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louisapennyfeather2021 · 4 years ago

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Can you do a Jack Kelly sister x race or Albert (up to you) and Jack finds you guys kissing and is about to kill race or Albert. Then you all sit down and Jack gives the classic dad talk. This could be plantonic Jack/ race or Albert love. (You also don’t have to make it a sister I’m just a girl myself haha)

I finally made myself do this, mostly because I said I'd have it done by Friday and that's in less than four hours, but I'll(hopefully) make it happen!!! Have I finished my essay? Of course not, but I did finished my math tests! Planned procrastination is somewhat effective, right?

Anywho, here it is!

Relationships: Brother!Jack, Reader x Albert

Pronouns: She/Her as the person who asked did clarify that she is a girl :)

(psst... I can always make this with they/them pronouns if anyone would like that)

A/N: This is definitely not my best work, but it's not bad!!! I always feel awkward trying to write Dad Talks, but never enough to not write them at all!!! Maybe it'll help that I'm awkward with it so it'll be projected onto my work haha!

Warnings: some kissing, a bad word or two. That's about it? Oh, also, I'm really bad at writing kissing stuff lmao

Setting: 1899 Duane Street Lodging House

***

"No, Y/N, you gotta wear ya cap right or ya gonna look like ya ain't got hair." Jack snatches Y/N's hat from off her head before flipping it and placing it on her head correctly.

"Jack, cut it out! Ain'tcha got somethin' better t' do?" Y/N swats at her brother's hand, ducking to avoid his mother hen behavior.

"He ain't got nothin' t' do cause he's too busy hoverin'." Crutchie snorts from where he sits on the front steps of the lodging house. Jack throws a half-hearted glare at Crutchie, which gives Y/N enough time to sneak past Jack and hurry down the street towards Newsies Square.

"Hey, where d'ya think yer goin'?" Jack calls. Y/N huffs and shakes her head before looking over her shoulder. As soon as she does, she takes off sprinting down the street, Jack chasing her down. Y/N squeezes past some of the guys that are making their way down the street, successfully managing to not completely shove Jojo into a walk on accident.

It's not unusual for Jack to be so overbearing, specifically with Y/N. Sure, he's oddly protective over all the Newsies, but he practically turns into a bear with Y/N. Jack says it's because she's his "baby sista' 'nd nothin's ever gonna happen to no sister o' mine."

Y/N understands to an extent, of course, but it makes some things, well, difficult. Specifically hanging out with friends. Or maybe someone who's more than a friend.

"Someone's rushin' this mornin'." Racetrack Higgins snorts as Y/N hurries to duck behind him and Buttons. Both wait outside the gates for Weasel to come open them. Albert leans on the gate opposite of Race, raising an amused eyebrow at Y/N. She playfully narrows her eyes at him before breathing a sigh.

"Just my parasite of a brotha'. Again." Y/N grumbles. Jack treats her like she's still a kid, when really she's just a year and a half younger than him. To some folks, that's a lot, but when you're forced to grow up on the streets of New York, it's just numbers.

"Ain't like he's doin' it for nothin'." Race scoffs a laugh, sharing a knowing look with Buttons before glancing between Albert and Y/N where she's still hiding behind the two smirking boys.

"Oh, shuddup. Jack ain't gotta worry about what he don't know about." Y/N glares pointedly at both Race and Buttons.

"Don't worry, I've kept Racer from hawkin' yer secret t' all of Manhattan." Buttons shoves Race's shoulder. Race squawks in protest and he starts arguing with Buttons. Y/N laughs, knowing Race would keep her secret no matter what. It's just funny to see Buttons get a rise out of Race.

"Could be worse. Buttons could'a taken his cigar." Albert chuckles, although he absentmindedly rubs his upper arm. He's learned the hard way not to take the blond boy's comfort object. However, that doesn't keep him from occasionally stealing it.

"You'd know how that turns out." Y/N sneaks behind Race as he argued with Buttons and stands next to Albert. She doesn't stand too close, especially since Jack is probably on his way with the rest of the fellas.

The last thing Y/N needs is for Jack to get suspicious of her and her relationships.

So Y/N just leans on the gate near Albert, both laughing as Race and Buttons start on a tangent. Eventually the others gather around, Jack and Crutchie being the last to actually show up. As soon as he's at the gate, Jack starts fussing over Y/N's hat again. She smacks his hand away and glares at him, receiving a horribly hidden laugh from Albert.

"Would you stop swattin', I'm tryin' t' make ya not look like a hooligan." Jack huffs.

"You know we're a bunch'a kids that sell papes for a livin', right? Hooligan is the nicest thing folks can call us." Y/N rolls her eyes. Jack opens his mouth to respond, but he doesn't get the chance. Instead, the sound of the gates rattling and snarky comments fills the air. Y/N turns to see none other than Oscar and Morris Delancey hesitantly opening the gates.

"What, no hello?"

"Wake up on the wrong side'a the cave this mornin'?"

"Aw, did'ya not have someone t' tuck ya in last night?"

The jabs make Y/N's face go red to hide her laughs. The dramatic eye rolls and frowns on the Delancey Brothers' faces are pure gold. Y/N doesn't doubt that either brother would go after any Newsie if it wouldn't get them in some trouble. After all, good ol' Mr. Pulitzer needs someone to make money for him.

As some of the guys keeps teasing the brothers, Y/N sneaks past them with Buttons, Albert following not too far behind. The three line up to get their papers, waiting for Weasel to slither his way to the distribution stand.

"Alright, line it up!" As if hearing his name, the Weasel himself stands grumpily behind his money box.

"Mornin' Weasel! Long time, no see!" Y/N grins brightly. The annoyed twitch under Weasel's left eye is enough to make Y/N snort.

"Not long enough." He grumbles.

"Aw, don't be such'a grump." Y/N mock pouts. She pulls a dime from her pocket and flips it onto the money box before moving down to take a stack of papers. She's grateful when Morris hands her the stack, although he does it with a sneer. Nice to know he's not specifically angry at her, at least not angry enough to throw her papers at her like he'll likely do to Jack and definitely to Race.

Y/N waits by the gates for her selling partner, aka the one and only Albert DaSilva. Thankfully Jack hasn't picked up on the Y/N and Albert almost always being partners. They switched it up once and a while to throw off any suspicion, but they're usually selling together. After all, it's one of the only times they can be together without the worry of Jack seeing.

"Ain'tcha sweet for waitin' for me?" Albert teases as he reaches the gate, his head down as he organizes his stack of papers in his bag.

"We both know you'd get lost if I let'cha go alone." Y/N snorts a laugh. She successfully ducks a playful swat from Albert before she looks over his shoulder. She sees Jack taunting Weasel and she knows she has a few seconds to leave before her brother chases her down. "C'mon, best we get a head start on Jack."

"Well stop screwin' around then." Albert grins and hurries out of the square, Y/N right on his heels.

They hurry through the streets of Manhattan towards the Brooklyn bridge. They usually take up selling along the waterfront, sometimes a few blocks around the bridge. They mostly sell at the bridge because it's one of the furthest spots from where Jack sells. Meaning they can hang out once they finish selling morning papers in peace.

"Bet I can sell all my papes b'fore you can even hawk a headline." Albert elbows Y/N's arm as they reach the bridge, the area slowly coming to life as people hurry to get to work.

"You're on." Y/N smirks before hurrying across the street to start selling.

The two spend most of the morning selling, taking a few small breaks to hide in the shade of an alleyway from the July sun. Y/N manages to finish selling her last paper just a few minutes after Albert. The red head is all smirks when he notices Y/N finish after him.

"Don't come smirkin' at me, you bet that you could sell out before I even started. You didn't say nothin' about finishin' first." Y/N points a finger at Albert as they turn down one of the alleyways behind the produce market. Y/N holds an apple in hand and Albert has a pear.

"Should'a bet I'd win first, that way I'da got a free lunch." Albert sighs dramatically and takes a bite of his pear. Y/N rolls her eyes for what feels like the millionth time today before eating her apple.

"I still don't see how ya eat those things." Y/N mumbles.

"I don't see how you can't!" Albert scoffs before finishing his pear.

"Too sweet. And soft, they make a mess." Y/N shrugs and takes another bite of her apple.

"You just can't handle how sweet pears are cause you're so bitter." Albert laughs. Y/N's mouth drops open and she doesn't hesitate to throw the core of her apple at Albert, effectively hitting his neck. Albert gapes, although there's a slight upturn at the corner of his lips. "Low blow, Kelly!"

"Aw, did I hurt the your ego on accident?" Y/N can't hold back the laugh the bubbles up from deep in her stomach. Albert gives her a "seriously?" look before he jumps at her. Y/N accidentally let's out a panicked squeak before turning. She gets a few steps before Albert wraps his arms around her and squeezes her into a hug from behind. "No fair!"

"I think you should apologize." Albert hums, his chin on top of Y/N's head. She's not short, but the way she's standing makes it easy for Albert to rest his chin in top of her head.

"Do you realize how awkward this is?" Y/N squirms. Her feet are in front of her and she's practically leaning against Albert, it's almost like she's trying to sit down. "Seriously, I think you're gonna break my back."

"Apologize 'nd I'll let go." Albert starts swaying back and forth, making Y/N grip his arms and shuffle her feet to keep from completely slipping to the ground.

"Ain't got nothin' t' apologize for." Y/N finished the sentence in time for Albert to sway further and nearly drop Y/N on her bottom. She squeaks again, making the obnoxious red head laugh and try to keep a firm grip on her so she won't fall.

"You're ridiculous." Albert shuffles back and helps Y/N stand up, laughing when she huffs in annoyance. Albert moves around to stand in front of Y/N, his arms crossed as he meets her faux annoyed expression. "I still think you owe me 'n apology."

"I don't see no reason why." Y/N shrugs, although the corners of her mouth twitch up into a horribly suppressed smile.

"That's a lousy thing t' say." Albert pouts, receiving a raised eyebrow from Y/N. The girl takes a small step closer to Albert and shrugs her shoulders slightly.

"Lousy ain't always bad." Y/N jokingly winks. Albert shakes his head with a laugh before naturally gravitating closer to Y/N. She follows until her nose bumps Albert's, the two of them getting closer until Y/N closes her eyes and feels Albert's mouth lightly touch hers.

Y/N hums into the kiss as Albert reaches up and rests his hand on the side of her neck. She follows, her hand gently wrapping around Albert's wrist and her thumb rubbing the soft skin. She can't help but smile as she moves her mouth againsr Albert's. This is far from the first time they've kissed, but with how little time they get to spend together, every kiss feels like the first.

Y/N still gets butterflies in her stomach. She still gets that happy high afterwards.

But even the happy high can end in a snap.

"Oh, hell no." Y/N's eyes snap open and she quickly pulls away from Albert. Her wide eyes meet Jack's furious frown as he stands near the mouth of the alleyway. Behind him, Race stands with an apologetic expression, Crutchie next to him with a hand over his mouth like he's holding in a laugh.

"Oh boy." Y/N whispers. Albert turns around, his expression matching Y/N's.

"Hey, Jack..." Albert awkwardly waves at the fuming boy.

"You're dead, DaSilva." And that's all it takes for Albert to bolt down the other end of the alleyway, Jack right on his heels. Y/N just stares in shocked silence, hardly noticing Race and Crutchie come to a stop next to her.

"I swear, I tried to distract him." Race rushes, although Y/N doesn't seem to hear as she opens and closes her mouth in shock.

"You are so in for it." Crutchie busts out laughing.

I'm so dead, Y/N thinks.

***

"Jack, you need t' calm down!"

"Calm down?! He was suckin' my sista's face!"

"Oh, no, gross, that's definitely not what we were doin'."

"You stay out of this!"

"Okay, everyone shuddup!" Y/N yells from one corner of the rooftop of the lodging house. Crutchie leans against the fire escape, watching and occasionally throwing in a comment or two. Jack paces around the roof, eyes narrowed in on Albert. The red head stands near the edge of the roof, as if he's ready to make a break for it if need be. Y/N stands somewhat between Albert and her fuming brother, sort of like a last resort for a barrier between the two. Y/N faces her brother, her arms crossed under her chest and her mouth set in a thin line. "Jack, it was just'a kiss 'nd I like Albert. S'nothin' wrong with that."

"Nothin' wrong with that? Everything's wrong with that! You're my sista', Albert's s'posed t' be my pal! Seein you two lockin' lips is just-" Jack wiggles around and gags, his nose scrunching up.

"Oh, we are not having this conversation because the thought of your sister kissin' a boy makes ya uncomfy." Y/N rolls her eyes before planting her hands in her hips.

"She has a point." Crutchie comments. Jack whines and shuffles around like he's about ready to throw himself off the rooftop.

"That don't change the fact that it's gross and weird and just wrong. She's my sister." Jack stares down Albert and points at Y/N.

"Yeah, 'nd it just so happens I was kissin' someone you know and trust! S'not like I was kissin' a Delancey or nothin'." Y/N's comment makes the other three on the roof gag and squirm uncomfortably. "Oh, we all know it's true!"

"Doesn't mean we wanna hear it." Albert shivers in disgust.

"Alright alright alright." Jack exhales heavily. He paces a few more times, shakes his head and pursing his lips. Y/N waits in silence with Albert and Crutchie, all three knowing Jack needs a second. When he finally stops pacing, all the attention trains in on him. "Fine, okay, s'not the worst thing ever, I'm gonna set some ground rules."

"What?!"

"Seriously?" Y/N whines, something she unfortunately shares with her older parasite- um, brother.

"Yes. Now I d'know how long this has been goin' on, but I'm sayin' right now that we will not be havin' any littles-"

"I'm gonna be sick." Y/N gags, and it's unfortunately a legitimate gag that makes bile sting the back of her mouth. Albert must inhale sharply and start choking on his spit because he starts coughing obnoxiously. Even Crutchie, who had found the whole situation so hilarious, looks like he's going to be sick.

"Oh, quit it ya pansies." Jack huffs. He angles towards Albert, his eyes narrowed again. "'Nd you. If you hurt my sista' in any way, I swear you'll find yourself swimmin' in the East River in no time."

"I'm definitely not planning on it." Albert manages to say before coughing and clearing his throat, his eyes watery from coughing.

"Good." Jack nods in satisfaction. He looks at the sky and seems to ponder before signing. "Get'a move in, gonna have evenin' papes out soon."

Albert throws an anxious look at Y/N before hurrying to the fire escape. He disappears, Crutchie quickly following and leaving the Kelly siblings alone.

"Y'know, ya could'a told me." Jack's shoulders sag. Y/N kicks her foot awkwardly, her eyes trained in the ground.

"Not if it risked ya reactin' the way ya did t'day." Y/N mutters. She looks up to see Jack sigh and move closer to her.

"I can definitely tell ya I wouldn't have chased him down." Jack snorts.

"I guess that would've been a perk." Y/N hums. She meets Jack's gaze and suddenly the two start laughing. Jack reaches over and playfully shives Y/N's shoulder.

"C'mon, weirdo. We got papes t' sell." Jack shakes his head.

Y/N smiles and follows him off the roof.

That's one crisis averted.

Granted, they still have the rest if the day left.

#Newsies #newsies #newsies broadway #newsies imagine #newsies memes #newsies imagines #newsies x reader #albert imagine #albert dasliva #albert dasilva #albert newsies #albert x reader #albert dasilva x reader #jack kelly #brother!jack kelly #jack newsies #sister reader #she/her pronouns

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tiny-cacti-magnet · 3 years ago

Text

God of Loss

Part One: If It's Small Enough to Carry — Snippet Four

<<<—Prev | Next—>>>

Summary: Tommy woke up to a missing Tubbo and an open window that let sunlight stream down onto his face. The door to the bedroom was left slightly ajar, leaking in noise from the kitchen below, quiet talking and the clatter of dishes. He pressed his face back into the pillow and went back to sleep, unwilling to think about anything at all.

But life didn’t work that way.

—

Or: The AU of New Deceit's an Old Design where Karl doesn't show up right away, and Tommy mourns his brother's death.

Warnings: Major Character Death, Heavy Angst, Grief/Mourning.

Note: This is an extended deleted scene from New Deceit's an Old Design continuing after chapter four. You all asked for this.

Tommy woke up to a missing Tubbo and an open window that let sunlight stream down onto his face. The door to the bedroom was left slightly ajar, leaking in noise from the kitchen below, quiet talking and the clatter of dishes. He pressed his face back into the pillow and went back to sleep, unwilling to think about anything at all.

But life didn’t work that way.

A few minutes later, Tubbo appeared in the doorway still in pyjamas, entering the room and digging through his closet. He brought a yellow hoodie to his nose and smelled it before tossing it to Tommy, then pulled a pair of jeans out of the bottom drawer.

“For you,” he said with a slight smile, sliding out the door again with only his eyes poking around the edge. “I’ll leave so you can change.” The door softly closed behind him.

Tommy reluctantly pulled himself out of the warm covers to change out of his—well, Tubbo’s—pyjamas. He pulled the hoodie over his head, drawing the strings tightly so that it left a single opening for his face, then opened the door to find Tubbo in the hall on his phone.

“Hey, Bossman,” he greeted quietly. “How are you feeling?”

Tommy lightly shrugged his shoulders. “Like shit.”

He nodded. “Understandable. Breakfast?”

“Have you eaten yet?”

Tubbo shook his head. “Wanted to eat with you.”

The thought of going downstairs and talking to people sent a wave of nausea through his stomach that almost made him refuse breakfast entirely. “Can we—” Tommy swallowed, voice thick and throat aching, “—can we eat up here?”

“Sure thing.”

Tubbo darted back downstairs as Tommy took a seat on the couch, pulling one of the spare blankets from the bed to wrap around his shoulders. His friend returned in less than a few minutes with two plates of pancakes, drizzled over with maple syrup and sliced strawberries.

Tommy took his plate with shaking hands. Pancakes were only for Christmas and Tommy’s birthday. Wilbur wasn’t a fan of them, but he’d let Tommy have the sweet breakfast treat a couple of times a year.

He pried his thoughts away from his brother and picked up the fork, quickly digging in and devouring the warm meal in less than five minutes. Primes, he was starving after hardly eating anything for a whole day.

Tubbo ate slower, taking his time with cutting the pancakes into little squares and matching each piece with a sliver of strawberry. “We should probably get some of your stuff,” he said through a bite.

“From my place?”

“Unless you have clothes elsewhere?”

Tommy shook his head. “I don’t.”

“Sometime this afternoon?” Tubbo suggested. “I mean, it’s already noon, so maybe in an hour or two?”

Tommy shrugged. “Sure. That works.”

—

He couldn’t do this.

Tommy had spent the entire car journey here giving himself a very long pep talk. And yet, standing outside the door of his building, he found himself panicking. He shook his head at the door when Tubbo waited there for him to take out his key.

“Can’t—” he got out before his voice broke.

“Hey, it’s okay. Why don’t… why don’t you give me the keys, and I’ll grab some clothes and shit for you?”

Tommy nodded, sinking to a crouch on the disgusting pavement of the alleyway outside that always smelled like piss. “Okay.” He rested his forehead on his crossed arms on top of his legs.

“Okay. What do I need to get?”

Tommy swallowed the lump in his throat that had sealed his air pipes. “In the closet—the left shelf is mine and the right one is—is Wil’s.” (Was, his traitorous mind reminded him). He took a deep, shuddering breath. “My backpack’s on one of the chairs, I think. Or the floor. Probably the floor, actually.”

“Anything else?”

“Phone’s on the counter, and…” he trailed off, thinking about what else was in their apartment. “Water bottle’s in the kitchen. Top cabinet above the sink. The purple toothbrush is mine, and there’s a small sewing kit on the windowsill.”

Tubbo nodded, eyes trailing off as he repeated the list. “Left shelf, backpack, phone, water bottle is in the cabinet above the sink, purple toothbrush, and sewing kit by the window.”

Tommy handed him his key ring, a small Pokémon charm hanging off the side to identify it as his. Wil’s had a little globe in sepia colours, a gift from Niki for his birthday last year.

Tubbo disappeared into the building after gently shoving at the back door.

He came back a few minutes later with Tommy’s backpack slung over one shoulder and a black duffle bag over the other.

“Got everything?” Tommy asked, standing on cramped legs.

Tubbo hummed. “I’ve got you.” He handed off the duffle bag to Tommy. “This shit’s really heavy, so if you could just—”

Tommy took the bags from him.

Tubbo sighed in relief, stretching out his shoulders. “Thank you.”

He lightly snorted at him. “That was only two flights of stairs, Tubbo. And going down.”

“Yes, yes,” his friend waved him off. “I know. I have the stamina of a paper straw, or whatever.”

“It’s a pretty flimsy paper straw, Tubso. Just saying,” he teased lightly.

“Thank you,” he said dryly, ignoring the way that a small smile crept in at the edges of Tommy’s face, the first he’d seen of his friend in days.

Tommy didn’t mention it either, but he felt a tiny, singular, piece slide back into place.

#dsmp fic #dsmp ndaod #dsmp fanfic #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp ndaod god of loss #tommyinnit angst #tommy innit #major character death #tubbo #angst #please sob

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stachmousworld · 4 years ago

Text

Four is definitely a crowd (18+😈) part 2

Pairing: Sam/OC of color (OCoC); Bucky/OCoC; Tony/OCoC; Steve/OCoC

Tags: ddlg (daddy little girl) theme, daddy kink, breeding/pregnant kink, orgy (4 men + 1 woman), borderline non-con at the beginning, degradation kink - name calling, treated like a toy, MC “fights back” but she is 100% consenting -, dom/sub drop, spitting, anal, fingering, spanking, no protections, blowjobs, cunnilingus, double penetrations.

There is an absurd amount of “Daddy” being pronounced in this fic, so if it’s not your cup of tea, don’t read.

Part 1 -

“Color, baby.”

“Green,” she whispered with no hesitation.

“Good girl,” he replied before kissing her forehead.

Tony turned over to Sam.

“Sam, if you may. My big girl’s cunt is quite hungry and needs to be bred.”

“Sam?!” She exclaimed shocked. Realization finally sitting in when she felt Sam’s dick rubbing on her clit.

“Daddy, not Sam. Little girls like you can’t talk like that.”

There was a pregnant pause, where Sam was still rubbing the head of his dick against her slit. This was a moment of truth.

“Daddy,” she said with a small voice.

“Good girl. I may not be as long than your Daddy but you’re going to feel me real good,” he warned her, before sliding slowly in.

“Daddy”, she moaned loudly, face scrunched in concentration.

“Yes, Tony, fuck…you told us she was tight, but her pussy is gripping me like a vice.”

He paused as he was balls deep.

“She took me so well, God. What a good girl, he complimented while caressing and pinching her nipples.

“Thank you…Daddy,” she moaned.

“Don’t thank me now, I still need to breed you and release my load into your tight little cunt.” Sam chuckled. “God, you like when Daddy talks dirty to you.”

She shook her head.

“Are you saying that I’m a liar?” He asked darkly.

“No! No! Daddy, I…” she huffed annoyed struggling to say her words. “I didn’t know I’d like Daddy to talk dirty to me. Daddy told me not to be ashamed but…it made me feel funny…” They all stopped breathing for a second waiting for her to continue. “in my cunt.”

Sam and Tony groaned loudly while the others stayed silently.

“Good girl, I know, it was hard to admit.”

She nodded slowly and Sam started to thrust. His hips met hers at every count and the sound of flesh against flesh resonated in the room. He hands roamed her body slowly, relishing the sweet sounds coming out of her. She was panting and groaning at each thrust. Sam couldn’t stop watching his hard cock being swallowed by her cunt. And the watery sounds…he closed his eye, trying to stop himself from coming.

“How does it feel?” Tony asked her.

“Nglr…Large too large…can’t thi…”

“More than Daddy?”

“Yes!” She screamed in the room, as Sam angled himself differently. That was it. It took him a few more thrusts for her to come wildly on his dick and a few more for Sam to come deep inside of her. He almost fell over as the pleasure hit him square in the groins. He lifted her hips and thrusted harshly as his cum filled her completely.

He chased the deep end of his release. Then leaned towards her to give kiss. It was more tongue and saliva than normal, and it did nothing to diminish his climax, instead it made him come more, if that was possible.

For a few minutes, the rest of them could only hear their breaths and watch as Sam lost himself in the throes of pleasure.

“Daddy, how…how is it possible? You are still coming,” she asked, dazed.

They all smiled at her raspy voice. Sam kissed her softly and sighed when she opened her mouth. What a sweet little girl. He caressed her nipples and squeezed them as she moaned softly in his mouth. He could still feel his dick twitch as he was releasing himself.

It was really the first time he had the chance to fuck someone raw and to release himself in Tony’s sweet little girl was a little bit overwhelming.

The two others were having trouble controlling themselves. Tony and Sam did have their release but not Steve and Bucky, who were still standing next to the bed. Steve was still eyeing the anal plug and tried not to squeeze to tight the bottle of lube in his hand. Time for the grand finale.

Steve winked at Bucky and pointed at the bed. Bucky smirked knowingly. They both had a bigger and longer dick than the others and they knew she’d be loose by now to take them with no problem.

“I may not be bigger than your Daddy, but I have bigger balls,” he replied jokingly.

“Maybe physically but not in every area,” retorted Tony in the same tone.

Sam stood up and eased out. He wiped the rest of the cum on her slit and backed away. Tony let her lay on the bed and let Bucky take his position. He was laying on his back next to her, who looked spent.

They didn’t know if she could honestly take it, and they didn’t really care. If Sam and Tony had their time, they’ll have theirs. Bucky gripped her and rolled her on his stomach. She was now straddling him, her head laying on his shoulder. She tried to stand on all four, when the bed dipped. Steve straddled Bucky’s legs and stood just behind her.

“What? I can’t Daddy, please, no more,” she cried, sobbing softly in Bucky’s arms.

Before Tony could reply, Bucky replied:

“Don’t care. You let them fuck that sweet little cunt and not us. Don’t you want to make us feel good?”

Silence. Bucky smiled mischievously.

“Anyway, you said you wanted all of our dicks to breed you. I’m sure you can take mine. Meanwhile Steve is going to destroy that little arsehole of yours.”

“No! I never…I never…”

“It’s okay, baby girl. It’s okay, we are going to make you feel good and even if you won’t come again, you’ll stay pliant and calm, for us to use and breed…”

Silence again. Except for her sobbing which didn’t match with the way she was trying to rub herself on them. Bucky reached for her butt, but his hands were slapped away by Steve.

“I take that as a yes, but I’ll need your color, baby girl,” said Tony, with a hoarse voice.

“Green,” she cried, clutching at Bucky’s shoulders.

Bucky caressed her body a few times to calm her down and felt Steve touch his cock and positioned it on her entrance.

“Wait…wait…” She said panicked, the rest was lost in her scream and his moan. He had slid home swiftly. God, they were right. She was tight. Even after being fucked by Tony and Sam she still felt tight around him. He couldn’t feel the pain of her nails on his shoulder. Without waiting for her to accommodate, he circled his hips making her clench against his girth. He thrusted a little bit out and in, never too fast or slow. He let his head lean back and closed his eyes. They definitely should have done it sooner. A particularly well-placed thrust made her breath hitch.

“Da…ddy…” She moaned, as she relaxed against him.

Bucky hid his smirk and noticed that the others finally relaxed. They knew Bucky and they knew how unpredictable he could be, but he’ll never hurt his little girl, which was quite the surprise. They had never seen him being so into a girl and it had to be Tony’s.

She jerked away, but Steve’s hand on her back pushed her back.

“Relax, it is just me, Daddy Steve. Bucky is going to breed your pussy and me your ass. If we had time, I’d eat you out…” He said with a hint of disappointment.

Steve’s fingers replaced the plug and opened her nice and loose. Bucky could feel the fingers through the wall of her vagina. He clutched his eye close, knowing that Steve’s horse dick would feel so good against his. He tightened his grip on her cheeks.

“I think it is enough,” Steve said humming.

He put on a condom and more lube on his penis, on her hole and a little bit more on his penis, then he scooted forward. Her whine when he pulled out his finger out of her sloppy wet arse, made his dick twitched.

“Don’t worry, baby, Daddy Steve, is going to give you something better.”

“Better, huh?” Bucky asked smirking.

Steve rolled his eyes and concentrated on his task. He rubbed the tip of his dick against her quivering hole, clenching on nothing but air. He pretended to slide but ended up rubbing his whole length between her cheeks.

“More…”

“You hear our little girl, Steve? Begging to be fucked by you…can’t let her be disappointed.”

Steve behind the banter could hear the edge of desperation. He knew he was torturing Bucky and basked in that feeling of control.

She was thrusting her hips onto his, desperately, taking Bucky deeper at the same time. He smirked and decided to cut the slow torture. He put his tip against her still open hole and pressed forward, enough for the entire tip to open her.

Bucky and she gasped. Bucky because he could feel the pressure on his dick and the balls of Steve onto his, and she, because well, she was getting fuller by the minute and was suffering from sensory overload.

Steve took a deep breath and pushed forward, then paused. He thrusted in and out working his entire length inside her. It was tedious. She was tight. Really tight. And hot and her walls were spamming around him. But she made sure to stay calm and relax, as much as she could. For a virgin ass, she was taking him really well. He wasn’t a small size and knew it was rare for a partner to accept to bottom for him or take it in the arse, but her…

He could feel his eyes tingling. God, he was going to cry…What the hell. He thrusted a last time and totally sheathed in. He took his time to breath and reflect out loud and praise his little girl.

“My sweet baby girl, you took me so well, he said tears in his eyes. So well for a first time. No one wants to take your Daddy Steve because he is big, but you didn’t it. You are warming my dick quite nicely. I don’t think I’ll let you go. I’ll have to fuck you before I go to work and after, just to see that little hole of yours accommodate on my dick.”

All of them were stunned, except for her, who was mewling and circling her hips. Bucky bit his lips. They all knew that it was difficult for Steve to find a girl or a boy capable of taking him and that it was their little girl who achieved that, while she was taking a equally huge dick in her pussy made them all aware of how life changing it’d be for all of them, and how their dynamics would change.

Steve thrusted all the way out to thrust slowly in. There was still a little resistance at the rim, but the walls let him in quite easily. He thrusted a few times changing his angles to make it easier on her, when Bucky also started to move in and out. She was constricted between Steve and Bucky and couldn’t move. They could do anything to her, and they did.

They entered both holes at the same time in a swift motion. Steve pushed deep and deep angling his dick so he could press better on Bucky’s. She was just a fleshlight. Something to use and their little girl did just fine. They will have time in the future, to be gentler, but not now.

Slick, cum, and lube was pooling under their bodies, but none cared. Steve felt Bucky speeding up and did as much before he stopped him, gripping his dick out. Bucky yelled angrily and tried to pry his dick away but couldn’t. Steve took off the condom and threw it on the floor.

“What the…” Bucky started.

She screamed their names from the top of her lungs, and they would have been worried if she didn’t take them so well. Both of them. In her cunt. He couldn’t hear anything, blood rushing into his head. His hips thrusted in with Bucky. At the same time in and out, then one out and the other in, until Bucky climaxed deep in her. Steve kept on thrusting in lost in the feelings of Bucky’s cum pooling over his tip and being sucked by her cervix.

She was a mess. She didn’t seem conscious except for her unintelligible babbles, but Steve was sure she could feel them. As he got faster, he felt a hot coil in his stomach snap, his balls tightening and…God! He saw white for a few seconds, his hips thrusting until he wasn’t cumming anymore.

“Good gracious, Lord, I think you fucked my Little girl til Kingdom to come,” said Tony appreciatively.

Bucky and Steve circled their hips, pressing against each other trying to maximize the contact with each other and her, before gently sliding away. She didn’t even whine or move at the loss of contact. Bucky stayed with her laying on top of him and tried to regain some strength when Tony rolled her over. She was on her back, breathing heavily, eyes closed. Her body bared the mark of their hands and bites. And in between, her legs... no cum.

“God, Tony,” said Sam whistling. “She is really a hoover.”

Tony laughed caressed her slightly round belly. Full of their cum.

“Yeah, I didn’t lie to you. She’s going to stay like that for a moment before the flood.”

They stayed silent for a couple of minutes before Tony went to the side and took multiple bottles of water, a bucket with a towel and some sweets. He handed it out the bottles and the sweets and kept one.

He placed the towel under her lower body and made sure to not hurt her.

“Baby girl,” he said soothingly.

She scrunched her nose but didn’t reply. The others looked at her with some kind of anxiety. They hadn’t been exactly gentle with her and they were afraid that she’d hate them for that.

“Baby girl, you know you have to stand up and go to the bathroom, or you’ll feel it.”

She frowned eyes still closed.

“Carry me.”

Tony chuckled and did so. Her arms around his neck and her face in its crook, she was smiling softly. Tony let the door of the bathroom open as washed her. She was standing, hand on the wall, knees buckling but she did well.

He stopped the water.

“Now the part I like to see baby girl, squat.”

“Help me, please,” she begged softly.

They all caught the sight of a translucid bowl between her feet. They tried to contain their excitement, but it was all too new for them.

Tony helped her squat. The minute she was in position blobs of cum dropped in the bowl. Tony and the others were concentrated on it, fully realizing of the fact that their little girl had been like this bowl and had received all of their cum. Subconsciously they felt proud. And if their cocks twitched valiantly, they ignored it.

When she was done, he wiped her down, held her to another bedroom, the master one. It wasn’t more different than the other, except for the size of the bed, the paintings on the wall, and the incredible view on the forest and the sea. He laid her down and covered her with a cover before heading out.

They didn’t discuss as planned before, too lost in their thoughts and feelings to talk about what just happened. The others three friends didn’t even know if they’d be a redo, and they didn’t want to have their hope crushed so soon after was they did.

They knew they should have discussed it. But they didn’t. Not the day after, or the week. They kind of avoided the topic which was getting on their little girl nerves. They knew it, but didn’t try to step up, until she snapped. But not the way they’d think. Because even if Tony and the boys didn’t talk, Tony and she did, and she made her point known: she had like getting fucked by Sam, Bucky and Steve and wanted to do it again and she will. Tony, the little shit he was, could only tug his dick in his short at the prospect of watching his girlfriend having sex with each of them or all of them.

And as she dropped to her knees, tugged his shorts down and swallowed his dick, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t deserve her.

#bucky barnes × black!reader #bucky barnes x poc!reader #tony stark x black!reader #sam wilson x black!reader #steve rogers x black!reader

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cosmiclatte28 · 4 years ago

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Quick Escape (Baekhyun x you)

Warning : do not over drink, don’t get drunk. Slightly suggestive, but no smut

How are you all? Excited for the first Baekhyun Japanese album solo ?? What about KOLO??

Alright, here we go!!

"Are we ready to go?" your boyfriend asks as he closes the car trunk and helps you open the passenger door. "Yes, we're good. I've sent Mongryong to Kai yesterday. He'll take care of the corgi." you explain to Baekhyun who just met you today. He was staying in Chanyeol's home last night because his solo preparation ended too late and you don't want Baekhyun to drive in the middle of the night by himself. Today, the two of you have planned to take hree days two night quick break. Monday is a holiday and so you two emptied your schedules and make time for a self-treat weekend. Baekhyun is busy with his photoshoot and Japanese album preparation. You've seen your boyfriend looking tired from the big project, but he was happy to release the first Japanese solo album with not just one or two, but six versions! You sit in his Audi RS7, and buckle your seatbelt. Baekhyun detours and takes the driving seat. "Okay GPS set and here we go!" you cheer and Baekhyun just laugh at your excitement. With music blasted from your playlist and the two of you harmonizing to the songs, there are smiles over your faces that won't be gone any time soon. "Hehe looks like my girlfriend can actually make a featuring in my Japanese album." "Nani? I can only say nani and arigatou! I'll mess up the lyrics." you tease him and laugh when he laugh too. "I should probably ask the manager board if you can make a feature!" You just shrug your shoulder, what Baekhyun wants, he'll work hard for it right, so you don't really have the authority to stop him. It was a four hours drive, all done in the highway. When lunch time comes, the two of you pull over to a rest area. The rest area in Korea is unique, each area has different menu and specialized to their authenticity. "Let's eat lunch!" Baekhyun as always sounds happy on the thought of foods. You take your wallet and stretch your body when you finally get a chance to stand up. You reach out your hand and Baek knows the queue, he locks his car and pockets the key then takes your hand in his. Gladly the two of you swing your hands and enter the big room. "What should we eat?" You ask, knowing that Baekhyun is restricted to a diet usually and you don't want to torture him by seeing you eat the good guilty foods. Baekhyun lets out a small smile, always thankful for your attention and support to his activities and diets. "It's nice of you, I will just have kimbab. You can order whatever you want, it's okay... Don't hold it back." He rubs a hand on your shoulder and plants a quick kiss on your hair. "Okay, don't whine if I get something yummy." you taunt at him and walk to order what you want and his too.

You return with a number and wait for Baekhyun to get the two of you waters. He sets the table with chopsticks and spoons. When your number is called, you give the auntie the number and bring the tray of foods to the table. Baekhyun's eyes glisten and twinkle when he sees his favorite Tonkatsu set there. "Yaak how can I remain calm if the food you ordered is my favorite and looks soo good." he pouts as he opens his foil wrapped kimbab and pick one up to his mouth with the chopstick. "Just take mine if you want, several bites won't make you bloat honey." You calmly cut the pork cutlet and begin enjoying your lunch. Baekhyun munches his food while looking at you, it's like watching a mukbang show. He can feel the sauce taste just by looking at you. You laugh at his really cute expression and decides to push the plate to the middle, you turn the plate so the cutlet is facing his direction. "Eat up," you push some of the square cut meat to him. He smiles and finally gives up. 'Thank you, thought you'll be heartless and let me stick to the diet." He finally munches one of the pork cutlet and moans in delight. "I wasn't actually doing a good thing right? Breaking your diet." you raise your brow. He shrugs his shoulder, "Meh, I am happy now. So you're doing the right thing!" This is why the two of you get along well. You're one year away from marrying him, he has proposed and he wished to do the wedding before his enlistment. "Eat up honey, don't get sick. Your health and happiness comes first!" You put down your cutleries and let Baekhyun enjoys the rest of the portion. "If we eat without guilt, it's zero calories!" he grins as he takes in the last spoonful and you clap your hands like he was a baby who just finished his lunch. "Shall we grab coffee?" you know he enjoys americano after lunches and even though you did not drink caffeine, you never interfere his habit. "Sit down, I'll take the orders." Baekhyun points to an empty table in the corner and you sit down first. You take out your phone and play with your Instagram for a while, checking on fanpages and seeing if anyone caught Baekhyun and you. So long no one has discovered this relationship, but your family and his family have already met and agreed that the two of you can marry each other. His friends knew that you are his girlfriend, it's not a surprise for them when you come in randomly to drop lunch and even his choreographer knows. Only the boss and the director boards did not know, but Baekhyun said he did not violate any rules. He did not have a contract saying he cannot date a girl. Simply said his dating ban was removed already. Your boyfriend hidden in mask is back with a tray of ice americano, cold mint caffeine free tea, and a plate of cheesecake. You glance a "What is this" look on the cheesake and to him, he scratches his neck, "I tried to hold myself back. I want one bite." his puppy eyes are on his face and you can't say no. "It's okay, you drive a lot today. You have activities to burn your calories." you sneakily take a spoonful already and melt into the sweet salty fluffy creamy texture. "Woah this is the best!" you take another bite. "Told you." Baekhyun joins in. With that, you exchange story of what happened in your office last week and basically talk about random things. The break end nicely and Baekhyun is ready to drive again, well actually you offered him to take over the wheel, but he never let you drive. Not when you're with him. The rest of the journey was also filled with blasting song and singing on top of your lungs, plus teasing one another with cheesy jokes and pick up lines. You also talked to him what is lately happening in the fandom and he laugs at Aeri's funny memes about missing EXO. "We'll come back soon! Just keep on doing great Aeris, and we'll soon say we are one again." Baekhyun smiles secretly and you just nod your head. "We're here!!!" you scream when he parks into the small cottage and the helpers quickly handle your bagages. You did the check in and receive the key, Baekhyun ensured he left nothing on the car and parked it in front of the cottage. It is noon already when you two arrive and upon seeing the private pool and jacuzzi bathtub the two of you are turned into young kids. "Swim!!!" he runs to dip his toes into the water, "It's warm! let's dive in!" You toss him his swimming pants and you take out your swimming suit too. As soon as you're done putting on sun screens, you dive in first and wait for Baekhun who is struggling to put on the cream on his back. "Come here!" you gesture him to sit on the floor and you help him put on the cream on his pale back. "You need some tanning!" you groan He yells, "No way! I need to look bright..." You roll your eyes, 'No one ever saw your back!" His eyes pop out and he turns his neck to look at you, "You're not wrong." You click your tongue and toss the sunblock away. Baekhyun waits for five minutes and finally cannot wait any longer. "I don't care about my sun screen not being fully absorbed, I want to swim!" he canon balls into the pool and splashes water everywhere. You laugh and when he's inside you tease him by pulling him from under the water. Baekhyun is a good swimmer like you, so he did not panic and instead gets you back. You squeal when he can carry you easily inside the water and you lock your legs over his strong torso. Baekhyun carries you like a koala and you snuggle into his strong body. He leans in for a quick kiss and you give him one. "Hey we need to exercise! What about 5 laps race? This pool is so small, I'm sure we can do that." You stretch your neck and get ready to launch yourself. Baekhyun cracks his neck, "I'm in, three.. two.. one" he pushes himself and so do you. The two of you are neck and neck, but Baekhyun cannot beat you. 5 laps are done like that and the two of you are gasping for airs. Baekhyun won by a hair in the end, because you got tired in the middle. "I won!! What do I get?" he cross his hands over his chest. You think for a while, "I don't know.. me?" you giggle and he smirks, "Nice present!" he takes you into his embrace again and sits you down on the edge of the pool, your body shiver from the hot sun touching your wet skins and Baekhyun pulls you in to kiss you deep, he is still in the water, but with you bending your body, he can reach your lips. "I am not flexible." you push him away and groan at your sore back. He laughs, 'Said the girl who owned a Yoga video channel." You blush, hey you're just finding a way to end this. "Whatever, you got your reward. I want to use the jacuzzi." you stand up and wrap yourself in the bathrobe, and enters the jacuzzi bath that you have filled with water earlier. "No Fun! I also want!" Baekhyun runs to join you in. You give him space and the two of you just close your eyes there for a moment. Relaxing into the pulsating of the waters, hitting the tight knots on your shoulders. You almost fall asleep when you hear Baekhyun's stomach grumbles. "Uh oh it's from the swimming." he glances to the phone he brought, "Almost five, should we shower and prepare for dinner?" you nod and stretch yourself out from the water. You take turn bathing and afterwards prepare yourself for dinner. "You bring the dress I gave you last time?" he asks after he leaves the shower. You're drying your hair and nod at him, he gives a thumbs up, "Good! We'll need that for tonight." Baekhyun brings you to a nice fine dining restaurant, he said it was to make up the anniversary last month that he had to cancel. You can understand his cancelation last month, but having a make-up anniversary is good.

The dinner ends well and you thank Baekhyun for his sweet manners also for the good wine. You didn’t knew he had a good choice of wine!

“You really like that wine eh?” Baekhyun asks once the two of you are already lying comfortably in pyjamas on the big bed.

You snuggle into his big taller frame, “Yes I love it so much!” you peek to look his eyes.

He smiles and ruffles your hair, “Look at you being drowsy. You almost finished half of it.”

You nod, “I know right, it’s that good. And now I am feeling dizzy.

Baekhyun chuckles, you are not a heavy drinker too, but drowsy you is so cute and irresistible.

“Can you cuddle me like you mean it Baek?” you pout at him. Well here we go he thought. When you’re drowsy like this you become so clingy and demanding.

Baekhyun cradles you in his bigger frame and rubs your back, “Easy darling, you’re so demanding.” He breathes in your hair and smiles at the hint of strawberries hitting his nose.

“Your demanding baby,” you slurred

He smiles and kisses the crown of your head, “Yes, my demanding baby.” He lets out shaky breath as he gently hugs you to sleep and find the comfort, he has been missing this whole week.

Ah another nice sleep with you is everything he needs to heal his body.

end :) thank you for reading

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abloomntime · 3 years ago

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A Bloom In Time Ch19 Paintings By Ghosts

(It took me A LONG time to research and find out what all the paintings in Hat Kid's gallory looked like. If I missed any or got any wrong please let me know. All mentioned paintings can me seen in the painting room through the green door in the machine room of the ship.)

Lunch breaks were nice.

She was starving so before anything else she wanted to get somethin' in her stomach. Looking in the lil gal's fridge, there really wasn't too much of anything. It was all pretty empty except for a basket of apples, half a cheese wheel, and what looked like a carton of eggs. Well, she wasn't about to not get something to eat, and down at least three of those apples she had. They weren't as sweet tasting as she remembered the ones her father grew on their farm were, but as if this person was going to start complaining about food at this point of her life. Sure her life was REALLY crazy up to this calm point, all of it sounded like a really bad story, she was going to have to learn a whole knew pecking world different from her old one, and she was going to have to deal with her past. But if there was one thing she needed to do now was take that darn ghost's advice.

"The important thing is that I can't change or fix anything that's already happened alright? I can't send you back. I can't give you anything from your old life......And I can't change what happened to you. But, I can help make the future easier and help you with whatever you need to settle down with alright? But you got to understand that it's NOT just going to be with a snap of my fingers."

He was right. What had happened happened and there's no way she was going back there anyways, so it looks like she'd just have to start where she left off way back when. Hard work. Save up enough pons. And get that flower stand! May not seem like a giant grand idea like some would expect, but that's what she always wanted. A life where she could surround herself by precious beautiful flowers admiring their beauty and scent and give them all to people who enjoyed them as much as she does. Her blue eyes reflected in the gold coloring of the bracelet that was still tight around her wrist, bringing her other hand up to clamp around it to herself. Her business may have never taken off if that one fateful encounter with the handsome and kind prince from the neighboring kingdom hadn't taken such interest in the way she grew her little babies. He never said one bad thing about them. Complimenting on how deep a red her roses are and surprising him when she said they didn't just come in red...She chuckled remembering that silly surprised face of his.

The prince stared at her shocked, brown eyes blinking as she held out the white and red rose bouquet to him. "Wow. You're telling me they really come in more than three colors?"

She nodded back at him. "Yep! How many colors did you think they came in?"

He figeted fiddling with the soft petals of one white rose nervously. "W-Well. I knew there was a whole bunch of red ones, and I knew there was white ones because my mother always uses then for balls. A-And I saw black roses at my grandmother's burial. May she rest in peace.....Wait." His brown eyes widened as he stared at her. Poppy blinked when he suddenly put his hands on her stand leaning forward a little. "H-HOW MANY COLORS OF ROSES ARE THERE?! I DESPERATELY NEED TO KNOW!!"

After a moment, the red head smiled and gestured to a whole slew of potted roses behind her he didn't seem to notice and his jaw dropped at the sight of them all. "Well, you sure like to learn things, so let me tell ya a thing or two about roses. There's all different breeds of roses, but all of them fall under one of the eleven color catagories ya hear? There's red, white, n black like you're used to seein'. But then there's yellow, blue, pink, purple, orange, and even green!"

His eyes landed to a beautiful batch of emerald green roses Poppy pointed out and his eyes widened more. "Those would be perfect for Vanessa! They match her emerald eyes so perfectly." He smiled and turned to Poppy. "I'd love to have some....But wait." He counted on his fingers. "Red, white, black, yellow, blue, pink, purple, green, orange-....That's only nine. I thought you said there was eleven."

She giggled. "You caught me! You see. Some are different shades of blue or pinks, but they'd still be classified under those colors, but some roses have two colors on them."

"You're KIDDING!"

"Nope!" Turning around. She spotted one of her hanging planters and reached up to pluck one of the ones near the top, carefully minding the thorns and brought it down to him. He stared at it in amazement. IT REALLY DID HAVE TWO COLORS!! It was a yellow rose but the tips of the petals were a dark pink, almost red as Poppy smiled at it. "This is what you call a Bi-Color pattern. Some breeds of roses have two colors like this. They're really popular at birthdays. But...If you want something real purty like." She set the single rose down and looked at him. "I got one more surprise for the history books."

"And what would that be?"

"Rainbow roses." He blinked confused so she held up a hand and bent down to rummage around under her stand. "I wanted to keep these hidden for the time being because I wanted to sell my over stock of other roses first since an unexpected amount bloomed this year. And you know how everyone's gonna be itchin' to buy their loved ones flowers on Cupid's Day. I wanted to sorta save these for special customers." She grabbed a small pot of something and stood up. Holding the pot just enough to be seen by him leaning over the stand and no one else passing by. His. Jaw. DROPPED. THEY WERE RAINBOW!!! Every color save for black and white was on there. All in different places on the petals and some petals being full different colors along with blended petals with two different colors mixed on them. They almost didn't look real. As if someone painted on them blindly with multiple paints. Poppy gazed at them lovingly. "My Great Great Granddaddy Willow 'Tree' Bloomington was able to cross breed all kinds of roses together until he made them. "

"I heard of him before. He used to be the Royal Gardener for the Old Owl King didn't he? They say the gardens were never more beautiful than when he was in charge."

She nodded but frowned. "That's right. That ol' birdbrain wanted my great great granddaddy to never share his masterpiece with anyone else. Wanted them all to himself, but that's like askin' an artist to not show off his art. So when he retired, he stole a few clippings and fled the country. Since then these beautiful little guys have been my family's birthright. We're extremely picky about who gets them...Or at least I am. Papa thinks I should've just stayed on the farm and become a milk maid like Mama." The prince's eyes softened at the small frown on her face but she was quick to smile again for an important customer. "So! Will it just be the one bouquet for ya, Princey? Or were ya'll still interested in those pretty green ones?" She asked as she tucked away the beautiful colorful ones again.

"I..." he glanced over to the emerald green ones then to the giant one he was already holding....And smiled again. "You know I think I will take another lovely arrangement of those too. Equal size."

Poppy smiled. "Coming right up, Your Highness!" In a few moments, she held out a pretty arrangement of green roses the shade of Vanessa's eyes all wrapped up in pretty white paper. "Two extra large bouquets will be eight pons please-" She paused and blinked when the white and red rose bouquet was held out to her and eight tiny green diamonds were dropped to the stand. "Oh. Do you need me to hold that?"

"N-No. T-they're for you."

"Me? Why? I thought you wanted to give Princess Vanessa double flowers."

"Uh.." He quickly gave a nervous smile. "W-W-Well, on Cupid's Day people give their friends and f-family too. It's all about spreading love to those you care about. It doesn't have to mean romanticism at all! Especially because I consider you a close friend!" He grinned wider nervously and wished he could push himself for how weird he must've looked. But Poppy just smiled.

"Well aren't you sweet?" She happily took the roses from him. "Now I can see why so many people like ya! And why Princess Vanessa took a likin' to ya! Such a gentleman to everyone! But are you sure you're not givin' me my own flowers?"

"Hey. I paid for them, so technically they were my flowers to do as I pleased with, and I w-wanted to show my appreciation to my.....f-friend."

"Aw. Ya'll just too kind. If that's the case, then you don't need to pay for mine."

He held up his hand and grabbed the green rose bouquet. "No, no. You did the hard work growing them. I ordered them in the first place. And they're already cut. The least I could do was pay the four pons for them. B-Besides. I don't believe in special treatment."

"Well alright. If ya insist. But here." She looked back down to the yellow n pink rose she had picked to show him and picked it up again, minding the thorns and holding it out to him. "Here! A small token from one friend to another too! On the house!"

He smiled and slowly took it from her. "Well then...Thank you, friend....I-I..Should probably be getting these to Vanessa."

"That's a fair point. Wouldn't want to keep her waiting on Cupid's Day. It's the most romantic day of the year!"

"Heh. Yeah....L-Love."

Sells really did increase after word of the prince buying her flowers went around. That day alone must've been her best Cupid's Day ever cuz right after he left with those green roses a woman came up to her and asked for five purple roses for her parents and sisters followed by others. She sold her normal quote for flowers that day plus lots of extras! She was able to get lots of work providing for small weddings in the town square, parties, and other festive times. All because of one friend's kindness. She felt guilty now that she only got so much business from his reputation but this time she'd have to really work for her dream! And she was totally going to be the best florist anyone's every had in a thousand years! For now she'd just rest a little while and help out with whatever that purple onion jack o lanturn had in mind, and wait to see what he was planning. She wasn't sure what to expect from a giant ghost but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't curious. Poppy made her way back out the kitchen's double doors after dipositing her third apple core into the trashcan in the corner, and the scene in the control room made her smile. The two girls were sitting on pillows a little ways from the television playing with the gold castle, it looked like a game of princess since Bow was making a princess doll scream help from the tower and Hattie was acting out the villain with that golden mafia man. The other old things like the gold pencil and cookie was all in a small random pile a few feet from them both.

"You will never have the princess! She'll be locked away forever and the kingdom of gold will be mine! Muahahaha!!," Hattie said in a fake deep man's voice.

"Oh yeah! Well I, Sir Cat-o-lot, will save her!," Bow threatened back holding out a small black cat plush. They must've heard her giggling when she came down cuz they both looked up at her as she came in and Bow waved at her. "Hi, Poppy! Wanna play?"

"Yeah! You can be the giant who comes and steals the gold up the apple tree in the sky!...Or was it a bush in the sky?"

"I'd love to, Pumpkins. But I still gotta job to do, don't you remember? I'd rather finish it and then relax a lil bit. There anywhere we missed?"

Hattie shook her head. "No. Rumbi already swept everywhere, the painting room was so small and easy. He's still sweeping the engine room."

"What about the mail room?,'' Bow asked pointing to the yellow tunnel entrance poking out from the wall near the engine room door. "It has junk mail all over the place after Mayor Mafia Glasses read through them all."

Mail room huh? Well she didn't know who this Mayor mafia ..glasses?? was, but if it was the last room she needed to clean then she might as well get it all done. Then she could finally relax for the day. Walking over the yellow entrance, the children went back to their little game giggling. Great. This entrance looked small too, she'd probably have to crawl through there as well and drag the broom behind her like last time. Leaning down, she peeked inside....And fell backwards with a yell. Both girls flinched and looked up at her loud yell as Poppy stumbled before landing on her behind at the sight of two yellow glowing eyes and mouth smiling at her from the darkness. A high pitched raspy laugh rang out and two clawed hands reached out to grab the outside of the yellow tunnel, before the darkness pulled himself out smiling and revealing himself to be non other than the famous snatching ghost himself. Poppy's scared and confused face quickly turned to one of anger as she scowled.

"I should have known!"

"AHAHAHAHA!! You should've seen how utterly scared you looked! That's a feeling I never get tired of seeing any day," he rasped out and looked down smiling at her as Poppy stood up and dusted herself off. Giving him a scowl.

"So is THIS one of the pranks I heard about? Y'know for 'the most powerful ghost on this measly planet' that sure wasn't very impressive."

"HEY!" He scowled back and crossed his arms. "There's NOTHING wrong with a classic hide and go boo routine! Works almost a hundred percent of the time! And you're one to talk about not impressive work." He jabbed a claw over at the watching girls. "Playing and walking around when there's work to be done? That's not productive at all."

"We're already finished."

".........WHAT?!" It took him a few moments to register what she said but when he did his head snapped to her so fast she was afraid it was going to float off and faze through the wall. "You couldn't have cleaned an entire ship in one day?!"

"Well, to be fair we aren't all the way done." She pointed behind him with a deadpanned look. " We're waiting for Rumbi. An' I still need to go fix up whatever's up there and I need to hammer a plank of wood back in place upstairs since we found gold buried under it. Now excuse me." Snatcher gave off a confused noise when Poppy just pushed his tail aside and went back to peer back up into the yellow tunnel. She could see a light and some kind of papers floating around everywhere. "Hey! One of yall get me the broom and somethin' to catch a bunch of flying paper." Bow nodded dropping her toys in favor of running off to the kitchen as Poppy turned back to the tunnel and started crawling her way up it towards the light.

"You found what under what?!" Snatcher turned back as Poppy disappeared into the yellow tunnel. "H-HEY! Don't you know it's rude to walk away from your boss when he's talking to you about your contractual obligations!?" When he didn't get an answer he stuck his head in the tunnel entrance. "Yes? No? HELLO!! Why aren't you saying anything?!"

"Y'know, for a dead guy you sure have a loud mouth!," she called back smiling when she heard him sputter.

"WHAT?! The peck I'm not! You're the one ignoring me!" He floated through the walls after her snorting form.

"Maybe so but I think your bark is worse than your bite, Purple Onion! What are you doing here anyways? I thought ya were busy." Her face popped up out of the entrance just in time for it to get smacked by a very old envelope, to which she shook her head and got it off to gawk around. Papers were flying around alright, they were laying all over the place if they were flying about or in a big pile on the other side of the room. In the middle of the room was a desk with two pans on it. One was green and said IN and the other was red and said OUT. There was also a few pole blocker things in front of the desk like the ones around those metal table things she'd been seeing around. A small coffee table stood off to one side of the room with two blue seated cushioned seats, near the entrance was two metal deviders and a giant wooden dresser, and to her far left was a giant basket filled with more old letters, a fan, and a pale carpet stood under the desk. She gazed up hearing a snicker and Snatcher was there probably because of the letter smacking her face. Before giving a grunt when a piece of paper smacked him in the pace making her snort again. "Not so funny yourself Mr. Meany."

He swiped the letter off his face scowling and staring at her. "HEY! I'm not completely heartless you know. Every so often I steal letters from others and deliver them to my minions as if they were getting something. It helps lift their spirits so to speak. And to answer your question." He threw the paper away which fluttered to the ground. "I often come back and check on new employee's progress every few hours or so, this is no different. But I have to say I'm suprised with how reliant you were for this tack."

"Well I did have the two best helpers in the world." She smiled and finally got to stand up in the room looking around with a hum. "This one might be a little tricky, but can't be worse than a room of snow. And I still have to hammer that bourd back. Bow tugged it loose after that gold."

"Where the peck did you all get the gold? Im pretty sure I don't pay you until after the job is done, as I'm not legally obligated to pay for unfinished work."

"From the Roach King."

"The Roach what?!"

"Ask them if ya'll want some answers." She turned hearing some footsteps behind her and smiled seeing Bow in the entrance to the yellow hallway. A broom and dustpan in one hand and a trashbag in the other. "Well, why thank you honeybunch!" She reached over hand out for them and Bow handed them over.

"I couldn't find any nets, so I thought you could use the bag to catch them?"

Poppy smiled standing back up and looking over to the mail floating around and sighed. "Actually I think we'll be needing a lot more bags if we want to clear all this mess out." She pointed towards the giant pile of letters along the wall. "That spinny thing there is propellin' these here letters up and then they're blown all 'round the room makin' a mess. We'll have to just get rid of all this junk."

Bow scratched her head. "How? I don't think they'll all fit in the trashcan."

Poppy smiled and looked up towards Snatcher who after staring a couple seconds back to her finally got a sense of what she was thinking. "HEY! Just a pecking second here! You're not pawning them off on me!"

"I'm not. You can just take 'em and give them all to those precious lil helpers of yours can't ya?"

"Well...Yes. But who are you to decide what I DO with my time?"

"Oh c'mon. it'll be so sweet of ya." Her big blue eyes shined at him as she smiled up towards him. "Won't ya just help a gal out with this just once? You're other uh...'employees' would really get a hoot from it too-"

"OH ALRIGHT!!" He turned his head away. Anymore staring at her smile and he'd start feeling mushy which he hated. "But I expect YOU to get them all ready to go for me! Since Im not legally obligated to help with cleaning."

Poppy eagerly agreed and sent Bow back to grab more bags from her as she got to work picking up a few of the letters scattered about on the floor at her feet. Snatcher having nothing else to do at the moment decided to leave the mail room and fazed through the wall back into the control room in time to see Bow slam open the kitchen doors and run in. At the sight of her ghostly BFF, Hattie sprung up and bounded up to him. Chattering about how much of a good helper she had been and how she was STILL a better helper cu technically she was still cleaning....Well really Rumbi was the one sweeping away at the engine room but she put him there in the first place. And then when his yellow eyes looked over at all the random gold objects laying in a pile, he pointed a claw and asked about it. Her face lit up even more and she went on a long spree about how she found these mysterious notes in her room and then Poppy found a whole bunch more while cleaning and then they followed them up all the way to the attic. And then Hattie went on to tell him about how Bow busted open a plank of wood from the side of the staircase in the attic and it turns out there was gold in it! Speaking of Bow, she had burst back out of the kitchen sometime during her ramble and dragged a good number of black trash bags behind her disappearing into the yellow entrance most likely going to delivery them to Poppy. In the mean time Hattie told him all about how this roach stole her gold potion and turned all this stuff and the gold potion itself into gold. Holding up the objects one by one up to him. The cookie, the gear, the potion, and her most proud posession the gold castle which she beamed with happiness eager to show it off to him. If he was anyone else he would've called her reaction cute, but all it got was a small half smile from the ghost before the hatted child had the brilliant idea he should come and see the notes for himself. Eh...Why the peck not right? He had literally nothing else better to do while waiting on the cleaning duo up there, and he was sure Minion Number 47 could run the place for a little while longer in his absence. She WAS head of the manor staff when she was alive so she'd have no trouble giving orders to lots of people on a tight scheduale. He saw the notes alright, and this mysterious Roach King they were all talking about. The gold roach statue sat ontop of the papers he apparently left out for them to follow and Snatcher couldn't help but read through them all not that the child seemed to mind at all. She left in the middle of him reading through them, saying something about needing to check up on Rumbi but he didn't care. He was honestly surprised at the letters addressed to the girls, having such kind words to say about them both, but they weren't wrong either. In fact they were very accurate to their positive nature, but if he could add a few things it'd be childish, sassy, and a whole bunch of other things to describe them then just having a gold heart. As they were much more than a gold heart, but hey. The guy turned himself into gold. What was he supposed to expect from him? Placing the notes and gold statue of the roach wearing a crown, he decided it was about time he headed back and see what was up. Imagine his slight surprise when he popped his head through a wall and saw what looked like a large round black ball stuck in the entrance to the slide. Which gave way a moment later and tumbled to the floor revealing itself to be a full trashbag and Hattie tumbling after it landing on her stomach with a thud. The hatted child pushed her self up pushing the comically large hat off her face and scowling at the bag. Snatcher could only watch in amuzement as she rolled it over towards four other full trashbags near the control panel.

"Sheesh, Kid. That's a lot of mail," he commented.

"There's three more bags," Hattie groaned before hanging her arms and stomping her way way towards the slide entrance as yet another bag was having a hard time exiting. Most likely by Bow shove it. "Cleaning is so BORING! Why do I gotta do it?"

"You're not the only one, Kid. And by the sound of things, you've never would've found that gold if you didn't clean up," He pointed out just as Bow popped her head out as the bag shot out.

"Yeah. But now we found it and now it's boring!," she whined back heading to the slide.

"Aren't that robot and Poppy the ones who've done most of the work?"

"WE HELPED!!"

"Then you should have no problem helping her with one last teensy tiny room." He glanced at Bow running back with a smile on her face. "By the looks of things you're practically done already."

Hattie groaned but followed Bow back up the slide towards the mail room, followed by Snatcher who fazed through the wall after them. "Anyone ever tell you, you work too hard for you're own good," he asked popping his head just above the slide exit.

Poppy chuckled wiping down the desk before looking over her shoulder at him. "Lots of times. But I aim to please, and I learnt a long time ago that hard work comes good rewards." She watched the two girls dragging the last two bags away and smiled. The mail room didn't have to be that clean to be honest. There was barely even any dirt on the ground. A quick sweep, bag the useless mail, wipe down these tables, and she even dumped those blocker rod things in the empty giant basket over there outta the way. "The place is mighty fine looking without paper smackin' your face. I didn't know aliens had a mail room...Well to be honest I didn't know they could have a painting room or anything else either."

Something about that sentence made Snatcher freeze for a moment and stare at her. " You...saw the paintings?"

"Well....No. But Hattie told me she already had the place swept so it's already taken care of ain't it?"

"Would you like to see it?," he asked a small feeling of excitement bubbling from his chest.

"I would but I have the attic to fix don't I-" She jumped when Snatcher grabbed her arm and pulled her forward.

"That can wait! You're taking your once a day fifthteen minute break and coming with me. What's the point of living here if you don't see the entire complex?,'' he said with an almost cheery voice and looked down to the small girls pushing the last of the junk down the slide slowly. "Get good Kids! We have some real work to see!"

At one point, Hattie fed up with everything took a few steps back, before tackling the bags and Bow along with them. They all unstuck pretty quickly tumbling down into the control room with the kids landing all in one giant heap on the ground. Well ....That certainly did the trick didn't it? Snatcher seemed to be please as he tugged Poppy along and only stopped when she yanked her hand out of his grasp. He froze as she gave him a stern look for a couple seconds, before willingly going down the slide entrance herself. Oh if only he could punch himself for that. Poppy emerged a moment later in the control room and glanced up at Snatcher with narrowed eyes.

"I understand you're excited, but trying to yank me through a wall isn't an option. I would've bashed my head into that wall there!" Those yellow eyes glanced to the wall for a moment seeming to register what she was getting at. Oh. Right. Walls and humans don't really mix all too well huh? "Now don't you go doin' that again."

"Uh....Sure."

.....She gave a small smile again. "There. That wasn't too hard was it? Now whatcha going on about paintings for?"

"The painting room?" Hattie struggled out of the small pile her and Bow were in with protests from Bow but managed to squeeze out of there and up towards her dusting herself off and up to them. "I can show you! It's right by the engine room through the green do-"

"Whoa! Hey! That's MY thunder you're stealing kid!" A giant purple claw gently grabbed Hattie around the waist and pulled her back as the giant ghost leaned down to give her a look. "You have you're fun and now it's my shot. Don't be a rude little lady." Hattie gave a small pout and huff but didn't say anything else much to his delight as he put her down and patted the top of her hat before turning back to Poppy. "Well that seals that deal! Why don't we just go see those paintings?" he pointed towards the engine room door. "Trust me when I say this is the best part of the breaking experience."

"I reckon I don't have a say so to your looney persistance don't I?," she asked smiling at him but slowly followed behind none the less.

"NOPE!!"

A feeling of excitement welled up in him again as he smiled and shot through the wall faster than a bullet in one dark purple blur. Making her blink and shake her head. Well....She really ought to see the entirety of this ship then shouldn't she? One last room wasn't gonna hurt her. Leaving the girls to bicker over whatever little girls bickered over she followed right after the ghost through the tunnels. A moment later she saw himself sticking out of the walls of grinding gears above a green doorway and gestured for her to follow as he ducked back into the wall. And of course, she followed, side stepping Rumbi who was still sweeping around, wanting to see what he was so excited over. The hallway there was a little darker than the others but there was enough light for her to see that it also was littered with excellent gear designs but this time it was a very dark green. These aliens must be very rich to afford a weaver to make such excellent carpets. When the door opened on the other side oh boy she was in for another surprise.

"There you are!," Snatcher called from the ceiling below with a smile. That ghostly hair n fluff of his hanging down towards the floor as he grinned. "Took you long enough! Get in here and see what you've been missing!''

She did so and was thankful the room despite being small was big enough for her to stand in, it had red flooring and a green plain carpet running it's length. At one corner of the small room she saw yet another metal table thing with these 'relics' as Hattie had called them. This one was a UFO mobile and under it attached by strings were three cows that looked the same but were different. One wore glasses and a tin foil hat, one wore just green sunglasses, and the other one didn't wear anything and looked totally normal. But it wasn't that that caught the attention of the red head. PAINTINGS!! There were paintings of different sizes, lengths, and styles that she had never seen before. She gawked at the meer sight of them all looking at each wall slowly taking it all in. At the very back wall was the fist thing she saw when she crawled in and her eyes lazer pointed on the largest of the six paintings that were on it. Why..It was Hattie herself! She looked might sweet standing in a field holding her umbrella open, her yellow cap and hair blowing in the breeze. If she hadn't known better she thought the painting would've giggled at her funny expression. Next to that one was a city shrouded by night, the only lights coming from the windows on the tail buildings and the cresent moon painted under it. The one directly under it was a bit strange. It was the face of a gold tribal man on a grey background and he wore pure black glasses. How odd. The other three were realitively small compared to those three. One being a close up of a plant's green leaves, a baby crow leaning against a wall next to toy blocks, and a pretty forest landscape. She could see a few trees and mountains in the distance of it. Turning her head to the right, Poppy noticed the right wall had only five. The tiny rectangle one in the top corner of the right wall was a burly looking man riding on top of a ...giant slab of meat? Below that was a picture of Hattie's face. Well, four pictures of Hattie all looking alike but with different color pastels. The entire square painting was divided into four smaller squares and each one had a Hattie of a different color tone. How strange. Then there was a giant portrait of a man with a mustache and beard. He wore a red suit that looked quite expensive. And next to that was two others, one was a black background with nothing but red thorny vines painted on it, and the other was a bit more stranges. It was divided into three background colors (red, green, and yellow) and had a bubble with different items in each. One was a heart, another a giant green diamond, and what looked to be a small king's crown.

"What do you think of work?," Snatcher asked proudly crossing his arms and looking pleased with himself.

Poppy leaned to the right wall and gently laid her hand on the frame of the red suited man in wide eyed wonder....before turning to him. "YOU painted all of these?" she asked gawking at him.

His smile widened more smug if that was possible. "Yep. And those." He pointed to the left wall wear there was five giant paintings behind the space cow mobile. He then pointed behind her. "And the ones right behind you."

Poppy looked behind her and took a few steps back from the doorway she had crawled in from to look at the six painting hanging above the doorway. Two were big. One was of two burly men who looked exactly alike and they looked to be farming folk like her parents were, the other one was of the famous Snatcher himself, with some king of background she didn't recognize. Maybe a bridge? He was in the middle holding his face in what looked like a very shocked expression. The others weren't grand scale but interesting anyways. Three of them were again Hattie but one looked more like a sketch that had her with double arms and legs. How bizarre. The one of Hattie next to it was her from her shoulders up but wearing a strange mask. It was green and red with black polka dots. The one of Hattie above those two was a much more normal one. It was of Hattie sitting down with her hands in her lap and behind her was a BEAUTIFUL background of mountains, a wide lake, and forest. The last one in the corner was another strange one. It was the man in the red suit again sitting on a throne, and a whole bunch of the burly men who looked a like bowing to him as if he was a king.

"These are...A-AMAZING!!"

She looked over to the last wall which had the biggest paintings on it. The strangest one was also the biggest. What looked like some desert landscape with a single dead tree and melting hour glasses all over it. Above that was another one of you guessed it, Hattie. In outerspace wearing an astronaut suit and connected to her spaceship. She looked so cartoony and adorable! A red boat sailing alone on a stormy sea, she could almost smell the sea air. One of the smaller large ones was just a beige background and just Hattie umbrella painted on it. And the the very last one was an abstract orange portrait of some man wearing sunglasses and a flower shirt. Snatcher however was looking VERY pleased at all the praise he was getting stroking his already huge ego as the smiling red read looked back to him with a wide smile.

"I can't believe you painted all of these!"

"Well you better, Red. Because I'm taking full credit for what you see." He 'polished' his claws against his neck fluff and examined them. "I don't usually do it, but sometimes if I'm bored and don't have a new supply of books to read I'll start on one and work on it a bit at a time. One of my lesser known talents." He then pointed at the room around him. "Couldn't really have these in the forest. Too many ways they could be damaged, so here was more ideal."

"I can see why." She turned her gaze around the room again before giggling and giving him an almost smug look. "Ya'll must really adore that little girl. There's six paintins' with her sweet lil face on 'em. But strangely I see none with the other one."

He paused for a moment looking at her...before coughing and looking away embarrased. "Well. Yes. I'm proud of them. In a way.....But we learnt the hard way the kiddo was allergic to paint and she wasn't too fond of the idea of her being painted."

Poppy guessed he was referring to Bow and hummed. "Poor thing. I can understand how that feels. But still." Her smile became all the more loving to him. "You have acceptional talent for this king of stuff. I reckon now I can say I was abducted by aliens and saw paintings by ghost. Hehe!"

He felt a warm feeling bubble up at the giggle but he cleared his throat and looked away again crossing his arms. "A-Alright! W-Well I think your legal fifthteen minute break is over, Red. Didn't you have something else to do today?"

"OH RIGHT!! The attic. I wonder if that girl has a hammer and nails?"

"Pretty sure she does since she literally has everything around her-......" He stopped midway through his rant and stared at her. Or more acturrately the bottom of her dress with all the rips and hole in it and pointed it out to her. "What the peck happened to you?"

She blinked and looked down to where he was pointing. "Oh. This? I think I got it all ripped up crashlandin' through those trees."

"You look like a homeless maid wearing that." He grunt and rolled his eyes. "Guess I'll have to fix that too."

Her red brow rose in surprise. "You sew too?"

"Of course I can! I made the kids all those clothes and my minions their highly durable bodies." His hand proudly pointed to himself. "I happen to be a powerful being with unlimited hidden talents." ..........Poppy's face suddenly turned into one of amuzement and she snorted again hand shooting to her mouth while the other went to her gut to try and hide the laughter. Which Snatcher flabbergasterdly got angry at. "WHAT'S WITH THAT LAUGHING!? WHAT?! YOU DON'T THINK MEN CAN SEW!? THAT'S LOW COMING FROM YOU!!" She snorted again sounding like a pig doubling over a bit and smiling wider behind her hand making Snatcher give a small growl. "HEY!! DON'T LAUGH AT ME YOU DOTTED FACE!! IM THE SNATCHER!! KING OF SUBCON AND TAKER OF SOULS!!"

She snorted again and in a strained voice said. "Oh yes. *Wheeze* T-The great and horrible monster ghost. Daddy of aliens, Painter of...HMHM! HAHA!! D-Daughters. And tailor of dresses."

Snatcher let out the biggest flustered peacock sqawk she'd ever heard and she lost it. Doubling over onto her knees, both hands gripping her sides as she leaned over and laughed hard, snorting a few times. Snatcher's cheeks lit up with a bright yellow flush and his fluff floofed out of embarrassment as he just kinda sputtered and stared at the laughing woman on the floor at a loss for words. Eventually forcing something out.

"OH YEAH!! W-WELL YOU LOOK LIKE A POOR MAID!! JUST-.....GO CHANGE OUTTA THAT RUINED DRESS BY THE TIME I LEAVE IF YOU WANT IT FIXED!! A-AND GO FIX THAT STUPID ATTIC AS PUNISHMENT!!"

He dissappeared back up into the ceiling leaving the wheezing and laughing woman hugging her sides through her laughing fit. Coughing when she couldn't get enough air. Oh boy. Was he gonna be sour for a while.

#Snatcher #a hat in time snatcher #a hat in time florist #A hat in time the florist #The Florist #florist #florist x snatcher #snatcher x florist #Snatcher x the florist #the florist x snatcher #ABloomInTime #flowercrown

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sams-sass · 5 years ago

Text

Cursed Pt. 3

GIF not mine.

Hello! Here is part three of Cursed, hope you guys like it! Thinking of doing an epilogue if you guys want. Thanks for all the love!

Read Parts One, Two, Four, Five, and Six Here:

Part One

Part Two

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Summary: Sam tries to cure you of your curse.

Pairings: Sam x Reader

Warnings: Angst, descriptions of pain and injuries, descriptions of past horrors. Fluff. Language

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“What the hell do you mean ‘cheat death?” Sam was pissed; he was fully facing you in his chair, shoulders squared, and eyes squinted.

“The curse is broken when I die, right? So if I die, the curse will be lifted.” You were speaking softly, trying not to convey too much emotion.

“No.” That was all Sam said back.

“We don’t know that Y/N, you could just die, or you could come back with the curse still on you.” Dean was leaning forward now, too, trying to be the voice of reason besides his brother's fierce emotions. Cas’s face was concentrated and scrunched slightly. He looked as if he was deep in thought.

“What is it, Cas?” You asked, tilting your head slightly.

“I think you may be right, Y/N.” His eyes moved to yours.

“What the hell, Cas!” Sam’s hand came down hard on the table, making you jump slightly, and Dean sits back in his chair. “I said, no.” He stood up abruptly, causing the chair to squeak against the floor, and walked down the hallway to your bedroom. You took a deep breath and gave Cas a thankful look. You stood and limped down the hallway to your room. You closed your eyes and sent up a small prayer to whoever was listening. You turned the knob and walked into the room, letting your gaze find Sam. He was sitting on the bed, his head in his hands as fast but heavy breaths filled his lungs. You made your way to the bed, sitting down next to him, placing your hand on his back. He stiffened under your touch but turned his head slightly in your direction.

“I’m sorry, baby. I am so sorry that it has come to this.” You leaned your head against his shoulder. You were suddenly feeling a little dizzy.

“It’s not your fault, Y/N; this is just all so much for me. I am so scared.” He took one of your hands in his and brought it up to his mouth, leaving kisses on your skin.

“I am scared too, Sam. Let's both just think about this for a little bit, ok? Let's not make any decisions until we calm down.” You picked your head up and lifted the hand that wasn’t trapped within Sam’s to run your fingers through his hair. Sam closed his eyes and turned his body towards yours, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tightly into him. You felt a little lightheaded; maybe you were hungry? You didn’t feel hungry at all, but you hadn’t eaten in a while and thought maybe you should.

“I love you.” He said into the crook of your neck, his nose sliding up your neck to nuzzle your jaw.

“I love you, too.” You giggled as his breath tickled your skin, making your hair move with his breathing.

“What would you like to do now?” He played with the ends of your hair, letting the strands move between his fingers.

“I’m hungry.” You answered, laughing slightly and leaning back slightly to look into his handsome face. “Well, I actually don’t feel so hungry, but I should eat.” Sam nodded, letting the left side of his mouth turn up in a small smile before he gathered you into his arms to carry you into the kitchen. He placed you in a chair at the table while he turned to cut the fruit and veggies to go in the blender. You ran your hand across your forehead, feeling even dizzier now. Your lips parted, and you licked them, desperate for hydration as your mouth went dry. Sam placed the smoothie in front of you, grabbing it. You downed it quickly.

“Are you ok?” He asked, using his thumb and pointer finger to lift your chin up so he could look at your face.

“Yeah, can you get me a cold glass of water?” You blinked your eyes hard; Sam made a confused face but nodded and got you the water. You drank some, feeling the cold liquid slide down your throat. It made you feel slightly better, but you still felt weird.

“Baby, you're making me nervous.” Sam knelt beside you, looking up into your face.

“I think I just need to shower and go to sleep.” You wiped your forehead again and felt the small beads of sweat forming.

“Ok, let's get you cleaned up.” Sam picked you up and brought you into the bathroom; he helped you to balance as you got undressed. He then picked you up again and placed you on the sink counter so he could take off the bandage around your ankle. He then helped you to get under the water, letting it fall over your skin. Sam stood behind you, holding you up. Your head lolled back against his chest, and his hands ran soap suds across your stomach and chest. Your heart rate felt really fast, and the dizziness was only getting worse. Your breath started to come in and out faster and faster, and your eyes felt heavy. Suddenly you felt the cold tile press against the skin of your back as Sam pushed you against the wall, holding your face in his large hand. He quickly turned the water off and stepped out of the shower with you. Running into the room to lay you onto the bed, you were only vaguely aware of what was happening. Everything around you was fading quickly as you tried to open your eyes. You heard drawers opening and shutting; you could feel your limbs being pulled slightly as fabric ran over your skin. You were so tired…you couldn’t help it…you let yourself fall into the blackness.

Sam ran with you in his arms through the bunker. Your skin was clammy and pale. You felt hot, feverish, and sweat was pooling against your hairline. Your breathing was shallow, and your pulse was thin but fast.

“Dean! Cas!” He screamed as he made his way into the infirmary. He laid you down on the bed and looked over your entire body. When he got to your hand, he stopped in his tracks. Dean and Cas tumbled together through the doorway, their eyes immediately fell to you. Sam was holding your injured hand in his, his face in a state of shock and horror. He removed the bandage that he had just changed that morning, and a small breath exited his lungs.

“Sam, what is it?” Dean asked, coming to stand next to his brother. When he saw the wound, he, too, wore a look of horror on his face.

“It’s gangrene,” Sam said bluntly.

“How could it get this bad this fast? It was fine just this morning.” Dean asked.

“The curse,” Cas answered, looking at the wound now too. “It’s starting to rot her from the inside out.” He and Dean shared a look of terror as Sam just stared at your face, tears filling his eyes. He knelt beside the bed and laid his head against your chest; large and choking sobs left his throat. Dean and Cas walked away for a moment.

“We need a witch,” Cas said when they were out of earshot.

“He will freak out if I call her,” Dean said sternly.

“He can’t lose her, Dean. He can’t lose Y/N.” Cas looked him in the eye and tried to convey how little time they really had.

“Ok. Ok, I’ll call her.” Dean agreed and walked away.

Sam’s hands ran over your skin; he couldn’t breathe or take his eyes off your face. Cas placed a bowl with cold water and a washcloth on the table next to the bed.

“Thank you,” Sam said, still looking at you. Cas didn’t respond; he only laid a hand on Sam’s shoulder, squeezing lightly before walking away. Sam dragged the cold cloth over your forehead and down your neck. He frequently checked your pulse and lowered his head to your mouth to check your breathing. His heart was sinking in his chest, and he had no idea what to do.

----------------------------------------

There was a knock on the bunker door about two hours after Sam took Y/N into the infirmary. Dean opened the door for Rowena and tried to catch her up to speed.

“She was hit with a bad luck curse. It started with her just getting hurt frequently, but then it escalated. She started choking on her food, and now she has gangrene.” Dean faced Rowena and gave her a serious look, telling her he wasn’t going to take any shit on this.

“I know what curse you are talking about. Why didn’t you call me sooner? I could have helped?” She asked; she started looking through her bag for things.

“We thought we had it under control.” Dean flicked his head towards the infirmary, and Rowena followed him into the room. Sam was sitting in a chair next to you. He was holding your non-injured hand in his. His eyes were red, and his back was arched in devastation. He looked up when he heard Dean and Rowena enter the room.

“What the hell is she doing here?” Sam asked his brother, his face hard.

“I can help, dear,” Rowena said, walking around Dean to talk to Sam directly. “I know what she has; I can help.”

“You better.” Sam turned back away from her and returned to stroking your hand and forearm. Cas walked into the room as well, giving Dean a look of thanks and nodding towards Rowena.

“What do we have to do?” Dean asked; his voice was breaking now too. He knew this was Sam’s burden to bear, but he cared about you too. In the time that you had all been hunting together, he had come to love you like a sister. He knew you were a part of the family, a Winchester, since the moment he saw you kill about 6 vamps before he and Sam could even get in the house. He knew Sam wanted to marry you; he had to make sure that was going to happen. He couldn’t let you die, not like this.

“She has to crossover into the veil and then returns. The curse can only be broken by death; she needs to leave this world and enter the land of the dead. Then I can bring her back.” Rowena explained while she took some herbs and jars out of her bag, setting everything on the table.

“Dammit, I should have listened.” Sam hung his head.

“Listened to who?” Rowena was combining herbs and liquids in a bowl.

“Y/N, she was right. She said she needed to cheat death, and I didn’t listen, and now she’s dying from an infected cut.” Sam was shaking. He was so angry, his chest rose and fell with large and heavy breaths.

“Yes, well, sometimes it's hard to see past reason when it involves the ones we love,” Rowena said, showing a rare side of compassion. Sam looked up at her with remorse written all over his face. “I need her blood.” She said, pulling out a knife from her bag.

“Wait!” Sam yelled. “I’ll do it.” He took the knife from her and turned back to you. He took your hand in his again and cut a slit across your palm. Rowena held the bowl under your hand and let the blood drip in. She placed the bowl back on the table and grabbed a handful of herbs.

“velum intro pro vita,” She said as she threw the herbs into the bowl. It lit a small flame. You suddenly took a large breath before all the breath left your body and your pulse slowed before stopping completely.

--------------------------------------

You sat up from the bed and blinked your eyes a few times before turning to Sam.

“Hey baby, I’m feeling better.” He wasn’t looking at you; he was staring at the pillow. You turned your head slightly and saw yourself laying in the bed still. “What the fuck?” You said, looking at your own face. You stood up and turned to face the situation fully. Sam was crying, holding your hand and running his fingers through your hair. Dean was standing next to him with his hand on Sam’s shoulder. His eyes were wet too, his forehead crinkled and his chest moving in fast breaths. Cas was behind them, his eyes focused on your face, lips parted slightly. Then you saw Rowena; she had her hands placed over her stomach, carefully focused on you.

“Hello, Y/N.” A voice said behind you. Your eyes closed as you knew what was coming. You turned to face the reaper behind you. He had stringy long hair that hung to his shoulders. He was skinny and tall, his face long with large features.

“I’m not going with you.” You stood tall, not letting yourself look scared. He nodded and took a step towards you.

“Y/N, it is easier this way. Death is just a path that we all must take.”

“Not now, I’m not ready.” You refused to back down; you had to get back to Sam.

“Then why are you here?” He asked you with a tilt of his head.

“I am not entirely sure; I know I was feeling sick, and I think I passed out. I was cursed; I needed to cheat you so I could break the curse. However, I am not sure if I died or if I was sent here to the veil.” You explained, hoping it got you out of this mess.

“Well then, let's take a look, shall we?” Suddenly you were transported to the worst night of your life.

---------------------------------

The wolf was ripping your father apart. Your mother shoved you and your sister in the closet and closed the door. You covered your ears until it was all over until the noise stopped. Your little hand opened the door and looked at the blood around the house.

----------------------------------

You were sitting in a cop car, your sister next to you wrapped in a blanket.

“We're going to take you to your aunts and uncles.” The cop said to you, touching your shoulder lightly.

“Did you find the wolf?” You asked him, looking into his eyes. His brow furrowed, and his lips parted slightly as he looked back at your house and then to you again.

“We are going to try, little one.” He said before walking away.

-------------------------------------

“Are you insane!” Your sister screamed in your face. “There are no such things as werewolves! If you are going to keep talking about mom and dad, I’m leaving.”

“We have to talk about them! Something horrible happened, and we need to talk about it, understand it.”

“No, we don’t. Goodbye, Y/N.” She walked out the door, and you never saw her again.

---------------------------------------

You were hovering in the corner of the cheap motel; you were shivering and crying. The heater wasn’t working, and it was about 35 degrees in the room. You hadn’t been able to sleep a wink, and your whole body was covered in goosebumps. You pulled the blanket tighter around you and closed your eyes, willing yourself to fall asleep. You watched the sunrise as the tears dried on your cheeks, and you slowly willed yourself to get up. You walked into the shower and prayed for hot water; finding lukewarm water was better than nothing you bathed yourself for the first time in days. Your stomach grumbled, and you shook your head, trying to get rid of the hunger gnawing away at you.

-----------------------------------------

You shot your gun at the monster chasing you. Your heart was pounding in your ears, and your breath was coming in loud gasps. It seemed to have absolutely no effect against the creature as it continued to charge you.

“Shit!” You screamed and sprinted through the woods. Your feet were only taking you so fast, and the werewolf was quickly gaining speed on you. You turned quickly, heading towards your car, when you heard the breathing behind you. You felt the claws dig into your skin before your mind could catch up to what happened. You felt the wet heat of the blood pouring down your leg. You fell to the ground and rolled over on your back, aiming your gun directly at the wolf. You shot one clean shot to his heart, and he went down like a sack of potatoes. You dragged yourself to your car and took your pants off. The blood was gushing out of you; you were going to die. You grabbed a needle and dental floss and started to stitch yourself up, trying to ignore the pain. You spent the night in your car, trying to take care of your leg. Every movement hurt and brought fresh tears to your eyes. It was in that car on that night that you had never felt more alone. More lonely.

--------------------------------

You opened your eyes to see yourself back in the bunker. You turned to your reaper; tears were falling freely down your face.

“I’m not going with you.” You stood your ground.

“Why? Life has not provided you with much happiness.” He cocked his head to the side.

“That man right there.” You turned to face him, pointing at Sam. “He is the love of my life, and I am not ready to leave him. Not because I don’t want to, but because it is not my time. I am going to marry him and spend the rest of my life with him. I will have his children and try to raise them to be like him. He is why I need to stay. We aren’t done helping the world yet.” You were breathing heavy, the tears drying on your skin.

“I’m sorry.” He raised his hands.

------------------------------------- “hoc planum ad animam” Rowena shouted as she threw the herbs into the bowl again. You shot up from the bed with a loud breath filling your lungs. Sam grabbed you and pulled you to him; his tears fell into your hair. Dean was breathing loudly, too, as his hand fell to your back. Sam pulled you away from him slightly so he could look over your body. Cas stepped toward you and placed his hand on your forehead; you felt the familiar tingling through your body as all your wounds were healed.

“She’s cured.” He nodded, looking at Sam. You laughed slightly, relief flooding through your body. Sam was running his hand down your hair; he too was letting himself laugh and relish in the relief. He pulled away again and cupped your face in his hands, pulling your lips to his.

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Honestly? Fucking starving.” You laughed, rolling your forehead against his.

“I’m on it, kid!” Dean said, shooting up and racing to the kitchen. Cas walked away too, following Dean.

“Thank you.” You turned to Rowena, taking her hand in yours.

“You’re welcome, dear.” Rowena bowed her head and walked out of the infirmary. Sam tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and leaned his head against yours again.

“I can’t stop touching you. I thought I lost you.” He whispered, his breath tickling your skin.

“I never mind you touching me.” You joked, your fingers playing with a button on his shirt. “You don’t have to worry about me going anywhere; I am staying right here with you.”

“I love you, so God damn much.” His hands were on your hips, pulling you even closer towards him.

“I love you too, Sam.” Your fingers were tangled in his hair.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He said, his voice breathy. Your eyes opened, and you pulled back slightly, looking into his face.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” You repeated, letting the happiness fill you. You both chuckled and looked into the eyes of each other; there were so much passion and love between the two of you it could almost be seen.

“Sam! Y/N! Dinners ready.” Dean's voice came from the kitchen. The two of you stood and made your way to the kitchen. You could easily walk on your own, and it felt so good to have your independence back. Sam couldn’t let you go through; his hands never left your skin. The two of you sat down to eat, and you looked at this family you had found in the darkest of times and smiled to yourself, thanking whoever was up there for bringing the light back into your life.

Tags: @supernatural3002

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imjustthemechanic · 4 years ago

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The Price of a Soul

Part 1/? - Agent Russel Part 2/? - The Letter Part 3/? - Miss Lake

Peggy and the real Agent Russel look into Miss Lake’s apartment, and find an unusual apology.

Both Peggy and Russel spent their mornings with a sketch artist, getting their memories of the mysterious woman’s face down on paper so they could be compared. When the two drawings were finally placed side by side, Peggy was not at all surprised to see they could very well be the same person. The woman who called herself ‘Kay’ had a pleasant oval face with a short, turned-up nose, the flawless skin Russel had already mentioned, and full lips that she accentuated with dramatic lipstick. She was, Peggy observed, not so much strikingly beautiful in herself as somebody who knew her own good best features and how to emphasize them.

Dottie had been very much the same.

With that done, Peggy was finally able to stop by at a diner for some breakfast, though it was nearly lunch time and her stomach was growling fiercely. Russel went with her.

“You’ve been eating all morning,” Peggy reminded him when he ordered the breakfast platter – bacon, eggs, sausages, potatoes, tomatoes, pancakes, and toast.

“I was in the trunk of my car for twenty-four hours, Agent Carter,” he replied. “I could eat a horse.”

“I think you already did. Have you called your wife?” Peggy asked.

He looked sheepish. “I asked one of the police to do it for me.”

Mrs. Russel had probably loved that. “How did that go?”

“I don’t know yet and I’m not sure I want to.”

“Mmm,” was all Peggy said. It was a strange thing… men often treated their wives as foolish annoyances, yet at the same time they could be utterly terrified of them, as if women were less people than they were forces of nature. “Well, perhaps you can consider it a learning experience.”

“Damned right,” Russel said. Peggy wondered what he thought he’d learned.

“I suppose I’m going to have to go over the whole story of my interactions with Miss Underwood again,” Peggy remarked, as the waitress set their breakfasts on the table. Oddly, it seemed less daunting now… as if telling it to the spy had been a reassuring practice run.

Russel cut himself a large square out of the edge of his pancakes and dipped it in syrup before stuffing it in his mouth. “Save it for the next guy, Agent Carter,” he said around the mouthful. “Call it a hunch but I think I’m about to be taken off this case.”

At least he was a realist, Peggy observed. She sat quietly for a moment as he devoured sausages whole, then reached into her bag and took out the envelope. “Agent Russel,” she said, “I believe our mutual friend may have given this to me. Did she get it from you?”

He looked up at the envelope and frowned. “I don’t think so. What’s in it?”

“A piece of paper with six numbers on it,” Peggy replied. “Seventy-nine, forty-seven, thirty-five, ninety-five, twenty-five, three.” They had burned themselves into her brain. She would never forget them, any more than she would have forgotten her own name. “Does that mean anything to you?”

Russel shook his head. “A code?” he suggested, and thought for a moment. “Latitude and longitude?”

“It’s an island in Northern Canada, I already looked it up,” Peggy said. “There’s nothing but sea ice for miles.” Would that mean anything to him? Did he know of her association with Steve?

He shrugged. “The only thing I can suggest is call the Canadians and ask them to take a look.”

Not his, then… and he hadn’t known the name Olga Barynova. Had the latter been a slip, or had ‘Kay’ deliberately fed her information? And what in the world could be the meaning of the coordinates coming from a likely Soviet operative? Before she placed any long-distance phone calls to Canada, Peggy really needed to find this woman. The only question was, having done so, would they be able to get any information out of her?

Peggy had told Daniel where she’d be, so it wasn’t a surprise when one of the policemen came into the diner and approached their table. “Agents?” he said. “We traced that phone number.”

“Yes?” Peggy perked up. She wouldn’t be surprised to find out it led to a pay phone, but that could at least be dusted for prints.

The man handed Agent Russel a piece of notepaper. “It belongs to a room above the Botticelli Gardens nightclub on Hollywood Boulevard. Some of the waitresses live up there. The woman who keeps the records, Mrs. Lowe, said room four was rented to a woman named Katherine Lake.”

Agent Russel opened his mouth, but Peggy got there first. “Did you show her the sketches?” she asked.

“That’s what I was going to ask,” said Russel.

“Not yet,” the policeman said.

“Then I’ll head over there at once,” said Peggy.

Russel nodded and held up a hand. “Waitress!” He snapped his fingers. “Can I get the rest of this to go?”

“I thought you were being taken off the case,” Peggy reminded him.

“I’ve got a personal interest now.”

“Is that a personal interest in apprehending this Miss Lake, or a personal interest in avoiding your wife?”

“Bit of both,” he admitted.

He probably thought Peggy would need help with the investigation, she observed. She just hoped he wouldn’t get too much in the way.

The Botticelli Gardens was a located in a three-storey building designed to look from the outside like an Italian Villa, with red roofs, decorative columns, and a pair of under-watered cypress tress flanking the front doors. At this time of day they were not yet open, so Peggy and Russel went around the side to the staff entrance and knocked.

The door opened to reveal a plump middle-aged woman of mixed racial ancestry, her frizzy dark hair only just contained in a bun at the back of her neck and a pair of cat-eye glasses perched precariously on her short nose. Both Peggy and Russel held up their badges.

“Ned Russel, FBI,” he said.

“Peggy Carter, SSR,” Peggy added. “Are you Mrs. Lowe?”

The woman heaved a sigh that suggested this was not the first time law enforcement had shown up on her doorstep this week. “Yes, I’m Gladys Lowe,” she said. “Now what?”

Peggy held up the sketch of Miss Lake. “Do you know this woman?”

“Yes,” said Mrs. Lowe, not even surprised. “That’s Kay Lake. Arthur hired her about a week ago, but she didn’t turn up for work yesterday evening. What’d she do?”

“Besides drugging me, robbing me, and leaving me locked in the trunk of my car?” asked Russel.

“Impersonating an FBI agent to gain access to classified information,” Peggy added. “And possibly more, we’re not sure yet. May we have a look at her room, please?”

Mrs. Lowe’s eyebrows rose and she whistled. “She’s ambitious. Most of them settle for petty theft. Come in, she’s room four. Are you going to impound her belongings?” She was probably hoping to sell them.

“That depends on what we find, Mrs. Lowe,” said Peggy.

Mrs. Lowe showed them upstairs. The second floor of the Botticelli Gardens was private party rooms for the VIP clientele, but the third was set aside as living quarters for the staff. The rooms were tiny and cramped, with only one bathroom and one laundry for the lot of them. Mrs. Lowe unlocked number four and Peggy followed Agent Russel inside.

It was empty. There was a tiny bed, a nightstand, a small wardrobe, and a smaller vanity under the one grubby little window. All the drawers and cupboard doors were open, to show that there was nothing in any of them. The bedclothes were folded at the end of the mattress, so it was easy to see that there was likewise nothing under the bed. The only thing in the room that would not have been there when Miss Lake moved in was a large brown paper bag on top of the folded sheets.

Peggy and Russel exchanged a glance. “Mrs. Lowe,” said Peggy. “Do you have any idea what might be in that bag?”

“No,” was the reply.

Russel edged forward and knocked it over. It lay quietly on the mattress, showing no signs of being dangerous, and Peggy realized there was something written on it. In block capitals, somebody had written: SORRY.

“Let me do it. I have gloves,” said Peggy. She pulled them out of her purse and put them on, then very carefully unfolded the top of the paper bag. The first thing she saw inside was a leather folio… was that the one Lake had with her the other day? Peggy pulled it out and opened it, and found it did indeed contain typed pages summarizing what was known about Dorothy Underwood.

“That’s mine,” said Russel.

“I expected as much,” Peggy put it on the bed and looked into the bag again. “It appears your wallet and badge are in here, too, and a gun that I suspect is your service revolver. We’ll have to get these dusted for prints.”

“Agreed,” Russel said. “I’ll take them back to…”

“Ah-ah,” Peggy interrupted. “I’ll take them back to the SSR and have it done there. You’ve been taken off the case, remember?”

“Not officially yet,” he pointed out.

“But you’re sure it’s coming.”

Russel looked her over. “Are you always this… intense, Agent Carter?”

“Always,” Peggy assured him, with a practiced deadpan.

Peggy called Daniel, and soon after the SSR arrived in force to take a proper, more thorough look at the room while Mrs. Lowe stood there frowning disapprovingly and threatening horrible fates on anybody who damaged the furniture. Men covered everything with fingerprint powder and rapped on the floor, walls, and even the ceiling looking for secret hiding places. They found none of the latter, but were able to obtain a reasonably good set of latent prints from the various drawers and the bedposts. The size of these suggested they were a woman’s, or at least belonged to somebody with small hands. There were also a couple of blonde hairs on the bedclothes.

Unfortunately, they had no suspect to compare these to. Miss Lake probably knew that perfectly well. They would have to actually capture her before they could prove anything.

While they were busy bagging the evidence, another policeman arrived, looking for Agent Russel.

“We’ve had a call from your office,” he explained. “They want to talk to you.”

“I’m surprised it took them this long,” Russel sighed. “All right, I’ll head over.” He retrieved his hat from the hook on the back of the door of room four, and put it on. “Good luck with the case, Agent Carter… and with Miss Underwood.”

“Thank you, Agent Russel,” said Peggy, and realized she actually felt a bit sorry for him. It was true he’d been a terrible fool, but he’d never tried to deny that or pass the blame on to anybody else, and while he wanted to put off the consequences for as long as he could, he seemed to realize they were inevitable. That was more than Peggy could say for a great many people she knew, male or female. It was certainly more than she could say for herself in this mess with Dottie.

“Good luck with your wife,” she told him.

“Thanks. I’ll need it,” he replied ruefully, and left the room.

Back in the SSR offices that evening, Peggy found an opportunity when nobody seemed to be watching, and brushed fingerprint dust over the mysterious envelope. Several prints developed, and Peggy pulled out her own employee file so she could eliminate which ones were hers. Quite a few of them were… but there were others that were not, and when she examined the actual page with the numbers, she found a print of the side of a hand where it had rested while drawing the star and circles, and a palm in the upper left corner where the other hand had steadied the page.

The prints were partial, and Peggy was not an expert… but the left thumb bore a set of four interrupted lines that looked very much like a thumbprint that had been taken from one of the drawer knobs in room four.

That seemed to settle it: the envelope had indeed been left by Miss Lake. It had nothing to say, though, about the question of why. Was this a trick, an attempt to send the SSR off on a wild goose chase so that Miss Lake could track down Dottie herself without their interference? Or did the Soviets actually know where Captain America was? And if they did, what were they planning to do about it?

#fanfic #captain america #agent carter #peggy carter #steve rogers #steggy #fix it fic

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deermi · 5 years ago

Text

Wonderwall | Part 4

Summary: He was a genius. He had absolutely everything. Money, fame, attention of all the celebrities, sports cars that everybody wanted, countless villas, and much more. The life every single person wanted to live. But all he needed was you.

Genre: Angst (I guess)

Warnings: Alcohol use

AU: Fashion CEO

Pairing: Kwon Jiyong x Reader

Word count: 3k~

Author’s note: Ah, I have so wany wips that I don’t know which ones to post. Anyways, “Wonderwall” will most probaby have 6/7 parts and an epilogue. I hope you liked this chapter and thank you for reading it!

We had spent the dinner rather quietly - eating, drinking, exchanging a few sentences from time to time. The waiters had been ogling our pair almost without any shame as we had sat at the table. I don’t know whether it had been because they had known who the man with neon green hair is, or because we had been acting so strangely around each other. Perhaps both reasons were correct. The atmosphere between us hadn’t been awkward nor stiff in the restaurant. It had been filled with some kind of tension, but I couldn’t have quite put my finger on it.

Now we were back in his car, heading to a destination that remained unknown for me. But I didn’t want to ask feeling like it would’ve been just another question of mine he’d ignore. It was so quiet inside the vehicle, the only sounds coming from the streets as we strolled around the city, that I had a feeling like the beating of my heart was as loud as a drum put next to Mr Kwon’s ear.

“You’re not going to ask where we’re going?”

I turned my head around with my brows furrowed at his sudden question. My boss had one of his hands on the steering wheel, the other resting lazily on the door of the car while his eyes were concentrated on the road ahead of us.

“I didn’t feel like it.” I answered bluntly, trying not show any interest in our destination

He glanced at me with the corner of his eye before focusing back on the traffic. There must’ve been a visible spark of unquenchable curiosity he had noticed because in a few seconds I heard his voice once more.

“We’re going to my place.” Mr Kwon nonchalantly moved his hair out of his eyes with his free hand

I bit on my tongue before blurting out the ‘what for’ that had almost slipped out of my lips. Instead I just nodded at his words and started to stare at the city lights out of the window back again. We strolled down, the dim brightness coming from the street lamps shining through the windows, making everything inside the vehicle appear yellowish. There were almost no people outside, making the night even quieter than I had previously thought it is. No usual honking of the cars, no roaring of engines, no sound coming from the radio.

That scene surrounding me was calming. Or at least should’ve been like that. However, with the knot of anxiety tightening inside my stomach, I wasn’t able to focus on the soothing silence.

It was madness. Pure madness. All the things that had happened since that damned photoshoot. Modeling, asking for my opinion, giving me a lift, and that dinner we just had. And telling me to call him Jiyong was on top of the peak. I had never heard of a boss asking one of his employees to call them by their first name. It was just another level of intimacy I would’ve never even thought of reaching. Moreover, it was completely unprofessional, especially that he insisted I did it at our workplace as well. It was just the first step to cause the rumors both among the workers and the world of celebrities. Although, it seemed to me that Mr Kwon either didn’t care about that, or simply wanted to cause them. What for? More fame? Recognition? I already had that. So maybe for himself? To make himself feel better by having someone close?

And then it hit me. The sudden realisation made me snap out of the transe I had been in for those few minutes of our ride.

I had never seen Mr Kwon with a friend, a colleague, or even talking to anybody who could’ve been one of them on the phone. Not mentioning a partner. All I could think of when I thought of him was hard work and absolute focus on it. He had his goals and always gave his all to reach them. And he actually did everytime - with his genius mind and determination he was almost destined to be successful. But what if behind this cold facade of strong will, was just a lonely soul which desperately needed comfort in the shape of another person’s warmth? What if he finally had enough of always being alone? Of being expected to be the genius who created ‘Peaceminusone’?

The heavy thoughts inside my head were suddenly interrupted by Mr Kwon stopping the car in front of a tall building. He turned off the engine and got out of the vehicle without sparing me a glance. I unbuckled my seatbelt hurriedly, fidgeting with the strap, ready to follow him. When it snapped roughly against the seat I reached out to grab the door handle, but it quickly flew out of my reach once Mr Kwon opened the door. I looked up and noticed that he was staring at me with his eyebrows raised.

Without a word he outstretched his hand for me to take, just like he had done it before in front of the restaurant. Once more I placed my palm on his and let him pull me out of the car.

While he was closing the door behind me, my eyes flew up to the sky. Mr Kwon had parked the car in front of a tall skyscraper. The windows of the building glistened as city lights reflected in them making it look like it was made out of black shiny crystal. My breath hitched in my throat at the sight. I felt so small facing the enormous structure, but the view was so beautiful and so overwhelming at the same time, I couldn’t help it.

It was weird how a simple skyscraper made me feel like that. Actually the stifling part of it was the thought that it was the place, or more probably one of the places, my boss lived in. And he was taking me inside with him - completely crossing the line drawn between the company’s boss and their employee once more.

We entered the building with his hand on the small of my back. The heels I was wearing were loudly tapping on the marble floor, completely breaking the silence inside the lobby. The man standing behind the reception desk bowed without a word at the sight of me and Mr Kwon entering. My boss led me to the elevator, without sparing a glance to the guy, and pressed the button. I felt the eyes of the receptionist burning holes in my back as we patiently waited. With the ring the door in front of us opened revealing the lightened inside of the elevator. Once we were alone within the four walls and the curious stare of the man was cut off, I let out a quiet sigh of relief while Mr Kwon was busy pressing the button at the very top of a long row of them.

Again any of us didn’t say a word letting the silence fill the space between us. I didn’t move, didn’t even dare to look at the mirror next to me, afraid that my reflection would reveal how stressed I actually was. And after what felt like eternity the door opened revealing the place my boss wanted me to see.

The enormous penthouse in front of my eyes almost literally shone with luxury. The glass chandelier above hanged above our heads making the light reflect in the stone floor as we stepped inside the living room, which was probably the size of my whole apartment, or even bigger. Everything inside just screamed ‘expensive’ - the leather sofa, the black television set, the huge window wall through which you could see the city lights shine below your feet. And above all, every single piece of furniture, every square meter of that space, reminded me of Mr Kwon. It was just his place. His place that I was invading despite the fact that he had invited me here. I felt like I just didn’t belong there.

“What wine do you prefer?”

I turned my head around to see my boss taking off his tuxedo jacket in one swift move before walking up to a glass cabinet full of different types of alcohol and opening it.

“Um…” I took a glance at the numerous bottles, not sure what to say, since there was surely a huge variety available “White. Semi sweet.”

Without any answer Mr Kwon just grabbed one of the wines along with two glasses. He walked up to a coffee table in front of the leather sofa and placed everything on the surface. Swiftly he opened the bottle and began to pour the clear liquid into the tumblers.

In the meantime I came closer to the window. The view in front of me was absolutely breathtaking. Seeing the whole city shine beautifully during the night and having it almost literally at my feet was one of the most picturesque sights I had ever seen in my life.

When Mr Kwon finished pouring the wine, he approached me with a glass in each hand and handed out one of them. The smell of sweet alcohol reached me before my fingers wrapped around the fragile crystal. He gently bumped his tumbler into mine, making the sound of clattering echo inside the room.

I took a sip of the drink feeling the slightly bitter flavour on my tongue. The taste was much different from the taste of the wine you could get in any supermarket, making me wonder how much was this alcohol actually worth.

With the glass still against my lips I turned around to look at the night sky again.

“Do you like it?” Mr Kwon asked me

“The view?” I glanced at him with the corner of my eye and saw him giving me a single nod before sipping on the wine “Yes. I actually like it a lot.”

“Do you want it every day?” his another question hanged in the air for a few seconds as I started to process his words “Do you want to be able to see it every day?”

“What do you mean?” I asked with a small voice, afraid of what might come next

“I can buy you an apartment like this one.” he answered nonchalantly like it was something completely normal

I immediately shook my head abruptly trying to get that idea out of his head “Thank you, Jiyong. But I really can’t ac-“

“Or you can stay here with me.”

I almost choked on the wine.

“W-what?”

In response he shrugged with his eyes focused on the view in front of us and said “You’ll do whatever you want. It’s your decision.”

For a few seconds none of us said anything, as his words echoed in my head.

“Just say a word and you’ll get anything you want.” he added

I took a shaky breath trying to ignore my heart beating loudly against my ribcage. I took another sip of the wine hoping the alcohol would give me either more courage, or help me relax.

“Okay.” I whispered quickly with the glass pressed against my lips

We were just looking out of the window, absorbing the night view in front of us with the bitter taste on both of our tongues. I desperately drank up the liquid looking for some kind of relief in it. Mr Kwon, without any warning, took the glass from my hands and walked up to where the bottle was standing to refill it along with his. While he was busy pouring the drink I took a few hesitant steps toward the sofa standing in the middle of the room. My boss’ eyes followed me as I plopped down on the leather seat, feeling the material of the black dress I was wearing fold against the skin of my legs.

If Mr Kwon had had something against my actions, he hadn’t spoken a it out loud, but I was slowly starting to get used to the thought that I was allowed to do almost everything here.

I didn’t know wether it was the alcohol that made me feel slightly dizzy, or the atmosphere between me and Mr Kwon. Yet I felt somehow weightless - the boundaries that had previously stopped me from doing what I wanted around my boss began to disappear.

He sat down next to me, resting his arm on the back of the couch and handed me the wine. His eyes carefully scanned my frame as I took the glass from his hands and drained out the whole liquid from inside.

Did I want to get drunk? Maybe. But I for sure wanted to feel even lighter, even more immune to anything that was happening around me for the past few days. It was all so bizzare and almost completely inimaginable. Still, it was the reality that I had to live in. I wanted to make it easier, less stressful, or I wanted to give myself more courage to bear with it. And I wanted to do it as fast as possible.

“Can I have more?” I asked quietly, looking Mr Kwon in the eyes for the first time in forever

He stared at me with his obsidian dark orbs for a moment before grabbing the bottle and pouring the liquid into my glass until the very last drop. Once more I pressed the tumbler against my lips and let more alcohol run through my veins.

My visit to this place was just the beginning and I was fully aware of that. How could I handle more? What could come next?

I wasn’t afraid of Mr Kwon - yes, he was cold for most of the time, but the realisation that had hit me during our ride was helping me understand his actions at least to some extent. Were I his remedy? Were I the warmth he lacked? Or maybe something different? A person others would describe as a muse, an inspiration?

“What are you thinking about?” Jiyong’s quiet voice pierced through my thoughts, making me look at him as I let my head fall down on the back of the seat behind me

“Nothing important.” I whispered not trusting my voice enough to speak louder

My eyelids felt heavier than before, the alcohol finally rushing to my head. I closed my eyes and started to take slow, deep breaths, the silence in the room calming me down. Mr Kwon slowly took out the empty glass from my hands and I heard him placing it on the table along with his. I felt his burning gaze on my face as everything went quiet once more.

“You’re beautiful.” the subtle touch of his fingers slowly caressing my cheek made me look at him, immediately locking my eyes with his dark ones “So beautiful.”

And before I could even realise, Jiyong’s lips gently touched mine. I had to proceed what was happening because it felt so unreal. The breath caught in my throat at his actions as I looked straight ahead dumbfoundedly, feeling stonecold sober for a few seconds. I couldn’t push him away - I didn’t know wether I even wanted to do that. So I let my eyelids fall down as I kissed him back slowly without any emotions. There was nothing in the kiss - it was empty. No love, no passion, not even lust. No anything. Just lips moving against lips, skin against skin.

His mouth pressed more firmly on mine when he felt me kissing him back. He moved his hand that had previously been caressing the skin of my cheek to my waist. Jiyong tilted his head to deepen the kiss and swiftly swiped his tongue against mine.

My body felt numb, head empty, no thoughts. I let the alcohol in my veins work for me.

His grip on my waist got stronger and he moved me to sit on his lap without disconnecting our lips. The dress rode up my thighs, revealing more skin of my legs, as I straddled him with my palms pressed on his shoulders to steady myself. I let his tongue explore my mouth making the bitterness of wine strengthen on my lips. Jiyong’s kisses were desperate, firm. His skilled mouth worked against mine making me feel dizzy not from the emotions coming from it, but the alcohol taking control over my body.

He pulled mt flush against his chest making me grip the soft material of his white shirt. He pressed another open mouthed kiss to my lips before pulling away, lacking air as much as I did. His forehead was pressed against mine, while his hand rose up from my waist and moved the loose hair away from my face.

“Stay for the night.” Jiyong’s voice was soft yet firm

I could’ve said no. But for some reason I didn’t. Perhaps because of the boost of confidence the wine had given me. Or maybe because some part of me wanted to be what would fix him, make him feel better.

“Okay.”

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sondepoch · 5 years ago

Text

Day 4

10 Days (Jumin Han x Reader)

You didn't expect to find yourself locked in an engagement to Chairman Han, but with your own mother forcing you into it, you have no way of denying her. But as time continues and things change, you begin to develop affections for your fiance's son: Jumin Han. But the sad truth is that there's nothing either of you can do to stop the marriage, and you only have these 10 days before your future becomes reality. 10 days with Jumin Han.

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9 | Day 10 | ✔

MASTERLIST

Sleep never comes.

You spend the entire night alert, impossibly aware of every car moving around and every voice coming from apartments below. Your senses are on fire, lit up with fear and terror of what's to come.

And by the way Jumin looks at you in the morning, your lack of sleep shows.

"Eat," He says, when his chef brings out an extravagant breakfast. "You look awful."

"Thanks," You mumble sarcastically, not caring about being polite. You clench your jaw when you look down at the food. It's a breakfast fit for a king, a dozen different plates spread between you two. Jumin has placed a portion of baked egg danish with kimchi and bacon onto his plate, and his chef has served him fried eggs with hazelnuts and blackberries. There's a fruit arrangement, two egg and cheese soufflés, and more crumpets than two people would ever be able to consume. And the chef is still placing plates down.

Still, all you can bring to your stomach is a small waffle square that brngs you back to your days in the orphanage, when life had been sweet and peaceful. When your parents hadn't been in the picture.

"Jumin," You begin, voice low. "Before my mom comes. There's something you need to know."

There are a lot of things he needs to know, You can't help but think. And if he knew them, he wouldn't have called my mother, but I have to at least tell him this.

"I'm adopted."

He doesn't even take a pause from his breakfast, not bothering to meet your eyes. "I know."

Your eyes widen.

How?! Your parents have taken every precaution to keep that aspect of their life a secret, never wanting the world to know that they're incapable of producing child.

Jumin must notice the confused look in your eye, though, because he explains: "After you called Luciel...well, I don't know what impression you left him with, but he automatically assumed you were an enemy of mine. He sent me a file on you, thinking that I'd use it to blackmail you to protect myself."

Oh.

No wonder.

The world doesn't know it, but BC-Sonic has invested billions of dollars into user privacy and security, so you'd instantly known that 707, or apparently Luciel, was a top-tier hacker. And then he'd gone back and breached your company's security two more times until BC-Sonic had shifted its algorithms completely. So there's no real surprise that he'd been able to uncover the details of your adoption.

But what else does Luciel know? And more importantly..."What else was in the file?"

Jumin flicks a bored eye up at you, thinking. "Nothing noteworthy. It went in chronological order, so your adoption was the first thing I saw. I didn't look at it much after that point."

A small smile finds its way to your face, despite the situation. Even when he doesn't have to, Jumin always seems to find a way to be a gentleman.

"Can I see the file?" You ask hopefully, needing to know the depth of Luciel's information.

"I already returned it back to him," Jumin responds. "Why? Was there something specific you wanted to know?"

You swallow. Jumin has now stopped eating, putting all his attention on you. Underneath his piercing gaze, you can't help yourself. "Did it say anything about..."

Child abuse?

"...Nevermind," You say quickly, cutting a waffle square and shoving it into your mouth so you have an excuse not to speak.

It's bad enough that Jumin may piece together the truth at the meeting with your mother tomorrow, you have no intentions of bringing it up any earlier than necessary.

"Should I take the day off?" Jumin inquires after a moment. "I've already cleared my schedule for tomorrow, and my assistant should be able to move my meetings for today."

"Why would you need to take today off?" You ask, unable to hide your irritance. "I'm fine."

"Of all the words to describe you right now, fine is not one of them."

You shoot Jumin another glare, but you know he's right. Last night was one of the first sleepless nights you've had in a long time, and your body is not adjusting well. And it doesn't help that every time you think about seeing your mother, the pit in your stomach gets even deeper. But still: you don't want Jumin risking his reputation at C&R on your account.

"There's nothing you can do for me by staying home," You blurt, not caring about how rude it sounds. "Go. We'll see each other in the evening."

Jumin opens his mouth in protest, but you give him no chance, standing up and leaving the room as quickly as possible. A bubble of guilt begins to rise in the depths of your consciousness, where you know that Jumin is simply doing all he can to make sure that both you and his father are happy...but he knows too little of the truth.

And he has too much power, you can't help but think.

That is the one spot of hope you have—that your mother, even if she hurts you tomorrow, won't do it in front of Jumin. She can't possibly be that bold, can she? Not in front of a man with such powerful influence. Even if the meeting brings you pain, it'll be in private, without Jumin ever finding out.

I can only hope, you think absentmindedly. You hear the front door close, signifying Jumin's leave.

You sigh.

Heart heavy with a need to distract yourself before you start shamefully crying once more, you turn to entertainment to preoccupy your thoughts. What should you watch? The Big Mermaid? Cinderemma? The Lion Prince? You turn the TV on and scroll through the titles before selecting Beauty and the Feast, a heartwarming tale about a comely woman and her neverending appetite.

But the moment the credits start rolling, your mind darts back to thoughts of your childhood, and all the pain you'd endured. Absentmindedly, you bring a hand down to your outer thigh and massage the spot, a motion you've done hundreds of times before to soothe yourself.

No, you tell yourself, angrily shifting your hand away. I need to leave those memories—and those habits—in the past. As soon as tomorrow is over, Mother will never lay a hand on me again and I can forget everything. For real, this time.

You turn on One Hundred and One Damnations and force your mind into the setting of the movie, repeating the pattern over and over again until the entire day has gone by like that: angrily binging children's' movies to distract yourself from reality.

You don't even notice that Jumin has returned until he awkwardly coughs. "Is this how you spent your day?" He inquires, one eyebrow raised.

"Better than nightmares all day like yesterday," You respond plainly, scooting over on the couch. You pat the spot expectantly, and Jumin regards you with mild amusement before walking off. You pout for a moment, but then he returns, now with his blazer off and tie loosened. The man sets two wine glasses on the coffee table and pours himself a glass of red, leaving you a glass on the table in case you desire it.

And just like that, you hit the play button and the movie continues.

Except that this time, each time your mind gets pulled away from the movie, it's not your mother you think about. It's the businessman himself: Jumin.

His expression is relaxed, from the wine or the movie you don't know. Even his usually sharp gaze is now softened as he watches Ponald Puck stomp around on the screen. You can't tell if he's actually invested in the movie or not, because every now and then his gaze drifts to the windowed wall, where there's a beautiful sunset, or to the chandelier looming above your heads, or to his reflection in the wine; but there's something utterly mesmerizing about watching him.

He's handsome, you realize. How is it that you've never noticed it before?

It's only the few times that his gaze actually shifts to you that you move your eyes away to focus on the movie, though your thoughts drift back to him soon enough.

"You should sleep," Jumin says quietly, when a new batch of credits rolls onto the screen for the sixth time.

"I don't want sleep," You respond. Though you're certain he understands your real meaning. I don't want nightmares.

Jumin sighs, taking the remote away from you before you can put on another movie. "(Y/N), it's been over twenty-four hours since you last slept. Considerably longer than that, actually. This can't be good for your health."

"I'll make it work."

Before Jumin can answer, your phone begins to buzz. You pull it up, and the entire screen is lit up with Chairman Han's contact picture.

You stiffen. Taking his call is the last thing you want to deal with, right now.

Next to you, Jumin places his wine glass down on the coffee table. His soft gaze flits over you before he takes the phone from your hand. "Hello, father? Ah yes...(Y/N) is already asleep, she left her phone on the table. Of course. Very well, I'm taking the day off tomorrow but I'll tell my assistant to set up a meeting. Oh, no reason...Yes. You as well. Good night."

Jumin hangs up and places the phone next to the wine glass, making no mention of what he just did.

You avert your eyes. "Thank you," You tell him, your voice quiet enough to have been lost in the light breeze from the ceiling fan.

Jumin sighs and turns, all of his attention centered on you. But for once, his gaze isn't calculating as he looks at you, or even sharp. His expression is different tonight, a stormy sky of passionate thunder and lustful wind swirling and mixing all in his gray eyes.

"You can talk to me," He tells you gently, after staring at you for what feels like hours.

Somehow he's managed to pin you to your spot with his eyes alone, and as much as you want to give in—to tell him the truth about your horrid childhood and all your fears of the life you're getting into with Chairman Han—you know that you can't burden him like that. This is your weight to bear, and your life to manage.

"No, Jumin." You tell him. "I can't."

His jaw clenches momentarily and he looks down. In turn, you sigh, hating yourself for denying him. But you have to do it. You can't give in. You can't.

"I want to help you, (Y/N)."

"We don't need to talk for that. Just..." You bring your gaze up to Jumin's, and when your eyes meet you pull your gaze away, staring at your hands. There's only one thing you can ask of Jumin. "Just be here for me."

"Okay," He says, bringing his head lower so that his forehead is resting against yours. "I'm here."

It's...oddly peaceful.

Neither of you move. With each passing second, you feel the weight of your memories and the fears of your future slowly fade, until you're not thinking about them at all and all that remains is the present.

Your breathing slows, and you release a sigh of content when Jumin wraps his larger hands around yours, slowly caressing each finger before rubbing soothing circles on the soft skin. Your mind feels completely empty, devoid of thoughts of your mother and Chairman Han. All that exists in the moment is you.

And him.

And his hand, as it rises to your cheek.

And his thumb, as he delicately tilts your chin upward so that you're meeting his eyes, the blueish grays never being as soft and tender as now. Whatever storm of emotion that was in them before is now cleared. All that remains a silent question: Is this okay?

And as you both lean forward, all that exists is his lips on yours, so gentle and loving but tender with promises of more to come, and nothing can shatter the infinitely precious moment.

Somewhere, in the distance, you hear one of Jumin's clocks strike twelve times.

Midnight.

But even so, as Jumin brings a hand to cup your cheek and you wrap your arms around his neck, neither of you can bring yourselves to care, and even time doesn't exist in the perfect world you're both immersed in: the worlds of each other.

MASTERLIST

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9 | Day 10 | ✔

Word count: 2.2k

Notes: So...If you follow my other fic Where Futures Begin, you'd notice that I haven't been updating....and that's because I physically cannot type with my left hand at all without the process being 10x slower >.> I've been able to keep updating on this story because I've had some prewritten chapters, but Day 5 will probably be on the shorter side if my hand doesn't heal :( My hand is also the reason i've been posting more oneshot fics, I've just been going through drafts and making minor edits >.> I'm sorry for the inconvenience!

Comment & Like

Next Update: 4/25/20

I do not own the rights to Mystic Messenger or any of the characters within it.

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samwrights · 5 years ago

Text

Love Bites - Punk!AU [Terushima]

ASDFGHJKL oh my god, these chapters killed me. But we’re finally at the actual show for Elixir--hooray! If you haven’t read the prologue to this mini-series, I’ll leave a link for you right here, and if you haven’t read the previous chapter titled Bricks, you can go ahead and click here. Artwork is not mine so if we can find the artist, let me know so I can properly credit them!

Lyrics are italicized and sang entirely in your voice.

Warnings: Cheating and Language. Minor mention of nicotine.

Song Used: Love Bites (So Do I) by Halestorm

Word Count: ~3.5k

A complementary playlist can be found » here

“Baby, wake up,” is the first thing you hear in the morning, brought to you by the raspy voice of Yūji Terushima. Squeezing your eyes shut as you try to filter out sunlight, you surrender to your surroundings, opening your eyes one at a time to see Teru resting with his bare back on the headboard of his bed. His serene expression gives you heart palpitations. Even more so when you realize you’re just as bare as he is and that you’re cradled into his chest with your arms lazily resting on his stomach with his around your back and that you’re in his bed, rather than the other way around. No matter what transpired between the two of you, it was an unwritten rule that you never stayed at his house. His parents, though they loved you dearly, had no idea what was going on between the two of you and vaguely knew that Terushima was dating someone else. It was harder for the two of you to keep things a secret under their roof, which was why the rule had even been agreed upon in the first place. “We should probably get the van loaded up at some point.”

“Can we have breakfast first?” The incessant rumbling of your stomach adding further validation to your plea. Terushima let’s out a laugh before pressing his lips gingerly into your hair as if you would shatter from the contact. Honestly, the only thing that could potentially shatter your bliss right now was Minami walking into his house right now, and that was far from likely.

Speaking of bliss, Yūji Terushima is on cloud nine. Even after suffering the cold sweats of coming down from his high at some point in the middle of the previous night, he could say with resounding confidence that waking up next to you was probably going to be the pinnacle of his life. It was probably going to come crashing down after this, he figured, as what goes up must come down as it often did for him. Terushima knows his life patterns quite well. So for now, he was going to soak in every second, every inch of your bare skin, for as long as he could. “Mm,” the blonde hums, “not quite yet.”

In a matter of minutes, Terushima has you on your back, suspending himself with locked arms before his lips latched onto yours. The blonde sucked on your bottom lip, taking the flesh between his teeth before snaking his tongue to intertwine with yours. Slow and steady movements that greatly contradicted the man’s persona was his course of action the tip of his tongue traced over every tooth, every fiber of your being, as he commited all of it memory. He had to make sure this was real. Resting on one palm, his free, ink-laden hand travels down your bare body, feeling every curve your and scar that came with life, down to past the dip of your belly button before cusping your cheek. “You’re really here,” comes his broken warble when he pulls away, as if yesterday was a cocaine-induced delusion.

“I’m really here.” You parrot affectionately, mimicking the action he made with his hand to your cheek, though the tip of your fingers graze the dermal on his left cheekbone. “I’m here, and I’m hungry.” A breathy, half-hearted laugh escapes him as he fights the urge to make a sexual innuendo.

“Alright, alright. I’ll go make food.”

“Actually, I should probably go home and shower and get ready.” A pout forms on the drummer’s face at the suggestion, as if letting you leave would somehow change everything that occurred in the last fifteen or so hours. But as his resolve, and his pout, weaken and falter, a devilish grin comes out to play.

“Or,” immediately, you don’t like where this is going, “I make food and you go load up the van, then we get ready at your place.” Subconsciously, your jaw clenches for a brief minute before relaxing once again, finding no flaw in his logic but one.

“Or,” you copy, “you go load up the van and I make breakfast so that you don’t burn down your parents kitchen.”

“Babe, I’m literally a quarter of a century old, I know how to fucking cook.” Yūji deadpans, making you laugh heartily. You don’t believe him for a second. The two of you are up and getting dressed to move about your day, though your leggings and cut off tee are less than appealing to wear at the moment. Not that you ever scowled at the thought of rewearing clothes but you had been sweaty from practice and there were bound to unfavorable fluids on last night’s clothes. Terushima notices the disgusted grin on your face at the thought. He tosses you a clean, spare shirt and some boxers while the two of you dressed as if you weren’t in some strange, domesticated version of the twilight zone.

“Sweetie, I lived with you for four years. You could literally burn water.” After the clothes were on, you stepped towards the drummer, placing a kiss just under his dermal, before flitting off down the stairs towards the kitchen. Whether he wanted to argue who was doing the work, you won solely based off of the fact that he was left stunned in his room at the sight of you wearing his clothes—his boxers, no less. If this was a dream or he was in fact in the twilight zone, please please please nobody wake him up and bring him back to reality.

Despite you never staying over at Yūji’s house before, you knew exactly where everything was, thanks to you being the unofficial mom of the crew. You grab what you need to make a small meal for the two of you, knowing that time wasn’t necessarily on your side at the moment. While it may still be just before noon, there was still so much to do before arriving at the venue at six. Off in the distance, you can hear Terushima disassembling his drum kit in his basement and, for a moment, an ounce of pride swelled within you—he finally remembered to do that first before lugging everything off to the van. It was a small victory, one that hardly warranted praise but, after so many shows, you’d think he would finally remember to make his job easier on himself.

However, the clattering noises begin to fade into the background as your mind wanders into autopilot mode. Sure, you’re cooking food and your hands are occupied, but the once therapeutic activity seemed to take a back burner to what was currently plaguing you. The only thing that could shatter your bliss at the moment was if Minami were to walk in right now. You tried your best not to think of that very scenario as you finished plating up your meals. “Teru, come eat!” You called out from the top of the stairs that lead to the basement. The blonde hustles up the staircase, stopping briefly to press his lips to yours before chowing down on his food.

Minami could shatter your guys’ little bubble of domestic peace, but she would have to go through you first. And you would absolutely be lying to yourself and everyone else if the thought of her fighting you for the drummer didn’t bring you sick satisfaction.

“The vans all packed up,” Terushima announces in between bites. “So I can grab clothes and shit and get ready with you at your apartment.”

“Yūji, you clingy little shit,” you joke, “maybe I want some time to myself!”

“Do you?” There’s a flash of hurt in eyes for a moment, and you knew that you probably shouldn’t have said it. Considering the fragile circumstances, he was still vulnerable after everything that transpired. Terushima was still afraid that all of this was going to shatter the minute you were free of him.

“No, Teru, I was kidding.” You try to convince him, but he’s not buying it. A sigh leaves you as you set down the plate on the island counter you were standing in front of before you look at the drummer with full, earnest eyes. Reading your body language, he does the same before you grab his hands in yours. As if drinking in every charcoal grey line of his tattoos, you trace up the linework starting from the wrist of his left arm, moving in painstakingly slow glances until you followed where they ended at his clavicle before you looked at him square in his almond eyes once again. “It’s you and I, right?” You ask cautiously, echoing the conversation from last night.

“For as long as you’ll have me.”

“Then let’s go get ready,” you do your best to offer a reassuring smile, pecking him just under his dermal once again, “finish up eating. I think we need a shower.”

Yūji has finally calmed down, or rather as calm as he could be, after having a long, warm shower with you back at your apartment. Did it make sense for him to leave his home to get ready when the two of you were going to be coming right back? No. But at the moment, a lot of things between the two of you didn’t seem to make sense and that was okay. By the time the two of you returned, Makki and Kuroo were already present, donning confused looks as to why Terushima got out of your car rather than his parent’s home. In lieu of a response, the aforementioned blonde only shrugged before climbing into the back seat of the van with Makki, leaving Kuroo to drive as usual with you in the passenger’s side. Everyone is situated and you and Kurro are holding cigarettes between your lips, but the gutiarist doesn’t move otherwise. “Alright, I’m just gonna say it,” the driver announces after turning the engine, “we’ve known that you two are boning but this just weird. What’s going on?”

“Oh thank god,” Makki breathes out in reprieve, though neither you nor Terushima speak. To be frank, neither of you really had a clue. You knew that he wanted to be with you and you with him, but there was no clear definition in the sense that there were still a few kinks to work out. Minami, for example. “Are you two, like, actually together now?” Your eyes lock with the drummer’s bronze ones, wondering who’s going to be the first to say it out loud. Knowing his insecurities, you decided it had to be you.

“Yeah, if that’s what you wanna call it.”

“YES! Cough it up, Kuroo, you owe me fifty!” The sudden crescendo in volume coming from your normally quiet bassist makes you jump.

“Dude, the fuck?” You look at the driver with narrowed eyes. “You bet against us?”

“Oh, don’t say it like that,” Kuroo defends, “I just bet that you were going to date someone else first because you couldn’t wait for Terushima to get his head out of his ass.”

“Y’all can fuck off,” You grumble before climbing into the back seat. Your anger was satirical, but at the moment, all you wanted was to be curled up with Yūji now that the cat was out of the bag. However, with the van in motion and you being buckled in the passenger’s seat, you decided to sit tight, flicking the collecting pile of ashes out the window before bringing your cigarette to your lips once again. “Now enough analyzing our relationship, we got a show to play.”

In hindsight, you should have known that being with Yūji Terushima wasn’t going to be as simple as “yes, we’re dating now” and that was no fault on his part. If anything, it’s as much your fault because you’re just as reckless and never check for lose ends before committing to anything. And, in hindsight, you really should prepared yourself in the event that Minami attended your show because, considering last nights events, Teru didn’t even think about telling her to fuck off and not show up tonight.

What a mess.

Even more so when the girl immediately flanked to give the drummer a hug before reprimanding him for wearing a tank top. Yes, a tank top. God did you hate her. From what you could hear of the conversation, Minami had told him to grab a spare sweat or jacket or something to cover up his shoddy, apprentice-done, experimental tattoos and that he looked like he rolled right out of bed. The worst was her asking how he could have pride as a man when he showed up to “work” as a slob, and how she was almost embarrased to be here. But she’s playing coy as she says all these things, her lips curling in a flirty grin to attempt to convince him that she’s just teasing. You knew better. Nobody just says that about their partner nonchalantly and if they did, they were just a bit fucked up in the head. “Hey, Yūji, we’ve got to go set up.” Your voice is soft yet direct as you try to all but pry her away from him.

“Yūji?” Minami has never heard you call him by his first name, you realize.

“That’s his name, isn’t it?” The retort left your lips before you could stop it, earning you a nasty look from Minami. It didn’t matter, you decided, before putting a guiding hand on your drummer’s shoulder. “C’mon, we’re running behind.” Without another word to Minami from either of you, you bring him to the back of the venue and into the staging area. He didn’t need to say it, nor was he going to because the sudden anxiety piling in his chest was drowning him, but he was thankful for your intervention. Each comment his girlfriend made cracked his tempermental heart just a little bit further, even if her opinion didn’t necessarily matter to him because he couldn’t help but wonder if you had felt the same way she did. Terushima shakes away the idea instantly. You were the one that always stopped the nagging voices in his head, the ones that told him that if Minami could speak such things about him into existence then it must be true. You were his peaceful meadow in the middle of a storm. Its just another thing he’s indebted to you, he supposed, one he hoped to be able to rectify by the end of the night.

It’s hot.

It always is when you play a show which usually contributed to the fact that you and Terushima always wore tank tops when performing, despite the conversation you heard earlier. Coincidentally, the two of you were matching with white tanks and ripped up black jeans, accented by a thin red tie that had no place being worn except to hide the hickies the two of you had given each other the previous night. It was a coincidence, but was not a detail that the audience, specifically Minami and the other girlfriends, had overlooked.

“How the fuck is everyone doing tonight?” Growing Pains, the third song in Elixir’s setlist, has just ended, meaning that you were a third of the way through your set. At your question, the audience, which was larger than normal, you gathered at screamed in response. The sheer volume made you smile and laugh with the small fan base that you had as it reminded you that, at the end of the day, whether you four were successful or not, you still touched people’s lives. “That’s what I like to hear! You guys seemed to be having a lot of fun with our newer songs and we thank you for that, but right now we’re gonna throw it back real quick.”

After your brief intermission and the introduction of your next song, Terushima gave his starting count in addition to a few hits on his cymbals, leading the rest of the band to start the snappy rhythm of the next song. As the opening lines begin to swirl in your head while listening for the moment you were supposed to jump in, it dawns on you that this very well could turn catastrophically ugly—the thought excited you.

Don’t listen what your girlfriend says

You had written this song for Yūji so long ago, never once considering that maybe, just maybe, one day performing this song was going to come back to bite you in the ass. And yet, considering Love Bites was one of your most revered and streamed tracks on your band’s Spotify, you can’t find it in yourself to feel an ounce of remorse. Especially as you lock eyes with Minami for a brief moment and you swear she knows. She knows exactly who this was written for, and she knows the war you’re declaring, and she knows you don’t fucking care.

I know a thousand ways to help you forget about her

You couldn’t bring yourself to care about her opinion as you pace around the stage, your hair swinging wildly as you cradle your microphone to add to your stage appearance. For a moment, you take a look at your guitarist, watching the way Kuroo’s knowledge and expertise of the riffs he had played time and time again came to life on his signature Stratocaster. The raven-haired man was grinning, tongue peaking out a little bit and he licked his dry lips—he was in his element.

Love bites, but so do I.

You bring your attention to your bassist, Hanamaki echoing your vocals as you did so. He looked calm as ever with a knowing, glassy look in his stoned eyes. Knowing, in the sense that he could tell you were a little more enthusiastic than usual due to the nature of the song. Knowing, like he was preparing for trouble because he could practically rip the ever growing tension straight out of the atmosphere between you and Minami despite dozens of people standing between you.

You’ve suffered in the darkness I’ll suck the pain right out

And finally, you bring your attention back to your drummer. The matching outfits, that were coincidental, were a nice touch. Terushima is bobbing his head, mouthing words in sync with you as the red tie around his neck is swishing back and forth wildly like a pendulum as he moves. For a moment, the two of you lock eyes, prompting you to give a mischievious smile before transitioning to the second chorus.

I kiss you in a way you’ll never forget about me

Coming full circle, you were faced with the crowd once again. Though the others in the band may not have felt the same way, or maybe they did, you weren’t entirely sure, one of the most satisfying feelings in the world to you besides having Terushima’s arms around you, was watching your audience lose their shit. The way young teens and adults would fight for the front closest to the small barricade of the venue for your attention; the way crowd surfers were thrown on stage, their lips moving in sync with yours as they sing along before flipping back into the crowd in a stage dive; the way everybody was just having a grand old fucking time—there was no greater feeling.

I was down and out, got up and said, “hey love I’ve had enough” I’ve felt pleasure without pain

It wasn’t often you did this—this being you jumping off stage, microphone still in hand, and walking on the safe side of the barricade while Kuroo did his little guitar solo. At the first line of the final chorus, you weren’t even singing; not alone at leasst, and Yūji would be lying if he said it didn’t cause him to panic in the slightest. He knew how crazy the crowds could get and even with security, people could still push on the gates themselves and hurt you and oh god Minami was right at the edge of the stage and what the fuck were you—

The blonde’s mind was reeling as you sauntered over towards her corner off to the side of the barricade but he had never in his ten years of knowing you seen you so confident with your movements as you veered away from his line of sight. Not even in the way you told him you loved him time and time again, not ever in the way you held him countless times while he was in a bad high. You had never been so sure of your actions as you swiped a finger under Minami’s chin, singing directly to her, serenading her.

Love bites, but so do I

You were goading her, aching for her to swing. The fire in her eyes as the realization set in Minami’s little brain—you’d been dying to see it, dying to do it. You’d had enough of the way she treated Terushima, the way she knocked down the most wonderful person you knew. No more. No more taking this shit lying down—he was yours and you wanted to make sure she understood that.

Yūji Terushima: the twenty five year old man covered in shitty basement tattoos with more healed over holes of retired piercings who still lived with his parents so he could live comfortably and chase after teenage dreams, was yours. And as much as you wanted her to react, the song was over and you needed to make your way back to the stage and move about with your day.

As soon as the song finishes, Terushima stands up from his drum set while the audience is giving their applause. As wonderful as it is to hear that sound, he was panicking at the fact that he wasn’t able to see everything happening down below as soon as you had moved out of his line of sight. He’s standing before you, his hands gripping your forearms, eyes in a deadlock with yours to make sure you weren’t hurt. Laughter flickers in your eyes before a smile works it’s way to your lips, thinking of other ways you could make your declaration loud and clear.

If Minami didn’t know then, she knew now by the way you pressed your lips onto Teru’s with your fingers threading into the base of his undercut in the middle of the stage.

[ Bricks « Love Bites » Critical Mistake ]

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purkinje-effect · 4 years ago

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The Anatomy of Melancholy, 67: Albatross

Table of Contents. Second Instar, Chapter 34. Go to previous. Go to next. TWs: Digestion issues, manipulative behavior. Strokes of luck.

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“I still don’t get why you had to bring the leftover Flamer fuel.” Melancholy squirmed in the bed roll Sticks had wrapped him in to sling on his back. His stomach had churned for hours. “Are you expecting to find a replacement flamethrower?”

“Things have purposes.”

“I’m keen to overlook Mister Hawthorne bringing something frivolous, when he brought so much silt bean flour! I just might get three meals a day into you yet.”

“Getting it into me, and keeping it in me, present two different challenges.”

“You really are struggling with that Radscorpion omelette, huh.”

“I tell you, it’s not your cooking that’s got me.” ‘Choly stifled a whine and did his best to offset the rocking of Sticks’s gait. They’d cut down the Lowell Connector to follow Route 3 South, while avoiding the RobCo Towers property. “I’m sure I’d be much worse for wear if you hadn’t forced breakfast into me before we left.”

“We still have several bottles of your Melancholia, Sir, whenever you’re next in a patch you can manage to eat something.” Vigilant albeit loaded down with cargo, Angel alternated between taking the lead and taking the rear. “Sir... are you certain you’re fit to make this trip? I’m sure there’s all manner of places we could settle down. You know I do not mind looking after you, and--”

“--I’m fine.” He snorted, sinking back deeper into the ushanka to keep his eyes shut. “I just have business first.”

“Need I remind you, Mister Carey. You requested an excursion to retrieve medical grade equipment. If you’re frail enough to be on par with someone fresh off the operating table, you must be ever respectful of your limitations.”

‘Choly could feel Sticks’s shoulders bristle.

“This is a team effort, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Wouldn’t you gentlemen rather try other nearby hospital facilities?”

“Just about every hospital I can think of has got Supers moved in, or worse. If we need this shit in tact, our best luck is probably a warehouse. I trust ‘Choly’s judgment here. He’s known about these things for months.”

Rather than question what Sticks had meant by ‘supers,’ ‘Choly leapt on the chance to reaffirm confidence in the plan.

“I worked for Walden for a year. Even though I may not have worked directly with shipping, I still handled their inbound shipments. I know how to read their directory and catalogue.”

“Exactly. I trust you to have ruled out places that wouldn’t have it.”

“Sorry it’s the location furthest out...”

“Hey, you didn’t build it there.”

‘Choly murmured, then decided to turn on his Pip-Boy radio, and it substituted for further conversation for the next half hour to Billerica.

“All right, buddy. End of the line.”

Sticks unloaded ‘Choly and helped him back to his feet, then rolled the bedding back up. The chemist smoothed at his Vault suit and coat with slow, deliberate strokes. Staring down the green, ‘Choly squared up to tug down some slack in the Vault suit, where his ammo harness had ridden it up. He continued smoothing.

“You know, I used to come here at least once weekly. Sometimes twice, after a hard day at the pharmacy. It was pretty much daily, when I was still at Chelmsford military housing. Remember how we met? In Concord?”

“Yeah, Concord...”

When Sticks ambled on to the clubhouse without another word, ‘Choly followed, still prinking all the while. Angel had zoomed on ahead, already on the porch by that time.

“I was at the malt shop. On lunch break.” He smiled to himself, straining without his cane to match Sticks’s pace. A lyric laced his voice as he somehow kept trying not to laugh. “The one next door to the Hardware Town. You sat down at my booth, and questioned how you hadn’t seen me until recently. I’d only been working at Walden for about a month by then. You asked me, what my name was. What it really was. I don’t remember people pinpointing that I’m Russian, even back then, and there you were, able to guess I’d anglicized my name. --But it was a point of fascination for you, not paranoia. The whole Mindy thing goes back to day one. You told me it’s a nickname for an American name very close to it. You remember?”

He puffed up his chest a bit, in an attempt to match his memory of Sticks’s human voice.

“‘Mindy,’ you said, ‘Mindy, I sure could use a roommate, and it sure seems like you stand to nip a lengthy daily commute. With our combined salaries, we could afford a plush new house in the suburbs. And you look like the sensible sort of fellow that wouldn’t just help with rent. You and I, we could broker a beautiful partnership.’”

“You’re a sentimental sap,” Sticks ribbed, spotting him as he took the clubhouse steps.

“So what if I am! I was a little obtuse to recognize our chemistry for what it was. Hm.” He stopped at the front door. “I suppose, in a way, meeting you is the reason I stopped coming here every single day after work.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

‘Choly looked to him at length, and smiled broadly.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The ghoul grabbed him around the shoulder and shook him for emphasis, then held the door for him.

By the time they’d entered, Angel had already located Bogey and coaxed it from its hiding spot. The brass Handy sped up to them with a canister of water in two tendrils.

“Gentlemen! I won’t allow a single word of news until you’ve hydrated from your long trip. Come! Sit!”

The pair followed it into the dining area, where they took to a table near the center. The Handy used its pincer as a can opener for the two of them, and they accepted their water graciously. Sticks chugged the entire tin while ‘Choly sipped at his own.

“You sound like you’re feeling better, at any rate.” Sticks slouched back in the chair.

“It’s not every day I can remember anything with clarity. To remember something fondly, with that clarity... It’s good medicine, is all.”

“You, eh, seemed a bit under the weather last you came by,” Bogey agreed. “Are things all right?”

“Don’t worry about me. We’ve come back down for you. I’ll tell you, my original plan was to take you to Lowell once I could, but... --Yes, the Devils were taken care of, but robots with as good a nature as yours... Well, they just have no place there.”

Relief rippled from Bogey, and it circled them eagerly as though enthusiastic waitstaff anticipating orders.

“Oh, that is the best news I’ve heard in ages! My servos can breathe. Do go on.”

“Like I said, my plan was to take you to Lowell. There’s a settlement of folks in the Concord suburbs, Sanctuary Hills. I’m confident it’s a perfect fit, for you and them both. There’s a mechanic who can do maintenance on you. And Garvey, he’s incredibly protective of the group. The married couple, they take some getting used to, but I know you’ll warm up to each other. And Mama. Mama Murphy’s the whole reason I came out this way to begin with.”

“Concord is something of a transit from here. The thought that I could be around humans again after all this time, however. It simply has me sparking with delight.”

“We came from Lowell on foot,” Sticks reminded, using a third chair to kick up his feet as he leaned back on his arms behind his head. “We can make it to Sanctuary easy. Especially now that you and we makes four.”

“What kind of timetable do you suppose we’re on, Mister Carey?” Angel asked. It had returned to the main room after unloading the biggest cargo in the locker rooms. “It’s already noon.”

“Forgive my manners. Sticks, Bogey. Bogey, Sticks. Well,” ‘Choly thought, “we should assess what we can afford to bring along with us. It would be a shame to leave anything valuable behind, if there’s not going to be anybody here to make use of it.”

“Surely you don’t mean that you intend to loot the clubhouse,” Bogey sputtered, shrinking back.

‘Choly straightened up in his seat and made himself take another drink of water. The ghoul frowned at him.

“What he means to say is, we’re relocating the amenities--and you. Once we spruce up you n’ Angel, we can best determine who carries what. You’re still going where the things are going. That’s not a problem, is it?”

“I, I suppose not." The brass Handy stuttered. "I do apologize for the scarcity of my pantry. You wouldn’t like more peanuts, would you, Mister Carey?”

“I appreciate it, but if Sticks wants any, he can have mine, too.”

“I’m good. But." The ghoul grunted as he kicked forward to lean on the table, about to get up. "If I could use your kitchen to whip something up, we haven’t eaten since around eight, and I’ve worked up an appetite." He made his way that direction, turning a moment to finger-gun Bogey with a guttural click. "Promise not to make a mess.”

“Would you happen to like a Melancholia before we get started to the robotics shed, Sir?”

He gestured for his cane, which Angel produced.

“Let’s focus on you two first.”

The two Handies escorted him to the robotics shed adjacent to the clubhouse, where he got to working on Angel. Loaded upon the curved forks of the hydraulic robotics lift, the Handy received a fresh tank of fuel. Until that time, ‘Choly hadn’t got a genuine look at the broken metal and melted wiring up close. No wonder Angel had been weaving the whole way to Billerica. Plugging into the workbench with his Pip-Boy to run diagnostics only confirmed the repairs would prove more complicated than he’d thought. His lip soured as he let Angel loose and slouched back to sit on the stool. Angel awaited elucidation.

“Bogey, would I be able to bother you to do something somewhat gruesome for me?" When it watched him, he looked up to it. "Mister Handy ocular lens wiring functions with a certain amount of, how to put it. Each position, it bears a load. Missing one causes circuitry misfires in the others. I can’t just rewire the ocular socket to bypass the missing lens hardware, like I thought I would. I know there were still some parts leftover from when your coworkers, erm. I hate to ask, but would you two go find an in tact ocular lens on the green that I could use to repair Angel?”

“Is that entirely--”

“--Something of a transplant, then! Ha-ha!" Angel encouraged Bogey to come with it on the chore. "Humans have to do this all the time, chap. Don’t you rattle your nuts and bolts over it!”

“I suppose, if it helps.”

‘Choly worked at finishing off his water, and watched the clubhouse out the open roll-up door.

Sure would’ve been nice if Jacob had come out here to help. Things would go much more quickly. But I guess he deserves a break after carrying me all this way. Hopefully he won’t have to carry me home. He bit his lip. "...Or to Nashua.”

“Here we are, then, Sir!”

‘Choly jerked out of his daze, presented a full brass Handy ocular lens.

“Thank you, Bogey," he thanked.

Angel loaded itself back into the robotics bench, while its friend held the component.

“Angel calmed me over the whole notion. It’s still a piece from General Atomics, and a piece from a Mister Handy, at that. And I trust you’ll be delicate with my friend.”

“I’ll port all four colorations, after this repair takes," Angel beamed. "To think--I’ll even be part brass! Bogey, I’m most confident in Mister Carey’s capabilities.”

“I’ll do my best. Just having the part makes me much more likely to succeed.”

“I hope Mister Sticks doesn’t take exception to how long we’ve left him alone in the clubhouse," Bogey fretted. "Should I go to check on him, do you think?”

“I’m sure he’s fine. I’d rather you stayed here. I have to power Angel off to work on it, so it won’t be able to assist me." This didn’t entirely reassure the brass Handy, so he added, "Once I’ve got the firmware repair sequence initiated, you can go check on him.”

Bogey liked that much better.

“Before we start on anything, though. Angel, could I bum a Berry?”

Fueled by the nootropic, the chemist worked on his robot, with his robot’s friend fetching tools and holding up the component to latch into the bench’s series of hydraulic pulleys. The moment the Pip-Boy had executed the bench’s scan, Bogey zipped off like its vitality depended on it.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think Bogey’s more worried about the clubhouse than Sticks.”

The remark soaked in a ways, and he petrified in guilt. Of course Bogey was preoccupied with tending its clubhouse. For the past year, the Billerica Golf Course had been its sole responsibility once the Devils had felled all its fellow robots.

He checked the time and wiped at his face.

Five already. We burned the whole day just getting here and managing this one task. Even if we could head out right now, the sun would set on us before we got to Sanctuary. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and Jacob’s been taking inventory of the clubhouse while I was repairing Angel.

Once Angel came back online, he ran a second series of diagnostics to guarantee the optical lens had installed correctly. The two took a skimming survey of the repair shed, making note of the various tools and materials not too large or heavy to transport, before returning inside.

On the way up the back steps, ‘Choly recalled that Olivia had forbidden the Deenwood robots to let Sticks go unchaperoned. Between that and remembering how the ghoul had rummaged his own secretary the night before, uncertain queasiness overtook him. Angel held the door open for him, and he swallowed in anticipation of something unbecoming.

The door shut behind him, and he found that Sticks had in fact put his time to use. Rather than laze about like he probably would have wished to, on the bar and tables he’d organized the cookware and serveware from the kitchen, the toiletries and clothing from the locker rooms, and even the cleaning supplies from the utility closet. The ghoul sat back at a table, tapping the end of a golf pencil at a clipboard.

“Oh, good. Maybe Bogey can help you two." He snorted hollowly. "Everything go well?”

“It will be some time before I’m sure of my sensors," Angel said, "but I’m certainly in one piece again, thank you.”

“Did you need any tune-ups?" ‘Choly asked Bogey. "I think it’s too late to expect to leave out tonight, but I could take a look at you tomorrow before we leave.”

“I’m right as rain, after all you did for me last week, Sir.”

“Bogey says it’s pretty sure it can carry about 150 pounds," Sticks remarked coolly, looking over everything he’d written down. "Now that it’s been serviced, Angel can take about 200. And I can carry about 100, 125. So uh. About 400 between us? But, gotta to take ‘Choly into consideration... Anything he carries will count toward Angel’s limit... Help me out here.”

“Let’s just call me 125, if that’s what you’re asking. So... what, 325, split between us? What all do you think we need to take to Sanctuary? The Quincy survivors don’t have much beyond what’s been left there.”

Sticks stared at his paper with a difficult brow.

“You rattled off five people earlier, so at least one good set of pans. I’d say at least one good cup, bowl, and plate for each of ’em, too. The clothes shouldn’t weigh too much. Anything they don’t wear, they can scrap for fabric. Bogey wasn’t kidding, either. All I found in the way of food was eleven Nuka-Colas and about ten pounds of expired peanuts.”

“Oh dear, they’re expired!" Bogey fretted. "Are the pops all right?”

“Oh I had a Nuka-Cola, and a bag of peanuts, and was fine," ‘Choly reassured. He refused to let Sticks slight Bogey’s hospitality over things it couldn’t help.

“I do agree that we should take our time being picky here." Sticks set down the clipboard. "If we rush, we might miss something useful.”

“I don’t see any golfing paraphernalia," ‘Choly observed, finally sitting, one table over. "I’d at least like to comb the green for a replacement bag, even if I don’t find more clubs.”

“I didn’t have a chance yet, to scout the sports stock. I can’t expect too much, considering the Devils hit it. I mean, they left next to nothing. I’m surprised you managed to pull together a playable set of clubs, really. They mowed down so many robots. There’s probably not even a full golf cart’s worth of parts left. I mean no disrespect to you, Bogey, or your buddies, but I legit had not directly witnessed what the Devils were capable of until walking up to this clubhouse today.”

“Mm!" Angel snipped in indignation. "Yes, and aren’t you glad they’re GONE now! An absolute scourge!”

‘Choly caught himself almost gawking at Sticks, and he slouched in grief.

“So we’re in agreement that we’re not going to try to rush out of here tonight?”

“We’re here for the night, Mindy.”

“Oh, do let me help inventory it all," Bogey insisted. "They are, in a way, my things, after all.”

“Of course, pal." Sticks shot it a grin. "Don’t sweat a thing.”

By nightfall, they had everything prepared to pack up. Sticks made himself a reconstituted cream stew for dinner while ‘Choly finally relented to a Melancholia for himself. They made use of the locker room to wash their faces and brush their teeth. ‘Choly stripped down to just his Vault suit, and Sticks took off everything but his jeans and tee.

“Are you sure you’re all right with me sleeping on the couch?”

‘Choly could hear Sticks fidgeting in his bedroll in the floor next to him. He made a face in the dark.

“I’d be more all right if you’d get down here with me, if we’re honest.”

“Are you just being like that because you’d rather have the couch?”

“It’s just, we can’t both fit on the couch.”

“I’m not up here because I think I deserve it more or anything.”

“That’s not what this is." Sticks huffed. "You’ve got me liking having a warm body next to me.”

“Would you sleep better if I got down there?”

“Won’t you?”

‘Choly stifled the reflex to object to sleeping in the floor, but he remembered aching all the same waking from the couch last week.

He shoved the bedding off onto Sticks, who sputtered into a chuckle, and got up to help push the bedrolls together. Once they had amassed their pile, Sticks spooned him. They lay there comfortably for some time, but ‘Choly remained awake.

“Could I ask you something, Jacob?”

“Mhh.”

“It’s just, I’m still having trouble with the whole Magnetizer double-dose mess. Everything about that felt... I don’t know. It felt off." He pulled Sticks’s hand around him tighter. "You got something out of that, didn’t you?”

Sticks ran his hand along ‘Choly’s thigh.

“I got you. I guess I can be candid with you, since you’re clearly on board even without me relying on a chem boost. You asked me why I didn’t bank on the effect of Magnetizer with the Gen or the Furriers. I needed to bank on it with you. I couldn’t risk you turning down my proposition. Not until you had a chance to really warm up to the whole idea. You have warmed up to me, haven’t you? Warmed up to us actually giving this ’us’ thing a shot?”

The inside of ‘Choly’s face burned.

“...And the sex before the Unfolding?”

“Icing on the cake.”

“Everything’s a transaction with you. You certainly bought me.”

Sticks pulled him closer, to sleepily nuzzle in the crook of his neck.

“For you, no price is too high.”

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#fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout 4 fanfic #fo4 fanfic #sole survivor #the anatomy of melancholy #melancholy #sticks #ghoul oc #angel #bogey #mister handy

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nightwingshero · 5 years ago

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Hold Me Down Chapter 2

Yasss! Not only did I find the original chapter, but it’s way better than it was before. I’m super happy for this one! @ja-crispea @chazz-anova @faithchel I thought it would be important for you to know what happened with Wren and her ice cream, because let’s be honest, that’s the true ship of this fic. There’s the twist, spoiler alert. Wren x Ice cream.

It was a hot day, hotter than what it had been for the past few days. I huffed as I made my ascent, my ponytail swayed, sweat gathering at the back of my neck and my shoes slapped against the ruined tile as I went. A small plastic bag in one hand, and a large brown bag cradled with my arm. I was eager to enjoy the rest of my day in my apartment, eating ice cream and wallowing in my self-pity before coming up with another score. My pride was still wounded from getting caught. It pissed me off even more when I had found a chip in my throwing knife. Fucking bastard.

I hated grocery shopping only due to the fact that I didn’t like being around people. Dutch often joked to us darkly that we were in the business of people. Just that most of the time, they ended up dead. He wasn’t wrong, and perhaps that was what twisted my stomach so much. Despite him taking me off the street and teaching me everything all he knew, creating who and what I was, I could never come to agree or appreciate his values. I didn’t like killing and cutting my emotions out was nearly impossible. I was his greatest failure but was far from his greatest disappointment. No, she would always hold that place.

I freeze when I come to my floor, eyeing the man leaning against the wall next to my apartment door that was cracked open. He had a hand in his pocket, the other fidgeting with the toothpick in his mouth as he looked at his shoes. I could tell that his dark tan suit was cheap, his longish dark hair swept back just a bit, and I couldn’t help wrinkling my nose in disgust from his demeanor. I could almost guarantee that he was showered in cheap cologne as he used his false confidence to throw his weight around and I crinkled my nose at the sight of his badge on his belt. Cops. My veins turn to ice as I eye it, fear twisting in my gut. I had been so careful. But I square my shoulders, because I know my rights well enough that he needed a warrant.

“Can I help you?” I asked, my voice curious and a bit annoyed. He wasn’t welcome here, not from a long shot, and I wanted him out of my space.

He looked up, his brown eyes sweeping over me before giving me a lopsided smirk. “Well, hey there.” He straightened, shifting his weight. I eyed his stubble and his hair was gelled and combed back half assed. I fought the urge to rip into him, I didn’t need a detective who believed he was nothing by a womanizer sniffing around me. “Wren Blake, right?”

“Who’s asking?” I replied, narrowing my eyes at him.

He just chuckled. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“We?” I asked, glancing in my apartment. A woman stood taking pictures with her cell phone in gloved hands. Her dark hair was braided to the side and shined in the light my living room as she took pictures. His partner, I was sure. Her suit was crisp, the black blouse unbuttoned a bit to show off the golden cross around her neck. It’s fast, the way I take her in, but I was trained to be observant. One of the reasons I had survived as long as I have. But I’m tense as her dark eyes find mine, stern and professional. I narrowed my eyes at her. “Do you have a warrant? Because breaking and entering is illegal, Detective.”

“You bet your sweet ass we have a warrant.” The man cut in, taunting me with a smirk. “We’ve been keeping an eye on you, sweetheart. You think you could charm your way out of this?”

“Pratt.” His partner scolded before giving another glance around the apartment as she lowered the phone. She barley acknowledged the underlining threat as she turned and studied me. “Wren Marie Blake. You are wanted for assault, larceny, false pretenses, and I believe there’s a count against you for arson. There’s more, should I continue?” Her voice is confident, borderline cocky, but I don’t rise to the bait. “Wanted in many cities, at that. Word is you made quite the splash in Los Angeles. You’ve been busy.”

“And you didn’t answer my question.” I shot back, shift my weight to my other foot as I adjust the paper bag full of food. “Do you have a warrant?”

The woman took a step forward, her eyes drilling into mine. “You’ve got one helluva rep sheet, Blake.” She whipped a piece of paper out in front of me and I frowned. “And I’m going to need you to come with us.”

I sigh, glaring at the floor by her feet. Defeated, I sigh. “Fine, but can I at least put my food away? I have ice cream in here.”

I couldn’t tell you how long I waited in the interrogation room, but it felt like hours. The room was only lit by shitty fluorescent lighting that gave the room a more eerily feel. I could almost roll my eyes from the drama of it. I leaned back and crossed my arms. I knew they were doing this on purpose, a tactic I wasn’t exactly unfamiliar with. It didn’t really do any good, all things considered. If anything, it gave me time to prepare for whatever they were going to slap me with and asking for a lawyer was the card up my sleeve if this went south quickly. I was ready for every scenario.

The door opened, bringing my attention from my inner musings and to the four people that had graced me with their presence. Two of them were the same detectives I had seen earlier, Thing One and Thing Two. An older man stood next to them, to the side with big glasses and a weird mustache. I could take a guess that he was the Captain of the precinct, but I wasn’t for sure. The other man was pretty much bald, his hair cut tight against his head, and a goatee that almost had me laughing. His dark skin looked almost pale with the lighting of the room, especially with the cheap blue suit and white oxford shirt underneath. He held himself with an air of authority that put him on a pedestal. I groaned internally. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to get along with this man.

He slammed a file down on the metal table, watching me close for a reaction, and I raised a brow at him. It was apparent he had an air for dramatics. “I’m Special Agent Cameron Burke, this is Captain Whitehorse, and you’ve already had the pleasure of meeting Detective Pratt and Detective Hudson.” Ah. He was a fed. That explained so much. He leaned against the chair in front of me as he stared me down. “You see that? We have a whole file against you. You’re gonna go away for a long time.”

I just continued to stare at him, unimpressed. “Yeah. It’s a file. That was a little unnecessary, don’t you think? Things echo in here.”

He sneered. “You think this is funny? A game?”

“No, on the contrary, I find this rather irritating. What so-called evidence do you have against me?” I replied icily. I didn’t have the patience for this, I wanted the hell out of here. He smirked and flipped open the file, spreading pictures and documents across the table.

I kept my face neutral, still unimpressed, but my insides were panicked. I schooled my expression as I studied the black and white shots of me doing different jobs in different cities. Some in wigs, different outfits, and even one from last night before I had walked into the charity gala. I studied the bank statements from an offshore account before I looked at him. “What’s this supposed to prove? Other than the fact that you’re stalking me for no reason?”

Burke scoffed, a dark glint in his eyes. “We shook down one of your fences, Blake. I’m sure Victor Boshaw rings a bell?” He pushed a photo forward of the gruffy bearded man, and right there next to him, was me.

Victor “Sharky” Boshaw was a fence I had been using for a few years, first meeting in Montana. He was completely erratic an unorthodox, and definitely obnoxious. There wasn’t ever a boring moment with that idiot. But I could always depend on him to move whatever I brought him, and he always gave me a decent price. One of the few people in the market that didn’t screw me over, and as off-the-wall he was, he wasn’t snitch. Sharky always had my back, I knew better. He wouldn’t say a damn thing.

I glared at him. “You’re starting to sound like my father who is telling me its illegal to have friends.”

His face burned as he shoved the chair out of his way, slamming his hands on the table. I jumped as he growled at me. “I’ve had it with your bullshit!” I pursed my lips as his eyes pinned me down. “Look, I’ve been onto you, watching you for a few years now. I know you have ties that you try to hide. I’ve been trying to pin down Dutch and that entire organization.”

I paled immediately, swallowing as I felt my body become weightless. That wasn’t expected. “What?” I breathed out and he smirked.

“That’s right, princess. I know all about that.” He slowly straightened, crossing his arms as he began to circle me. “Taking teenagers off the streets, kids that have no future or have been victims of tragedy. Training them young is key, isn’t it? Teaching how to steal, trick, and to read people. Running cons…but it gets a bit darker than that, doesn’t it? That’s just tip of the iceberg.”

I clench my teeth as flashbacks hit me. The abandoned factory had lighting much like this room. It was always cold in that damn place, and the memory sent a chill down my spine. I hated that building. I hated the way that I had looked up to him as a father figure as he put a knife in my hand, and a gun next. Hand-to-hand combat, knife throwing, shooting…the real operation was far darker than stealing diamonds from a plastered elite.

He grabbed the back of my chair leaning to talk in my ear, the smell of his hot coffee breath fanned across my face. “Training future hitmen and assassins in the underground is definitely something the FBI is interested in taking down. I’ve tracked your every step; I have eyes and ears everywhere. Sounds like a certain someone is pretty upset that their perfect little protégé turned her back on them.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. How the hell had he found out? My palms became sweaty, my heart racing as thoughts flew through my mind. I wanted to scream out of frustration, but I knew I couldn’t. That stupid male detective, Pratt, wouldn’t stop smirking and I was ready to claw his face off. My pride was shot to hell and I was pissed that he had known.

“It would be…such a shame if someone were to leak your position to them, wouldn’t it?”

Pure dread settled in as anger raged through my veins. I clenched my fists tightly. “What’s your point?” I hissed. Burke moved again, walking away with a sickening swagger.

“Well, despite the fact that we’re hunting down Dutch and his posse, it occurs to me that well…it seems a bit pointless to use you to track him down with you being defective.” I flinched at his word choice when he finally turned back to me. “The DA believes he has a bigger issue than what us feds have going on, being less concerned for the bigger picture. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Seed family by now?” I furrowed my brow as I looked at him. “I’ll take that as a yes, then. Perfect. That makes this easier.”

“What do they have to do anything? What’s your point?”

Hudson stepped forward with another file, placing it down like a normal human being. “Joseph Seed is at the head of a major crime family, as you know.” Flipping the file open, she placed four pictures in front of me, pointing as she went. “His brother Jacob is in charge of security and running guns. He’s involved with underground fighting rings and training their personnel. His military background helps him out, obviously.” His beard was gruffer than Sharky’s, but his red hair was to the side, with a tight cut on the side. Scars littered his face, almost like burn marks. She would recognize those anywhere. “Then there’s the little sister. The little angel. We don’t have much detail on her, but as far as I know, she seems to be the one recruiting. She’s also their loan shark, so to speak. She also helps set up deals for this one,” she lands on a picture of a man I’m all too familiar with. “In particular. And he is hard to tie down. John is their lawyer, and he’s a damn good one. Knows how to read people like the back of his hand. He’s known for extortion, blackmail, and a few others. He has a lot of important people in his back pocket, making him practically untouchable. And as scary and dangerous as Jacob is, John is the one to look out for. He is known for cutting into people as punishment and is merciless.”

“Grade A psycho.” Pratt muttered with a twist of his mouth and his eyes cast downward.

“The point is, if I had to choose, he’s going to be the most dangerous to you.” Hudson continued, and I looked up at her confused. They hadn’t known about what happened a couple nights ago, did they?

“What do you mean?” I asked. “What the fuck do I have to be worried about? That sounds like your problem.” I replied with a snarky tone, and Hudson glared at me with her jaw ticking.

“Its your problem,” Finally, the Captain spoke and stepped forward a bit. He tried to seem confident, but there was a weariness that I couldn’t exactly place. “Because you’re going to be working with them.”

I stared at him as I let it sink in, and turned my gaze to the fed. “What?” I whispered harshly.

Burke seemed to be enjoying this a little too much as he grinned like the damn Cheshire cat. “We’re going to use those skills of yours to our advantage, since you’re here with your hands tied and off Dutch’s radar. You’re going in as a double agent for us. You’ll be feeding us intel as you spy on the family and help us take them down by providing incriminating evidence that will put them away for life. Things that even the baby brother can’t weasel out of.”

“Are you fucking insane?” I breathed out, eyes wide. “You want me to be a mole? Do you know how hard it is to get into a family like that? And assuming that, by some fucking miracle, I do…you know what they do to people like that? Do you have any fucking idea what they would do to me? They would kill me after making an example of me, you know they would!” I snapped. Frustration was so close to turning to tears as I shifted in the metal chair, but I quickly blinked them away.

“Then I suggest not getting caught.” Burke sneered. “But you would die for a greater cause, Blake. Maybe that makes you feel better.”

“And if I say no?”

He leaned forward slowly, menacingly, and got in my face. “You’re either with us or against us. You either do this…or you go to prison. From my position, it doesn’t seem like you have much of a choice. But what do you say? You in or are you out?”

I walked quickly in the Georgia night, anger and determination fueling every step. I stopped only to light a cigarette, inhaling and savoring the burn in my lungs. I was nothing but a bundle of nerves. They had told me the family would be at the club tonight, celebrating something, but their intel was good. My mind reeled, trying to come up with a plan that could even work. I hadn’t told Burke that John and I had already met, making this nearly impossible. I contemplated approaching him, admitting what was happening, and then getting the hell out of dodge. But the feds were following my every move now, and there was no guarantee John would let me walk away from that meeting alive.

I was going to do this my way, at my pace, and on my own. I had insisted. A dead informant wasn’t exactly beneficial. They laid down the ground rules with check ins and all that. I wasn’t allowed to leave town, let alone the state. I had to stay where they could keep an eye on me at all times. Something told me that Burke had a control issue.

I looked at the half-smoked cigarette before throwing it on the concrete, smashing it with my heel. My black dress hugged my curves tightly, the plunging neckline just subtle enough to keep the classy look. I kept my hair down again, curled just a bit. I pulled it up a bit, adjusting the top so my boobs weren’t spilling out. I sometimes loved this side of it, dressing up in cute, and even sexy, outfits. Sometimes I absolutely hated it, and tonight was one of those nights. I had planned to take it easy for a while, but after the loving conversation with the officers earlier, I had a change of heart. Apparently.

All it took for the bouncer to let me in was a bat of my lashes and coy smile, which I dropped the second I crossed the threshold. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but a dark lounge wasn’t it. Not that I complained at all, considering that I’ve had a rough day so far. I took the dimmed lights, the neon accents creating an ambiance of something I couldn’t quite describe. But it was as if I had stepping into a completely different world. I could get lost to the music playing through the speakers as a group of people danced.

Making my way to the bar, I motioned for the bartender as I folded my hands in my lap with my clutch. I smile brightly at the younger man. Blonde, curly hair with bright eyes, and maybe just a little too eager. I lean forward just a tad, a small smile on my lips. “Martini, dry with extra olives.”

He gave a quick nod before hastily getting everything together, but I paid him no mind. I searched, my eyes scanning face after face, desperate for the target. Detective Hudson had sworn they would be here, no doubt in her mind. Well, good for her. That didn’t ease my doubt one bit. Then again that she had to say could, I felt like I was being fed to the wolves. I hated every bit of it. The bartender returned, placing the glass down gently. I knew he was waiting to engage, but I just grabbed it and kept my attention on the crowd. I wasn’t here for social hour. I was here to watch. And so, I did, taking a sip of my drink.

I spot the sister first. A perfect white short dress with sleeves, her hair falling in waves and her ankles are crossed, ever the lady. Then the rest came into view, my heart pounding hard. A red-haired woman sat with her, holding her hand. They had mentioned that there were significant others, spouses, involved, and as I find Joseph Seed, I see his blonde wife with him. His hair is long, pulled back into a bun, and even though it was late at night and inside, he wore yellow aviators. Just like he had in the photo.

“I believe,” a voice called from behind me, and I freeze for only a second as he placed his hand on the bar behind me, his breath ruffling my hair as spoke in my ear. “I told you the next time I saw you, I would kill you.”

I take another drink as he moved from me, circling around with his eyes on me before taking the seat next to mine. Finally, I found my tongue and spine. “I think it was ‘if I catch you doing this again, I won’t hesitate to kill you’. If I remember correctly.”

John gave a charming smile, but it didn’t meet his eyes. “You think you’re clever.”

“No, I know I’m clever.” I scoffed, taking another sip, my eyes falling on his family again. I finally see his other brother, Jacob, standing with his arms crossed in his grey shirt.

“How cute.” he taunted. I opened my mouth to say something, but that’s when I see her. It takes all the years of my training to maintain my composure, because there was nothing I would love to do than to let the glass in my hand shatter against the floor. Rowan.

She looked the same, just a few more years older. Her dark hair was still long and wavy, her bright smile hadn’t changed a bit. It’s a shock that I can’t really shake, because she’s there, after all these years. I had thought she died, someone finally hunted her down. That’s what Dutch led us, me, to believe. To prove and show what happened if you turned your back on the family. And yet, here we both were, survivors of the dark world Dutch had brought us in.

I feel a hand on my knee the second her dark eyes catch mine and move away, not even hesitating as she looked around the room and the hand squeezed, bringing my attention to the company I was keeping. “I warned you about coming near my family.”

I turned to him with a glare. “You threatened me with your family’s name, and if I’m being honest here, I’m getting tired of it, Johnny.” I sneered, shoving his hand off my knee. I grabbed the toothpick out of my drink, angrily eating the olives. I glanced over again, but she continued to laugh in that dark green dress, like she hadn’t seen a blast from her past. As if she didn’t know me at all. It stung, but I couldn’t tell if her noticing me was a good thing or not. She would blow the whole thing before I could even get started.

John’s mouth twisted and I felt my stomach sink in dread at the realization of what I had just done. Rowan was just one issue, but I completely forgot the one sitting with me. “Better be careful, sweetheart. You’re playing with fire and you’ve been warned already.”

“And you owe me a new knife, Johnny. They are custom made and expensive, and due to your carelessness, the one has a chip in it. Where shall I send the bill?”

“You’re not as charming as you think you are, darling.” He leaned in with a sneer, his eyes promising danger. “And my patience is running very thin with it.”

I leaned forward, my nose crinkling unimpressed. “And you’re not nearly as scary as you believe you are. Now, if you don’t mind, run and get the big bad brother. I’m above dealing with the baby, Johnny Boy.”

His hand flew back to my leg, squeezing and digging his fingers hard into the meat of my leg. My back straightened as I clenched my teeth from the mix of pain and something else. I kept my composure the best I could, but I never hated John Seed more than I did in this moment. Pure loathing like venom on my tongue for the way he always found the upper hand.

“Would you like another, miss?”

I turned to see the young bartender smiling at me, his eyes wandering down before meeting my eyes again. “No.” John replied, throwing the guy a charming smile. “She’s just leaving.”

“Cool. Well, it’s on the house.” He said, throwing me a wink. I gave a fake smile as he walked away.

“It most certainly is not on the house.” John snapped. “I’m not paying for your drink.”

I raised a brow at him. “Oh, the big-time lawyer owns a bar and can’t afford to buy a lady a drink?”

“It’s a lounge.” He growled at me. “And you are not a lady.”

I smirked, my hand finding its way back into my clutch. Grabbing what I was looking for, I quickly press the tip of my knife against his inner thigh. He stiffened, and my burgundy lips curved even more. “Now, I think that you should know a few things about me, darling.” I leaned, my lips finding his ear to whisper. “I don’t like it when men feel the need to put their hands on me without my permission, no matter how big they think they are. And when they do, well…I’m very skilled with knives, John. I’m sure you can use your imagination. Now, if you don’t mind.” He slowly removed his hand, and as he did, I shifted, rising from the barstool. “Thank you. You’re such a dear. Here’s to hoping our next meeting is as lovely as this one.”

“You should hope we don’t meet again, sweetheart. Because I’m not going to be so kind anymore.” He breathed out, his voice ice. I placed a kiss on his cheek.

“If this was you call being kind, then I look forward to seeing the big bad wolf. I don’t mind playing rough. Just make sure you can take it as well as you can dish it.”

I move away before he can register and react. My heart was hammering in my chest, shocked by what I had just done and cursing myself. I was supposed to get in and win them over, and instead I was antagonizing the youngest and one of the most crucial members of that damn family. The one that I needed to watch out for even before any of this happened. And no one knew. I made the decision to keep it to myself out of fear. If they thought I couldn’t do it, I would’ve been done for. I needed to play along until I could find a way out of this damn mess.

I took a turn, a block away from the lounge, and I started to relax. The fear of him coming after me melted away with each step. Passing a dark alley, I slowed to light a cigarette for good measure. A hand slapped my cigarette and lighter out of my hands, and another grabbed a fistful of hair, painfully yanking it back. Fear pierced its way into my chest as I tried to fight back, a black bag being shoved over my head. I screamed, punching and kicking blindly. I suddenly felt sharp pain at the base of my neck, and I dropped to the ground.

`The bag got yanked off harshly, and I squinted from the bright light. It took me a moment to adjust, and then I was finally able to take in my surroundings. I was in a mansion, that was obvious. Marble floors with weird ass designs that rich people swore made them look classier. That was a fucking lie. There was a double staircase wrapping around the room, and directly across from me, the double doors were open and gave me a good view of their pool area at night as thin white curtains danced in the evening breeze.

I go to move, but find my wrists and ankles were duct taped to the chair I was sitting in. It was then that I finally took account for the bulky men in black, standing around quietly with their hands clasped behind their backs. “Well, look who decided to wake up!” A loud and obnoxious southern voice pierced my eardrums, making me cringe. An overweight older gentleman began to make his way towards me, a cane in his hand. He wore just a polo and tan dress pants. I made a face at his sleazy appearance, the slicked back hair and stupid mustache. “It’s about damn time. We have some business to discuss.”

I sighed heavily, a sneer on my lips. “Oh, you got to be kidding me.” He stopped his advance for a moment, glaring at me. But I didn’t care. Tossing all caution to the wind, my anger got the best of me. “I’m not in the fucking mood for any of you. Do you know what kind of day I’ve had? Seriously? What is this? Some backwash hillbilly mob family from the fucking Georgia swamps? Is this what I’ve come to? Which one is the jackass?” I snapped.

His mouth twisted, and he moved faster than I had given him credit for. The sting of my face and the blood that filled my mouth was the only way I registered him hitting me. I spit out blood on his floor, some running down my chin as I slowly gave him a death glare. “Now I have your attention. Damn women.” He turned to the side, eyeing an older blonde in a red dress. She pursed her lips as she held her head high. “None of you listen. It’s why they should never do a damn man’s job. But here we are.”

“Who the fuck are you and what do you want?” I growled.

He scoffed. “Hurk Drubman Sr. I own one of the biggest marinas in Atlanta, selling sailboats. Also give those damn Seeds a run for their money when it comes to smuggling and gun dealing.”

“Haven’t been giving them much of a run, darlin’.” The blonde mocked with a smirk. He muttered something before turning back to me.

“I heard that you’re gonna help those damn feds take ‘em down. That true?”

I just stared at him, my face twisting in shock at the absurdity of the situation. “Where the fuck did you hear that?” I asked, completely exasperated.

“John fucking Seed isn’t the one with ties in the fucking police department.” I frowned, but he didn’t give me time to process that. “Either way, they’re undermining my slave trade, beating my gun deals—”

“Your…what?” I asked, hoping I heard him wrong.

His sick smile grew wider. “Slave trade, girlie. Sex trafficking. Its what’s making most of my money with that damn family taking the most of our business. And if you’re a good girl, you won’t have to worry about it.” A shiver went down my spine as I tried to wriggle in my restraints, but he paid me no mind. “Now, I know you cut a deal with those pigs downtown, but don’t worry about that. What I need you to do, is spy on them and get me information that will help my business grow.”

I sighed, giving up and glaring at the old man. “Are you serious? You expect me to play the Seeds and the feds? What the hell is wrong with this city?” I breathed out. “You’re insane. I would be lucky to even get close—”

“You got pretty close tonight.” He snarked back. “Left a pretty little mark on little Johnny’s check, my men say.” He walked, a cane in his hand as he limped forward. “We can do this the easy way, which is you agreeing and being a good little girl, doing what she’s told. Or, we could do this the hard way. I torture you, force you to agree, and if that doesn’t work…well, I could sell you or kill you. We could flip on it, make it a surprise.”

I forced the bile back down as my stomach twisted. I glanced to my right, catching the eyes of the old woman. She held a frown, glaring at her husband. When her eyes caught mine, she gave the slightest smile and nod, almost reassuring. “Well, let’s assume I say yes and do this, what do you plan on doing? You have the feds on my ass, and if your men aren’t totally blind, they would know that John and I aren’t exactly friendly. I don’t know what you expect.”

“I would like you to learn the ins and outs. Nothing too different than what you’re already doin’. Except you’re gonna give the information to me, frame the family, and take them down from the inside, while I get all their business.”

I made a face. “Oh, you’ve been watching way too many movies. There’s no fucking way—”

The end of the cane was pressed against my throat, cutting me off completely as I gagged. “There is a fucking way.” He leaned in closer, the cane pressing harder. I fidgeted, trying to catch my breath. “And I know something the feds don’t. That tonight hasn’t been your first run-in with John. They know you went to that stupid charity gala, but they have no clue what happened. Johnny can be handsy, can’t he? Especially when he finds out you’re workin’ a job on his turf.”

Stepping back, he finally removed the cane. I took a greedy breath of air. “Then you know that it’s going to be impossible. He hates me. And I would take him ignoring my personal space over this. He isn’t the one that has kidnapped me and tied me to a goddamn chair.”

Hurk laughed, with a shake of his head. “Not yet, he hasn’t. You think is bad, sweetheart? Oh, you’re not that smart, are you? Johnny would have you in the dark with knives digging into that pretty skin of yours, and he would be more than happy to do the honors. And he’s done it to men who have done less than what you’ve done already. People don’t get a second warning from the Seeds. You have, and I’m goin’ to use that.”

I rolled my eyes. “The fact is that I’m on some seriously thin ice with that man, and I won’t be able to get away with whatever it is you have planned. He won’t let me anywhere near that family.”

“You’re going to do this, and I don’t care what you have to do to do it. Become one of his coked-up buddies he keeps around, for all I fucking care. If you value your life, you’ll do this.”

Silence fell between us as I stared at the shiny floor. I weighed my options, not that I had many, and I couldn’t find a way to get out of this one. It just went from bad to worse in less than 24 hours, and I couldn’t believe the amount of trouble I had brought upon myself from going to one damn gala. Swallowing my pride was bitter, but I did it anyway. “Fine.” I bit out. “Whatever. I’ll help you steal the business and take the family down.”

A twist of guilt settled in the pit of my stomach as Hurk smiled. “Perfect! I’m so glad we could see eye to eye. I look forward to our business relationship, Blake.”

“And what do I get out of this?” I asked with a roll of my eyes.

“Hmm…well, how about you don’t go to prison? That you’ll get to leave Atlanta? I think that seems fair, don’t you?”

No. “Sure.” Not in the fucking slightest.

He gave a nod to his men. “Get her out of here. I’m done.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but only a strangled shout of surprise escaped at the black bag returned, blinding me once more.

They had dragged me out of the damn house and thrown me into a van, fully restrained. I had no idea where we were going, but it wasn’t a smooth ride. It’s when we stop do they finally pull the damn bag off and cut my restraints. The bulky man grabbed me while the other slide the door open with more force than necessary, and the shoved me out before speeding away.

I hit the concrete hard, my palms and knees immediately getting scraped. I grunted in frustration as I sat on the sidewalk, yanking my heels off. My body was exhausted, muscles screaming at me with bruises forming on my leg. There were angry red lines on my wrists, complimenting the tattoos on my wrists. I wanted nothing more than a cigarette, and I cursed, realizing that they never returned the clutch purse I had. Anger swelled in me and I fought to keep the tears at bay. I had smoked more in the last few days than I had in months. I had quit, but the new stress was threatening to give me the habit again, and I was more than pissed that I couldn’t indulge in this moment.

Snatching my feels off the ground, I stood and walked into my apartment building. I longed for my bed, and I was set and determined to do absolutely nothing tomorrow. I could practically hear my ice cream calling for me.

The stairs were harder to take than they were this morning, and I hated every step I took with a fiery passion. This night, this whole day, had been nothing but a clusterfuck, and I didn’t know how all this shit could happen in 24 hours. Arrested, manhandled twice, threatening and being threatened, finding a new way to piss off the youngest Seed, being kidnapped, hit, blackmailed…what the fuck could happen next? I was done with the bullshit. I could put a smile on my face, figuratively, and agree to help Drubman so I could get the fuck out of there. I could off both parties while I made arrangements. I was getting the fuck out of dodge while I could, while I was still breathing.

Coming to the floor, it was like déjà vu. I froze seeing the door to my apartment wide open and dread settled heavily in the pit of my stomach. I rushed forward, my hands resting on the doorframe as I looked around.

The door had clearly been kicked in, the frame busted and a small dent in the cheap door. I swallowed as I took in the busted coffee table, torn up and flipped couch and chair. My TV was on and flickering, the screen cracked as the static filled the room. I stepped in cautiously, watching my bare feet so not to step in the broken glass of the table and some of my vases. Water, rocks, and flowers littered the floor. Down the hall, I could see my bed flipped on its side with the bedding ripped to shreds, the feathers from the comforter and pillows blanketing everything like freshly fallen snow.

The kitchen wasn’t spared, with cabinets thrown open, and broken glasses and plate along the counter tops and floor. My fridge and freezer were left ajar as food had been strewn, almost shoved, from its place. My face twisted and I clenched my fist at the site of melted ice cream on the tile. The wall against my counter bar held my busted landline and a note with my knives embedded in the wall to hang it. The same knives that was in my clutch.

I stepped forward and read the note, each line fueling my anger more and more. A threat, clear as day, from my most humble hosts this evening. My hand fell to my side as I look around hopelessly. It was a message within itself. The note was just a cherry on top. Whatever the Drubmans had planned, they were serious, and they wanted to make it clear. I did get some relief when I spotted my clutch on my small kitchen table, my cell phone falling out.

Grabbing it with shaking hands, I send a quick text, trying hard to focus on the keyboard. We need to meet asap. Tomorrow afternoon good?

I only waited a few more minutes before I received the confirmation text, and I fall to my knees, clinging the phone to my chest as I run my hand through my hair. The shaking becomes worse and I let out a sob as the tears break through. I can’t help the panic attack, there’s nothing for me cling to in order to keep me from the spiral. It’s a mixture of rage, helplessness, and stress. I didn’t ask for any of this. I wanted a better life, and I tried to stay in my lane the best I could, keeping my head down. And in less than a week, I had the threat of a rival crime family and the feds breathing down my neck. And worst of all, the potential of Dutch finding me was too close for comfort. Everything I had built, all the work I had done over the years, would come tumbling down around me. And I didn’t even have the chance to process of Rowan being alive. I needed to leave, get out of Atlanta as fast as I could, and never look back.

#deputy wren blake #wren blake #john seed #wren x john #ice cream #wren x ice cream #mafia au #Far Cry 5 #far cry fic #my writing

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xpouii · 5 years ago

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Tentacletober Day 12

Yes it’s late! Yes I’m deeply ashamed! Yes it’s a sequel to day 9!

Prompt: “Get those things away from me.”

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Characters: Roman, Logan, Virgil, Remus

Warnings/Tags: SFW, drug use, prescription pills, eating disorder, binging/purging, self-harm, bad bad bad parents, psychological abuse, emotional abuse, swearing, blood, unsympathetic Deceit, unsympathetic Patton, mild Prinxiety

Please be careful when reading this if you see any of your triggers above!

Roman rushed down the stairs, taking two at a time, “Roman, your pill!”

“Mom I’m gonna be late!” Roman called, but she appeared in front of him.

He opened his mouth obediently and she dropped the pill in, handing him a bottle of water. “Drink the water and you have to wait forty-five minutes. Don’t forget baby.”

“I’ll set a timer,” Roman said, swallowing the pill with a swig of water. He let her kiss his cheek then threw his backpack over his shoulder, jogging outside and jumping into his car. He checked his reflection in the rearview mirror before pulling out and driving to school.

He sang along with the radio and guzzled the bottle of water; it settled in his stomach like a weight, but his mother’s words ran through his head as he added a timer into his phone, sighing. Don’t forget baby.

The school was big, probably not big enough for as many students as it served, but gargantuan anyway. He parked in the band lot and took a moment to go over his hair and face again before he slid out of his car, shouldering his bag. Logan was leaning against the building with his massive cello case stood beside him. Roman smiled, “Hey! Director late?”

Logan rolled his eyes, “Always. I refuse to haul this thing to first period. Last time I did Mrs. Miller kept rolling her eyes at me and I couldn’t concentrate. It’s like I could hear her doing it.”

“Maybe you should smoke a little more before school, Logan, if you’re hearing people’s eyes.”

Logan sighed, “On that note, did your mom make you swallow the Adderall today?”

“Yes but I palmed last night,” Roman said, taking a tiny folded square of paper out of his pocket and slipping it into Logan’s hand.

Logan smiled and took the pill quickly, swallowing it dry and pocketing the paper. “Thanks I’ll leave a baggy in your car during lunch.”

“You’re my hero!” Roman sing-songed as he leaned in, kissing Logan’s cheek. “Have you seen our shrinking Violet this morning?”

“He’s in his car pretending not to cut his lip,” Logan said, nodding toward Virgil’s black truck.

Roman sighed, “Well, I’m not going to miss breakfast for him! He can self-harm on his own time! I’ll be right back.”

Logan muttered a reply as he spotted the director coming to unlock the band room. Roman trotted off and let himself into Virgil’s truck, “Whoa!”

“Hey sexy,” Roman purred. “Nice lip ring.”

Virgil grabbed the razor blade and turned beet red, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. “Thanks.”

Roman leaned over and touched his face, “Bad morning?”

“Not really,” Virgil said, letting out a little moan when Roman kissed him. When he broke the kiss, Roman had blood on his lips. “You wanna smoke?”

Roman licked his lips with a wink, “I’m all out until lunch, but after we eat I’m down. You wanna head to the cafeteria and get some breakfast?”

Virgil rolled his eyes, leaning in for another kiss that Roman returned eagerly. It wasn’t sexual, or even romantic, not really. They’d been making out since they were young and started practicing kissing. Now it was a platonic habit that gave Roman the attention he craved and Virgil the love and affection he needed. It was also Roman’s way of letting Virgil know he wasn’t bothered by his cutting, his emotional scars or his physical ones. When they broke the kiss, Virgil’s lip had stopped bleeding, and it was red for an entirely different reason. “Sure, what time is it?”

Roman checked the timer, “Fifteen minutes—um, I mean it’s seven ten.”

Virgil nodded, pulling down his visor and checking his chin; Roman could see the concealer and foundation he was wearing. He reached over to blend it a bit with his fingers. “I thought I’d try something.”

“Right,” Roman said. “Need help?”

“Um… actually, yeah. My dad took that eyeliner you gave me.”

Roman sighed, “I figured. Don’t worry baby, I got you.”

Virgil smiled, unzipping his hoodie and shrugging it off, “Thanks.”

Roman opened his bag and waved his hand at Virgil, “Nonsense. It’s what friends do, and besides, I’ll look better when my friends look better. If I can just convince Logan to do something about those glasses. He hasn’t updated his style since third grade.”

Virgil smiled, holding still as Roman began to work on his face, blending and balancing until Virgil looked less like he was wearing makeup and more like he’d started a decent new acne routine. Roman took out his eyeliner and applied it thick just under Virgil’s eye, then licked his thumb and spread it down and outward, doing a prettier, more put together version of what Virgil had done himself the night before. Virgil watched Roman, blushing at the cute face Roman made when concentrating. “How do I look?”

“Perfection, baby, of course,” Roman said, wiping his hands off on a discarded fast food napkin from Virgil’s floorboard. “I don’t do bad work, but you look good even for my standards.”

Virgil opened his mouth, but Roman’s timer went off, “Oh, breakfast time then?”

“Yes please!” Roman said, putting away his things and jumping out of the truck.

Logan fell in step with them once they reached the cafeteria, “Morning, Virgil.”

“Hey, L. Finally get that cello stored?” Virgil greeted.

Logan sighed, but he was perky, taking long, quick strides that made Roman and Virgil struggle to keep up, “I swear I’m more organized than any of the adults in this school district. I like the eyes. Why didn’t you wear it at the concert?”

“Shitty parents,” Virgil said. “Thanks though.”

“What do you guys want? My treat!” Roman said.

“Already ate,” Logan said.

“Oatmeal,” Virgil said. “And a bottle of water.”

“Two oatmeals, please, garçon!” Roman called to a rather unamused cafeteria worker.

When lunchtime rolled around, Virgil and Roman ducked out to his truck, sitting low to hide from the security guard as Roman lit the joint that he’d gotten from Logan. “So I wanted to tell you something,” Virgil said. “Something kind of… intense.”

Virgil leaned in, and Roman took a hit, “Is this about what happened to your chin?”

“No,” Virgil said briskly, “Last night afterward, I was trying to sleep and I kept hearing my name, you know? Like somebody was whispering it.”

Roman raised an eyebrow, holding out the joint for Virgil to take, “Like a ghost?”

Virgil took a drag and held it, then coughed lightly, “Well I saw what I thought was like a snake or something, go under my bed? And I didn’t want to scream or anything so I like… crawl over and look under the bed right?”

Roman gasped and grabbed Virgil’s arm, “You didn’t!”

“I did! Suddenly, something reaches out and drags me under the bed.”

“What?” Roman let go of Virgil’s arm, “Wait seriously?”

Virgil nodded, “I was like… in this cave, with this… guy? But he’s a monster. He has like um… what do you call them… the octopus things? Tentacles! Yeah, but he says his name is Remus and then he took me to Mrs. Miller’s. We came out from under her bed. He scared the shit out of her. I think I was out with him until like four in the morning.”

Roman fiddled with his hair for a moment, trying to ignore the gnawing in his stomach. “Virgil, you know I love a dream story as much as the next gay, but-“

“It wasn’t a dream,” Virgil said. “That’s the thing! This morning I got out of bed and I reached under, and it was cold… like… I was reaching into a cave. It wasn’t carpet. I don’t know how to explain it. Anyway, it felt like some kind of guardian angel, you know? Like… he was sent to help or something. He said monsters watch people because we’re weird.”

”Well you’re weird he’s right about that,” Roman muttered, then laughed when Virgil shoved him playfully. “Ok ok, I’ll believe you. You met a monster and he thinks you’re weird.” He handed the joint to Virgil then took his face in his hands, “If that helps you, baby, then I’m really happy for you.”

Virgil took a hit and Roman kissed him.

They got to band just as the bell rang, smelling like Axe body spray and guzzled mouthwash, grinning and snickering. The director let them sit before he stood up to start his announcements. Logan was scribbling notes as the director spoke, his gaze laser focused. Roman patted his knee when he sat, and Logan gave a tiny nod in response. “Have a good lunch?”

Virgil chuckled, “It was delicious.”

“And decently low in calories,” Roman said. “But I’m fucking starving now. Do you have anything to eat?”

Logan kicked his backpack, “I got you both a Snickers.”

“You can have mine,” Virgil said. “I’m actually not super hungry.”

“You’re not getting paranoid are you?” Roman muttered. “Just relax baby nobody can tell.”

Logan raised an eyebrow but said nothing as Roman rummaged the candy from his bag. “I can tell,” Virgil muttered.

Roman downed the first candy bar without speaking, but he ate the next one slowly, listening to the director lecturing the percussion section, savoring it as much as he’d let himself before his hand shot up, “I need to go to the bathroom, please.”

“Mr. Prince, you just came from lunch, did you not? Why didn’t you go then?”

Roman shoved his small bottle of mouthwash into his pocket as he shrugged, “I guess I didn’t need to go then.”

The director gave him a withering look, then waved him off toward the door. Roman didn’t waste any time slipping out of the classroom and power walking to the bathroom. He checked for feet in any stalls and took the one furthest from the door. He wasted no time layering toilet paper in the toilet, then he put his hands on his hips, bending at the waste and purging himself of the food—and subsequent guilt—he’d just swallowed. It was easy now, quick, requiring no fingers or ceremony. He flushed the toilet and went straight to the sink, rinsing his mouth out and using the mouthwash, giving himself a winning stage smile in the mirror. He washed his hands and hurried back to class with a head full of adrenaline.

Roman pulled into his driveway and jumped out of the car, grabbing his backpack and a bag from the convenience store a few miles outside of town. He kept his head down as he made a straight line for his apartment, letting himself in and locking the door behind him. “Mom?” he called, pausing for an answer. “Mom I’m home!”

She was still at work. He dropped his backpack by the door and went straight to the bathroom. He locked himself in. Roman opened the first carton of ice cream and ate his way through the entire quart in minutes. He was desperate to finish. An interruption at that point would be hell. He set the carton aside. Assuming the obscenely graceful pose, bent at the waist, hands on his hips, he let go. The kick of adrenaline and pleasure shot through him with every heave. Then he was empty again, free and spinning and the world slowed down around him. His eyes and nose were running, and he blinked the tears away as he went to the sink, splashing water on his face.

Roman rinsed his mouth out and waited until the adrenaline slowed, and the hunger returned, his stomach twisting and begging. He went to the second carton and opened it, eating a little slower, savoring the feeling, but not the taste. By the third carton, he was too far gone to taste anything anymore, caught up in the cycle of full and empty, sensation and mental distraction. It was everything to him, a ritual he did every night he wasn’t forced out of the house to a rehearsal or a reading or sitting for pictures to update his portfolio. Roman opened the fourth carton, now just sweet liquid, but that made it easier to get down faster, and he swallowed away all of the thoughts left in his head, letting them settle in his stomach and weigh him down before he brought them back up again and sent them away down the pipes. He returned to the sink, rinsing with water and then swishing the fluoride mouthwash, wincing as it stung in the sores along his tongue. He spat and smiled at himself, taking a careful look at his teeth. The front ones had gone almost transparent at the bottom, and his mother had already scheduled him for a dental visit. She’d read on the internet that a dentist could get a special mouth guard to keep the stomach acid from eroding enamel—and you’ll never be in movies with bad teeth, sweetheart. You’re not talented enough to get on without your looks. Mommy loves you.

Roman splashed his face with water and ran it through his hair, ignoring just how much hair came out in his hands as he did. He shook it off into the trash and gathered every bit of evidence, hurrying it out and down to the large dumpsters behind his building. He dumped the cartons and spoon and bags and shame where his mother wouldn’t find evidence of his excess. She supported the purging, but her disappointed stares anytime Roman took in more than one or two hundred calories at a time made his face burn and his stomach flip—and not in the good way. He got in and stretched out on the couch for a nap.

Roman was laying awake in bed staring at the ceiling and watching the dancing shadows of cars passing outside. He was thinking about Virgil, what he’d said, and how he’d looked in his makeup, and Roman couldn’t help the smile that played on his lips.

“Hi Roman.”

Roman screamed and jumped to his feet, standing on his bed. A man had popped up beside his bed. Tentacles were flicking lazily around him, “What the fuck?”

“Roman!” his mother yelled from her room. “I told you to go to sleep!”

Roman looked at Remus for a moment, then called, “Sorry mom I fell out of bed!”

Remus grinned, sitting on the edge of the bed; Roman scooted further away, avoiding the tentacles. “Get those things away from me!” he whispered harshly.

“What, my tentacles? They have minds of their own sometimes. Don’t worry. They’re not slimy or anything.”

“Am I hallucinating?”

“Good question. What do you see?”

Roman blinked, “A creep with tentacles sitting on my bed?”

“Nope!” Remus said happily. “You’re perfectly… well… not hallucinating.”

“So Virgil isn’t crazy either,” Roman breathed. “You’re…”

“Remus, yes. Virgil said you might need a friend. He’s in love with you.”

Roman blushed, slowly moving closer to sit on the edge of his bed, “So… you’re here to do what?”

Remus shrugged, “We could go break into a gas station and steal some ice cream but I’m not sure it’s the best thing for you… we could go draw penises on Logan’s window while he’s trying to study.”

“I’ll get my jacket.”

#tentacletober #not safe for sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #fanfiction

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skybiome · 5 years ago

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knock me off my high horse

this got much darker than i expected it to

fic for @mine-sara-sp‘s shadow people au

this is a continuation of cavalier

warnings: non-physical torture, forced sleep deprivation, non-graphic mentions of injuries, brief mentions of dislocated bones, puzzler commits literal war crimes

if there's anything else i should add to the warnings, please tell me

The first thing Wels notices is how much pain he’s in. His ribs feel like they’re on fire and his thoughts are cloudy, like he’s having to fight through a layer of thick cotton to even perceive his surroundings.

Not that there’s much to perceive in the first place. The room is incredibly small and Wels is distantly glad that he’s not claustrophobic. All four walls are made of stone bricks. The floor is as well, but it must be made of slabs set on the bottom half of the block, as there’s a gap between the floor and the walls. At the top of the 3 by 3 room, there’s a single block gap that reveals the sky above that’s led up to by inverted stairs.

Wels manages to pull himself into a sitting position despite the protests from his ribs.

“Hello?” The knight’s voice echoed up and out of the chamber. After a moment, he heard someone moving near the opening. Cavalier’s head peeked over the edge of the gap and Wels suddenly remembered why he’s in this pit. Well, he didn’t know why but he knew how.

Cavalier had attacked him at his own base and killed him. Before Wels had a chance to know what had happened, Cavalier had attacked him again at the foot of Wels’s bed and knocked him out.

The knight had woken up several on the journey to wherever Cavalier was taking him and every time Wels had escaped the clutches of his shadow, he was quickly overpowered and knocked out again. The only time Wels really remember waking up was when the Convex’s shadows had tried to fight Cavalier.

Keloid and Avarice had only lost because they kept mistaking Cavalier for Paladin. And Wels knows that they would never hurt their treasure if at all possible.

The summoner squints up at their shadow. Cavalier looks away from Wels for a moment to glance at something in the distance. The shadow looks back at Wels for a moment before dropping something into the room and disappearing from view.

The knight watches the item land on the stone brick floor and carefully scoots over to it. It’s a golden carrot. Wels takes the gilded vegetable and hides it in his inventory, purposely ignoring the way his stomach growls at the sight of it. Eating it won’t fill his hunger enough to let him heal. It’s best to keep it until he gets a chance to heal.

There’re more footsteps from above and Puzzler’s face and wings cover the sky above. Wels has never met the shadow personally, but he’s heard tales of him. Wels forces himself to sit up straighter. He ignores the protests of his ribs.

The winged shadow smiles at the sight of Wels being trapped and turns to look at someone beside him, presumably Cavalier.

“Congratulations. You finished your first mission.” Puzzler glances back at Wels for a moment. “He’s a bit more roughed up than I would have liked, but he’s still usable.” Wels watches the shadow’s head move up and down, giving Cavalier a once over.

“You’re a bit banged up yourself.”

“There were some. . . complications. . . while I was transporting Wels. I was attacked by two shadows. I don’t know whose they were, but they were neon blue instead of yellow and they almost seemed mutated, or something. I dispatch them though.”

Wels watches Puzzler’s eyes go wide. And a moment later, a smile creeps onto his face.

“Well well well,” The shadow turns to look at Wels. “things are going even better than planned. The vex and Paladin are gone. That means no one is going to come looking for you. So let’s make a deal, Wels. Your allegiance for power. This is a one time deal.”

Wels is not an idiot, and he knows a one-sided supernatural deal when he sees one. He glares up at the shadow.

“What do you think I am? A fool?”

Puzzler tuts at Wels. “Well, now you’re just making things more difficult. I didn’t want to have to do this, but the deal’s changed. Now, it’s your allegiance for your freedom.” He doesn’t seem upset about changing his offer in the slightest.

The shadow looks in a different direction than when he was speaking to Cavalier.

“Tripwire, turn it on.”

The knight hears a lever being flipped and the stone brick walls around him and the floor beneath him begin moving.

After a moment, he realizes the purpose of it all. Even without a pickaxe, Wels could break his way out of a normal prison eventually, but with the moving walls and floor, the knight truly was entirely trapped

Over the din, Wels barely hears Puzzler say, “Let’s see if you’ve changed your mind by tomorrow.”

He watches Puzzler fly away through the small gap. Once he’s certain that the shadow is gone, Wels pulls out the golden carrot and gnaws on the end of it, trying to make it last as long as possible. He’s going to be waiting a while.

He watches the sun pass over the top of his trap. As a sunbeam illuminates the shifting stone floor, Wels remembers where he’s seen a trap like this before.

Xisuma had built one identical to it for the To Kill A Tango competition. The admin had only trapped Tango for around ten minutes before releasing his friend.

Wels had gotten sick of the noise of pistons firing hours ago. He slowly watches the square of sunlight crawl across the floor and up the wall, eventually disappearing as the sky above turns from blue to lilac to navy to speckled black.

The knight carefully moves away from the wall to sit directly below the opening. He looks at the stars above and settles in for a long night of staring at nothing.

---

The next morning, the machine is turned off and Puzzler lands on the lip of Wels prison. He stares down at the knight.

“Well, are you going to take me up on my generous offer yet?”

Wels swears that he sees one of the eyes on the shadow’s wings blink at him.

“Never in a thousand years.”

Puzzler almost looks disappointed.

“That’s too bad. We’ll just have to try again later.”

The shadow sounds like Wels is a puppy that hasn’t learned to roll over yet. The shadow takes off again, leaving Wels trapped and alone again.

---

The day seems to move even slower. It’s overcast, so Wels can’t even track the time by watching the sun. He’s avoided moving too much in an attempt to keep his injuries from getting worse. He’s too hungry and injured to do anything, so he watches the gray clouds wander across the sky.

That night it rains. Wels is soaked to the bone and shivering. But it’s something to drink.

He resorts to taking his dented helmet off and supporting it between his feet to use as a makeshift rain catcher. It’s the only thing he’s had in days and it tastes like heaven.

---

Puzzler doesn’t show up in the morning.

---

He does show up the next day, though. The shadow looks into the trap and sees Wels’s sorry state.

His hair is matted and dirt after so many days without cleaning, and the pain in his ribs keeps him from even running his hands through it to try and fix it a little. Wels thinks the cuts may have gotten infected after he had been soaked from the rain. He’s starving and his vision his foggy from lack of sleep. The noise from his cage has prevented him from dozing for any more than the time between piston fires.

His helmet is discarded in the corner of the room. The floor is covered in shreds of its red plume and its visor is sitting broken beside it. Wels had taken the front part of it on and off so many times that he had broken the part that connected it to the rest of the helmet. After that, Wels had torn apart his plume, simply because he had nothing else to do.

As soon as Puzzler deactivates the pistons, Wels sighs with relief and the noise stops and he falls asleep.

He quickly wakes up again as the walls and floor begin to move again. Wels blinks through the fog in his mind as he tries to remember where he is. A shape drops through the ceiling and lands at the knight’s feet. Feathered wings fill the remaining space in the room as Puzzler deigns to enter Wels’s cage.

The shadow leans forwards and tilts up Wels’s head so that the knight’s glazed eyes look into his.

“Are you ready to make a deal yet?”

Wels doesn’t reply. He may be awake, but that doesn’t mean that he is there mentally.

Puzzler tuts and releases Wels’s jaw. He backs up as far as the small room will allow him and pulls three golden carrots out of his inventory.

Golden carrots don’t smell like much, but after days without food, Wels’s nose is looking for anything that smells remotely edible. The light returns to the knight’s eyes as he realizes that a meal is at stake.

Puzzler shakes the golden carrots.

“Are you ready to make a deal yet?”

Wels gives Puzzler his answer by gritting his teeth and kicking at the shadow’s leg. He hisses as the motion pulls at his ribs.

Puzzler sighs. “You’re incorrigible. Let’s see if you’ll be more agreeable after three more days.”

Wels summons up the only noise he can think to make and growls at the shadow. Puzzler laughs and launches himself out of the trap, leaving Wels alone once again.

---

That day it rains. He collects the water in his broken helmet again. It tastes like the nectar of the gods and gives him stomach something to do besides growl endlessly, though it still does that.

The water does sooth his throat and the chill wakes him up slightly. He can’t think. It takes too much effort, but he has to do something. He does the only thing he can think of.

Deep breaths shift his ribs too much, so he hums with shallow, often breaths. The humming turns into a tune Wels recognizes. He starts mumbling the words until they eventually come to him.

He has to take a deep breath after nearly every line.

“Hello, my old heart

How have you been?

Are you still there inside my chest?

I've been so worried, you've been so still

Barely beating at all.”

The rain is still falling through the perfect square opening, but night must-have set. It’s much darker than it was before.

“Oh, oh, don't leave me here alone

Don't tell me that we've grown

For having loved a little while

Oh, oh, I don't wanna be alone

I wanna find a home

And I wanna share it with you”

It’s thundering overhead. Wels has already song through the song several times. He stops singing and starts yelling. He has to take several breaths between each line, but it’s the only thing he can do.

“Hello, my old heart

It's been so long

Since I've given you away

And every day, I add another stone

To the walls I built around you

To keep you safe”

Between the piston fires, he can just barely hear the sounds of phantoms screeching. He distantly wonders if one of them could manage to fit through the hole into the prison.

“Oh, oh, don't leave me here alone

Don't tell me that we've grown

For having loved a little while

Oh, oh, I don't wanna be alone

I wanna find a home

And I wanna share it with you”

His hopes are dashed as phantoms scream in pain overhead.

"Hello, my old heart

How have you been?

How is it being locked away?

Don't you worry, in there, you're safe

And it's true, you'll never beat

But you'll never break"

Wels’s throat gives out after hours of making noise for the first time in days.

But someone continues the song overhead. When Wels first cuts out, their volume drops and they sound hesitant.

“Nothing lasts forever

Some things aren't meant to be

But you'll never find the answers

Until you set your old heart free

Until you set your old heart free”

But as the song comes to a conclusion, they sing the final lines with wavering confidence.

“Hello, my old heart

Hello, my old heart

Hello, my old heart”

It takes Wels clouded mind a long time to recognize the voice. It’s his own.

“Cavalier?”

His voice had broken halfway through the word.

There is a moment of silence before the shadow breaks it.

“Yes?”

“Have you been here the whole time?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Puzzler instructed me to keep an eye on you.”

“While he tortures me?

“While we give you an ultimatum.”

Wels closes his eyes. He knows it won’t change anything. Not looking at the moving walls won't make them go away.

“You haven’t done anything.”

A pause.

“But I’m aiding and abetting.”

“You are. Why?”

“. . . What?”

Wels registers that Cavalier sounds confused.

“Why are you listening to him?”

“Because… I’m a knight. And my job is to serve the Empire.”

Wels chuckles weakly.

“A knight’s job is to serve the people, not the empire.”

“I am serving the people.”

Cavalier sounds certain.

“Really? Who are your people? Are you serving people, or are you serving Puzzler?”

Wels puts as much acid as he can gather into the shadow’s name.

When Cavalier doesn’t answer, Wels laughs. It hurts his throat and ribs and everything. But to his sleep-deprived mind, it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard.

“You aren’t a knight. You’re a drone! The moment he finds someone more useful, you’re going to be knocked down the totem pole!”

Wels collapses into a pile of painful giggles.

Eventually, he settles and regrets his fit of laughter. His dislocated ribs burned in his chest. The rain had stopped and Wels looks through the hole in the floor at the stars overhead.

“Why are you listening to him, Cavalier?”

The shadow doesn’t answer as quickly this time.

“Because he gave me something to fight for.”

“You don’t fight for a reason. You fight because you don’t know what else to do.”

“What do you fight for?”

“My friends, justice, my beliefs. Right now, I’m fighting for myself. Because if I lose this fight, I’ll lose myself as well.”

Cavalier was quiet for a moment. Wels then heard soft footsteps moving away from the opening to his prison. The pistons stop firing.

The last thing he thinks is that he did something right. Then he’s asleep.

---

Cavalier takes his hand off the lever and hopes that he won’t regret this.

All of the redstone of the machine is exposed, so Cavalier carefully breaks through an unmoving wall of the piston tape and retrieves his summoner. Wels doesn’t make a noise as Cavalier picks him up in a bridal carry.

The shadow sets off at a slow pace away from Wels’s prison. He has at least three days to find another hermit.

He’s not deflecting. Of course he’s not. He’s a loyal knight of the empire. He’s the knight of the empire. He has to protect his people.

But he also has to protect people.

---

The first shadow he finds is Killjoy. Cavalier refuses to give Killjoy a moment to speak. It’s night time on day 3 and he has until the sun rises to do something. The knight in his arms had slept the entire journey.

He carefully sets Wels down in the tall grass and sprints to the shadow. “I don’t have time to talk. Wels is hurt and you need to take care of him. I also need you to kill me.”

Killjoy’s golden eyes go wide. He pushes past the shadow and kneels beside the knight on the ground, taking in Wels’s injuries and the circles around his eyes. Cavalier sees Killjoy’s eyes get even wider, and then narrow.

“Who did this?”

The shadow is bristling and speaking through clenched teeth.

When the shadow doesn’t speak up, Killjoy fronts on him.

“Did you do this?”

Cavalier’s eyes are wide and fearful, but he answers truthfully.“Yes.”

Killjoy draws his sword.

“You better have had a good fucking reason.”

The shadow is shaking his rage.

Cavalier answers truthfully.

“I didn’t.”

Killjoy swings.

*Welsknight’s shadow was killed.

#*shitilly kazoos* puzzler doesnt know if he can make deals with players so he tired to make one with wels #sadly for him wels has a will of steel and bleeding heart of gold #this just got away from me eventually #welsknight #wels #cavalier #puzzler #shadow people au #my writing

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kelyon · 5 years ago

Text

Nephila

My contribution to the Rumbelle Monsterfucker’s ball!!

Belle French is a naturalist called in to find out what’s been killing--but not eating--local sheep. What she finds will change her life.

Read on AO3

"Nephila is a genus of araneomorph spiders noted for the impressive webs they weave. Nephila consists of numerous species found in warmer regions around the world. They are commonly called golden silk orb-weavers, golden orb-weavers, giant wood spiders, or banana spiders.

"The genus name Nephila is derived from Ancient Greek, meaning "fond of spinning.""

****

Even for late August, it was stupidly hot. Belle French trudged across the stupidly designed quad of the University of Maine’s Storybrooke Campus. The cardigan she had stupidly worn as part of her “first day of school as an adjunct professor” outfit stuck to her back. The sweater was further pressed against her body by the leather strap of the bag she had stupidly slung over her shoulder. And the bag was heavy with five classes worth of “getting to know you” one-page essays she had stupidly assigned her undergraduates and--most stupidly of all--promised to return for credit next class.

She was the professor, goddamit, why was she the one with homework?

“Belle! Belle!”

Belle heard the running almost before she heard the voice calling after her. She stopped and turned and saw Ruby Lucas sprinting towards her. In the years she’d known Ruby, Belle had seen her run in everything from sneakers to stilettos to those “barefoot running” foot gloves, but she had never seen her friend look as winded as she did right now.

“What’s going on?” Belle asked as Ruby got closer. “Is there an emergency? Is your grandmother okay?”

Ruby shook her head and gulped down air before she started talking. “Wheren.... Aus... la...ufrum?”

Belle blinked at her friend. “You want to run that by me again?”

With her hands on her knees, Ruby took another deep breath, which only improved things by a fraction. “Where in... Australia… are... you from?

“Melbourne,” Belle answered, then added, “Did you run all the way from the Bio Building just to ask me that?”

“No,” Ruby panted, her mind clearly going faster than her breath would allow. “The next thing I wanna know is, how far is Melbourne from Queensland?”

Belle gaped at her friend. What was going on? “What part of Queensland? It’s a big state.”

“I don’t know what part. But if you go to Queensland, can you crash with your parents?”

“I--No?” Belle gathered herself and squashed down her incredulity. “Ruby, that’s like asking if my parents can stay with me here in Maine while they stop down and go to Disney World! Now will you tell me what’s going on? Why do we need emergency trivia about Australian geography?”

“Bio department got a call,” Ruby huffed. “The University of Brisbane is looking for field agents for a job, but they don’t want any specialists.”

Belle’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Ruby nodded. “I know! It’s weird. It sounds like they’re looking for general zoologists.” She put her hand meaningfully on Belle’s shoulder. “Like someone who still hasn’t picked out a specific branch of study even though she’s well into her doctoral process!”

Unlike Ruby--who had decided in middle school that lupine biology was her passion and had never strayed from that course--Belle had yet to find a specialization that she could stick with. All animals were equally fascinating to her--from bison to crocodiles to arachnids--and she had spent countless credit hours in one field, only to find her enthusiasm building for another subject. She had gotten through her bachelor’s and master’s degrees by taking basic classes and calling herself a generalist. After all, zoology was a legitimate discipline all by itself. Even if specialization was more likely to offer job prospects.

But… this was a job prospect. Wasn’t it?

“Why does the University of Brisbane want an unspecialized naturalist?”

Ruby handed Belle a piece of paper with a phone number scrawled on it. “I guess you’ll have to ask them when you get there.”

****

Four weeks, three interviews, and one extended leave of absence later, Belle got off the plane at the Mount Isa Airport. She was met by a short, gruff-looking man from the university. He took her bags and threw them in the back of a dust-covered Jeep.

“This is the real outback, isn’t it?” Belle shouted as they drove along a bumpy road. The loud Jeep pulled up clouds of red dust as it went.

“Not really,” the man yelled over the noise. He hadn’t introduced himself, but he wore an ID badge that said Leroy. “But it’s close enough that tourists can’t tell the difference!”

“I’m really not a tourist!” Belle grabbed onto the dashboard as the Jeep jolted over some unidentifiable obstacle in the road. “I’m with the university!”

“I know! You’re gonna find what’s killing the sheep!”

“Is that what this is about?” In all her briefings on this assignment, Belle still hadn’t been told why they needed someone who had no specialty.

Leroy pulled off the road and onto a paved driveway that eventually led up to a massive house.

“This property belongs to Mary Margaret and David Nolan,” he said when he cut the engine. “They’re sheep graziers, and they’ve noticed a diminishing return on their flock. Usually, they’d call it dingos and move on. But the shepherds aren’t finding bones or carcasses. They’re finding bodies, but they haven’t been eaten. There are only ever two bites on a sheep.”

Leroy hadn’t looked at Belle much on their ride to the Nolan station, but now as he sat in the parked Jeep with his hands on the steering wheel, he turned and looked her dead in the eyes. “They look like fang marks.”

“Well, God knows there are enough venomous animals on this continent. We have a list of usual suspects. What kind of snakes live in this area?”

“Sister,” Leroy opened his door. “I’ve lived in these parts for twenty years, I’ve never seen anything do damage like this.”

He took her bag out of the Jeep and lead her to an outbuilding off the side of the main house. The edge of a folded-over blue tarp flapped in the wind on the ground outside, though most of the material was weighed down by an object hidden inside the fold.

Leroy stood over the tarp, but looked at her before he lifted it. “Are you ready to look at this?”

Belle swallowed her fear and squared her jaw. “Of course I’m ready. I’m a professional.”

“Okay.”

It was definitely a sheep, that thing on the tarp. And it was definitely dead. Belle couldn’t help but feel sorry for the animal’s untimely demise. Her heart and stomach both wrenched at the sight of its lifeless eyes, its stiff limbs and unnaturally twisted neck.

The condition of the animal was as Leroy had described: it wasn’t eaten or dismembered. The sheep didn’t even look as though it had been attacked--at least, not by anything with ripping claws or crushing mandibles.

But there were marks on the sheep. On the neck, about ten centimeters apart, there were two deep incisions. Belle got a pair of rubber gloves out of her bag and examined the marks. The whole of her hand fit in the space between the holes. She could fit two fingers inside of the wounds, they were deep enough to go up to her second knuckle.

“That’s definitely not a snake,” Belle said. She turned to Leroy. “Are you sure this was an animal? Do the Nolans have enemies? This could just be the work of some really sick human.”

A new voice entered the conversation. “You really think a person is capable of that kind of torture to a helpless animal?”

Belle straightened up and looked at the new speaker. He was a tall man in khakis and a bush hat, an outfit that should have been practical, but just made him look like he was dressing up as Crocodile Dundee. He had spoken with an American accent, so it was entirely possible that he had, in fact, bought a new wardrobe in order to appear “authentic” for his trip “down under.”

Folding her arms over her chest, Belle gave the man a look of incredulous disdain. “It can’t be a controversial opinion that in most conflicts between men and beasts, humans are the aggressors.”

The tall man laughed, an obnoxiously boisterous sound. He clapped Leroy on the back, as though he were a pint-sized sidekick. Leroy glared at him and shook off his hand.

“Miss French, this is your expedition partner.”

“Clay Gaston,” the man extended his hand. He had a very white smile “I knew I was the braun to your brain, but no one mentioned your beauty!”

Belle shook his hand for just long enough to be polite and then pulled away. She decided to ignore the remark about her looks. “I’m Belle French, one-woman co-oprative between the Universities of Maine and Brisbane. Are you associated with an institute?”

Mr. Gaston shook his head. “I’m a big game hunter, the Nolans hired me to kill whatever you find. No beast alive stands a chance against me. And no girl for that matter!” He gave another smile that Belle officially classified as ‘shit-eating.’

This was going to be a long, stupid, trip.

****

The next morning, after breakfasting with the Nolans and getting a few more answers than she’d had before, Belle set out to find her sheep attacker. The couple said that all the sheep with fang marks had been found within a hundred meters of an abandoned mine. Of course, the entire area was littered with old mine shafts, so that only sort of narrowed down the possibilities. But it was something to go on, at least.

Squinting in the merciless sun as she left the main house, Belle couldn’t quite believe that Gaston was sitting behind the wheel of the Jeep.

“Isn’t Leroy the driver around here?”

“Three’s a crowd,” Gaston said. “I drove around this ranch for a few days before you got here, I can get you where you need to go.”

“It’s called a station,” Belle muttered as she walked around the Jeep to get in the passenger side.

When she climbed in, Belle saw a long rifle laying across the back seat. How had Gaston gotten that through customs? She gaped at it, then turned to Gaston. “Tell me that’s a tranquilizer gun.”

The man scoffed and started the Jeep before Belle had her seatbelt on. “The Nolans hired us to get rid of the thing that’s killing their sheep. Your part is to tell me what to shoot at. I’ll take care of the rest.”

The sight of the gun and Gaston’s cavalier attitude about this whole expedition gave Belle a stomach ache. But she shook her head and tried to focus on their mission.

“So what’s your plan, Mr. Gaston?”

“Follow the mine shafts,” he said. At least he kept his eyes on the road. “If we find a body, we can try to track whatever killed it. If all goes well, we’ll find the thing, kill it, and bring the body back to the Nolans tonight. If that doesn’t work, we’ll go back and try something else tomorrow.”

In the vast catalogue of “bad plans,” that wasn’t the worst. Belle reminded herself that Gaston was a professional hunter and tracker. And the same people who had hired her had also hired him. He couldn’t be as much of an idiot as he seemed.

After an hour in the dusty wasteland, Belle spotted a white lump in the distance. Gaston drove the Jeep off the dirt road and pulled up to the animal. With her rubber gloves covering her to the wrist, Belle examined the carcass. Like the one on the tarp back at the station, this sheep was uninjured except for two red puncture wounds.

Unlike the sheep at the station, this one was still warm.

“It’s close,” Belle said. The sheep’s blood was still wet and tacky on her gloves. She hastily removed them. “You think it’s in the mine?”

Gaston made a show of looking around the flat expanse around them. “Something this big can’t just hide behind a bush. If we don’t see it, it’s not on the surface.”

Belle exhaled slowly through her nose. He wasn’t wrong. There was a hole in the ground only a few meters away from where they stood, where the sheep had been attacked. They were right on top of a mine. Something could have very easily come up from the ground, attacked the sheep, and run back home.

“But it doesn’t make sense,” Belle muttered. “Why would an animal kill a sheep and not eat it?”

Gaston shrugged. “Maybe it thought the sheep was something else? Like, sharks think that people are seals when they bite them.”

“Maybe,” Belle said. “But what does it want instead? And how would it know that there was prey but not know what it was?”

Her brow furrowed in against the sunlight, Belle squinted down at the sheep. There was something glinting beside the carcass. Belle crouched down to get a closer look. The sparkling thing was gold against the red dirt.

“Is that jewelry?” A dropped necklace would be evidence that this senseless slaughter was in fact the work of people--maybe some cruel teenagers or the Nolan’s cutthroat rivals.

But when Belle examined the thing, she saw that it wasn’t any kind of chain. It was thin as a hair, at risk of blowing away in the wind. It almost looked like some kind of golden thread.

“Are we going to the mine or what?” Gaston said.

Still squinting, Belle followed the line of the thread as it wove around the sheep and over the brush and into the hole in the ground. She stood up and slapped the dust off her shorts.

“I think we have to,” Belle said. Though the animal’s access point was right in front of them, Belle had no interest in rappelling from a hole in the ground down into the unknown. She turned to look down the dirt road, and then back at Gaston. “Where’s the entrance?”

****

The mine was dark and cavernous. The entrance had been at ground level, a few hundred meters away from where they had found the sheep. As they went on, the path sloped steeply downwards into the earth. The only light came from their battery-operated torches. Belle held her light in one hand and left the other hand free as she walked. Gaston had an LED light mounted on his shoulder and used both hands to hold his rifle. The LEDs gave off a cold, bluish light that gave Belle a headache. She’d had her torch since she was a kid, and it gave off a warm yellow glow that made it easier to trace the gold-colored threads that hung all around the stone mine walls.

“I can’t tell if I’m Orpheus or Theseus,” Belle remarked. “Descending into the underworld, but following a golden thread so I don’t get lost in the maze.”

“Is that from a movie or something?”

Belle opened her mouth, but then decided it wasn’t worth it.

There was nothing alive in the mines. In the light of her torch, Belle didn’t see any signs of animals--no bones or scat or likely habitats. There was nothing here but dust and rocks and strands of golden thread. As they went deeper into the mines, the threads became more frequent, the spacing of them denser and harder to avoid. Weaving around each other over and over, the threads almost seemed to form a narrow tunnel.

Gaston ducked, but couldn’t avoid scraping his head against the threads. He pulled the gold out of his black hair and grimaced at the sticky strands. “This isn’t real gold, is it? We’re not literally walking through a gold mine?”

“No,” Belle said. “Honestly, these look like cobwebs more than anything else.”

Giving up the subtle approach, Gaston used the butt of his rifle to clear away the rest of the tunnel. “You think a spider did all this?”

They emerged into a vast space, like a cathedral in the middle of the mine. There were a few boarded-up mine shafts above their heads, letting in narrow beams of sunlight. Looking up, Belle realized just how far under the ground they were.

Then the beam of her torch caught the golden threads again. But the threads were no longer sparse trails, or even the dense mass of the tunnel. Now they formed a sprawling, asymmetrical web that covered the entire space of the cavern. Belle and Gaston both looked up at it, gaping.

“Yeah,” Belle said. “I think that’s a spider’s work.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gaston swallow. “A spider that’s big enough to kill sheep but not hungry enough to eat them.”

Belle nodded. “I wonder what it really wants.”

She didn’t see what happened next. Her first sensation was of motion beside her, of Gaston falling over and shouting out, “Oof!” Then a hard crunch and half the light went out. All the illumination from the LEDs vanished.

A man screamed. Gaston! Belle swept her yellow beam over the ground, frantically searching for him.

But he wasn’t on the ground.

She saw him, five meters up in the air, his body already wrapped up like a mummy and dangling by a golden thread. He was struggling to break free, but with every second, Belle could see his movements become weaker and more disjointed. In no time at all, he was still.

When Gaston’s wrapped-up body spun around, Belle saw two large fang marks on his shoulder. She screamed.

“Shhhh,” a raspy voice came from the dimness. “Don’t make noise.”

Belle swung her torch all over the room. “Who’s there? Where are you?”

“My home,” the voice said. “You trespassed.”

Heart pounding, Belle tried to stay calm. “Your home?” she asked, still looking for the source of the voice. “You live here? With that spider around?”

“Not a spider,” was the only answer. “Spiders are small.”

Belle worked very hard to keep her panting from becoming hyperventilating. “Then what killed Mr. Gaston?”

“Not killed,” came the sound of the voice. A voice Belle could no longer swear was human. “Not yet. You should go before I eat him.”

Gason wasn’t dead? And the thing in the mine with her was going to eat him? “Wait!” Belle thrust a pleading hand into the darkness. “Take me instead!”

In the dim light, she saw the outline of a creature. It stayed in the shadows, but she could make out a head cocking to one side. It was looking at her.

“You?” the inhuman voice asked “You would… take his place?”

Belle fought to keep the fear out of her voice. “If I did, would you let him go? Could you let him go?”

An appendage came from out of the shadows and prodded at Gaston’s limp body. Then it discarded him, and turned to Belle. She could hear many legs moving in the darkness, coming closer to her.

“Why?” The creature’s voice was high and low at the same time. It was a chirp with deep and menacing echoes.

“I can’t go back without him. He’s my responsibility. I have to protect him.”

“You?” it said again. “You so small, so weak? He should protect you.”

“He tried and you see where that got us.” Belle nodded to Gaston’s rifle. It had been knocked out of his hands before they had even seen the creature.

“So,” it hissed, “to save your male, you would feed me? Let me bite you?”

“You wouldn’t even need to use your venom.” Belle ignored the urge to vomit as she discussed her own slaughter. “I’m small enough that I think you could just eat me. If your physiology is the same as the smaller species in your genus.”

“That’s personal information,” the monster said stiffly.

“I wouldn’t even fight you, at least I’d try not to. I--” It took a moment for Belle to make sense of what the thing had just said. “Was that a joke?”

“Hmm?”

“W-when I mentioned your genus, you said that was personal. Was that humor?”

It made a sound then, a high-pitched twitter that repeated a few times. After a moment, Belle realized it was laughter. This monster could speak English. It could hold a conversation. It could make a joke.

This thing in the cave was more intelligent than most of her undergraduates.

With a bizarre sense of relief--even though the danger was far from over--Belle began to laugh as well. This was just one of those days, wasn’t it? Like her favorite comedian said, adult life is already so goddamned weird, this might as well happen.

The creature stopped laughing and Belle became aware of it looking at her again.

“I don’t have to eat,” it said. “Not if other needs are met.”

“Really?” Belle asked. “Will you let us both go? Will you stop killing the sheep?”

“Other needs,” it repeated. “Must be met.”

Belle gulped. “Okay. Um.”

“Pretty human.” Was she nuts or did the creature sound thoughtful? “Pretty human wants her male to go free.”

“Yes,” Belle whispered. “No matter what, don’t eat Gaston.”

“No,” it agreed. “Ugly human stinks. No good for anything.”

“But,” she made herself say it. “You can eat me.”

“Yes,” the creature hissed. “I can. Or.” It didn’t finish the sentence.

“Or?” Belle asked. “Or what?”

“Or you can choose, pretty human.”

Belle’s hands clenched into fists. “Tell me what I can choose.”

“Choose,” it said, “what you will be. Will you be meal? Or.” It waited again, waited an eternity before it gave Belle the second option. “Will you be mate?”

For a very, very long moment, Belle didn’t remember to breathe. She stood in the dark cave, in the beam of her torch, surrounded by golden webs, every bit as paralyzed as Gaston. Her mouth opened and closed. Her lips tried to form words but no sound would come out of them.

“W-w-what do you mean by ‘mate’?”

The sound the monster made was simultaneously amused and lustful. “Females should be bigger,” it said. “Ten times bigger than males! I should be afraid of you. Instead, you are afraid of me.”

“I am,” Belle admitted. “I’m afraid of things I don’t know, things I don’t understand.” She took a deep breath. “But I’ve found a pretty easy way to get over those fears.”

“Oh?” She could hear the creature scuttling in the darkness. It seemed to be all around her, examining her from every angle.

“Yes,” she gulped. “Usually, I stop being afraid once I know more about the thing that scares me.”

Research had long been her weapon against a world that didn’t make sense. If she knew enough about a danger, then she knew how to avoid it, or how to survive it. It was an attitude she found common in doctors and economists, and naturalists like herself. All the good ones, anyway. They believed that forewarned is forearmed.

Of course, the other side of that coin was someone had to have the first-hand experience that went into the books that future generations used for research. It was all well and good to arm yourself with knowledge, but at a certain point, if you were really serious about advancing science, you had to do something no one else had ever done. You had to do the brave thing, even if only so future generations could look at your work and see what not to do.

It was pretty clearly documented what happened to the prey of nephila. Belle herself could confirm the process of paralyzing a victim through venom and wrapping it in silk for later consumption. The creature had already done all of that to Gaston. If she agreed to be the creature’s meal, it would do that to her, and she would also get a first-hand view of its devouring behavior and digestive processes, though any notes she might make on such matters would surely be lost to science forever.

But did anyone know what happened to a human body in the process of arachnid copulation? What could happen, under those circumstances? Science had never found a specimen as large as the one that had made the webs in this cave. Science had never come across an invertebrate that expressed a sexual interest in humans.

Now, Belle had both.

Besides, she had been hired specifically to find the thing that had been killing the Nolan’s sheep and to get it to stop. This creature seemed to be killing without feeding out of misplaced sexual energy. Surely, the most logical method of saving the sheep was to get the creature to expend that sexual energy. On her.

This was the discovery of a lifetime. This would provide groundbreaking data for twenty different fields of study. This was literally her job. Who else would ever have this chance? Who else would ever take it? She had to do it. For the sake of the Nolans’ sheep, for the sake of Gaston’s life, for the sake of her own intellectual integrity, she had to fuck this monster.

“Well?” the voice came from the shadows, even more hushed than before. “Choice?”

Belle swallowed. It was one thing to see the rightness in doing something, but it was another thing entirely to actually do it. Besides, there was one more thing she had to know before she gave it her answer.

“Step into the light.”

It did as she asked. One leg emerged from the shadows, then another, and another. The legs rested on thin points that gradually tapered up to joints and grew thicker from there. From the way it teetered on its points, Belle could tell that this creature didn’t usually stand on the ground. It was a weaver, after all. It was most comfortable in its web.

The points of the legs were dark brown, but halfway up the colors changed to include a band of yellowish gold before it turned dark again. Every leg had that coloration, it was a sign to evoke fear in potential predators. A warning, that this thing was venomous.

A warning Belle and Gaston would have done well to heed.

Belle looked up the height of the creature, at the legs that just kept going, until high above her head, she saw the rest of it. It had an oblong abdomen, as long as she was tall. At the cephalothorax, where a regular spider would have had a head, this thing kept going. It looked like it had a waist--not an abdomen, a waist that developed into a chest. It had shoulders and arms and five-fingered hands. It had a neck and a head and a face that looked like a man.

It was grinning at her.

She had been afraid before, when she hadn’t known the true nature of this beast. Now that she knew, now that she saw it… “afraid” didn’t even begin to describe the feeling.

Black eyes clustered around the creature’s face, two large main eyes and then multiple smaller ones. Intellectually, Belle knew there were six more eyes than she was used to looking at on one face, but right now she was far too overwhelmed to count them. It looked at her, the gleam of her torch reflecting in all of its shiny black eyes.

“Choice?” it repeated. The mouth looked human, but with stubby chelicerae protruding out from the sides like an old-time moustache. That was where the creature had its fangs. “Meal or mate?”

Shaking, Belle took a step closer to it. “Mate.”

Instantly, two legs came from behind her and scooped her up. As she was lifted up into the air, Belle couldn’t fight her body’s instinct to wiggle and squirm. But then, another leg pressed itself onto her chest.

“Stop,” the creature said. “You look yummy when you do that. Remember, you are mate.”

Chest heaving, Belle tried to think. Of course her frantic motions would look like some small animal fighting for its life! She couldn’t act like that, or it might spur on a feeding instinct instead of a sexual one. She had to stay calm. She had to think like a spider.

“What does a mate do?”

The legs that held her lifted her up even higher, setting her in the center of the asymmetrical golden web. The creature let her go and Belle grabbed onto the silk threads, bracing herself for a fall.

But she didn’t fall. Belle looked at her arms and saw that they were sticking to the web, without her having to hold on to anything. About half of the threads were coated with droplets that looked like dew. She could reach one hand out to the droplets, and as soon as she touched them she found that she couldn’t move her hand away from the thread. She was stuck.

In a spirit of having nothing to lose, Belle reached her other hand out to a thread that had no sticky droplets. That one she could touch freely, she could run her hand back and forth over the impossibly thin golden thread.

She plucked at the thread, like a harp string, and felt the vibrations emanate all around her. The creature was below her, balancing delicately on eight thin legs. It only walked on the threads that had no droplets, safe from the traps it had laid for others. When she touched the thread, it reacted, perking its head up to register the vibrations.

It was coming closer to her, approaching her from below. Black, lifeless eyes looked up at her. Eyes like that shouldn’t be so expressive. Belle shouldn’t have been able to discern curiosity and wonder in eyes that were nothing but eight round voids.

“You are mate,” it whispered. Its strange voice sounded almost awed. “Mate is queen.”

Climbing up the thread on all its legs, the creature came and looked Belle in the face. Even the human parts of him--it, Belle corrected her thoughts, even the parts of the spider that looked like a human--were colored for camouflage on the forest floor. The hands were green-brown and ended in sharp black points that looked like filed fingernails.

He--it--brushed away the strands of hair that had escaped from Belle’s ponytail. It touched her face and cocked its head to look at her.

“Pretty mate,” it said.

“Thank you,” Belle said. Maybe that was stupid, but good manners never hurt.

The creature’s skin was mottled into a tortise-shell mixture of green and brown and black, with flecks of iridescent gold shining through. And it was skin, Belle was pretty sure. This wasn’t an exoskeleton. How was it possible that this thing was both an arachnid and a vertebrate?

He seemed as fascinated with her as she was with him. His hands slowly trailed down from her cheek to her neck. But it got confused when it reached her khaki jacket and the blouse underneath.

“Wrong,” it said. The thing had eight eyes, but only two eyebrows to furrow in confusion.

“I’m wearing clothes,” Belle explained. “It’s… kind of like fur? That I can take off?”

That did not seem to help him understand. “Wrong,” he said again.

“You know how sheep have that wooly white stuff on the outside? Have you ever seen it come off?”

Realization dawned. All eight eyes widened in delight and his fanged mouth cracked into a smile. “Sheer!” it squeaked. “I can sheer human mate!”

“Gently!” Belle cried before he could get carried away. “Please be careful with me.”

It looked into her eyes and spoke softly in its inhuman voice: “Mate is small. Mate is weak. I will be gentle.”

Belle swallowed. “Thank you.”

His five-fingered hands were clumsy, but Belle was impressed that he was even trying to undo her buttons. She’d had human dates who would just rip her blouse open when they’d started making out.

While his hands slowly exposed more of her skin, his pointed legs caressed her body. It was a strange and not entirely pleasant touch--like being softly stroked with a pool cue--but she appreciated the effort. He was being very gentle.

Once he had undone the buttons on her jacket, her blouse, and her khakis, the creature only had to push her sports bra up and her underwear down to get access to everything he wanted.

It looked her up and down and Belle had never had so many eyes on her body at once.

“Mate,” it whispered. His voice was thick and heavy. “Perfect mate.”

A shiver went up Belle’s spine. God help her, she had never felt so sexy. The mine was surprisingly warm and she felt herself opening up to this creature. She wanted to let him in to her body, and not just for the pursuit of scientific endeavors. Her nipples hardened and she twisted her body on the web, trying to get closer to him.

He saw what she was doing. With his long, thin legs holding him onto the web, the creature drew nearer to Belle. They were face to face, torso to torso. Her legs were spread, she waited for him to mount her or skewer her or rub up against her in an animalistic passion.

But he didn’t.

He touched her face again, gently, all eight of his eyes looking into hers. There was something about him, something about his eyes and his soft touch. He looked at her like he adored her. But how could a spider be capable of adoration? And how could Belle possibly be worthy of it?

With a strong but tender jerk, he pulled her stuck hand away from the web. Her arms were still stuck, they held her up in the middle of these golden threads. But now both her hands were free.

“Thank you,” Belle said.

The creature didn’t say anything. It lowered itself a little, so he was looking up at her again. He raised his chin, exposing his neck in front of Belle’s free hands. A few eyes looked at her expectantly.

“Do you want me to touch you?”

“Please?” it hissed. “Mate touch?”

Belle’s heart fluttered. It sounded so sad. How long had it been alone? There couldn’t be any females of this species. If there were, her creature would have mated already and there would have been spiderlings and in short order the entire continent of Australia (if not the entire world) would have been covered in golden webs and all life would be prey to this apex predator.

She reached out her open palm to his cheek. With a sigh, he closed most of his eyes and leaned into her touch. His skin was warm and only slightly rough. She touched his cheek, his jaw, but when her fingers brushed against the flesh that sheathed his fangs, he jerked back.

“No!” he said in a fervent whisper. “Not there!”

Belle swallowed. “Does it hurt you?”

“Hurt you!” he said. He tilted his head in the dim light, showing off the venom dripping from his fangs. “Hurt sheep, hurt prey, hurt smelly male human. Not hurt you.” His two largest eyes bore into her. “Never hurt mate!”

Again, Belle felt her soul soften at this gentle monster. He was so intense, so insistent, so aware of his strength and her weakness.

“Do you know what names are?” She wanted to give him something, something more than just the physical release they had initially dealt for.

He cocked his head at her. “Name?”

She nodded. “It’s something you can call me, to separate me from other humans, so you don’t have to keep calling me ‘mate,’ unless you want to.”

“Mate is separate,” he said reverently. “Mate is nothing like other humans. Mate has name?”

“Mm-hmm,” she nodded. “My name is Belle.”

“Belle,” he said in his strange voice. The multiple tones gave her name a musical quality. It was clear that he had never said the word before, and Belle felt that she had never before heard anyone really say her name.

She never wanted anyone else to say it again.

“Do you have a name?” she asked him. “Do others of your kind call you anything?”

With a series of strange clicks and grunts, he made a long poly-syllabic sound that started with an R and ended with “in.”

“I don’t think I can say that,” Belle said apologetically. “I’m not as good with my mouth as you are.”

“Belle,” he said again, dismissing her shortcomings in his adoration. “Belle, you are perfect.”

He put his hands on her again, on her neck and her chest. He ran his palms over her breasts and rubbed her nipples with his thumbs.

Belle moaned and he stopped at once, his black eyes wide.

“No,” she explained. “No, that feels good. I like it when you touch me. I really like it when you touch me there.”

Nodding slowly, he put his hands on her again. His pointed legs kept him suspended over her on the web. Gently, he trailed his fingers over the curve of her waist, his eyes looking down between her legs.

“Taste,” he whispered. His largest eyes looked at her face, the rest of them looked down below her waist “Want to taste.”

“Okay,” Belle said without hesitation. “But what about your venom?”

He was already climbing down the web and he looked up at her as he answered. “Careful!” he said brightly. “Feels good!”

Whenever anybody went down on her, the only thing Belle didn’t like was how she had no idea what was going on. That wasn’t so bad if the person knew what they were doing--if all Belle was aware of was electric bliss then it didn’t matter what technique they were using. But when guys didn’t know what they were doing and all Belle felt was a mildly pleasant warmth, then she would have liked to know what they were trying and hope that they would listen to her suggestions.

But the spider, the monster with a name she couldn’t pronounce, did not need her help. The shock of his first touch burst up her spine and made her shriek.

“I’m okay!” she cried before he could stop. “That was good!”

“Yes,” he said, lifting his head up from between her legs. “I know. I smell. Belle feels good.”

Fuck, Belle thought. How did he know what he was doing? How did this animal know how well he was mating her? Just by smell? Just by reading her body and sensing the animal in her? How much of an animal was she that she could accept him into her?

Probing and licking, his tongue explored her everywhere. Belle was so wet she couldn’t feel anything but pleasure, a steadily-mounting glow that rose higher out of her with every move he made. He pressed down against her heat, pushing his face into her, flicking his tongue over and over, everywhere around her cunt.

“I’m going to orgasm,” she gasped, more as an explanation than anything else. He was working her up so perfectly, but would he know what would come of his efforts? “I’m going to shake and scream, but it’s good. It’s very good. You’re not hurting me. Fuck!”

The sticky web behind her held her down, kept her from writhing and jerking like she would have if she were free. God, if someone was doing this to her on her bed in her crappy apartment she’d be thrashing on the mattress and covering her mouth with her hand so she wouldn’t wake the neighbors.

But Belle didn’t have to worry about that here. They were in a cavern, kilometers away from any settlements. They only person who could hear her moans and wails was Gaston, and he was still knocked out cold.

She would have to get him to a hospital when this was all over.

For now, Belle let loose her cries. She shouted and screamed and pressed herself as close as she could to the creature that was dedicating himself to her pleasure.

He didn’t stop, didn’t seem aware that she had climaxed. He kept his mouth on her--did he even use it to breathe?--and plunged her into another wave of ecstasy.

Belle whimpered and moaned as a second orgasm built up and then released. Her body hung limp against the sticky threads, but her legs were still open and the spider still had his mouth on her, relentless and hungry.

After her third orgasm in a row, Belle weakly tried to close her legs. She couldn’t even feel her pussy anymore. “Please stop,” she gasped. “Just let me catch my breath.”

The creature pulled away from her with a squelching sound. Ribbons of fluids hung and dripped between their connected bodies. When he looked at her, somehow his eyes seemed even wider and darker than they had been before.

“Belle is pleased?” He rested his hands on her waist.

“Oh God, yes,” she answered. “You were--that was amazing!”

“Belle is happy?”

She looked down at him. Her hands were free enough that she could reach down and touch his face the way he liked so much. His cheeks were moist and sticky and Belle felt her body clench.

“I’m happy,” she said. Why did it matter so much to him? “You made me happy.”

Under her hands, she felt him swallow. “Now,” he gulped. “May I mate with you?”

Belle let out a chuckle and leaned her head against the threads. “Of course! You know, in human mating what you did isn’t even necessary. It’s just polite. Extremely polite to do it three times.”

He didn’t answer. He crawled up the web to face her, to press his body against hers. One hand touched her face, stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. His other hand stayed in the space between their bodies. Belle looked down to see what he was doing, but he tilted her chin up to hold her gaze.

“Don’t be scared,” he whispered.

“I’m not,” Belle answered. “I’m curious.”

His wide mouth broke into a smile. Now his fangs dripped with more fluids than just venom. The smell of her completion on his face only made her wetter.

She felt his hand against her, felt some strange new wetness sliding against her pleasure. Slowly, the creature pushed his fingers into her cunt.

The fingers didn’t move. He wasn’t, well, fingering her. She couldn’t quite tell what he was doing. She had never been fisted--was that what this was? He was so slow as he entered her. His hand felt so much bigger than any cock she’d ever taken, bigger than even her most adventurous sex toys. Thank God he’d already given her three orgasms!

Belle panted as he pushed himself deeper into her. Her hips rocked with a needful motion. Was he going to thrust? Was he going to fuck her properly or just fill her with his hand?

When she looked at the creature, he had half of his eyes closed in bliss. The other half gazed down at her. “Belle is good?”

“Can you move your arm?” Belle gasped as her body undulated back and forth. “Can you match the way I’m moving?”

It took a moment, but he figured out what she wanted. They rocked together, as tightly joined as any two lovers in the history of the world. Belle’s body shook the entire web and the creature pushed himself against her for stability. She cried and moaned with deep, guttural noises and she had to hastily tell him that this was good, he was good, she was feeling so good.

The orgasm rose out of her belly, deeper and stronger than the three she’d had from his mouth. Vaginal orgasm, Belle thought, categorising the experience even as she lived it. Biologically, she knew, there was no difference between a vaginal orgasm and a clitoral one--but this sure as hell felt different.

She came apart with a mad rush, every inch of her jerking and thrusting against the creature’s hand. Her body clenched around it with so much force she almost thought she heard a crack. Had she broken his wrist in her passion? It wouldn’t have surprised her. Fuck, but she had never been fucked this well!

The creature moved with her, thrust for thrust and jerk for jerk. He clung to her with one hand and fucked her with the other. He made strange, chittering, animal noises and Belle knew that he was voicing his pleasure. He grunted out his desire, his passion, his burning need that only Belle could satisfy. Pushing into her again and again, the creature trembled and shook on its web, all eyes closed in ecstasy.

When she couldn’t come anymore, she lay back on the web loosely. The creature delicately pried her away from the sticky golden threads and wrapped her in his arms. Belle sighed and rested in his embrace. Had she ever before felt so exhausted? So sated? So full?

For a while, she dozed in the creature’s arms. He seemed to have no interest in letting her go and she wasn’t exactly ready to walk back to the Jeep. The two of them spoke together, pillow talk without pillows, exchanging questions and compliments, both of them coming down from a wonderful high.

All too soon, another noise entered their conversation--a harsh groan of pain from the cave floor.

“Gaston!” Belle all but leaped away from the creature. How could she have forgotten about Gaston? The venom must be wearing off. He was waking up. He probably still had head trauma. She needed to get him back to the Nolan’s!

Grabbing onto the smooth threads--not the ones covered in a sticky dew that trapped prey--Belle slid down the web and jumped the remaining distance to the ground.

“Could have carried you,” the creature said, still in the center of the web.

Belle smiled up at him and began to put her clothes to rights. “I’m sorry I have to leave,” she said. “But he really should go to a hospital.”

The creature looked down at Gaston, who was making a valiant effort to roll over in his golden cocoon. “Deal’s a deal,” he shrugged, his arms pulled tightly across his chest. “You may go.”

“I, uh, I had a good time,” Belle said lamely.

But the spider was already retreating into the darkness.

She wanted to shout after it, but what could she say? Stay, wait, let’s have dinner? It was ridiculous. She couldn’t pursue a romantic relationship with a spider! Why would she even want to? And she couldn’t even come back to this godforsaken cave for another round of the best sex she’d ever had in her life!

If the only reason it had been attacking sheep was out of misplaced sexual energy, then when Belle had relived that energy, she had negated any possibility of it happening again. The Nolans would be happy, but she would never have a reason to come back here.

And--Belle just now realized--all of her scientific justifications for this little experiment came up to nothing because her results could not be replicated and no one in the scientific community would ever believe her!

“Fuck!” Belle shouted as she kicked a rock with her hiking boot. What a stupid waste of time! The only thing she gotten from walking into this stupid cave was the ability to walk back out again with stupid Gaston!

Belle sighed. Right. Gaston. Hospital.

She took out her pocket knife and cut the golden silk away from his body. After she helped him sit up, she rubbed some feeling back into his hands. The bitemarks in his shoulder were the size of American quarters. His skin was cold, maybe numb. Would he be able to walk?

“How you feeling, buddy?”

Her expedition partner rubbed his head. “The hell happened?”

“We found the sheep killer, don’t you remember? It was a giant spider.”

“How big, like a foot?”

Belle laughed. “Close enough. It bit you, and then I picked up the rifle and shot it. The pieces are too small to put into specimen bags, but at least we know it won’t be a problem anymore.”

Gaston nodded, still too zoned out to point out any holes in that story. “Told you,” he slurred a little as he spoke. “Told you it was a good idea to bring a real gun.”

“Yep,” Belle said as she helped him stand. Step by step, she helped him out of the cave. “You really saved the day.”

****

On the walk back to the Jeep and the drive back to camp, Belle was able to refine her story. The caves held nothing new, no groundbreaking discoveries in biology. Just a larger-than-average golden orb weaver that had been biting local sheep and injecting them with venom. Belle told the Nolans that the thing probably hadn’t even known what to do with prey that large. But the most important part was that it wouldn’t bother anyone again.

She tried to apply that mentality to her own experiences in the cave. It had happened, but it wasn’t that big a deal. It wasn’t going to change her life. As soon as she got back to the station, she had taken the longest, hottest shower of her life. Warm water ran over her and she tried her best to wash away the memory of the creature.

A few days later she was back in the states, lecturing to dead-eyed teenagers and expanding her knowledge in the library instead of on the field. She tried to focus on her research, tried not to think of it as a cop-out that she was back inside, reading about other people’s adventures instead of having one of her own.

Belle found herself getting restless and moody, snapping at her undergrads and crying at commercials on TV. It was mid-October and everywhere she went there were Halloween decorations. Every cartoon spider and every fake web stuck out to Belle, leaving her in a curious emotional state, a mixture of depression and horniness.

“Honestly, Ruby, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Belle said one night when she’d been so distraught she’d actually picked up the phone to call her best friend. “I’ve never felt this weird before in my life.”

“Are you sure it’s not just PMS?” Ruby said over the sound of club music. “When are you gonna start your period?”

“Oh my God, Rubes! That’s it!” Belle fumbled in her purse for her day planner. “I’m supposed to have my period…” She didn’t finish the sentence.

Her last period had been in August. She was more than a month late.

“Oh my God, Rubes,” Belle said, in an entirely different tone than the last time she had said it. “I have to go back to Austraila.”

“The fuck for?” Ruby shouted into the phone.

Belle found herself staring at a blank space in the middle distance. She hardly believed herself as she said the words:

“I think I’m pregnant.”

#spider #rumbelle monsters ball #rumbelle fic #spiders #happy halloween

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