is quite busy at the moment entertaining guests, but there are some things he would like for you to do to prepare for your evening with the Court of Aje.”

Two young and very attractive women who looked like maids sauntered into the room. They both kept their heads bowed, waiting for their command.

“This is Alicia and Lucy. They will help you prepare for the evening.”

Amadi turned to leave and Vivian helped herself to a glass of complimentary champagne sitting on a gold platter.

“Hello, ma’am. We’ve been instructed to give you a preparation bath for the Feast of Feasts.” They both spoke in unison.

“The Feast of Feasts?” Vivian questioned.

“It’s the big dinner before the ball. There is a tremendous spread of food and it’s required for you to be full and hearty. You must dine naked and only wearing your masquerade mask.” Lucy said.

Alicia continued, “And before the dinner, we have to give you a bath infused with essential oils that help with your sexual energy. You also have to release that sexual energy…through multiple orgasms. It helps to get everyone prepared for the night’s festivities.”

Vivian downed the rest of her champagne and placed the empty glass back on the gold platter. Alicia and Lucy — both overwhelmingly gorgeous with their deep melanin skin and braided hair — approached Vivian at a leisurely pace. Vivian looked between the both of them, startled when Lucy began removing her coat while Alicia went to work taking off her clothes. When she was fully naked before them, Alicia and Lucy led Vivian into the bathroom. They instructed her to sit while they prepared the bath.

A jacuzzi tub began filling with bath water and Alicia and Lucy started pouring essential oils into the bath. Lavender, sandalwood, and ylang ylang. They topped it off with white rose petals and burned incense. Vivian stood from her seat and walked over to the bath so that Alicia and Lucy could help her in. The water was hot and the oils against her skin felt therapeutic. Vivian was instructed to lay back while Alicia and Lucy massaged her body. The smell, the touch, and the taste of champagne on her tongue woke up her sexual desires as if they were hibernating.

Vivian was stunned to feel both of their hands between her legs, rubbing along her folds softly. Vivian thrust her chest out and her nipples began to pebble. A pair of lips wrapped around her left nipple and her eyes shot open to find Lucy sucking on her tit. Alicia was busy circling Vivian’s clit with her thumb as she watched Lucy feast on her hard nipple. This isn’t Vivian’s first rodeo; being with a woman. She’d explored many times before. She just didn’t expect this to be a part of the equation. However, she wasn’t complaining.

“What are you both doing?” Vivian asked with a quiver in her voice.

“What we must do, Miss. Wood. You see, it’s our job to help you relax and release. The essential oils are an aphrodisiac when inhaled before and during intimacy. You’ll need to prepare yourself for what’s in store for you this evening.” Alicia said.

Vivian swallowed spit. If this was just a crumb of what she would be getting herself into, she couldn’t wait to see what else was in store for her. She sat in that bath and allowed Lucy and Alicia to taste and touch her body. Vivian held her tongue, but deep down she wanted them to join her. Take off their clothes and climb into the bath so they could explore each other’s bodies.

“Miss. Wood, it’s time to go back to the room where we will finish what we started,” Lucy said with a soft voice.

The water sloshed as Vivian stood up and stepped out of the tub. Still dripping wet, Lucy and Alicia led her over to a leather tantra chair within the room. Vivian was instructed to sit closer towards the edge with her legs spread wide. Vivian did as she was told, curious as to what was going to happen next. Both women dressed as sexy maids got down on their knees between her legs and without hesitation, spread her outer lips. The heat radiating from Vivian’s core caused both women to release audible moans before they inched closer. Their curled tongues dragged slowly over her inner folds.

“Oh, Fuuck!!” Vivian whispered.

They were such good pussy eaters.

“You have to stay still, Miss. Wood. It’s required that you cum from our mouths first before we insert the vibrator.”

“What?—”

Vivian hissed when Lucy began flicking her bud with the tip of her tongue. Alicia pressed her own appendage against Lucy’s and went to work making that clit as stiff as it can get. Vivian’s perfectly implanted breasts propelled forward as she arched her back from the chair. She reached forward and placed her hands on the backs of their heads.

“Yes! Just like that, shit,” Vivian’s toes flexed, “Fuck, yes!”

When her clit was nice and fat, Alicia lunged forward and wrapped her juicy lips around its stiffness before Lucy could. Lucy simply giggled, sitting up on her knees to finish tasting Vivian’s breasts.

“Mr. Stevens informed us that this is a fantasy of yours, Miss. Wood. As beautiful as you are, I couldn't resist the urge to see for myself what Mr. Stevens spoke so highly of.” Lucy revealed.

Alicia popped her clit out her mouth, “It’s true that you have a big clit…and you taste so good, Miss. Wood.”

Vivian remained speechless but the overflow of lubrication from her opening and the hardness of her nipples was enough to let them know that she was enjoying everything. Alicia switched places with Lucy to let her suck on Vivian’s clit but Alicia inserted two fingers into Vivian’s pussy. Vivian’s hips bucked in unison with Alicia’s fingers pumping in and out of her. She looked from Lucy sucking on her pussy to Alicia thrashing her wet tongue on her nipples.

“You both are gonna make me cum!” Vivian shouted with ecstasy.

“Good,” Lucy groaned, “Cum as much as you want, Miss. Wood.”

“Do you hear her pussy, Lucy? It’s soaked,” Alicia spoke with astonishment.

“Let me see,” Lucy dipped her fingers inside, “Mmmm…so warm and wet.”

Alicia giggled with her two fingers in her mouth.

Vivian felt heat creep up her body and her inner thighs quaked with her release. Milky white ejaculate flowed from her opening and down the crack of her ass. It didn’t matter how overstimulated she was, Alicia and Lucy were in awe of her pussy and the taste of it.

Lucy licked her fingers clean and Alicia spread Vivian’s pussy open so she could see everything clearly. The sheen of sweat on Vivian’s tawny skin looked just as tasty as her cum. Alicia stood to retrieve something from a drawer while Lucy tongue-fucked Vivian.

“You can’t get enough of this pussy can you?” Vivian said.

“Neither will the others,” Lucy smiled.

Vivian’s clit jumped at that.

Alicia returned with a bullet vibrator that is remote-controlled. She brought the egg-shaped toy to Vivian’s creamy entrance and began inserting it. Once inside, she tested out which setting would be best and settled for a low rumble that will keep Vivian teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

“With her cum covered lips, Lucy spoke, “Soon, Amadi will be here to retrieve you for a feast before the ball. Me and Alicia will get you prepared after dinner.”

Alicia and Lucy made their exit with the control to the vibrator in their possession. Vivian rested for an hour before being summoned to dinner. Within the dining room, there is a grand dining table filled with savory foods and desserts. Vivian was escorted in by Amadi, a long, pure white sheer robe draped over her visibly naked body.

Erik was seated at the head of the table, plate half eaten. He was wearing a fluffy black robe with matching black slippers and the family name embroidered on it. His locs are side swept and freshly twisted. From the opening in his robe, Vivian can make out a Cuban link gold chain resting against his pecs. Amadi pulled out Vivian’s seat at the other end of the table so she could stare across at Erik.

“Your kitchen staff made enough food to feed an entire army,” Vivian stated.

“How was your bath?” Erik questioned, ignoring Vivian’s previous statement.

“Lovely. And so are your maids…bed warmers I assume?” Vivian spoke with amusement.

“Did you not enjoy what they did for you, Vivian?” Erik questioned.

“I—I did. But—”

The bullet vibrator inside of her began to rumble and Vivian gripped the arms of her chair tightly while her knees buckled. Erik watched her from the other side of the table, chewing on a buttery roll. The fork in Vivian’s hand clattered to the table from the amount of writhing she was doing in her seat.

The vibrations finally stopped but the throbbing of her clit didn’t cease.

“No buts. Lucy and Alicia are great at what they do and they are well taken care of.” Erik said.

“I wasn’t trying to talk bad about them, Erik,” Vivian said breathlessly, “I was just shocked.”

Erik triggered the vibrator again and set it to a pulse setting that had Vivian jumping in her seat.

“Eat, Vivian. And drink your wine, you need to be well nourished for this evening’s events. Now…have you ever been properly slutted out before, Vivian…by multiple people at once?”

Vivian continued to squirm in her chair. She began moaning over her plate of food, unable to answer Erik’s question.

“Nod your head yes or shake your head no. Have you had sex with multiple people at once before. Threesome? Foursome? Orgy?”

Vivian looked up at Erik through flickering lids and an open mouth and shook her head no.

“Hmm,” Erik grabbed his glass of Hennessy, “Well, don’t I have a surprise for you, baby. You see, in order to properly be prepared for the Court of Aje, you have to be sexually liberated…free from social conventions or traditional ideas…”

Vivian whimpered into her glass of wine. Erik lowered the setting on the control and a shaky breath escaped her mouth. He knocked back the rest of his drink and stood from his seat. Erik walked over to Vivian with an empty glass in one hand and the control in the other. Her half-lidded eyes traveled down the length of his body until they fell on the bulge she could see in the front of his robe. She looked up at him again and pleaded for his dick to be in her mouth. Erik stepped away before she could grab him and walked around to settle behind her chair.

“No…tonight, you don’t get to suck me…or fuck me…you will be a sex slave to the Court…you will obey every rule of the Court…understand?”

Vivian rapidly nodded her head and Erik increased the vibrator to the highest setting. Vivian’s head fell back against the chair and Erik looked down at her. He could see her nipples straining against the sheer robe and smell her arousal.

“Words. Do…you…understand?” Erik demanded.

“Yes,” Vivian said.

“Good. Finish your food. Lucy and Alicia will be down to take care of you.”

Erik swept away with the controller in his hand while Vivian tried to enjoy her meal without thinking about what Erik had said.

“Well? What do you think?”

Felicity stood from her seat on Adena’s hotel bed and stared at her niece dressed in her attire for the evening.

“It’s…beautiful. Fitting for your mission,” Felicity’s eyes lingered on the dress, “Very dark.”

Adena turned and stared at her reflection in a body-length wall mirror. The dress is all black and sparkling as if doused in black diamonds. The sweetheart neckline and bodice fit her curves like a glove. A black, sheer, floor-length cloak draped over her shoulders and the hood covered her French twist updo. A silver and black full Venetian masquerade mask covered her face. She looked like she was attending a wedding for the underworld but in a glamorous fashion.

“Ruby will be expecting me to show up tonight wearing red…but black is more my fashion,” Adena said.

“Your mother wore red,” Felicity recalled, “Someone sent her an anonymous red box with a black and red masquerade mask inside of it…just like Ruby did for you.”

Adena recalled the red box that determined her mother’s fate. What is it with red boxes? It couldn’t be that easy…could it?

“…Why didn’t I make this correlation before,” Adena rushed over to the box, opening it frantically, “This can’t be a coincidence—but Ruby doesn’t know anything about me. She doesn’t know that Carmella Brighton is my mother.”

Felicity stood from her seat on the bed, “Well…I think someone does…I thought so for a while now…”

Adena cut her eyes at her aunt, “what do you mean?”

Felicity gave Adena a sorry look, “I was going to wait to tell you after tonight but we made a promise never to keep anything from each other again.”

“Yes, we did,” Adena clarified, “So, what is it?”

Felicity took a minute to gather herself before grabbing Adena’s hands, caressing them with her thumbs, “Victoria Stevens…and your father…had an affair together for years…before your mother came into the picture.”

Adena slowly nodded her head in understanding with a perplexed look on her face, “I remember you told me this…but what does this have to do with the red box?”

Felicity heaved a sigh, “Victoria is a jealous woman. She sabotaged any relationship Damion had, and she didn’t hold her tongue about how much she hated your mother. It was envy. She couldn’t stand the way Damion looked at her. She hated that your father would go back to Carmella again and again…she wanted her dead. Just like how she wanted Damion’s fake wife dead...and she got her wish.”

“Aunt Felicity,” Adena said, “Tell me. No more secrets.”

“…I don’t think Ruby sent this box, baby,” Felicity picked up the elegant box with the satin bow. She smoothed her hands over the top of the box, eyes never blinking, “This is the exact same box from all those years ago…I can tell. As much as Ruby may despise you for what happened with Erik…she doesn’t have the power to pull strings to get an exclusive invitation to one of the most strictly confidential parties.”

Adena’s heart beat rapidly as she stared at the box. She couldn’t understand how Victoria Stevens knew about her. She knew that her aunt Felicity wouldn’t have said anything. Damion would have found her by now if he knew. What was Victoria playing at?

“Wha—how–how does she even know about me?!” Adena said frantically.

“I don’t know, Adena. I don’t think she always knew. She probably hired a private investigator to find out everything about you. Has anything weird happened around you lately? Do you ever feel like someone is watching you?”

Adena pondered with fierce eyes, “No. I didn’t notice anything.”

“She’s trying to get rid of you…because of Carmella,” Felicity clenched her jaw and bared her teeth like she wanted to strangle someone, “She has some fucking nerve! Everyone who truly knows Victoria knows that she couldn’t have children. As soon as she found out your mother was pregnant, she did everything in her power to bring her down! She was so miserable and unloved in her own marriage that she had to go and have somebody else’s—”

“What do you mean she couldn’t have children? She had Erik.”

Felicity tilted her head at Adena and shook her head. Adena took a few steps back, dropping her mask onto the carpet.

“Wait…Erik isn’t her child?”

Felicity hung her head and turned her back to Adena, walking away towards one of the windows with her arms folded. Adena stood there, staring at her aunt's back, waiting for her to laugh or say gotcha! Felicity ran her hands through her voluminous hair and exhaled.

“Victoria had suffered from multiple miscarriages with Joseph. It made her depressed and damn near suicidal. Joseph resented her for it, he was out doing his dirt, sleeping around, and beating Victoria whenever she talked back to him. She wanted a child so badly…and finally found the opportunity…to make Joseph happy.”

Felicity veered back to look at Adena as she spoke, “A young mother put her baby up for adoption…Simone was her name…Simone Merryman. She was a rape victim who had gotten pregnant and she was looking for a well-off family to take her newborn baby in. Victoria jumped on the opportunity and to no surprise, so did Joseph. He wanted a son to carry on the legacy of The Stevens Family. Blood or not, he took Erik in and raised him to be his rightful progeny. The only ones who knew the truth were Damion and me.”

Adena was stunned into silence.

“I shouldn’t be unloading this onto you right now, Adena, but I just…I can’t keep things from you anymore. I’ve been in hiding, and I feel like I haven’t been a very good aunt to you…a guardian. I feel like at times I’ve been so caught up in my guilt that I forgot about my responsibilities. And now look, I’m letting you walk into this party alone.”

Felicity’s voice cracked and she tried to focus on her breathing but she was distracted with the amount of tears blinding her vision. Adena knelt down in front of her aunt while she was seated on the bed and stroked her tear-stained cheek. Felicity hung her head in shame, unable to look her niece in the eye.

“So many secrets...I just feel like I’ve let you down.”

“Auntie…hey…look at me,” Adena said with a soothing voice, “I love you. You are an amazing woman and a great parent. I couldn’t have asked for a better person to raise me after the tragedy that struck my life…so I don’t want to hear you beating yourself up about anything, you hear me?”

Adena rested her cheek against her aunt's lap and Felicity rubbed the tears away from her cheeks.

“No more secrets, no more lies,” Adena said with a trembling voice, “Is there anything else that you want to tell me? Please? I know you feel like you need to protect me, but I can handle it. You know I can. So please,” Adena pressed.

“…okay,” Felicity caved as if released from bondage, “I killed Joseph Stevens.”

Adena shot up from her aunt's lap and gasped so loud the people sleeping next door could probably hear. She pressed her hands against her mouth and took a few steps back from her aunt. Somehow, this news was more shocking than finding out that Erik Stevens is actually adopted.

“I was in town here in Albany…Joseph somehow found out that I was back, probably somebody that I thought had my back told him…anyway…he found me staying at a boathouse that I rented and things got heated,” Felicity balled her fists in her lap, “He tried to kill me, Adena! I–I–it happened so fast! we were in his car and it was raining and I grabbed the steering wheel and he was flooring it—”

Adena rushed over to her aunt and grabbed her hands.

“We hit a tree and he went flying out of the windshield, Adena,” Felicity’s lower lip trembled and tears streamed from her eyes, “I was stunned. The only thing I could think of doing at that moment was getting out of there. I called the only person I knew would cover this all up…your father.”

Adena closed her eyes and a single tear cascaded down her left cheek. She’d always wondered why her aunt hadn’t spoken to her for a while after that.

“Damion helped out with everything. I had a few cracked ribs and a dislocated shoulder. Damion was…happy. He was thrilled to find out that Joseph was finally gone. Happy that he did what my family had always wanted…bring them down one by one. I actually thought he would leave me there to die…I wanted to tell you…I should have told you.”

Adena grabbed her aunts hands, “Forget about that. I’m just glad you’re here with me.”

“I’ll always be here with you.” Felicity spoke gently.

Felicity pulled Adena into a tight hug and watched as her niece walked away to retrieve her masquerade mask from the floor. She followed Adena’s movements to the side table and noticed that she’d checked the time. Adena’s expression hardened and her back stiffened before her eyes fell on her aunt’s.

“It’s time to go, aunt Felicity. Are you ready?”

“Are you?” Felicity asked.

Adena thrust out her chest and squared her shoulders before giving her aunt a firm nod.

Instead of driving up to the frontage like the other guests, Felicity arrived at the Stevens Estate and parked her black sports car down the hill so she wouldn’t be spotted. Adena stepped out of the car with her mask on and a small, black sequin handbag that carried her invitation, dagger, and cellphone. She promised her aunt that she would be back and walked away towards the open gates leading to the mansion on a hill.

Her anticipation and eagerness pushed her up the hill. She wasn’t tired, she was more than energized. Adena was ready to fuck shit up. Show these bourgeoisie people what being a Brighton is all about. Adena’s four inch heels click-clacked against the cobblestone as she made her way past the iron gates, rounding a large, tiered water fountain and stopping at the bottom of the steps leading up to the front entrance of the three story mansion. Two burly guards wearing pitch black cloaks and decorative wood masks colored black and gold stood before the doors as still as statues.

Adena gathered the bottom of her gown and took her time ascending the stairs. As soon as she made it to the top landing, one of the guards stepped forward abruptly, stopping Adena before she could even take another step forward. His calloused, beefy hand stretched out and Adena looked from his open palm to her sequin bag. She unzipped the handbag and stuck her hand inside. With the folded invitation in her hand, she placed it gently into the masked guard’s hand and waited with baited breath.

The guard opened the folded invite and brought it up, examining it through the tiny slits in the mask where his eyes are. Adena tried her best to remain calm but her left brow began to sweat. The guard before her raised his head to peer at her, then turned to look over his shoulder at the other guard. They both nodded their heads before he turned back to face her.

“Password?” He said with a muffled voice.

“Fidelio.”

Both guards stepped aside and Adena stared straight ahead past the double doors and black drapery. Adena hesitated for a moment, a small part of her afraid to walk past the barrier. The thought of entering the place filled with people responsible for what happened to her mother made her ill. But she knew she had to keep going. She knew she had to find Damion…and Erik. As she proceeded forward, a part of her felt sorry for him. That part also didn’t want to kill him, but there is no other way.

Adena’s trembling fingers parted the black velvet drapery, and she crossed over into a room filled with masks, black cloaks, nudity, Aerial dancers, and rumba dancing. Some masks were elaborate and feathered, some were made with intricate craftsmanship as if carved front steel, and others were very freakish and creepy; fitting for Halloween. The room was dimly lit and suspended from the ceiling were aerial dancers twirling on black and gold acrobatic silk that glided through the air creating a beautiful show.

There had to be at least one hundred people in attendance —more men than women — and the men wore black cloaks while the women were either dressed in formal wear to match their masks, or nude. Cigar smoke clouded her vision and there was an abundance of alcohol being passed around for everyone to get a taste of. Each time her mink brown eyes swept the room, a new scene would play before her. There were young women ushering horny men to a spot to play out their exhibitionist fantasies. Couples swapped spit while fondling each other on the dance floor.

What really had her attention was a woman wearing an all white masquerade mask and a matching old Hollywood feathered white robe as pure as snow. She was currently sitting upon an all black throne chair with each of her legs draped over the arms of the long back chair. Two men wearing back slacks, a white button up with the sleeves rolled up, and full face, gold Venetian masks held each of her toned legs back by her slender ankles while her wrists are tied with white silk behind the chair. Another man dressed in a cloak and a plague Doctor Venetian mask was holding a wand vibrator to her pussy that had her moaning loudly.

The spotlight above the woman put her on display for everyone to enjoy. The man between her legs glided the vibrator over her swollen bud one last time before pulling away so a long and heavy stream of squirt could release. Her inner thighs quaked out of control and she didn’t look like she had it in her to cum again. Her head dropped forward but her legs remained open and another man stepped forward carrying a drill with a 12-inch dildo attached to the end of it. Adena was happy her face didn’t show. With the head of the silicone dick inside of her, he started the drill and the dildo spun and whirled around deep in her overworked pussy at an inhuman pace.

“Look at her pussy! Isn’t it beautiful!”

“The sacrifice is perfect!”

“Make her squirt again!”

“I’m fucking her next!”

The woman looked as if she would fall into a coma. There’s no telling how many times she had an orgasm. Adena knew all too well what that felt like. The bow tie arm position with the frog tie leg position was one of many bondage positions she was tied up in when she was apprenticed to a BDSM couple for a summer. Adena could recall many times of almost blacking out from intense rounds of overstimulation during her training with the couple.

Adena didn’t stick around long enough to see the woman in white cum hard and hopefully a final time all over that 12-inch dildo. Instead, she made her way towards an open bar where she ordered a drink and kept her eyes focused on her surroundings. She noticed many Venetian mirrors lining the walls, which wasn’t surprising considering Erik being a Katoptronophiliac; having a kink for mirrors. Adena scanned the room full of people and spotted Ruby chatting it up with Mark and another man. It wasn’t hard to recognize Ruby with her half masquerade mask. She’s wearing a stunning long gown in rose gold set by its V-neckline in thin straps. The curvy and body-lacing fit traced her body contours, showing off her beauty on the surface level. The fitting silhouette flared down the hip, shaping like the mouth of a trumpet.

Mark wore a simple pair of black slacks and a white button down with a black cape tied around his neck that made him look like a 17th century vampire. He completed the look with a white phantom of the opera mask. The mystery man chatting with them wore an all black tux with a silver full masquerade mask on his face. Adena knew exactly who that was. She walked away with her drink in hand, eyes on her like she was the main attraction. She stared openly at the man in the silver mask until he could feel her looking and when he met her eyes Adena turned away.

So far, she hadn’t spotted her father or Erik anywhere. She was impressed that she’d made it this far without being questioned about who she is, but that didn’t take away from the anxiety she felt of being discovered. She noticed people climb the stairs to the second level, curiosity getting the best of her as she climbed the stairs. The attendees occupying the stairs parted for her like the Red Sea, whispering and pointing, wondering who was under that mask.

Finally, Adena arrived on the second-floor landing, and her eyes scanned from left to right. Two long hallways leading to many doors with walls decorated with art and collectibles. She decided to go left, walking at a slow pace, making sure she wasn’t being followed. The music faded as she made her way down the hall, her eyes scanning the walls. She noticed that most of the art and collectibles are African. Pictographs, Petroglyphs, vases, sculptures, and tools made from stone and bone. There was a variety of African weapons including spears, shields, clubs, swords and knives that are placed in protective glass curios.

A male voice suddenly could be heard coming from a room with double doors and brass handles so Adena slipped into an empty room that looked like a guest bedroom and waited to see who was coming. After a minute a male figure wearing a hooded black velvet cape with a long train and loose linen black pants that were tight at the ankles and bare feet. As her eyes ascended his body that she could tell was solid and well-proportioned from his bare chest and v-cut, she noticed various gold chains hanging from his neck and then a flashy all gold masquerade mask with wings that reminded her of the wings of Horus shielding half his face. The braided back locs, thick lips, and gold fangs told her the identity of the man straight away.

Adena froze. This would have been the perfect opportunity to strike, but she couldn’t move. Erik turned around and began talking with another man and the deep baritone of his voice filled her with rage. She peered between the crack in the door, and her eyes fell upon her father. His voice was hushed so Adena couldn’t make out his words. This brought her back to the first time she’d seen her father in person that day at work. Adena is quite the actor with years of preparation to finally face her father. Inside, she was screaming and imagining herself standing over his mangled body.

She thought up so many ways to kill her father. Slow torture, gun-shot to the head, a knife to the throat, poisoning, fire, any and every way to murder him. Now, she just wanted him dead no matter how she got the job done. When they finally walked away, Adena exhaled a breath she hadn’t noticed she’d been holding. Her hands were clenched into a tight fist.

The aerial dancers had gone away and what’s left is the black and gold silk billowing around the room. The ballroom darkened except for the spotlight illuminating the center of the floor. Everyone in attendance formed a circle, silently awaiting the arrival of their cult leader. Adena had snuck back downstairs at some point during the party and blended in with everyone. The sexual activities came to a halt momentarily for what looked like an important transition in tonight’s festivities.

Straight across, two burly, cloaked guards with wooden masks opened two grandiose doors that led to the back of the estate and in walked Erik Stevens, Damion trailing behind him. You could hear a pin drop in the ballroom with how quiet and still it is. The acrobatic silk hanging from the ceiling brushed over Erik’s shoulders as he strolled forward with an intimidating gait. Adena could even feel the presence of him deep within her bone marrow. As soon as he appeared in the center of the lit circle, the woman in white joined him wearing a satin white gown with a train.

Erik stepped aside and allowed the woman to occupy the center of the lit circle while he slowly moved around her, as if sizing her up. The woman nervously locked eyes with him each time he appeared in front of her. Adena felt someone grab her hand, and when she looked over her shoulder, she recognized the mysterious man that was talking to Ruby and Mark earlier. His silver masquerade mask is reflective and she could see her cautious eyes staring up at him. With one gloved hand, he pressed his finger to the mouth of the mask, signaling for her to remain silent.

“You have been chosen by Aje herself for the evening,” Erik stopped in front of the woman, “And tonight…we make an offering to Aje…our goddess of abundance and wealth. She choses who is deserving of good fortune…”

Erik stepped aside, revealing the woman in white to everyone in the room again.

“Now…do you feel you are deserving of good fortune and status?” Erik questioned.

“Yes,” she spoke loudly and proudly, “I have worked hard to get where I am today.”

“Have you?” Erik asked, tilting his head in question, challenging her words.

Unsure, the woman nodded her head, “I believe I am. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been asked to join the court.”

Erik clasped his hands in front of him, “I never said you were a new member of the court…Vivian.”

Gasps and whispers filled the room. Adena looked around her and then back at the woman. When Erik removed her mask, Adena’s eyes squinted with recognition.

Vivian Wood.

“You crave power, money, fame…and yet you aren’t worthy of any of those things, Vivian. You haven’t been for years now.”

Vivian stood embarrassed by Erik’s claims, looking around the room trying to appear poised and confident.

“You’re washed up, Vivian. You look down on others around you as if you’re anything better. You use people for your own financial gain…”

Erik began circling her again, and this time Vivian began to cower beneath his gaze. The black cloak he wore reminded Adena of an imposing shadow and his winged mask made him look even more powerful.

“And don’t you dare lie. It won’t do good to lie…especially when you're the offering to Aje.”

“…offering? What do you mean by offering?—”

“Filled with libations and freed of sexual tension…you are more than ready to join the others before you.”

Vivian stepped back and when she did, the circle grew tighter. Her frightened eyes turned to Erik for an explanation, but he simply stood before her, looking down on her as if she were the scum of the earth.

“You’re the sacrifice, love.” Erik said with a menacing voice.

Vivian backed away and almost tripped on the bottom of her gown.

“A sacrifice! What?! Erik! What is this—what do you mean by sacrifice! How—How could you do something—what kind of people are you?! Is this some sick joke to make me scared?!” Vivian shouted.

Laughter filled the room and Erik raised one hand to silence it. Vivian looked from left to right then back at Erik, trembling with fear.

“A—After everything, you—you want to kill me? Am I really not worthy enough?! Do I really mean nothing to you, Erik?!”

“Vivian…we were never an item. I only got close to you, because it was a part of the plan. I knew that you wanted an invite to the Court of Aje…It was only a matter of time before you finally showed up.” Erik said.

Erik snapped his fingers and the guards that opened the doors for Erik seized Vivian’s arms. With their strength, they lifted her off her feet and carried her to the yard while she was kicking and screaming. The room erupted with sinister cheers and praises to Aje. Adena watched as everyone bounded forward, following behind their leader. The man behind her with the reflective silver masquerade mask gripped her left wrist tightly, halting her in her footsteps.

“What are you doing here, Dina?” He whispered.

“None of your business, Greg,” Adena whispered back through clenched teeth.

“I saw you…at the hotel…”

Adena turned to face Greg.

“Were you following me?” Adena questioned.

Greg didn’t respond as he led the way out of the ballroom and into the yard. Adena could see a raging fire and a large stone edging where the two guards tied Vivian’s ankles and wrists to. She was laid out like a sacrificial lamb, screaming and pleading for help. Beyond that is a hedge maze and a botanical garden. The full moon and swirling clouds made for a spooky evening above them.

“How do you know Felicity?” Greg asked with a hushed voice.

“…how do you know her?” Adena fired back with a question, “And right now isn’t the time to ask questions.”

“She’s Damion’s sister. I’ve known her since I was a child…I saw you talking with her in the lounge…then I saw you and her leaving your room dressed as you are now…”

Adena stood silent but she looked around her to make sure no one was listening.

“I’ve always felt as if I’ve seen you before, Dina…and the truth is…I have.”

Adena went very still.

“You’re friends with my sister, Ruby…I’ve seen you once before some years ago…so there’s clearly more to you than just an assistant to Erik Stevens.”

Ignoring Greg, Adena’s eyes fell upon the man of the hour. Erik walked up to Vivian’s writhing body, his cloak gone now. He’s carrying a gold blade in his right hand, and his guards stood behind him in a straight line as if waiting for their next command. A dreadful feeling formed in her gut. She knew what was going to happen…but was she prepared to see someone slaughtered in front of her. She knew the flames were there to burn Vivian’s body to ash.

Erik stood over Vivian’s body, staring down at her tear-stained face and struggling limbs. He reached out with his hand and lightly stroked her cheek with his knuckles before raising his Kukri blade. The gold blade gleamed like the gold slugs on his teeth as he parted his lips to speak.

“Aje, supreme goddess of wealth. Benevolent provider of all human needs. Owner of 1400 ado. Aje turns the wise man into a fool. And makes a fool of the wise man…”

The praise echoed as everyone else began reciting those exact same words.

Erik spoke again, raising his blade with both hands, “Aje, supreme goddess of wealth. Benevolent provider of all human needs. The only master that calls. To whom all respond. The white man pitching a tent in the bush is an adventurer driven by bad luck.”

Adena tried to repeat the words in tune with everyone else to blend in.

“Aje! Aje! You are the mother in the house. You are the mother at the farm. You are the mother of all the hidden and open places. Aje, supreme goddess of wealth! Benevolent provider of all human needs

You made a servant into a king! Aje! Aje! Aje! Benevolent provider of all human needs. Wife of six hundred husbands!”

Aje! Aje! Aje!

Ritualistic drums sounded off and everyone began prancing around as if overcome by the spirit of Aje. Greg pushed Adena along so it wouldn’t go noticed that she was an outsider. She jumped, waved her arms around, and shouted Aje! Aje! Like everyone else. Erik stretched his arms out and looked towards the sky, giving praise to Aje. Vivian’s cries and shouts landed on deaf ears as the sound of the drums grew louder and louder. Some people dropped to their knees and bowed before the sacrifice. Others continued to dance in a circle. The sound of the drums began to slow down and eventually it grew silent again as everyone took their place surrounding Vivian. Adena was still by Greg’s side waiting to see what would happen next.

“Whatever you do…just go along with it, Dina. You have to trust me if you want to live through this. No one ever does.” Greg whispered.

Adena knew that all too well.

“Why should I trust you? Aren’t you just like the rest of them?” Adena said with a hushed tone. .

“Listen to me, whoever sent you that invitation doesn’t have your best interest at heart, Dina. They want you dead.”

“I don’t plan on dying tonight, Greg.” Adena spoke with confidence.

“Dina—”

Adena turned away from him when Erik began speaking again.

“It is you Aje who commanded me, the son of Aje…command me to give you this offering…as a token of my gratitude. Aje! Aje! supreme goddess of wealth. Benevolent provider of all human needs!

Aje! Aje! Aje!

“Accept this offering from your son!”

Aje! Aje! Aje!

Adena’s eyes grew wide behind her mask.

“Aje! Supreme goddess of wealth!”

Her eyes followed the knife in Erik’s hands rising above Vivian’s body to stroke.

Aje! Aje! Aje!

The attack was swift and sudden. The blade sliced into Vivian’s left side and up towards her heart. Her chest ripped, ribs broke. Erik pulled the blade out with violence. Vivian gasped, her eyes bulging in disbelief. From her open mouth came gurgling, sputtering sounds. She wanted to cry out for help, to scream her agony and fear to the party, but she could get no volume. Without a word, Erik inspected the bloody blade and his equally bloody hand, walking away purposefully, with no appearance of panic. With a spluttering gasp, Vivian lay still, as her life ebbed from her, and her senses faded. It was quiet, not uncommonly quiet, but unsettling so.

“Now, present your daggers,” Erik spoke to everyone, “And come forward to show your loyalty to Aje and thank her for the sacrifice.”

Adena watched as everyone presented their daggers. She opened her bag and carefully retrieved her own, removing the protective covering. Adena’s heart hammered in her chest. She knew what she was walking into, but to see it happening before her eyes made her icy with panic. Greg tapped her side and Adena looked up at him. She could see his eyes so she locked onto them.

“You have to do it, Dina. You can’t show your fear.”

People began to walk forward and Adena’s throat tightened when she watched everyone take turns stabbing Vivian. The closer she got, the more she could tell that Vivian was dead. She didn’t particularly like her, but she did feel sorry for her. Who are they to determine who is worthy?

Adena approached Vivian and blood froze in her veins as she looked down at Vivian’s dead body covered in blood. The crimson fluid permanently stained the stone beneath her and trickled down the sides. She knew what had to be done, and the longer she stood there, the more suspicious people would be. Adena masked her fear and raised her blade above Vivian’s thigh. Her grip tightened on the handle and she striked Vivian’s meaty thigh, adrenaline pumping through her body. She’d never stabbed someone before. As she withdrew the blade, blood oozed from the wound slowly. Anxiety eclipsed her thoughts as she dropped the blade in the grass and walked away. She could feel the stickiness of Vivian’s blood on her fingers. Flashes of her mothers body appeared in her mind.

After everyone finished, Damion walked up to Erik dressed in dark blue with a black, gold and royal blue Bauta Mask. The long pointed chin covered his mouth and muffled his voice while the Mask hid his face. Raw anger shot through her at the sight of her father. Erik turned to face him and Damion began applauding Erik in a successful ritual and how they will begin the scarification ritual the next day to finalize everything. One of the cloaked guards with a wooden mask stepped forward with what looked like an ancient Egyptian wine goblet, passing it over to Damion who took Erik’s gold blade covered in blood and began stirring the wine with it. He passed the cup over to Erik and he brought it to his lips, drinking it all down.

“Praise Aje for the blood of the sacrifice…” Damion said.

Erik opened his eyes slowly and licked his lips.

“Thank you, Aje.” Erik said.

The clock struck midnight.

The party continued as if Vivian’s burning body was an afterthought. It was a celebration of Aje’s acceptance of the offering and everyone continued to fill up on wine, food, and sex. Adena didn’t participate in any of the wild fun, she simply stayed far away from everyone, waiting and watching to determine when was the best moment to strike. Damion was a hard man to keep up with. Each time she drew closer to him, he would disappear. Erik had joined the party soon after dressed in a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up and the first few buttons undone and black slacks with black dress shoes. He still wore his gold chains and gold winged mask. He was partying with a group of guys and carrying a bottle of 1942 in his hand.

Adena kept her eye on Ruby as well. While Mark tried to keep her attention, Ruby was too busy focusing on what Erik was doing, watching his every move like a hawk. Adena felt her handbag vibrate against her hip so she opened it to check her phone and noticed a text message from her aunt Felicity. Adena opened the text and sighed before locking her phone.

Auntie: Adena, time is running out. I’m getting worried sitting out here. If you take too much longer, I’m coming in.

That’s the last thing Adena wanted. She agreed to let her aunt wait for her in the car, but she couldn’t risk losing the only real family she had left. Adena cased the room for any sign of Damion and still, no sign of him. She looked towards the stairs and was ready to go searching for him when a hand wrapped around hers pulling her in the opposite direction. Adena turned around and looked at Greg’s masked face. He wasn’t going to stop so Adena followed him up the stairs and they made a right down the hall and into a room. Greg cracked the door and made sure the room was empty before he removed his mask. Adena placed her bag on the table and Greg sat his mask down before he walked over to Adena.

“What are you doing here?” Greg grumbled.

“Like I said, it’s none of your business. Why are you so concerned?” Adena snapped.

“Because this is not a place for you to be,” Greg looked towards the door before stepping closer to Adena, “Who sent you the invite, Dina?”

“…Your sister,” Adena revealed, “Maybe you should ask her all the questions.”

“Ruby wouldn’t have invited you. She doesn’t have the leverage to secure another invite. No…it was someone else…”

Adena remained silent, turning away. Greg’s face contorted with frustration.

“How do you know Felicity? I hadn’t seen her in years. When I saw you sitting at the bar alone, I was going to join you but then…Felicity walked in and…I saw you two hugging…talking closely…it just doesn’t make sense…”

Adena’s expression hardened beneath her mask.

“You can tell me, Dina. You can trust me.”

“…how can I trust you when you’re a member of The Court of Aje, and your father is a dirty politician who enjoys killing people and covering up murders?”

Adena was face to face with Greg now, looking up at him through her mask.

“For all I know, you just want to get information out of me to try and get me killed. And like I said, your sister invited me. Again, you should ask her all the questions—”

“And you should get out of here, Dina. Whether you want my help or not.” Greg fired back.

“Why are you helping me anyway? Wouldn’t you be risking yourself as well?” Adena scolded.

Greg’s expression closed up and his mouth set in a hard line.

“I know all too well what happens to someone when they get involved with the Court of Aje,” Adena reeled around, her back facing Greg, “And that’s why…I need you to get out of my way.”

Greg drew nearer to Adena, “Dina…did Erik do something to you? Did he hurt you? I know you don’t know me—”

“Then you should know that I have nothing else to say.”

“What happened to that sweet girl?” Greg asked.

“I’m far from sweet, Greg,” Adena admitted.

Greg gaped at Adena. She slowly turned to face him, walking up to him with a switch of her hips.

“I may look naive, but I’m a monster…and I don’t play fair…I won’t hesitate to hurt you if you get in my way.”

Greg’s eyes bugged out at her words and he stood rooted to the spot as Adena walked away. She opened the door to leave but stopped suddenly when Ruby walked in, her hands on her hips and an evil smirk on her lips. Adena took two steps back, her eyes boring into Ruby before she looked over at Greg.

“Well…well…well,” Ruby glared at Greg, “what do we have here? My brother helping an outsider?”

Greg charged forward, blocking Adena, “Why don’t you go back to the party, Ruby. This doesn’t concern you.”

Ruby laughed, “It does. Especially when she’s my dear old friend…Dina…I thought I told you that this party was for the highest members of society? What makes you worthy to step foot into this place and mingle amongst the rich and famous? Hmm?”

Adena didn’t respond to Ruby’s insult. She was seeing red and ready to knock Ruby down a couple feet.

“My brother isn’t the only one who has had eyes on you since the moment you walked through those doors. The woman in black who caught everyone’s attention. And don’t think it didn’t go unnoticed how out of place you acted during the ritual for Aje.”

“What’s your point with all of this, Ruby? She’s your friend!” Greg raged.

“Please, Gregory!” Ruby snapped, “Wait until dad finds out about this. He’ll be even more disappointed in you than he already is. Now,” Ruby turned her attention back to Adena, “What makes you think you belong here, Dina?”

Adena tilted her head at Ruby, still not giving her the satisfaction she desired.

“Nothing? Let me guess, my pathetic little bro decided to invite you?” Ruby hissed.

“Don’t play stupid, Ruby,” Greg argued back in his defense, “You sent her an invitation.”

Ruby’s eyes sparked with rage at her brother.

“I didn’t send her an invite! Why would I risk myself for her—”

“We all know you want Erik and would do anything to get him,” Adena said, “Even if that means getting me killed. I know all about you, Ruby Montgomery. Daughter of Jonathan Montgomery. The mean girl who would do whatever it takes to get what she wants. Even if that means getting blood on her hands.”

Adena was face to face with Ruby now, daring her to do something. Ruby looked Adena up and down with amusement, clearly not taking Adena seriously.

“I let you have your five seconds of fame and glory, but now it’s my turn,” Adena raged, “You don’t get to walk in here with your fake ass and tell someone who’s worthy of what. Bitch, you’re the one that’s not worthy! Never have been. Can’t stand when someone else takes the shine, your non-existent man, your delusions of a life so deserving that you’ll never have because you’re nothing!” Adena shouted angrily, “Every person who has ever crossed your path has nothing but bad things to say about you. Standing right here, right now, I can’t even stand to look at you. I want to ram my first so far into your face that no one would be able to recognize you!!”

A slow and sinister smile spread across Ruby’s lips and she laughed boisterously in Adena’s face, “So, not only are you broke and pathetic, you’re a stalker as well? Wow, Dina. Poor Dina…so envious of what I have that you think your little words are gonna hurt me? Try again,” Ruby sassed, “Try harder. You wanna know why I befriended you? Because I saw that you were broken. You needed me to feel good about yourself, and what better person than me? Why would anyone want you? You’re a foster child, no mommy or daddy,” Ruby faked a whiny voice and pouted in Adena’s face.

Adena fired back, “See…that’s where you’re wrong. You thought you knew everything about me, but you don’t. You never have. Pathetic? You’re still chasing after a man who wouldn’t even breathe in the same air as you if it was up to him. You think everyone is checking for you. NEWS FLASH BITCH! If it wasn’t for your daddy, no one would even notice you! I actually feel sorry for you. Its actually embarrassing to watch you act a fool over a man who would NEVER FUCK YOU AGAIN!”

Ruby gawked at Adena.

“That’s right, I know all about you and Erik. And I know he fucked you and tossed you aside. I know you can’t stand when another woman gets to have a chance with him. And I know exactly what you’re going to do right now…tell everyone that I don’t belong here…guess what? Do it. I dare you. You’re so tough? Walk out.”

Ruby leaned in closer to Adena, “I will. Let’s see how far you make it before each and every one of your limbs are cut from your body—”

It happened so fast. Adena clipped Ruby in the jaw and watched her stumble back against a table, knocking the chair to the floor. Ruby rolled onto her stomach clutching her lip, staring down with distraught eyes at her blood-stained fingers. Adena pushed the hood of her sheer black cloak from her head and ran up to Ruby, grabbing her by her neck, punching her square in the nose. Greg was paralyzed with shock to even stop them from fighting.

Ruby kneed Adena in her stomach which gave her enough room to stand. Blood dripped from her nose and onto her dress profusely. She swayed on her feet, noticing her left heel had snapped and now she was limping. Ruby screamed, baring her teeth as she charged at Adena. Adena took a swift side step and Ruby lost her footing again, knocking into the wall.

“You bitch! Look what you did to my face!” Ruby shrieked.

She picked up a vase and flung it at Adena, missing her by a centimeter as it crashed to the floor, shattering into many pieces. Ruby swung at Adena who dodge it expertly, putting her arms in front of her face to block her weak attempts at punching. She ducked under another punch and used the force of Ruby’s attack, pulling Ruby towards her and down to the ground with a combination of a trip and a push. Ruby’s back thumped loudly against the floor and one of her hands came up to snatch Adena’s mask off, the mask revealed yet another one underneath; a metallic steel gray, glittery half masquerade mask. Adena’s eyes were cold with fury, nothing like the innocent eyes she Ruby was used to. It was a completely different person above her. Adena placed both of her hands around Ruby’s neck and squeezed with a strength that Ruby couldn’t get out of. Ruby gurgled, trying her best to stop Adena. Her face began to turn colors and she felt her consciousness drifting away.

“Dina! Stop!”

Greg yanked Adena off of Ruby who began gasping for air and coughing. Adena growled, and swiftly struck Greg in the face with a direct frontal snap kick that targeted his chin, knocking him back on his heels. Ruby had already dashed for the door, but with Greg no longer holding Adena back, she lunged for Ruby again, ripping the bottom of her dress when she grabbed her.

“Dina!” Greg shouted after her, holding his bruised chin.

He ran into the hall and watched as Ruby grabbed a Zulu African knob from one of the weapons curios, swinging it at Adena. What Adena did next stunned Greg and Ruby. Dodging the blow from the stick, Adena did a cartwheel without hands. One of her legs jumped up, while the other kicked hard to the side, causing her body to rotate over itself. She landed on her feet away from Ruby and did a front flip, her leg coming down and snapping the Zulu knob in two.

Shocked, Ruby looked from the broken stick in her hands, to Adena and then dropped the sticks, running away as fast as she could. Adena looked over her shoulder at Greg, challenging him with her eyes. He didn’t want to mess with her so he didn’t try to stop her when she picked up a black Zulu spear and ran off after Ruby.

Ruby rushed down one of the staircases with one heel on her foot and a bashed-in face. She yelled to get everyone’s attention, but Adena had caught up with her, kicking her the rest of the way down the stairs. The music stopped playing and the crowd of drunken people half naked and clothed watched as Ruby landed on her shoulder, screaming from the pain. Everyone began drawing closer to Ruby, a couple of men crouching down to help her up. All eyes were on Adena who descended the stairs with vengeance.

Four cloaked guards barged forward, taking in Ruby’s battered face and dislocated shoulder. Their masks weren’t enough to veil the shock at who was responsible, and Adena didn’t back down either. She proudly walked forward with a sway in her hips, ready to kick anybody’s ass that dared step to her. She kept a firm grip on the Zulu spear in her right hand and was ready to kill Ruby on sight where she stood but the masked guards all pulled out pistols, pointing them directly at her.

“Drop the spear!” One guard ordered.

“Do it now!”

“What the fuck is going on?”

Erik pushed through the crowd of people and stopped suddenly as his eyes fell upon Adena; the woman in black. Her hair was undone from the neat French twist and cascading down her back. The black cloak she wore was removed, revealing a form-fitting dress that molded into her generous curves. The glittery black masquerade mask shielded the top half of her face, but her lips were glossy with brown liner, making them appear plumper. He knew those lips from anywhere. He recognized those big brown eyes.

Dina Brighton.

How did she get here? Why was she wielding a weapon? Why was Ruby Montgomery bloodied and beaten? So many questions raced through Erik’s mind. This wasn’t the Dina he knew. Why would the Dina he knew want to hurt anybody? The blood on her knuckles sang a different tune.

“She’s an outsider!” Ruby shouted, “She tried to kill me! You have to stop her!”

“What would you like for us to do, Mr. Stevens?” One of the guards asked.

“Easy...we kill her.”

Heads followed the direction of that deep and eerie voice. Damion walked forward from the crowd with his hands behind his back, taking his place next to Erik.

“We have zero tolerance for unwanted guests. Grab her and dispose of her now.” Damion ordered the guards.

Erik cut his eyes at Damion, “Nah, I’ll handle it myself—”

“If one of you comes any closer, I’ll kill you,” Adena pointed the spear at Erik, “I don’t think you want to make that mistake.

Damion laughed, “It’s one of you, and many of us, silly girl. I’m afraid you’re outnumbered. Now…be a good girl and put the spear down. Then maybe…we’ll go easy on you.”

Adena gave Damion a sly smirk, “I’ll take my chances.”

Erik stepped forward and Adena pointed the tip of the spear at him. He side stepped her and knocked the spear out of her hand, lunging for Adena but she was faster. She opened the high split of her black gown, revealing a thigh holster and grabbed her Glock with a chrome finish, pointing it at Erik’s head. Startled, his hands went up and he looked her in the eyes confused.

“Back away…slowly…that’s it…good, boy,” Adena walked around Erik, gun aimed for his face, “Or I’ll shoot a hole in that pretty face of yours, Mr. Stevens,” Adena said with a breathy voice.

“GRAB HER!” Damion shouted.

The guards ran forward after Adena. She raised her glock to the ceiling and made a precise shot that detached the chandelier. It came down fast, crashing onto the ballroom floor, blocking the guards from following her out into the yard. People began panicking, rushing out of the mansion to avoid being exposed or worse…killed. Adena made a beeline for the hedge maze. She could hear footsteps stomping after her. Adena didn’t look back as she ran forward, turning every which way. After some time, she stopped and pressed her back into the hedging, trying to calm her breathing. The bottom of her dress was dragging in the dirt and she could feel tiny twigs scraping across her exposed skin.

Distant voices had her on alert with her finger on the trigger. She couldn’t get the look in Erik’s eyes out of her mind. He couldn’t believe she was there or that she was pointing a gun at his face. It’s unfortunate that this is how they had to reunite. She could only hope that she make it out of this situation alive.

The sound of leaves crunching to her left, Adena whirled around and pointed her gun at one of the masked guards. She aimed and pulled the trigger, shooting the guard in his throat. He dropped to his knees and fell face-first into the grass. The sound of the gunshot echoed, and Adena’s fingers trembled. This was the first time she’d ever killed someone. She stepped over his dead body, no time to look back or think about what she did. There were going to be more casualties that evening so it was best for her to get used to it.

Adena turned left, right, then left again, running head on into another guard who slapped the gun out of her hand and backhand slapped her in the face. Adena’s head flew back from the impact but she quickly recovered. He grabbed Adena by her upper arms and lifted her off of the ground, thinking he’d won, but Adena was ready. With her thumbs, Adena jammed them into the guards eyes. He shouted with agony, releasing Adena and she fell at his feet to the ground. Adena scrambled for her gun, and when she found it, she shot the guard in his groin. Running as fast as she could, Adena tried to find a way out of the hedge maze. She slowed down again when she felt no one was nearby.

“Dina…”

Adena went still, pressing her body into the hedging.

“Dina…”

Taking a deep breath, Adena jumped out and pointed her gun. The gun fired off and the person in front of her fell to the ground clutching their stomach. Adena crouched down to get a good look at whoever it was, relieved when it wasn’t Erik.

“Looking for me?”

Adena shot up from the ground but two powerful arms wrapped around her, lifting her from the ground. Everything turned foggy and dark. She pushed back against him, but his hold on her tightened.

“You got some explaining to do, girl…I hadn’t heard from you in days and this is how we meet up?!” Erik growled in her ear, “you murdering people now? What the fuck has gotten into you, Dina?!”

Adena stomped on Erik’s left foot hard and brought her elbow to shoulder height, pivoting her opposite foot and made contact with the side of his face with the back of her elbow. Erik’s hands fell from her waist and he backed away from her, Adena getting into a fight stance with her fists raised. Erik’s forehead creased and his eyes looked beyond her, alerting Adena that someone had shown up.

“Erik! You found her…”

Adena picked up her gun from the ground and aimed it at a black man in his mid-seventies dressed in a navy blue suit with a long trench coat. Behind him stood two bullocky men ready to attack on his command. Adena recognized that man and his voice. She lowered her gun and stared the man directly in the eyes.

“Jonathan,” Erik cautioned, “I got it from here.”

“She hurt my daughter…could have killed her. I want to watch her burn…”

“Dad…”

Gregory caught up with his father and stopped in his tracks when his eyes fell on Adena and Erik.

Agitated, Jonathan circled around to face his son, “Why are you here and not by your sister's side?! If it wasn’t for you, none of this would have happened! You should thank me for saving your ass, son. Otherwise, Mr. Stevens here would have killed you. Consider this a final warning!”

Hurt by his father’s words, Greg backed away and ran back towards the mansion. Jonathan chuckled, seemingly embarrassed by Greg’s actions.

“Thank you for sparing him, Erik. I know he’s your friend, but he was wrong. He protected this girl after what she did to his sister—”

“How about after what you did to my mother?” Adena chimes in.

Jonathan raised his chin, looking down at Adena.

“I don’t know who your mother is, but trust…whatever it was I’m sure was deserving,” Jonathan shoved his hands in his pockets.

Adena cocked her head to the side and her eyes became slits. Angry tears welled in her eyes, fury vibrating her being. Her grip tightened on her piece as she pointed it straight at his chest, right at his heart.

“Did I strike a nerve? Are those tears in your eyes,” Jonathan laughed menacingly, “Put that down, little one. No need to act so tough…you’re as good as dead.”

Adena felt Erik’s hand on her waist as he approached her from behind. She looked back at him over her shoulder, trembling with rage. He held her gaze, wordlessly telling her to drop the gun. There were four of them. She wasn’t going to die here. That wasn’t an option. No, she was going to survive this.

“Erik? What are you waiting on? Take her gun!” Jonathan shouted angrily.

Erik snatched Adena’s gun away and placed it in his back pocket. Adena was simmering as she stared daggers at Erik, wanting nothing more but to kill him where he stood.

“See? Your little adventure has run its course.” Jonathan provoked.

The two men walked around Jonathan and flexed their muscles as if that would intimidate her.

“I got it from here, Jonathan. I’ll take full responsibility for her getting in,” Erik spoke up, “I’ll make sure to get rid of her.”

“I trust your judgment, Erik, but I want to watch. That’s what I did all those years ago when Joseph and Damion tortured and killed that pretty woman.”

Adena jerked her arm away from Erik and faced Jonathan.

“Drag her by her neck if you have to,” Jonathan said with his eyes still on Adena, “Is there something you want to say, sweetheart?”

“Yes…as a matter of fact it is…”

Adena hooked Erik’s front leg and with a fast execution, she pushed him with the palm of her hand and he fell to his knees, giving her the opportunity to grab her gun. Working fast, Adena raised her glock at Jonathan and before his henchmen could retrieve their weapons, she put a bullet in his head and then two more bullets in each of the men, watching them fall to the ground.

“That woman was my mother…asshole.” Adena said.

Erik stood up and Adena pressed her gun into his chest. Erik raised his hands in surrender, locking eyes with her.

“Your mother? My father had something to do with it?”

Adena fought back tears as she pressed the barrel of the gun hard against Erik’s chest. Erik smacked the gun away and grabbed Adena by her throat, his eyes wide and jaw tight.

“Start talking. Now!”

“I don’t owe you a fucking explanation! How dare you?! I was stupid enough to let you in. That won’t happen again. I’m tired of the way you make me feel! Let go of me!!!”

Adena shoved Erik hard in his chest. His forehead furrowed and he sized her up with a glint in his eyes.

“You’ve been lying to me this entire time, haven’t you? About everything?” Erik gave her a once-over, “Is Dina even your real name?”

Adena could hear someone else coming so she broke off into a run. Erik ran after her, his legs heavy as if sinking into quicksand. He was shocked by her strength, her skills in combat, the way she handled her own, and how she killed those men so easily like she could do it with her eyes closed. He needed to find her before Damion did. Erik spotted her opening a side door to the mansion and Erik noticed that she was entering the mirror maze. A sick addition to the house that was Erik’s idea. He enjoyed primal sex play in the mirror maze, playing hide and go seek.

Erik slipped inside of the mirror maze, the red light acting as night vision. He proceeded forward, the mirrors giving the illusion of infinite hallways in multiple directions. He could see infinite reflections of himself because of the angles of the mirrors in relation to each other. They reflect the truth. They reflect what is. Like a labyrinth, Erik was guided deeper, his eyes scanning left and right. When his eyes flickered left again, he could see Adena’s dress flowing behind her as she ran. He used his fine motor skills and visual skills to find her.

“Dina? You know I’ll be able to find you,” Erik said with a gravely, calm voice, “I won’t hurt you. I want to help you…but I need to understand why you’re doing all of this…”

Erik turned and he could see her one minute, and then the next she vanished. He ran towards where he’d seen her last and found her mask lying on the floor. Erik picked it up, stroking it with his thumb.

“Who are you?” Erik whispered.

He continued in that same direction, using not only his eyes but his keen sense of hearing to find her.

“This isn’t how I pictured us seeing each other again…I’m sorry you had to see all of that tonight…I guess…I guess we should start being honest with each other, yeah?”

Erik could hear footsteps behind him so he turned back in that direction, widening his strides. He sucked his teeth when he’d lost her again.

“…My family started the Court of Aje in the early 1900s. Some of New York's oldest and wealthiest black families used murder and money to wield power over politics, culture, society, and even the criminal underworld…that way…those truly in power stay in power. It was the only way they could protect themselves…”

Erik walked the stretch of a long hallway, looking around in a circle. She can’t be too far, the maze isn’t but so big.

“…we make a sacrifice to Aje, our goddess of wealth and power…on the eve of Halloween. The Orisha is what kept us afloat. Without her, we wouldn’t be where we are today…”

Erik stopped within a circle of mirrors. He gazed around and around, waiting patiently.

“…After my father died, I was given the mantle as leader of the court. Damion is there to guide me through it all. There are times when I feel like it’s too much to take on…being responsible for something so secretive. It’s not something I could just bring up in conversation…that I’ve murdered people—”

The cocking of a gun had Erik frozen. He kept his back turned, but he could see through the many mirrors Adena standing behind him with her gun pointed at the back of his head.

“Are you really going to kill me, love?” Erik asked.

“…Why did you kill Cora?” Adena questioned.

Erik’s nostrils flared and his upper lip curled.

“Because she was conspiring to bring me down, to expose me!” Erik barked out, “I couldn’t have that.”

“You Stevens are nothing but trouble. You’ll do anything to save your asses,” Adena argued, “And you’re just like your father…what you did to Cora—”

Adena’s voice became hoarse as she fought back tears. Erik could see her struggling to keep it together, wanting to know desperately why Cora’s death was so triggering for her and what his father has to do with what happened to her mother.

“It reminded me of what happened to my mother,” Adena said with a tremble in her voice, “Your father…and my father…murdered my mother and covered it up as a suicide! I saw my mother’s dead body in a bloody bath with her wrists slit! I was just seven years old!”

Erik shut his eyes. He couldn’t bear hearing the grief in Adena’s voice. It struck him like a car at high speed. He never wanted to see her like that. Deeply saddened and broken. He was wrong. She didn’t have it all together. She was a complete wreck. Hearing her say that his father played a hand in her mother’s death angered him but didn’t surprise him. His father was a deeply deranged man. He’d witnessed his mother near death many times because of his father’s rage. Erik locked eyes with Adena in one of the mirrors. He wanted to hold her close, but from the look on her face, she didn’t want anything to do with him. That cut deep.

“I let myself get close to you when I shouldn’t have. I fell for you hard when I should hate you. I still have feelings for you, Erik! I can’t erase you from my mind! No matter how hard I fucking try!” Adena cried out.

“I have feelings for you too, Dina. I know that nothing I have to say will change what my father did…but I’m not my father—”

“Yes! you are!” Adena yelled.

Erik turned around to face her, “I’m different because of you,” Erik said, “The moment you entered my life—”

“Please,” Adena said, “It’s too late for all of that. On your fucking knees,” Adena pointed to the floor with her gun, “Right Fuckin’ now.”

Erik lowered to his knees, his eyes locked on Adena. She walked up to him and pressed the barrel of the gun against his forehead.

“I've been waiting for this moment…” Adena released a shaky breath, “It feels good to see you on your knees for once…at my command…my life in your hands…you want the truth about me, huh?”

Erik looked up through his long lashes at Adena. Despite his compromising situation, he could feel his dick throb. Staring up at her from that angle— her hair wild, eyes staring down at him, all fiery, plump lips parted— he was irrevocably in love with this woman. And she wasn’t as naive and timid as he thought she was. Or unsure of herself and what she’s capable of. She knew who she was. It radiated from her like a heat wave. It consumed him. Put him in a trance.

“Keep wondering.”

Adena shot down the mirrors surrounding them, the glass flying everywhere. Erik ducked his head and shielded his face after he felt a shard of glass slice his left cheek. When he finally looked up, Adena was gone.

He wasn’t going to let her slip away again.

Adena dusted tiny pieces of glass from her dress carefully as she walked back into the mansion. It was eerily silent, too quiet to be trustworthy. She needed to find Damion. Adena made the conscious decision to spare Erik’s life. He wasn’t the real enemy here, and truthfully, he was unaware of what his father had done. Killing him would only hurt Adena. She pressed forward, climbing the stairs again. Instinct kicking in, Adena raised her gun and fired a couple of rounds into a masked guard that attempted to overtake her. His body fell over the banister and landed hard on the polished floor below. Adena checked her rounds and when she noticed only three left, she pushed the clip back in and rushed forward.

“Come here!”

Adena was grabbed by her hair from behind and she lost her gun in the process. She grabbed her attacker by the hand and twisted his wrist so hard she heard a pop. She turned and jabbed them in the throat before Roundhouse kicking them down the stairs. Adena sprinted down the hallway, spotting three men charging towards her. She kicked the curio glass in and grabbed a blade. With proper upper body strength and endurance, Adena swung the long blade with both hands, slashing one man in the abdomen and one in the throat with a twirl.

“Gotcha you little bitch!”

Adena was sliced on her upper arm with a knife. She winced before turning around, kicking the pocket knife from their hand and ramming her blade into the side of their neck. When she withdrew the blade, a spray of blood stained the wall. They dropped to their knees before her and Adena stepped away in time before they landed on her feet. She couldn’t feel the cut on her left bicep, but she knew she would feel it after the adrenaline wore off.

“Adena!!!!”

Adena looked up to see her aunt Felicity running towards her. She pulled Adena into a tight hug, pulling away to examine her.

“Jesus,” Felicity looked at the cut on her arm, “it took me a while to get in here undetected. I saw everyone running to their cars. I’m so happy you’re alive!”

“Auntie, you can’t be in here!” Adena argued, “it’s not safe—”

Adena was flung away from her aunt from the force of being knocked aside. She landed hard on her back against a door that was ajar, her head hitting the hard floor. Adena picked herself up, whimpering from the pain in her head, and at her full height, she looked into the eyes of her treacherous father.

“Damion! Don’t touch her!” Felicity shouted like a mad woman.

“Shut up!” Damion raised his hand and slapped Felicity so hard she knocked into the wall, “I’ll deal with you after I deal with her!” Damion roared.

He turned around to face Adena again, cracking his knuckles. Adena lunged forward but Damion grabbed her by the neck, lifting her off of the ground. Adena clawed at his hand, gasping for air. Damion didn’t flinch.

“Fight all you want, little girl. I’ll make sure you’re dead by my hand. I’m assuming you killed Erik…pity…I wanted to do that myself.”

“GET OFF OF HER!!!!”

Felicity hit Damion in the back of the head with a chair and he released Adena, dropping her to the floor. She took in a sharp breath while rubbing her neck. Felicity rushed over to Adena to help her up from the floor when Damion was up on his feet again.

“What is your affiliation with this girl, Felicity?! Why are you protecting her?!”

Damion inched closer while Felicity shielded Adena from Damion.

“You are a disgrace to our family. I should've gotten rid of you when I had the chance. I should have left you to die in that car…”

Adena stepped around her aunt and ignored her attempts to try and keep her back. As Damion stared at Adena, his face slowly morphed into that of recognition.

“You’re Erik’s assistant…Dina, right?”

Adena’s eyes flickered with fury.

“Who are you really?” Damion questioned.

“…I’m your daughter.”

The smile on Damion’s face morphed into a frown.

“Adena…” Felicity pleaded.

Damion looked at Felicity and the tears in her eyes made Adena’s words all too real. Damion studied Adena’s face with disbelief.

“Carmella…” Damion said with a sigh of irritation, “All this time…”

A single tear rolled down Adena’s cheek.

“And you took care of her?” Damion questioned Felicity with narrow eyes, “you kept this from me all this time—”

“LIKE YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN IN MY LIFE!” Adena shouted, “I PROBABLY WOULDN’T BE HERE IF YOU WOULD HAVE KNOWN!”

Damion smirked, “You’re right. The only mistake I made was sparing your life that night…both of you.”

Damion reached behind him and Felicity jumped in front of Adena before she could even stop her.

Pow!

“Aunt Felicity!!!”

Adena was at her side on the floor, cradling her head while trying to apply pressure to the wound in her aunt's stomach. She stared down at her aunt’s face and screamed with rage. Felicity—weakened and clinging onto life as the blood from her wound stained the carpet—reached up to caress Adena’s cheek.

“I told you not to come here!” Adena yelled.

Felicity parted her lips to speak but no words escaped her mouth.

“Don’t die on me! Please!” Adena pleaded with a shrill cry.

Damion watched the scene before him with a sinister smile. Adena looked up at him boiling with anger and hatred towards him.

“What a daddy-daughter reunion this is. Get up.” Damion ordered.

Adena carefully placed her aunt's head onto the floor and stood before her father.

“Don’t worry, you’re joining her,” Damion chuckled darkly, “And your whore of a mother. If you weren’t so screwed up, maybe I would have taken you in.”

“You’re a joke,” Adena snarled, “You’d kill your own sister…your own daughter…the mother of your child…you haven’t won.”

“Oh, I have,” Damion gestured to the gun in his hand, “Always have. Come harder than that, Princess.”

Adena looked over Damion’s shoulder and spotted Erik standing in the doorway, a long cut on his left cheek. His eyes fell to the floor and noticed Felicity struggling to stay alive. His eyes traveled to the gun in Damion’s hand and then he looked back at Adena. He brought a finger to his mouth to silence her.

“I’ll have to thank whoever invited you here tonight,” Damion said smugly.

“Victoria Stevens,” Adena revealed, “The same person who invited my mother all those years ago. You still fucking her?”

Erik looked at Damion in a new light, eyes squinting and jaw clenching. He locked eyes with Adena again when Damion began to laugh.

“Victoria is something else…she never liked your mother. Carmella was my weakness…and Victoria hated that she had such an effect on me. She was even happy when that fake marriage I had was all a hoax to prepare her for a sacrifice to Aje. She must have suspected all these years that you were my daughter…and took matters into her own hands to get rid of you.”

Adena tilted her head, “Like you wanted to do with Erik?”

Erik’s eyes became stormy with rage.

“The Stevens Family couldn’t live with the idea that my family…the King Family…were making a rise to power with our new money. A member of the Stevens Family accused a family member of mine of sexual assault. It was a fabricated lie to get rid of us. After everything we did for that family…they turned their backs on us for more power. My family was forced to change our name to Jones in order to blend in. I’ve been working hard all these years to bring that family down…to get revenge for what they did. Felicity unwillingly killed Joseph when he tried to end her life, and that left Erik. The other Stevens Family would be easy to take down once I got the money for myself thanks to Victoria.”

Erik’s eyes were glossy with tears listening to Damion’s confession. He looked away to try and wipe his eyes, but Adena had already seen it. She watched him take in deep breaths, his clenched fists shaking with fury.

“But none of that matters now,” Damion lifted his gun at Adena, “Any last words?”

Adenda exhaled, “Yeah…turn around.”

Confused, Damion’s head turned and Erik slammed his fist into Damion’s jaw so hard that Adena could have sworn she heard it break. Erik snatched the gun out of Damion’s hand and puffed out his chest, pointing the gun at Damion’s head. Damion was dismayed, convinced that Erik was dead. Adena looked between them, her rage mirroring Erik’s.

“Erik..put the gun down,” Damion said carefully, “You don’t want to do this—”

“I don’t?! I heard everything you said! You killed her mother! And you’ve been working against me?! Sleeping with my mother?!” Erik barked out.

“You’re pointing that gun at the wrong person, son.”

“Son?! Don’t call me that! You ain’t no godfather of mine. You’re a traitor…and a dead man—”

“After everything I did for you! I helped you get where you are today! This girl is trying to break your legacy—”

“NAH… nah, that’s you. How could you kill her mother? How could you stand here and shoot your own sister? Turn a gun on your own child? That’s some shit I would never do, bruh!” Erik shouted, “My father was many things—”

“Tell him the truth, Damion,” Adena said.

Damion glared at her over his shoulder, “What did Felicity tell you?”

Adena could hear her aunt panting on the floor. She finally found the words to speak.

“T–T–Tell him,” Felicity said.

“Tell me what?” Erik said with anger.

“You were adopted, Erik.” Adena revealed.

Erik cocked his head back in disbelief, looking from side to side confused out of his mind. He struggled against his anger, eyes searching Damion’s face for the truth. He didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want to accept that his life was a lie. Damion looked at him with an unblinking stare, not once opening his mouth to speak. Erik frowned and a fresh swell of tears clouded his vision. Adena watched him cave right before her eyes, unable to hold back her own tears. Fury tore through Erik and he sniffled back his tears as best as he could, gun raised at Damion again.

Damion tried to tackle Erik and Erik’s back collided with the wall. He punched Damion in the ribs, dropping the gun in the process. Locs in his eyes, lips drawn back in a snarl, Erik body slammed Damion to the ground, climbing over him and started beating his face in with bone-crushing blows. His shirt had ripped in the process and the blood from Damion’s nose splattered over his naked chest. Adena rushed forward to pick up the gun and when she did, Damion grabbed her ankle, knocking her down to the ground.

Erik reached out to help her and Damion took that moment to hit Erik upside the head with a lamp that had fallen from the side table in the room. Damion pushed himself up on his feet and dashed towards the door but Adena climbed onto his back, putting him in a headlock. Damion growled, Stumbling backwards to try and get Adena off of him. He reached behind him and grabbed a fist full of her hair, yanking her from his neck. Adena kicked him in the jaw and Damion lost his footing, crashing to the floor. Erik rushed over to Adena to help her up and then followed Damion to the balcony.

“Nowhere else to go, Damion!” Erik yelled after his retreating body.

Damion braced himself on the balcony railing, peering over and down at solid concrete. He abruptly turned around to face Erik who was more than ready to kill him. Erik swung and hit Damion so hard in his ribs that he curled. He uppercut him and his arms flailed. Damion’s knees buckled, and he looked up at Erik through swollen eyes while blood dripped from his mouth.

Adena walked out onto the balcony with Damion’s gun in her hand, standing next to Erik. Erik looked down at her and then back at Damion, stepping aside to allow her to do what needed to be done. Adena walked up to her father with slow strides, chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. Damion struggled to get onto his feet, and when he did, he looked his daughter in the eye and smiled.

“You’re ruthless just like me.”

Adena pulled the trigger and like a bullseye, the silver bullet lodged between his eyes, killing Damion instantly and sending him over the balcony.

Adena lowered the gun and collapsed to her knees. She broke down crying, bending forward. She wailed and beat her first onto the ground and trembled. Erik couldn’t imagine how she must feel. He reached out to touch her but Adena raised her head. She stood up on her feet and rushed back into the room, dropping down beside her aunt. Felicity was still alive, but she lost so much blood. Adena stroked her cheek and cried hard, tears dropping onto her aunt's cheek.

“I did it,” Adena said with a quiver in her lip, “I killed him.”

“I know, b–baby,” Felicity smiled weakly, her eyes so low they looked like they were closed, “I’m so proud of you. You fought hard to–to get here.”

Adena hiccuped from all the crying she did, staring at her aunt's belly.

“We need to get you to a hospital,” Adena stressed with a shaky voice.

“I’ll get there…where’s–where’s Erik?”

“I’m here…”

Adena’s eyes fell upon Erik’s. They stared at each other for a moment before Adena broke her gaze away to examine her aunt.

“We can get her to a doctor friend of mine who has a private practice,” Erik stood up quickly, “She can get here fast and take care of her.”

Erik picked up Felicity and tried to calm her when she began to cry out in pain. He rested her on the guest head and dug in his pocket, pulling out his cellphone. Adena sat next to her aunt and watched Erik speak on the phone with his friend. He ended the call five minutes later, joining them on the bed.

“She’s on her way with help.”

“Thank you,” Adena said with a small smile.

Erik’s eyes scanned her face fondly.

“You’re welcome.”

His eyes dropped to Felicity’s face.

“I’m sorry about what my father tried to do.” He said.

Felicity cleared her throat before speaking, “It wasn’t your fault, Erik…I know how much he meant to you.”

Erik twisted his mouth, eyes blinking away tears.

“Nah…he wasn’t my father…”

Adena wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. Erik exhaled and straightened up, staring across at Adena again. His eyes scanned her beautiful face. He saw her so differently now. She was such a strong, capable woman. Watching her hold her own weight made him respect her even more. He’d never seen a woman so bold and powerful. He could only imagine that her mother was exactly the same. Carmella Love. He was still stunned by that reveal. He wanted to know everything about her, but he knew right now wasn’t the right time. Felicity’s health mattered the most.

“Adena, huh? Pretty,” Erik smirked.

“Thank you,” She smiled weakly.

Ten minutes later, footsteps stopped in front of the door and an Indian woman with long, shiny black hair, big dark brown eyes, full lips, and a petite frame ran into the room followed by two men in teal scrubs.

“I’m Padma,” she said to Adena, “what happened?”

Erik and Adena filled her in on everything while the two men carried Felicity out of the room.

“That explains all the bodies in the hallway…you two should come with me, you may need medical attention as well.”

Erik and Adena both agreed as they rose from the bed. Erik reached out for Adena’s hand, checking her face to see if it was alright. just a few abrasions. Erik secured her fingers tightly around his firm grip as they walked hand in hand, out of the room.

@goddessofthundathighs @hearteyes-for-killmonger @nobodybaby93 @theegoldenchild @afriicanhoe @19jammmy @abcdestinyyyy @whorderofthepheonix @shaekingshitup @tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh @pananegra @theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah @eyeknowmywrites @crowngold @blktinkerbell @luvanxi @sheisexcellent1 @chocolatedippedinhoney @brandithecrystalgem @soulfulbeauty19 @btitannaaaaa @sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted @harleycativy @rbhp @thee-germanpeach @thadelightfulone @palmstreesallday @skylahb @truglori @queenflaws @ljstraightnochaser @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @nickidub718 @thehomierobbstark @fd-writes @chasingsunlight @sickaddiktions @xo-goldengirl @tiava143 @33kiara @honeytoffee @asiasblackworld727 @momobaby227 @soulshinechronicles @fanfangal @kreolemami @thoughtsoftheantagonist @luvwitoutlimit1 @mygirlrenee @hippiesandpeacesigns @jaysaidhi @shawnstacksss @mareethequeen @browngirldominion @ceeverse @therealmrsrhodes @sensitivelegend @teheeboo @yomiloo @msreshel @afteracouplepuffss @shaelyn102 @amyhennessyhouse @chaneajoyyy @dameshaemonique @glittermakesmesmile @notavintagecliche @pariahcolored @ambthegamer @efonteno @wisenerdcreator @draggingstxns @eevolsidog @asweet-serendipity @ajspencer1892 @quietpoeticheart @itsjustyazz @dasia21 @woah-express @bbgiirrll @forbeautyandlife @cecereads209 @queenbetter @daddys-baby-girl-t @lovinthemelanin @ladymac82 @t3mporaa @iv0rysoap @naysianaee @nyleveeee @woahthatshitfat @scarypumkin23 @vikki240401 @enigmadivine @gingerylimonte @counterfeit-recherche @unholyxcumbucket @xdezaraex @missgigglesmoultrie @dashhoney25 @oversorry @admirehermind @wassuduoo @kaykay0829 @woahitslucyylu @xsweetdellzx @amorestevens @tinystudentfirepurse @suburbanblackhoe @keiosha234 @bewitchedtbaby @crestsmile83 @dollfaceddom @majesticbrownjawn @lovelymari4 @endlessmockery @meunearthed @blackpinup22 @im5ftbutmythroat66 @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @richonne4life @alookintohersoul @youcantkillamutant @riveristhenameofhersong @queenfaithmarie @sourbabynaee @dessianna1 @msincognito67 @themeirajay @toni9 @joanna-doe @cool-fancyone @kehlaniswifee @bugngiz @soulfuljas @tinystudentfirepurse @childishgambinaax @callmemckenzieee @thesandbeneathmytoes

#Erik Killmonger #killmonger imagine #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #nahimjustfeelingit-writes #kinktober #bd/sm kink #spooky szn

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raffe156 · 2 years

Text

Escape to the country part 4

Pairing - Price X MC (Tank) F!reader

Summary - This one broke me a little bit close to 6K but hope you love it strap in!

For Luke I had this image of Henry cavill in my head sorry if he's not your cup of tea.

You can read the other parts here

A/N - I really appreciate all the recent feedback and asks! Please keep em coming! It only spurs me on haha feel free to reblog 💖

Here's some of the songs I listened to while writing this and what I think goes well with reading:

Mt. Joy - “Dirty Love”

Foster the people - “Lambs wool”

Tame Impala - “Eventually”

Beach house - “Space song”

Steve Lacy -”Dark red” (Of course)

Lorde - “Ribs” (This one is more for Tank & Kyle)

Phantogram - “Black out days”

Maneskin - “The Loneliest”

Young the Giant - “My way”

Sufjan Stevens - “Fourth of July” (Had to get the depression just right)

Warnings for the whole storyline - Under 18+ DNI, angst, Smut, Language, mutual pining, alcohol,fluff, Age gap Relationship feelings, Price (39) reader (Tank, 25)

Tags: @irnbru32 @shuttlelauncher81 @mildlyhopeless @mentallynot-here @deadbranch @soapyghost

I know I had more tag request but for some reason it wont let me tag you guys!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Call of duty characters Only Tank & Luke

——————————

You were sat at the kitchen table listening to Kyle talk about how he had had the best night's sleep of his life, you, on the other hand, had spent the last remaining hours lying awake unable to close your eyes as when you did your mind was filled with the images of Price and her, tangled up in his sheets, bodies crashed together, him whispering how she feels so good under him, how he wants her and she of course wants him. His grunts and groans, Images of them just being together in the house, walking around like she owned the place, cuddled up together in front of the fire…just like he had done with you…She must have been round more recently than Price had initially said for her underwear to be under his bed, he had said she came when it wasn’t even liveable so that now of course you knew wasn't true, you tormented yourself for the rest of the night wondering when she had come to ‘visit’ him.

“Take it you didn't get much sleep last night, I can tell by your face…I’ve seen that look before”

“What look?”

“The one on your face right now, you look like shit, sorry but you do Tank, what’s up?”

“Thanks…I'm just super tired, couldn't really sleep last night, unfamiliar you know me”

“I do an that’s why I call bullshit…something else is wrong…did something happen last night after I went to bed? I noticed you weren’t behind me when I went up”

You shifted in your seat, god dammit he did know you, knew you very well, but you couldn’t tell him the reason you had been up all night was because your Captain had shagged the Irish Doctor and you were jealous, well not jealous upset that he had lied…but yeh jealous because you had these messed up feelings that you couldn't make sense of and felt or at least had an indication that he felt the same way? Instead You looked at him giving him a weak smile.

“No nothing happened ha ha I came up not long after you, like I said just unfamiliar setting that’s all, but I could do with a coffee please if your making one”

Kyle could see right through you, but he thought best not to push and hoped that given time you would tell him what was going on in that head of yours, he only wanted to help.

“Fair enough, I did see that Cap got us that shitty cold brew stuff that we love so much? Want one of them? Perk you up a bit you miserable cow?”

His grin made you smile a genuine one. Even when he didn't have a clue what was going on her knew how to help.

“Yeh go on then, I’ll need it for this walk today…and just today in general”

“Oh yeh nature hike and a pub dinner didn't he say? Wonder if he’s even up?” Kyle glanced over at the clock on the wall 9:30am it wasn't like Price to stay in past 6, maybe off-duty Price was different?

“Wanna go wake him up? Ill make you a brew to take up to him?”

“Erm no you go wake him up, I got him in bed you can get him out of it…” you stopped realising that you had just dropped yourself in it.

“I'm sorry what? You got him in bed did you just say?” Kyle was on you like a rash. His face puzzled but intrigued. You shooed him away and put your hand out for your drink that he was withholding from you now for answers.

“Gods sake Kyle give me the coffee, I came down for a herbal tea because I couldn't sleep and he was down here drunk as a skunk so I helped him up to bed that’s all” you were getting tetchy now and Kyle could tell he’d touched a nerve.

“Oh ok, hey if you hadn’t he would of ended up sleeping down here I bet haha”

“Yeh I would have done and had a bad back to show for it! Thanks again for that Kid” Price walked into the kitchen as he passed you he rubbed your back with his hand. The heat you got from his touch would have made you smile normally, but this time it caused your body to flinch forward. The movement went unnoticed by Price as he made his way over to the kettle to pour himself a brew.

“Weathers just right for a walk today, couple hours out then we can come back get showered and changed and go to the local gastro pub for dinner how does that sound?” Price smiled at you both, but he lingered on you for a minute longer, his eyes bright, blue and hopeful. You returned it with a smile. You couldn’t help it, all you saw was her perched on the counter with a glass of wine as he cooked. Maybe you should just go home…

**********

Price glanced back at you trailing behind him and Kyle, your head somewhere else entirely. His stomach a mixture of butterflies and knots since this morning when he had woken up remembering how you had found him downstairs drunk, how you had been stood with just a T-shirt on, his T-shirt you had kept it, he thought about how it would smell like you now and how he wanted it back, or better yet wanted you two to share it.

If you hadn’t of stopped him last night he would have told you how he felt, how he had been feeling for some time and that maybe, just maybe you would be willing to give him a chance, and you would figure the rest out later, but this morning you seemed off somehow. Maybe you were just tired he knew how you could be with new places.

You noticed Price looking back at you every so often, each time you gave him a weak smile or just pretended you hadn’t clocked his looks. How long were you going to keep this up for? You didn’t have the right to be jealous, but the thoughts were swirling inside you making you stomach churn, he was going to want to talk to you at some point either about last night or just your shitty attitude in general.

“You ok back there, not going to fast for you are we?” Price stopped just a few feet ahead of you. His eyes giving you a secret “what's the matter” look as Kyle walked ahead to greet the herd of highland cows that had gather along the cobble wall.

“Im fine really, just tired couldn’t get back to sleep last night” you weren’t exactly lying. You glanced up at him finally making eye contact, he looked worried as though he had done something wrong, and he hadn’t, not really he had lied to you but it wasn’t really your business to know either he didn't owe you an explanation you just expected one and that was wrong of you, but you couldn't get the image of it out of your head every time you glanced at him there she was draped on his arm, nuzzled into his chest, face in the crook of his neck. Had he also given her this waterproof jacket to or even walked this same trail, what little trinket did he have in his room for her? It was bubbling up now spitting up an out you opened your mouth to speak but it was interrupted by a loud whistle, you both snapped round to see the herd of cows all marching away from the wall, but as they parted you noticed a tall man walking over to greet Kyle on the other side.

“Alright Pricey!” he waved over at you both his eyes giving you the once over before flashing a set of perfect white teeth. Price gave a little huff at the interaction walking over to the wall. You followed close behind. Pricey?

“Alright Luke mate, how’s things?” Price nodded his head at the man. As you got a closer look at him he seemed to forget Price had even spoke and instead watched as you walked around Price to stand near Kyle who was halfway over the wall stroking a baby cow.

“Yeh…good keeping these lots happy is busy work but the best kind” Luke nodded back to the herd of about 20 cows.

“I’ve been meaning to speak to you actually about the dead oak that’s round the back of the houses, I’ve got a mate who can get it moved for us I meant to knock on yesterday but seen you had guests…” His words trailed off as he glanced at you again giving you a wink. He was a brave one you thought. Price puffed his chest out once again. He was obviously irritated by the situation. Did Luke live next door to price?

“Yeh I'll get it sorted, give me you mates number ill give him a ring when I get chance got my hands full with these two this weekend”

You waved as you introduced yourself, giving Kyle a kick to do the same.

“Didn’t know you had Kids Pricey” Luke looked you and Kyle over, he must be joking right? You peered over at Price who was giving Luke that eye-crinkling smile but the patronizing one that was only reserved for when you had fucked up big time.

“Hahaha no not my kids, Luke I’m not that old, workmates, both city slickers coming to spend some time in the fresh outdoors!” You could see Price edging his way back from the wall. You would be lying if you didn't think Luke was handsome, he was a slightly bigger build than Price, dark brown hair from what you could see under his beanie hat and a big beard, his eyes a pale blue. What were you doing? You were staring and Luke noticed. He gave you a cheeky wink again causing your face to blush slightly and a smirk to tug at the corner of your mouth. Price cleared his throat.

“Anyway best be off, doing the waterfall walk then heading to the hound for an early Dinner” Price placed his hand on your shoulder and ever so gently started to push you.

“Oh no worries might join you for a drink later eh? You can tell me all about the big city…” there was that smile again. He had a look of arrogance, but he wore it well you thought.

“Yeh might see you there…if not ill be round later for that mate of yours number” Price was now steering you away from the nice man, the stranger with the cheeky grin. Luke whistled his cows again still looking at you as you walked away Price firmly at your back. If Price could have his Irish Doctor, why couldn’t you have your country Farmer?

******

The walk had taken longer than expected, so Price decided that it was best to just head straight to the Pub it was a short 10min walk, you secretly thought it was so you didn't run into Luke again.

You walked into the old Tudor building it was cosy the smell of wet pine and slightly stale beer filled your nose. The door frames were warped and Price and Kyle had to duck under most of them. As the waitress guided you to your table everyone let on to John and the pair of you two asking how he was and how he’d been keeping causing you to have to stop every few meters. When you finally got seated you were greeted by yet another woman who was overly friendly with Price and gave you the cold shoulder. She was probably a pleasant-looking woman when she was younger but the years and the cigarettes hadn’t been kind to her, skinny and blonde with too much red lipstick on. She spoke to Price as if they were old lovers. Oh great another one you thought.

“Well its good to see you John, really it is, we should do lunch sometime do you still have my number?” She stroked his arm handing him a business card. Kyle gave you a look and you had to bite your lip to stop from laughing.

“Yeh Tracey was lovely seeing you too, take care” Price waved her on.

“Old flame eh boss?” Kyle was pretending to browse the menu while shooting you a grin. Price shook his head a slight smile creeping on his face.

“Yeh you could say that, but way back when we were kids” Price looked over the business card.

“I'm sure she married actually…”

*******

You had all finished your meals and were now sat out in the main room of the pub, An old fella named Tommy was singing country road on the karaoke trying to get people up on the small stage with him. Price had been asked 3 times to sing, You told Kyle you would pay good money to witness that. You had all had a few drinks by now and you were feeling a little better the vodka had numbed the images and you could look Price in the eyes not for long but it made the atmosphere less tense. Price had noticed you had relaxed he still couldn't think what had changed overnight he had rattled his brain the entire hike he hadn’t said anything had he? Had he come on too strong did you know what he was going to say last night and stopped him to save yourself and him the embarrassment of turning him down, he did think deep down he was being an old fool. You were a bright young 24 year old why on earth would you want to be getting about with a nearly 40-year-old man but he couldn’t help but hope?

He watched you sing along you and Kyle shoulder-to-shoulder arms around each other. Not only did you light up the room you lit up something in him and he wasn't ready to give up on just yet. He decided he was going to have chat with you tomorrow morning, but for tonight he would just enjoy you here with him.

Just as Price was about to get another round in, he watched as your attention turned to the door your best smile on your face. He turned to see Luke walking over to the table his eyes trained on you as if the place was empty. Price felt his scalp prickle with anger, but surely he didn't have anything to worry about, you weren’t easily flattered with a flash smile and smooth words you weren't like other women. He stood up to greet Luke with a handshake, a firm handshake maybe a bit too firm as it caused Luke to break his eye contact with you and pat him on the shoulder.

“Easy there Pricey, don't know your own strength nearly crushed my hand! How are you Kyle mate” Luke reached out his hand to shake Kyles, who still had his arm around your shoulder singing, Kyle was a lightweight.

“He’s a little bit drunk” you shouted over the current singer, now , mumbling away to UB40’s “Red red wine”

“I can see that haha and what about you, you want another one?” He flashed that cheeky smile again.

“Go on then Vodka lime soda please” You downed your current one.

“Adda girl, wanna come to the bar you can help me back with the rest?”

You nodded, you didn't need to ask Kyle what he wanted you knew his choice of drink off by heart, Price would have another Whisky. Without even looking back you followed Luke to the bar. He smelt of fresh-cut grass and aftershave, it lingered around you. Standing at the bar he placed his hand on the other side of you enclosing you against it his chest pressed to your back, he was a bold one you thought, but you didn't mind, you could see Price looking over in the mirror behind the bar, he looked pissed off, but the pang of guilt didn't last long as Luke was now in your ear trying to talk to you over the load music you felt his cheek brush against yours his beard tickled your earlobe.

“So what is your do? you don’t look like a lorry driver?” Lorry driver? Oh was this what Price told people he did?

“Ohh no I'm not, I work in logistics back at the depot” you smirked. Logistics? Not far off well it was way off but it was nice to pretend haha if only he knew.

“Ohh so your the brains of the operation nice” His face a few inches from yours, you the brains of the operation? Price would be holding his sides laughing if he had heard that. The barmaid came over to take your order, she obviously had a thing for Luke as she was giving you the dirtiest look imaginable. But you couldn't blame her he was handsome. Your drinks came and you both made your back to the table. Kyle was now up on stage singing Neil Diamond's “Sweet Caroline” you gave him a wolf whistle.

“GO ON KYLE!!” Luke shouted above the crowd as they all joined in for the chorus. Price had a faint smile on his face but as he looked over at you it soon faded. Luke had made himself comfortable with you too comfortable for Price’s liking. As you handed him his whisky he tried to make eye contact with you and give you a ‘want me to get rid of him’ look, but as soon as he took his glass you turned your attention back to Luke and whatever he was saying that was making you giggle. His arm around the back of our chair leaning in that little bit too close, Price could feel his jaw clenching and turned his focus on Kyle who now had half the pub up singing with him. Even over the commotion, he could still hear you and Luke laughing, he could snap his neck he thought, it would be easy he’d done it before.

“So is there a Mr Tank” Luke cocked his eyebrow at you, you squinted your eyes at him smiling.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing, but no there isn’t, is there a Mrs. Highland cow?” You took a large swig of your drink nearly downing it. His eyes lit up.

“No there isn’t a Mrs highland cow, there was but we broke up about a year ago, she wanted to go live in the city and I wanted to stay here, thought I was going to marry her as well but things happen yah know” he looked down into his pint almost sad. You felt a slight pang in your heart for him. Loving something but having to let it go.

“The city isn’t all it's cracked up to be, not spent much time down here but I like it…could see myself living down here…” you meant it, you really liked the quiet and in your line of work you needed that escape. Price felt that telltale flutter in his chest at your words, you liked it down here and he was happy and willing to give you a home he thought.

“Well you’ve always got a room at mine whenever you want” Price gave your thigh a squeeze followed by a wink.

“I Don’t think Dr. O'Brien would appreciate us having sleepovers do you John?” You couldn't hide the snarl as the words left your mouth. Price’s face was a mixture of confusion and anger where had that come from?

Kyle and his backing singers were now onto their 3rd song of the night Kc & the sunshine band ‘Give it up’. Luke didn't have a clue what was going but could feel the tension like static in the air before a storm, so before the thunder rolled in he intervened.

“Hey come keep me company while I have a smoke…I’m dying to know more about the logistics of HGV driving” He tugged on your arm. You shot Price a look as you stood up, Luke draped his arm around you steering you out the back. Your blood was rushing through your body.

You weren't a little toy he could keep on a shelf to play with when he felt like it.

You were brought back round by the cold dusk air biting at your cheeks, you had forgot to bring your jacket out with you, but as if he had read your mind Luke opened his coat offering you shelter. He gave you a smirk at he lit his cigarette up with his other hand.

“Either get in here with me or you go back into whatever the fuck that was and get your coat? Your choice”

You didn't fancy heading back in so thought fuck it, and tried to wrap your arms around him he was broad and your hands couldn't quite reach so you opted for one clinging to the back of his jumper and the other resting on his chest and as you tucked yourself in he closed his coat over you both your face just popping out you could feel the sting of tears but blinked them away and instead basked in the calm warmth Luke was providing.

After a few moments Luke looked down at you.

“You ok in there? Warm enough?”

You nodded, this guy was a stranger not a few hours ago and now you were bundled up in his coat pressed against him, but you didn't care. Luke cleared his throat.

“It's not my place, but what’s the deal with you and Price? You guys have history or something?” He took another drag of his cigarette. History you and Price? Haha where could you even start? You had known him since you were 16, had been hand selected by him, fought side by side, been in dire situations and come out somewhat intact, you had taken a bullet for him he had kept your head above water. He reminded you that what you did mattered “We get dirty and the world stays clean” he had told you and Kyle that an you had both believed him. What you and Price were couldn’t be confined to just one sentence, so you didn't try.

“You could say that, but that's all it is history” you peered up at Luke his grey-blue eyes side-eyeing you.

“What?” You felt the slight flutter of butterflies. Luke didn't answer, instead he flicked his cigarette out and cupped your face pulling you up into a deep kiss, you opened your mouth allowing his ashtray-tasting tongue to explore your mouth. You could feel his heart beating fast under your hand as he tightened his other arm around you pulling you in closer. With one movement he had you trapped between the wall and his body trailing kisses down your neck. He smelt of cigarette smoke, beer and cut grass, it was different to Price’s cigars, whisky and smoked cedar but you didn't mind that.

“Tell me to stop…” he whispered softly kissing your jaw. You didn't want him to so you stayed silent, you looped your hands around his neck and jumped wrapping your legs around his waist, his hands automatically grabbing your arse. You continued your kiss, you could feel him getting hard through his jeans. Just as you both took a moment to catch your breath you heard the crunch of footsteps on the gravel path. It was probably one of the regulars coming out for a smoke. Luke put you down but cloaked you with his coat. Your warm breath mingled together in a cloud in the cold air. Luke gave you a cheeky smile his thumb stroking your cheek. He looked to see if the stranger had wandered back round to the front of the pub so you could continue, but his smile dropped. You heard the familiar gravelly voice of Your Captain.

“We’re heading back now Tank, Kyles had one too many” Your heart sank as he spoke you could hear the anger in his voice.

“Ok…I’ll be right behind you” your voice a low mumble. He must of heard as you could hear his footsteps walking away and back round to where he must of left Kyle. You dared to peek over Lukes coat seeing Price helping Kyle walk up the road.

“Where’s Tank, can’t leave her here Boss we come as a 3 pack!” Kyle was now clearly in distress trying to turn back around to find you, it tugged at your heart, but your were frozen to the spot.

“She’s alright lad, she's alright she’ll find her way back home” Price was rubbing kyles shoulder calming him down, pulling him back in the right direction. Luke looked down at you, his hand now on the back of your neck he pulled you into him for a hug and you let it happen, his slowing heart rate soothing you, you felt the prickle of tears forming and did you best to keep them at bay but one escaped causing you to sniffle.

“Let’s go have another drink eh? Getting cold out here” He kissed your cheek and lead you back inside.

********

You walked with Luke back home, he did after all live next door to Price. Luke made you laugh even though you didn't feel like it, it was nice.

“So do you run the farm by yourself?” You walked tucked into him you hand finding a loop on his coat to cling to.

“No I run it with my 4 brothers, so always someone to cover for me if I want to take some time off” He cocked his eyebrow at you, the hint didn't go unnoticed.

“Thought you didn't like the city?” You rolled your eyes dramatically.

“Never said I didn't like it, and besides think I have a reason to visit it more now” he pulled you in closer to him. You didn't mind the idea. Maybe this made more sense?

“An what reason would that be Luke?” You stopped just round the corner from the houses. Looking up at him a little smirk on your face. He answered you with a firm but gentle kiss.

“Good reason” you mumbled against his lips. You continued walking back to the houses, you glanced at Price’s house only the porch light was lit, the feeling of dread was slowly returning. Maybe he had gone to bed. Not that you owed him an explanation just as he didn't owe you one. You looked back at Luke he gave you that cheeky grin.

Would he still like you if he knew what you really did, would he still want to kiss you knowing what you had done. What about the scars that littered your body how would you explain them, you didn't have to with Price he understood he had ones to match yours. Would Luke understand? Would he kiss them and tell you he still thought you were beautiful? What about when you woke howling like a wounded animal in the night like you sometimes did, Price knew to handle you with care. Would Luke? When your bad temper flared would he know your bark was worse than you bite? Price knew it was. Stop it. Luke wasn't him but he was nice and you hoped he would understand all your shortcomings.

“Can I tempt you back to mine for a nightcap?” He looped his arms around your waist pulling you to him leaning against the wall like two teenagers. You thought about it, but didn't want to give him the wrong idea.

“Not tonight, but…” Luke stopped you.

“It’s ok I understand but can I at least get your number? Planning a trip to the city soon and need a tour guide” He flashed his perfect white teeth at you as he handed you his phone to put your number in. You did and gave him your direct line.

He lifted you chin up to face him, kissing you once again. He walked you to the door then broke away to return to his.

“Good night, city girl”

“Good night Luke”

************

You walked into the kitchen you needed a drink of water the butterflies had turned to lead weights inside your stomach.

“Have fun did we, he's a nice lad Luke?” Price’s voice made you jump, he was stood by the back door only the counter spotlights were on.

“I did actually,hows Kyle?” You tried your best to keep your voice level, even though your stomach was a pit of lava churning away.

“Oh he's fine nothing a good kip won't sort out, he's made a few friends tonight, but he's not the only one is he?”

“What's that supposed to mean John?”

“Nothing, how's that going to work out anyway? You going to tell him what you really do? Or are you just going to let him think you work in logistics?”

“I don't know JOHN! how does the Irish Doctor feel about what you do? Helen is that her name? Did you talk about it when she was here last? Bit of war criminal pillow talk? Bet she would love to hear about some of the things I’ve witnessed you do!” you were shouting now the anger crawling to the surface. Price was silent for a moment, his mouth upturned his brow furrowed.

“What are you on about? You mentioned her earlier in the pub what has she got to do with any of this Tank?”

“Really? You gonna continue to play dumb? You fucking dickhead!”

Price had made his way over to you in two strides, he was right in your face now.

“What are you on about!” The anger in his voice rattle your bones. But you stood your ground.

“I found her knickers John, under your fucking bed the other night! You said she came when the house wasn't even finished! It looks fucking finished to me! You had the cheek to lie to my face in this very kitchen and here, you stood here saying you had something to get off your chest, well get it off your fucking chest now JOHN!” You were raging. His heart plummeted. It all made sense now, he didn't want you to find out like that.

“…it was a one-time thing she was here, we were drunk…it didn't mean anything…like I said she talks too much…” He placed his hand on your shoulder. You shrugged it off. He could see the hurt in your eyes your lip starting to quiver.

“You know what it doesn’t matter you don't owe me an explanation…you know what never mind how Me and Luke would work, or you an Helen…how would this even work? Me and you? Tell me John…”

He looked you dead in the eye, he was starting to think he didn't know either, maybe he had been fooling himself. He knew what he had to do.

“You know what…It wouldn’t work, would it…” he hung his head, he couldn't meet your eyes. He felt hopeless. You were better off with someone else. Deep down you wanted him to tell you it would work, that you could make it work, but his expression had changed, you didn’t recognise him. No you did he wasnt John anymore he was Captain Price, your Captain all sense of familiarity gone just like that…

“I'm sorry if I’ve acted in anyway inappropriately this weekend, but just so we are clear our relationship will be strictly professional from now on” He glanced out the window, he was fighting to keep his heart from shattering. He wished he hadn’t looked at you when he did the light was draining from you like a dying star collapsing in on itself, he had caused that.

If only there was another way to do this, it felt like murder to put you through this, He had promised to never hurt you, but here he was slowly choking out the fire you had both started. It was better this way…not for him but for you he had to believe that or else he would cling to the hope and drag you down with him. Really he wanted you to kick and scream call him stupid and that it would work that you could make it work, but he knew you needed better, no you deserved better.

Inside you were screaming ‘Don’t do this to me please John” but all you could muster was

“Ok I understand, I'll get the train back in the morning. Tell Kyle I said goodbye…”

“You don't have to get the train back, I'll drive you…”

“No it's ok, I'm going to head to bed…Night John…sweet dreams”

“Night kid…sweet dreams..”

As you walked up the stairs and out of earshot, Price allowed himself to crumble slamming his fist onto the countertop.

Had he just made the biggest mistake, he wouldn't know as by the morning you were gone just like you said leaving a note under the Little tank in your room that read:

“Thanks again for a nice weekend John, yours always, Tank”

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