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kneipho · 4 years

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Sumbitted by: @mantrabay

Ballroom In The Sky.

Gazing with his mouth wide open towards a sullen evening sky dotted with jet black clouds

Geoff Wild weeps.

He was on his knees on this grass-strewn, unkempt graveyard.

Two years later and her memory still lingers.

The sudden passing of his loved one had left this middle-aged man gaunt, ashen faced and skeletal. Wild’s troubled expression had become a haunted house of uncanny notions and strange secrets waiting to flow from his water-logged eyes. Those circumstances surrounding Violet’s death were never clear.

Velvet Heart was Geoff’s courtship name for Violet.

Was it a death wish or an accidental fall from their elegant townhouse?

Death through misadventure was the colourful term used.

“Cherish all those wonderful experiences we had. Whichever one of us dies first.”

Violet actually said.

Almost as if she had some premonition.

This was six months before she passed away. .An endless see-saw of creepy dawning’s convulsed him.

Yet Wild fondly recalled when they first met at the Skyline Ballroom.

The Skyline was a battered tumbledown barn whose allure was its availability.

The chipped hardwood floor and the dusty pale cream walls with paint flakes that peeled off only confirmed its tenement status. It was known locally as the “Creaking Beam”” due to its ghostly acoustics and flickering lights. Here in this spooky venue Geoff and Violet had their earliest encounter. Wild remembered her radiant smiles.

The ripples of long dark hair, her apple blossom cheeks and of course her angelic aura..

On that night she wore a polka dot ruche dress, amethyst ear pendants, whilst sporting satin moccasins.

“Have I the gumption? The courage.

A faint heart etc.” Geoff could hear his heart flutter as he did his tightrope walk toward her.

“May I dance with you?” Geoff asked.

Velvet heart’s hands formed a lazy arch and her dainty fingers curled inwards.

“Of course. I would be delighted.” Violet spoke in that pear drop tone which beguiled everybody.

Geoff, the local journalist and writer was in seventh heaven.

They never forgot that enchanting song they first danced to, “Ballroom In The Sky.”

The song was performed by Valerie And The Blue Skies.

They weren’t very big but had a cult following..

Geoff could see how similar Violet and Valerie were.

They were mirror images of each other.

Even in speech and humour.

Valerie was based in a remote enigmatic area.

She used to refer to songs as role plays.

“You feel as though you are a member of the audience.” Valerie remarked.

Violet did admit to meeting Valerie casually and for autograph purposes but not otherwise or so it seemed.

It was amazing how “ Ballroom In The Sky” with its airy ascending rock chords and jaunty jazz lines could draw Violet, Valerie and Geoff into a peculiar triangle.

The sudden moody breaks, abrupt silences built a momentary cocoon.

Valerie’s top sideman….well, he was known as Silent Sam.

He had a track record of sorts.

Sam’s blue attire was appropriate.

He wore a large trilby hat tipped over his forehead sheltering his pointed face and pencil slim physique.

He, Sam, was short-sighted when it suited and eccentric.

Practical jokes were his forte and the impish grin.

“Yep ..Yup….or Sure.“

These were the only asides from this oddball sidemen for the most part.

He was accident prone.

Valerie had to indicate where things were. Theirs was a sign language of its own complete with slanted facial squirms.

One wondered if there was a deeper relationship between them.

Those Blue Skies airs were fillers without Sam.

Every time “Ballroom In The Sky” was played Valerie, Violet and Geoff were sharing unwittingly a secret.

The startled looks were part of this outlandish ritual.

Wild recalled now.

“Valerie could croon in a real hypnotic fashion. Everyone in the dancehall was enthralled. People would sway like ice skaters one moment, waltz in a swan-like manner the next and just as often rave in the isles like end of term teenagers.”

Geoff whispers in the graveyard.

“JUST A PASSING DREAM………..STILL SO VIVID…….DANCING IN HEAVEN…… KISSES ALL AROUND….MAGIC HAND……..A LITTLE BIT BLIND, and of course “BALLROOM IN THE SKY.”

Geoff and Violet would swing religiously to those fantasy songs every Sunday as their courtship blossomed.

“Ballroom In The Sky “ was always the highpoint.

This constellation of events occurred in a scenic nineteen seventies spot.

Despite its haunting vistas and backdrop of panoramic hills it resembled a ghost town. Openings were few against an infinite spiral of closing factories, bookstores with half-empty shelves and shopkeepers peering out of doors.

Ten years earlier it was a beacon. “I shudder to think……A jigsaw puzzle.”

Geoff surveying the cemetery.

Such memories could have been taken directly from some movie script. “Yes .. it was a hub that Skyline. Like homeless drifters, the folk who attended.”

Geoff again.

They were fugitives.

Escapees from that heavy-handed dole queue void.

Suddenly something happened.

“What the heavens is? Snap….a branch.” Momentary jitters engulfing Wild.

He shook in concert with the overarching colonnade of brown edge green leaf trees.

An eerie rustling dewdrop tiptoe now caressing Geoff’s ears.

”Up there somewhere Velvet Heart?

Dancing in the heavens?”

Nervous laughter now relief road to that traffic jam of sentiment about to speed off.

Glued to the spot that macabre sixth sense of Violet hovering above evaporates due to an illusory late evening sun shaft.

Wild could no longer hide from Valerie and Velvet Heart’s identities.

“Oh those comic jibes and piercing glances. Some ethereal intrigues were passing through the air.”

Geoff recalls with forensic clarity.

Poor Silent Sam would do his usual u-turn into the shadow.

Two months before Geoff’s and Violet’s parting, an incident occurred.

Memory is a lodger which steadfastly refuses to surrender its keys.

Valerie and the Blue Skies were in flying form as the tunes morphed into each other.

Valerie and Velvet Heart were magnets for men.

Violet caught Geoff off guard.

“Guilty conscience, there Geoff?”

Having fantasies about Valerie.

Focus on me.

As for that eternity ring remember?”

Those penetrating peepers of Violet knew how to vet a body in a flash.

“Oh no …..not at all.” Geoff with a looping

smirk.

“Just those mystical melodies working their spell.” He said.

“You came into my life like…. a new dawn.” Wild poetically.

“You honey tongue you. Geoff our song. Ballroom.” Violet mutters.

Valerie nodded towards Sam.

Her expression was a hard to decipher veil and deep code command.

“Get those fingers flying, Sam.”

In a tone almost identical to Velvet Heart.

Sam didn’t always act immediately.

“Yep.. Yup …Sure.” Sam’s stock retort.

“Ballroom In The Sky” now strong as ever cast its bewitching spell throughout the venue.

A medley was included tonight.

“SOMEONE FOR EVERYONE” ( Sam looked at Valerie), “A LITTLE BIT BLIND” ( Sam staring vacantly at both Valerie and Violet), “MIND YOUR STEP( Sam winking at Geoff while scrunching the mouth at Violet).

Violet edged toward the stage.

A dim-lit silence ensued.

Ballroom started again. Valerie and Violet now singing this tune. An eerie vacuum filled this dancehall.

A triangular crush of people occurred near the stage with Geoff in toe.

Valerie handed Violet a letter.

Sam was now talking tersely to Valerie.

A misted over photo gallery memory blur in place.

“Pst…Pst. Your Velvet Heart is back to haunt you.“ Violet’s lofty twang.

“What in the name….I can’t phantom…..fathom.” Geoff shudders.

Violet’s voice a wet whisper stretching over twigs that simultaneously tap against windows.

She pulled back an orchard pattern duvet covering Geoff.

“Fell asleep at your favourite film, The Passing Of A Velvet Heart. All those graveyard scenes shot in our small town remember?

We know Silent Sam wrote the soundtrack for the film along with Ballroom. He sings on that one.” Violet recounts.

“Incredibly you chose Velvet Heart as your courtship name for me based on the film.

The film was never a huge success but did get our area limited publicity.

Sam earned extra royalties from the soundtrack.

Valerie and Sam tying the knot next Sunday of all days.

As for that love letter you mumbled about.

It’s an invite to their secret wedding.

Very private. As Sam is.

What a time and place he chose for the invitation.

During that ethereal love song which brought us together.” Violet observes.

“Poor Sam’s a little bit blind a

on occasions or is he?

I was upstairs on the flat roof today.

Six months ago I fell off it.

You’ve never liked me being up there since.”

Violet continuing.

“Guilty secret must confess. I used to be onstage instead of Valerie.

Well, sometimes.

She was dating you pretending to be me.

We never knew each other that well but it was a dare worked out between us.“

Geoff shouted. “Hoodwinked.”

An incredulous look ripples over Wild’s pale face.

Violet’s eyes now ablaze.

“You never noticed did you? Deep down.”

The tease in Violet surfacing..

Geoff was thunderstruck.

Violet strolled towards their CD player on the mahogany table.

“Think you’ll like this one. Our song.”

Violet stated.

“May I dance with you?”

Geoff smiled. “Of course. I would be delighted.

And relieved!”

Silent Sam’s voice weaves in his own inimitable shy way a song usually sung by Valerie, his wife to be.

And sometimes Violet, or Velvet Heart.

A number that united three people in the most curious and otherworldly manner!

“Yep….Yup ….Sure.”

As Sam was in the habit of saying!

mantrabay photograph and short story copyright protected.

Thanks for reading my works

#mantrabay #submission sunday #reblog #written word #short story #fiction #submission #photographers on tumblr #photography #original photography #other #Ballroom In The Sky

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mantrabay · 3 years

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Echoes Of A Shady Past.

An icy chill descends on 13 Beaver Veil Cottage as sisters Ester and Ellie walk gingerly up the steps on this wet and windy night.

This once charming pied-a-terre was now in a final phase denouement.

The trees surrounding this house creak ominously overhead as tangled electric wires cackle in the rusty leaves.

"Night owls like us should be wary.”

Ellie sighs in a shudder as her sniffling nose warps her every word.

"Yes......Ellie, watch your every step or we could be joining our Uncle Denny and Auntie Diane in that eternal place in the sky, that is, if there is one.” Ester countered with a ghost- laden voice.

"Heavens above or heaven on earth your faith or is it fate is sealed in another world.”

Ester continued dryly.

A loose tile suddenly drops in front of both of them as they approach the rotting front door of this old period home

with its spaced windows, dripping eaves, and contoured outlines.

"Focus that torch of yours, Ellie.

Look at how evenly split those tiles are.

The hidden hand of a superior being no doubt.” The moon peeps behind the clouds almost in sync with Ester‘s edgy broadside.

Ellie smirks nervously as they both tread the damp dark hallway with its crumbling structures and sinister undertone.

“Auntie Diane and Uncle Denny used to poke fun at our squabbles when we were caring for them.

Like ourselves they were natural mimics.

They loved copycatting our voices just as we did when imitating them.”

Ellie's tone a haunting echo reverberating around the interior of this latter day cave.

"Oddly enough Diane always had her worry beads with her. But our impish banter offset her angst. Auntie’s ripples of laughter at the two of us proved that.”

Ellie once more stressing a point.

"Indeed.” Ester concurred. "Denny was more unearthly in his asides.”

Pictures, CDS and other personal belongings seemed either to appear out of nowhere or were left strewn as if they had been planted deliberately.

“Ester...where are you? My walks,...My walks....I know you are hiding on me.”

Ellie’s mischievous giggle now a misty cacophony in imitation of uncle Denny’s sonorous voice.

"The joker within me surfaces despite myself.”

Ellie deadpans.

"Joker or perhaps a lurking scruple or two.”

Ester replied as she cast her auntie Diane’s scapulars at Ellie which she had just spotted on the floor next to a Light Emission Diode gadget.

This religious object somehow missed its target.

"Far too long brewing that coffee.

Are you making that Percolator?"

Ester assuming her aunt Diane's plummy twang.

Within seconds a swirling witch's brew of Diane and Denny voices filled the air in grotesque mockery as the sisters taunt each other in rotation.

“You are holding on too tightly, Diane. I need a rest Uncle Denny.”

Ellie calls for an immediate halt to this hair-raising escapade.

“We both cared for our relatives as best we could." Ellie observes against this web of suspense.

“Diane with her plain dress sense at odds with her aura loved to drop oblique hints about delays. Oh.... and that rocking chair.”

Ellie opined. “All an act too...she was never glued to it when it suited. The sudden movements and those long- range controlling beams from her peepers.”

Ellie darkly noted.

"As for Denny and his colour scheme clothing. He was always nudging Diane when we stared at each other. They had an inkling as to when you and I would row over the Eternal Life question.....or some other state beyond this earth."

Ester her voice now saturated with the dampness of this old house.

"The 13 BEAVER VEIL BROUHAHA.”

Ester as she adds another spine-tingling quip to the proceedings.

“They loved our spats.”

Ellie whispers amid the sound of scurrying mice and sinister splish-splash of ceiling leaks.

"This hovel could still be the death of us literally.

It has decayed since our last visit.”

The sisters' voices now merge as one.

For whatever reason Ellie seemed to be curiously familiar with this dwelling despite the fact that it was supposed to be their first visit in six months.

Ester’s suspicions had been heightened every minute they spent in this abode.

Diane and Denny had a special sense of attachment to this house despite the best wishes of their caretakers.

The elders revelled in this old home and its ghastly....indeed ghostly choir of sounds from the mists of time.

"Have you the gumption to climb these stairs?

After all, the way things are going this could be our last chance to peer around Diane and Denny's rooms."

Ellie’s wet croak vent in the ascendant.

"Wouldn't be too sure about the lights unless there's Divine Light.”

Ester and Ellie jostling with each other.

A pregnant silence ensued followed by spooky giggles.

Ester and Ellie climb the stairs carefully eyeing their surroundings while they take big gulps of dank mould air.

This was no time for either to lose their balance.

Suddenly a burst of thunder and a scattered moonlit beam meld with Ester’s frightened shriek.

"Ellie, am I seeing things? It's the rocking chair. Is that where you left it the last time?.....on the top of the stairs." Ester now frantic.

"Now you might believe in a higher power ,,,er...gosh.” Gasps Ellie.

"There's a faint outline in the chair. Apparition or spirit.” Ellie again.

"Where's my tea? Aren't you going to read to me? Are you two still at it?”

Diane's voice or its like as it flits from spot to spot.

"Ellie please not now ….oh no is that Denny?”

Ester was almost possessed.

Denny was seemingly speaking through her in retaliation.

"I'm here, those delays, feeling guilty are we?” Was I that much trouble?”

The rocking chair was tilting back and forth as if it was about to tumble.

The ceiling plaster crashes as Ellie and Ester grab each other before heading back downstairs.

They dash to the front door which Ellie had forgotten to shut.

It looked as if the door was going to close of its own accord.

The rocking chair was now at the foot of the stairs as they just managed to squeeze past the closing door without being trapped.

Just!

" Keep running.”

Ellie her words nearly choking her.

Out the gate and down the main road they fled against a bizarre backdrop of strange whirlpool noises emanating from the house they had barely escaped.

"Phew that was close....I never want that experience again." Ester blurts.

“You seemed to know the house much better than I did?" Ester again in an arched tone.

“You haven't been out there by yourself within the last six months?"

Ester posing the question again suspiciously.

"Oh.....oh...no….that God is my witness.”

Ellie gleams with her ironic religious retort.

And the moon peeps out again from behind the clouds as Ellie and Ester continue to flee.

Their fearful laughter mingling with beads of sweat that segue into the frost encrusted air for miles around.

Photograph and short story copyright protected by mantrabay

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vintage-story-time · 3 years

Text

Family Peepers by David Crane

Chapter 1

Virginia Hightower was giving her teenaged son a good look at her

pussy, and getting really turned on in the process. She had always been

an exhibitionist and had been thinking a great deal about exposing

herself to the youth, but this was the first time she had actually done

it.

Her husband and daughter had both gone out and Virginia was alone in

the house with Jimmy. The handsome boy had been sitting in the living

room, reading a magazine, and Virginia had decided that this was the

time to make her fantasies reality. She knew that Jimmy was a horny

young man, because she had found sticky evidence of hand-jobs on his

bed sheets and in the bathroom. She knew it would excite him

tremendously to sneak a look at her cunt and that, in turn, excited

Virginia.

She had undressed upstairs, first, removing the slacks and sweater that

concealed her voluptuous body. Then she had drawn black silk stockings

up her shapely legs and fastened them to a sexy garter belt. She had

selected a frilly, semi-transparent negligee and drawn that over her

naked form, then stood before the full-length mirror, admiring herself

and imagining just how her son would react to the sight.

Virginia, in her mid-thirties, was still every bit as sexy as she had

been in her promiscuous teenage years. It made her hot just to look at

herself, narcissism combining with her exhibitionist tendencies. Her

green eyes glowed as she gazed at her reflection. The silken negligee

clung to her curves, draped from her big, thrusting tits. Her stiff

nipples stood out in twin peaks on the creamy mounds and she could

faintly see the ovals of her areolas through the material. Her eyes

lowered and she smiled, noticing that the outline of her bushy cunt

mound could also be glimpsed through the semi-transparent and

provocative garment.

She turned and looked back over her shoulder, pleased by the way the

negligee clung to her heart-shaped ass. Turning to face the mirror

again, she slowly drew the hem of her nightie up her flat belly,

exposing her golden pussy triangle. Her crotch was a jungle of curly

blonde hair, spreading out widely across her loins.

She dipped at the knees and parted her thighs, staring at her pussy.

Her cunt lips were unfurled like the petals of a moist, fleshy flower.

Her open slot was creamy and her stiff clit stood out like a stump in a

swamp.

Virginia slid a hand up the sleek flesh of her inner thigh, then

brushed her fingertips across her pussy. She shuddered at the

sensation. Her lush hips jerked and she pumped her belly in and out in

a fucking motion as she lovingly fingered her tingling clit.

"Ummmm" she purred as that stiff nugget swelled and rippled against her

caressing fingers.

Although she had a handsome husband with a huge prick and plenty of

sexual stamina, Virginia still finger-fucked herself a lot. She enjoyed

her own body, her own private caresses. But then, Virginia was a woman

who enjoyed anything and everything that had to do with sex.

Her heavy mane of blonde hair cascaded over her high cheekbones as she

tossed her head, her face contorted into a mask of desire. Her green

eyes were narrowed to slits, the long lashes fluttering, and her

sensual lips were slack. She started to pant and her big tits thrust

out, as if they were being inflated by the fat valves of her nipples.

Tilting her wrist, she slowly inched her middle finger up into her

fuck-hole. Her pussy muscles pulled and sucked. She pushed her finger

in to the knuckle and wriggled it around inside her steaming cunt.

She pushed her belly out towards the mirror and tilted her groin up, so

that she could see her finger as it fucked in and out of her gash. She

began to shove all four fingers up her pussy, brushing the edge of her

thumb back and forth across her clit at the same time.

Waves of pleasure shot across her slender belly and ran like electric

currents up her thighs. She bunched her fingers together in a phallic

shape and fucked them all the way up her cunt hole, grinding against

them. Her cunt lips spread wider and a wash of pearly pussy nectar

gushed out, soaking her hand and wrist.

When she pulled her fingers out of her cunt. That hairy bowl remained

spread in a wide oval and she could look right up her fuck-tunnel. The

darker inner folds were all lathered with cunt juices. A slimy trickle

of the creamy stuff ran down her crotch and seeped into the crack of

her ass. Shimmering ribbons unwound down her thighs.

Virginia brought her creamy fingers up to her lips and licked at them.

The taste of her own pussy juice tingled on her tongue, thrilling her.

She dipped her hand back into her cunt, then brought it up to her mouth

again. Her fingers slid up her fuck-hole all wet with her saliva and

pushed into her mouth, drenched with cunt cream.

Caressing her pussy made her feel so good that Virginia was sorely

tempted to frig herself off.

But then she remembered that Jimmy was downstairs and that she had

decided it was time to give the boy a good flash. How wonderful it

would be to feel the teenaged boy's hot eyes on her body! How excited

her display would make him, and her.

She wondered if Jimmy ever thought about her when he was beating his

meat. She hoped so. And if he hadn't before, she was damned sure that

he would after he'd had a long look at her pussy.

Virginia, radiant and glowing with anticipation, gave her cunt a last

stroke, squirming against her hand. And then she went downstairs to

fulfill her fantasies.

Jimmy was slouched in an armchair, idly flipping through the pages of a

sports magazine and feeling rather bored. He wished that he had a

girlfriend, in particular, a girlfriend who would fuck. Jimmy was still

a virgin, and quite inexperienced. He had dated a few naughty girls who

had let him feel their tits and one very naughty girl who even let him

have a feel of her pussy, but that was the extent of the horny lad's

sex life. Frantic with puberty, he jerked off frequently and with

regularity. He usually beat his meat first thing in the morning, still

groggy with sleep so that the hand-job had a dreamlike quality. And he

almost always jerked off as soon as he got into bed at night. And quite

often he enjoyed a hand-job during the course of the day. Jerking off

was a lonely occupation, but it served to take the pressure off his

cock and balls. It was better than nothing.

He heard his mother come into the room but didn't look up from the

magazine. Virginia came over and stood behind his chair. Jimmy was glad

that he was reading a wholesome sports magazine instead of a girly

magazine as the woman leaned over his shoulder.

Her fat tits brushed against his neck.

Jimmy tensed. He could feel the stiff tips of his mom's tits brush

against him. He blushed, embarrassed by his own reactions. Obviously

his mother didn't realize what she was doing to him. She probably still

thought that he was an innocent child, he guessed. Wild images flashed

through his fevered brain. As an infant, he had nursed on those big

nipples--and how he would love to nurse on them again!

Virginia rubbed her tits against him for a moment, pretending to be

taking an interest in his reading matter. Then she moved away. As she

crossed the room, Jimmy stared at her swinging ass. He could see the

indentation of the crack between her ass cheeks quite clearly through

her nightie and he gulped. His big prick, a blessing that he had

inherited from his robust daddy, gave a lurch.

Jimmy blushed again, ashamed and embarrassed at getting a hard-on over

his mother. That was real naughty, he knew, but all the more thrilling

because of it.

His cock hardened and rose up inside his jeans like a fleshy lever and

his balls ballooned between his legs. He glanced down and saw that the

outline of his hard-on was very obvious. He hoped his mom didn't

notice! But how could he hide a huge cock-bulge like that in his skin-

tight jeans? The boy felt trapped and panicky. If his mother stayed in

the room, he just couldn't get up from the chair without revealing his

booming hard-on. He lowered the magazine into his lap, shielding his

disgrace.

Virginia curled gracefully onto the couch. Pretending to be looking at

the television, she drew one leg up, her knee bent. She squirmed

around, as if getting comfortable, and managed to slide the hem of her

negligee higher over her lush hips, as if by accident.

Jimmy gaped at her, unable to conceal his fascination. His eyes bunged,

his jaw dropped open wide and beads of sweat dotted his brow.

The way she was sitting, with one knee raised, Jimmy could look right

up her nightie! He could see her bushy cunt mound and, in the shadows,

glimpse a flash of pink pussy lips. The boy's head spun. So much blood

had rushed into the building of his enormous hard-on that his brain was

starved for oxygen.

Virginia sneaked a sideways glance at her son and smiled as she noted

his reaction to her display. Still feigning an interest in the

television, she wriggled around a bit. She arched her back, thrusting

her stiff-tipped tits out. Jimmy's eyes shifted to her tits for a

moment, then dropped back onto her creamy crotch.

Why was his mom's cunt all wet?

His prick was pounding and pumping wildly. The magazine vibrated in his

lap. He placed his hand on it to stop the motion and felt his prick

jump vigorously. He was afraid he was going to cream his jeans. How

embarrassing that would be, with his mom in the room!

Virginia scratched lightly at the sleek flesh of her inner thigh,

raising the hem of her negligee a bit higher in the process. She was

really enjoying this situation, thrilled at how much she was turning

Jimmy on. Her pussy rippled, as if the boy were caressing her with his

gaze. More pearly cunt juice oozed from her fuck-slot.

Now Virginia was as desperate to get her rocks off as her son was!

Jimmy was trapped in his chair by the prominence of his hard-on, and

Virginia felt as if her body were glued to the couch by her soaking

cunt. She watched his prick pound under the magazine and her pussy

rippled as spasms of pure lust rushed through her loins.

She had known that it would be exciting to flash her pussy to her son,

but she hadn't expected it to make her this fucking horny! If she sat

there much longer, she knew that she was going to cream, that her

steaming cunt was going to just melt all by itself.

Virginia figured that it had gone on long enough. She simply had to

leave the room now, both to relieve herself and to give the horny

teenager a chance to jerk off. She got up slowly. She could hear her

cunt squash between her thighs and wondered if Jimmy, too, had heard

that moist sound. Her legs felt limp as she moved towards the doorway,

and her cunt was like a smoldering ember in her crotch. She wouldn't

have been surprised if her pussy had suddenly ignited, bursting into

flames, except, of course, that her creamy pussy was much too wet to

burn!

With her lovely ass swinging sensually, Virginia left the room with her

son staring after her, looking stunned. She paused in the hallway,

breathing heavily. Her face was radiant with arousal, her body glowing

in the dim light. She was amazed by her own fiery passion. She didn't

think that she had ever been so hot before, not even on that memorable

evening when, as a teenager, she had sucked off the whole basketball

team, one right after the other.

She started towards the stairs, then paused again.

It dawned on her that maybe Jimmy was going to pump his prick right

there in the living room.

She smiled with trembling lips.

She had given the boy a stimulating sight, now it was her turn to enjoy

a performance!

#Family Peepers by David Crane #Chapter 1

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ninjakasuga · 4 years

Text

Sonal Celebration Week Submission: Reunion

In case Tumblr ate my direct submission to @boundforfreedomsonsal I’m also posting my submission myself with the Tumblr tagged. So finally the celebration is here, and here’s my first submission. Taking place around issue 50 of the Archie-series, this is my take on when Sonic woke Sally up. As well as my own fanfic head-canon injection where I personally feel after all the kerfuffle with Endgame, Sonic and Sally got their confessions out and started the road to being a couple there. Instead of the long, convoluted delayed process, we fans had to wait nearly ten years to see to fruition.

REUNION:

The only sound was the crunching of leaves under Sonic’s shoes after he slowed down upon reaching the memorial. His heart instantly ached at the sight of it, despite knowing from Doctor Quack that Sally wasn’t dead. However, the sight of her ‘viewing’ memorial and her body resting in the clear-view casket, just hammered home what was his reality until a few minutes ago. His heart was hammering in his chest. The closer he got, his brain reminding him of the water-fowl doctor’s words. ‘She’s alive, but in a coma. Her tenacious will-power probably saved her life as much as her getting medical attention quickly. However, while Sally’s body has mended, I have no clue if and when she will wake up.’

Sonic himself had been advised to stay in bed given how utterly fatigued he had been through the entire ‘Endgame’ fiasco as everyone was calling Sally’s seeming death, his frame-job, and Robotnik’s near victory which ended in his defeat. Shuddering Sonic looked at his hands, they still tingled from impacting on the fatso’s face, and by God, if the Ultimate Annihilator hadn’t taken out Robuttnik; he was ready to end him himself. A thought that scared him to the core, especially on how he still felt okay with the act if had taken Robotnik’s life.

Guess luck was looking out for him, and maybe, just maybe luck would hold out again.

As he reached the see-through casket, a disguised medical pod, his mind snapped back to the here and now. Sally looked so peaceful, so, very dead. He knew she wasn’t, but the brief flicker of thought made his heart jump, and his breathing increase for a moment. All the pent up emotions were wanting to spill out, but he held them in. Focusing back on his task, Sonic found the latches sealing the casket and input the combination code into the five buttons Doctor Quack had given him. After the code was inputted, a soft but potent ‘hiss’ sound could be heard as the casket was unsealed and could now be opened as he wished. Grasping the edge of the container, he pulls open the clear-top, which flipped open from the bottom before automatic hinges locked the canopy into place.

Looking down upon Sally’s form, he could now see clearly, she was breathing, but very shallowly. His gaze briefly went up to the clear-canopy of her viewing casket. He had to give kudos to Doctor Quack for installing some weird, trick into the thing that hid the fact Sally was breathing from anyone who came to pay their respects. If he hadn’t pulled out all the stops, Robotnik would have undoubted discovered the ruse and finished the job Snively set into motion through Drago and Hershey. Kneeling down, he reached out, softly touching her auburn hair, and gently began to caress it. Sally always had such soft hair, even when the humidity of the summer would frizzle it to heck, somehow she still kept it silky soft. Smiling Sonic trailed his hand down to her face, feeling those adorable cheek tufts, and very, very happy he could feel the warmth of her body under her fur. Another much-needed indicator she was alive, which helped set his still hammer-beating heart at ease to some degree.

As a soft breeze blew past him, the blue hedgehog stared at the Princess’ sleeping face, wishing her eyes would open. The last few days of thinking she had died weighed on him all the things he never got to say to her, the regrets of not having gotten to say such things to her. The denial of things to come, things he at the time felt he’d taken for granted that they would come in due time, only there was no time. Now, she was alive, but would she even wake up so he could make good on doing all those things he should have already said and made clear.

Life was too short, and thankfully he’d be given another chance, and if she’d only wake up, he’d make good on telling her everything he’d always felt. With a long sigh exhaling from his lips he looks down upon Sally’s peacefully, sleeping figure again as a stray thought crossed his mind.

“No way it’d work, just stupid story-book mumbo-jumbo…” He muttered to himself, but yet at the same time, what else did he have to lose? Stranger things have come true in his short life. Grasping the edges of the casket, Sonic leaned over, planting a soft kiss to Sally’s cheek, murmuring softly, almost pleadingly, hoping it might awaken her. “I love you, Sally, please come back to us, to me.” Pulling back from the kiss, he sat on his knees at her side, watching her, and unsurprised nothing happened. That’s what you get for putting hope in fairytale nonsense.

Just as Sonic was about to pick up Sally to take her back to the hospital, someplace less out in the open, he saw her eyebrows furrow and twitch. His breath caught in his throat as he saw more signs of Sally stirring awake. “Sal?” He asked quietly, hope slowly blooming into his tone. Her mouth opened and a low groan escaped, followed by her mouth smacking together as if she was trying to get rid of morning dry-ness of the throat. The cute ears on top of her head twitched, and her fingers began to move, unclasping from the pose she was placed in, and resting on the bottom of the casket. With a smooth, if slow motion, Sally pushed herself up into a sitting position; flinching as if the motion caused her a brief bout of pain.

“Ahh…” Her voice was scratchy and parched, but clearly hers. Finally, her eyelids managed to force themselves open, and Sonic soon found those beautiful blue peepers looking into his own as Sally craned her head causing their gazes to meet at last. Her gaze turned to one of concern as she saw Sonic’s expression along with big-wet tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Sonic? Is that you? What’s wrong, are you okay-?” Sally’s words of confusion turned to concern and were soon interrupted as she found herself caught up in a big hug that threatened to expel the contents of her lungs as she found herself gasping for air.

“YOU’RE AWAKE!” Sonic cried, standing up fully with Sally in his arms, swinging her around as he both laughed and cried happily in pure, unadulterated joy.

“S-Sonic! A-air, can’t breathe!” Gasped the squirrel-munk as the blue hedgehog spun her around, adding a bit of dizziness to her lack of oxygen.

Realizing this, Sonic quickly sets her on her feet and lets go of her, but his hands instantly snatch hers and hold on. As if afraid letting go would allow her to disappear. “Sorry Sal! I just-I just…” His words trailed off as his voice broke. Unable to really say anything he just smiled at her. “J-just glad you’re back.”

Shaking her head, she gently pulls her hands from his and cups his face, looking concerned. “What happened Sonic? You never cry unless something big happened.”

Sniffling the hedgehog wiped his eyes, trying to dry his tears. “We all thought you were dead.”

Staring at him blankly, Sally couldn’t speak as it felt like a lump was in her throat, but she somehow managed after a few beats. “Dead?!” Her tone started off incredulous but as she looked about, one look at the memorial site told her Sonic wasn’t blowing things out of proportion. Putting a hand to her head, Sally wracked her brain and slowly recalled falling down the cut rope. “I fell, that’s right I fell, my rope was cut.”

With a nod, Sonic explained everything. Her near-death experience, his being framed for her murder, Robotnik’s plans, and all the little bits and pieces that fit into each puzzle-piece slot to make up the entire affair. Once Sonic finished, Sally stood staring briefly before moving closer and hugging him tightly.

“I’m so sorry Sonic, that you went through all that.”

Accepting the hug, Sonic fought the urge to squeeze her again and nuzzled against her face, unable to help himself. Luckily for him, Sally didn’t see to mind. “I’m just glad you’re alive, that’s all that matters.” Being able to hold her again alone made what he went through worth it alone. “We’ll catch ya’ up to speed. Gonna have lots to do especially as Buttnik’s gone for good.”

A soft smile formed on her beautiful face, as Sally exhaled gently. “I still can scarcely believe it. It-it’s really over isn’t it?” It was like a dream, and she prayed to whatever deity was listening this wasn’t the case. In fact, Sally reached down to her own wrist and pinched the skin under her fur. After a brief flash of pain, followed by a wince. Once nothing seemed to have changed, she let out a sound of relief. “I’m not dreaming am I?” “Not at all,” Sonic replied all smiles. “So the war’s over, we can stop fighting, well mostly.” With a nod and a shrug Sonic quipped. “Minus whatever under-bosses Buttnik left lying around Snotly, yeah we’re good.”

Both enjoy a much-needed chuckle, breaking the hug and just staring at one another. Recalling his earlier despair and regret for not ‘saying’ things to Sally, Sonic swallowed a hard lump in his throat and took her hands into his again. “Sally I gotta say something to you.”

Curious and intrigued, Sally grasped his hands, giving a friendly and assuring squeeze back. “Oh? What is it Sonic?”

It was now or never, he’d thought of this moment often. Of the various lines he could say, maybe even whip out his guitar and sing a rock-ballad; any and every avenue he’d entertained this moment in his brain for some time. Yet now; he couldn’t find any of his prior ideas truly worth their salt in conveying this moment.

So Sonic did what he did best, and improvised. “Sally I love you, I always have and I want you to know that!!” His words came out fast, yet were clear enough to be heard clearly despite the nervous-tick in his tone. Almost as soon as his confession came out, Sonic began to sweat and panic internally. Did he screw up by not being flowery, and all that mushy stuff girls were supposed to like? As this internal panic began to wreak his mind; he almost failed to take notice of Sally’s response.

The Princess’ eyes first went wide as her jaw began slack, staring at Sonic, to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Did she hear Sonic correctly? “Say it again Sonic, please.” She begged, her own heart beating loudly in her ears.

Sally’s words snapped Sonic out of his initial panic, and upon seeing those beautiful baby-blues looking at him inquiringly, he nodded as he mustered his courage and confidence. “I love you Sally Acorn, I always have.” Lifting her hands he placed both on his chest, allowing her to feel his widely beating heart. He felt her fingers curl in his chest fur, a sensation that almost distracted him from talking it felt so nice. “I don’t know when, but...I just knew it, we’ve been together since we were in diapers. You’re my best friend and without you in my life, it would suck a lot.” Licking his lips, he fought back any nervous lumps trying to make talking difficult. “I love you, and I need you in my life Sal-I, I thought I lost you and I can’t… I can’t let a day go by without letting you know.”

Sonic again found himself worried he screwed up as Sally’s eyes misted over and Tears began to leak from them. “Sal? D-did I say something-MMMPH?!” Now it was his turn to be interrupted, as Sally pulled him close, her arms now firmly around his neck and her lips over his. Soon Sonic’s eyes slowly close and he returned the kiss; his own arms wrapping around her waist and held her close as their bodies almost seemed to shift and rub together perfectly. Slowly the kiss evolved, becoming much more explicit as each opened their mouths, letting their tongues intertwine as a surging heat-formed between them. Not a sexual one, that was there but not prominently, this was the heat between two hearts that had found their way to one another.

Soon the kiss ended, and both parted, staring at one another as they tried to catch their breath. Sally recovered first, smiling warmly at Sonic as she brought a hand up to cup his cheek. “I love you too Sonic Hedgehog, always since I can remember.” Like him, she kept her words simple, any prior ‘showy’ confession was pushed aside in lieu of simple, direct but heartfelt. “Whatever is coming over the horizon I want to meet it with you at my side.”

“And you mine.” He smiled widely, like her he now had tears of joy in his eye. The two lean forward, resting their foreheads together as they basked at the moment. Robotnik might be gone, but the war was not yet over; and who knows what threats may lay over the next hill or around the bend.

Whatever was to come, they would face it together, now and forever.

#Sonsal #Sonally #Sonic the Hedgehog #Princess Sally Acorn #romance #prompt #Endgame #Archie-Sonic

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the-original-b · 4 years

Text

Archangel: High Society

Format: Prose / Fiction, one-shot

Word Count: c. 8,400

Krueger and Khai embark on a rescue operation deep in enemy territory, where they come face to face with a dangerous foe.

Warning(s): blood, violence, brief nudity

Khai sat at the conference room desk buried in charts and reports, long after everyone else had left the office. She thought she would get better at it with time, but long after Simon’s passing her work as the Manhattan Branch’s controller hadn’t gotten any easier.

Somehow it seemed more difficult after the promotion was made formal just a few short weeks ago.

She leaned back in the old chair and sighed, resting her glasses on the stack of papers that never seemed to shrink. She shut her eyes and rubbed her eyelids with her thumb and first finger as she wondered how the Partners could ever think she was even remotely qualified to run the place.

The ringing phone was a welcome distraction. She straightened up and answered without putting her spectacles back on. “Elizabeth Khai’s office,” she answered. She still wasn’t used to saying that.

“Liz?” the man on the other end said. His age added a rasp to his voice. “Chuck Silvio. Congratulations again on your promotion.”

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Silvio.” She relaxed a little, leaning back in the chair again and crossing her legs. “It’s been a while, how are you these days?”

“Not bad, not bad. The Miami weather’s good for me.”

“I bet,” she said with a chuckle. In her mind’s eye she could see him leaning back in his chair at the office, mirroring her posture. She turned in her chair to watch the rain drops streak down the window overlooking Sixth Avenue. “Beats the hell out of the cold rain.”

“Oh, it gets plenty wet here too,” he commented, matching her laugh. “Trust me.”

“I’ll take your word for it… So, what can I do for you?”

“You remember my little shithead son, right?”

“CJ? Of course.” Khai reached out for her glasses and put them back on one-handed. “As I recall, Specialist Krueger and I helped him out of a mess with the Company last year.”

“And I can’t thank you two enough for that,” Silvio added. “Really… But those connections don’t wash away so easy. The Jackass is going to some kind of get-together in Williamsburg, Virginia,” he began. “A big gala on the water at the end of the week.”

“Williamsburg is Company territory,” Khai noted. “You think they’re trying him again?”

“Not a doubt in my mind,” he said, “and I need to borrow Mr. Krueger to get him out of another mess.”

“He’s cleaning up a snafu in Cape Cod,” Khai noted, consulting her desktop calendar partially obscured by a takeout container from Tillman’s in which sat a half-eaten steak sandwich and handful of fries. “He should be back tomorrow night, but I’m not certain as to what his schedule looks like afterward.”

“I talked to Isaac,” Silvio said. “He’ll be available.”

Khai offered a shrug as if he could see it. “Well, alright..! I’ll get him in the schedule and make the arrangements.”

“Perfect,” Silvio said as Khai keyed the password to her desktop computer. “One of my guys got his hands on a few tickets, we can have one overnighted to you.” She summoned Krueger’s calendar to enter his travel dates.

She paused before saving the entry and leaned back in her chair again. “Say, do you think you can send two tickets up here?”

“Thinking about attending a waterside gala, Miss Khai?” His smirk was audible.

“I did pick up this lovely gown the other day,” she jested. “I need an excuse to wear it… I can have Everett keep an eye on things while I’m away.”

“I’m sure he’d be happy to cover for you while you’re out having some fun,” Silvio chuckled. “I’ll send a pair of tickets up to the Branch. Thanks again for this, Liz.”

“You’re very welcome, Mr. Silvio. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” Khai hit the lever in the phone’s cradle to end the call with Silvio, then released it to dial his number.

He answered after a few rings. “Good evening, Miss Khai,” he said.

“Hello, there,” she charmed. “You feel like taking me someplace nice this weekend?”

~~~~

Krueger reviewed the fabric samples the tailor offered him, and after narrowing down his selection for the outer layer to a solid black and textured medium gray, revisited the options for the lining. “Do you do waistcoats as well?” he asked the tailor.

“Certainly,” he replied.

Krueger nodded. He looked over his shoulder at Khai, in the room with them with her gown folded over her arms. He picked a few fabric samples up off the table and held them out in front of him, lining them up with the portion of the gown he could see from where he stood. He shut one eye as he scrutinized each sample; each of them matched the shade of her gown almost perfectly. “What shoes will you be wearing?” he asked her.

“The black ankle strap round-toes,” she said. “With the red soles.”

Krueger knew them. That narrowed his decision down. “This one,” he said, handing it to the tailor.

“Excellent choice,” he noted. He jotted the selections down in his note pad. “What style did you want for them?”

“British.”

“And the fit?”

“Modern.”

“And that’s two buttons, yes? The same as before?”

“Two buttons, that’s right,” Krueger nodded. “I’ll need a shirt as well.”

“Of course,” the tailor said. “Give me a moment and I’ll return with the samples.” The tailor took his leave with his notes.

Shortly after he left, another person entered the room—a brown-skinned man in his early thirties with a ten day beard. “Sorry you guys,” he said. “Collision on the Belt Parkway took out the left lane.”

“No worries, Brandon. We haven’t left yet.”

Krueger arched a brow at their newcomer.

“Oh, right,” Khai noted, “you two haven’t formally met… Milo this is Brandon Desmoulins, my tech expert out of Brooklyn.”

“The one who decrypted Orham’s files?” Krueger said, offering the man a hand to shake. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“No, the honor is mine, Mr. Krueger.” Brandon shook Krueger’s hand, then reached into his jacket pocket to pull a pair of two-by-six inch slivers of card stock. Khai recognized them as the gala tickets. “They’re usually keyed to the individuals who purchased them, but our guys in the Southeast Region were able to wipe these two. Which means,” he continued as he retrieved his laptop from his backpack, “We got a pair of blank slates for you guys.” He opened the computer and took a seat at the table.

“Well,” Khai said, taking a spot beside Krueger as she looked over Brandon’s shoulder at the monitor, “I’ve never been somebody else before, so why not?”

“You can be the Queen of England if you like.”

“Sure,” Khai scoffed. “I’m the spitting image of her.”

“You know,” Krueger jested. “I think I see it. Turn your head a little…”

“Oh, like this..?” she added laughing to herself. “And you, Sebastian?”

“Not this time,” he noted. “The Company knows Sebastian Weber. They said my eyes gave me away in Miami, I’ll need a disguise as well as a new name.”

Brandon turned in his seat to look at him. “You look like a Michael to me.” He brought his hand to his lip as he considered naming him. “Michael Fff… Fuchs.”

Krueger shrugged. “That works.”

“Mike Fuchs it is,” Brandon declared. He loaded one of the tickets into a fist-sized portable printer and keyed in Krueger’s new alias. In moments, the device wrote a barcode and etched the name into the document’s face. “Hope you like it, cos it’s too late to change. As for the peepers, we should be able to get you contact lenses pretty easily.”

Krueger nodded. “The more common the color the better.”

“Can’t go wrong with brown ones… and you.” He turned over his other shoulder to look at Khai. “I’m thinking Samantha. Samantha…”

“Nguyen,” she suggested.

“Good as anything else, I guess.” He loaded Khai’s ticket into the printer and coded it to her new identity. When the printer was done he presented them their tickets. “There we go—Michael Fuchs and Samantha Nguyen. Just a pair of run-of-the-mill socialites and definitely not high ranking members of the Marlow Partners’ organization.”

Khai took the tickets and studied them before handing Krueger his. “Nice work as always.”

“For you two, nothing but the best.” He shut his laptop and returned it to his backpack. “There is one more thing—I keyed in Vizier Status to those tickets, it’ll let you carry a pistol on the premises. Probably not necessary, but if you guys are going into the lions’ den, I figured you’d prefer to be armed.”

“Good thinking,” Krueger nodded.

Khai checked the clock on the far wall. “Don’t know if we’ll have time to head to the armory today—”

“No need,” Krueger said. “I know exactly what I’ll take for this one—the Five-Seven. With hollow points.”

“Not the armor penetrators?”

“I’d like to avoid collateral damage,” he said. “Even there.”

Khai couldn’t disagree with his logic. “Fair enough. I’ll just have to swing by after hours and see what I’ll be able to conceal in this.”

The tailor returned to the room with another collection of fabrics. “Here we are,” he said. “Given what I understand about this gathering, I went ahead and narrowed down the usual selection.”

Krueger walked over to view what was offered. Immediately he was drawn to a textured sanguine red.

“Do you like that one?”

“I do,” Krueger admitted. “But that’s not what we’re here for today…” He redirected his glance to something more conservative and examined the samples. “Can you conceal the buttons?”

“I certainly can. What color do you want for them?”

“Black.”

Khai leaned against the table beside Brandon as she observed the two of them, her gown still folded over her arms. “So,” she said to him.

“So..?”

“So does he live up to your expectations?”

“Honestly?” Brandon returned with a whisper. “I thought he would be taller.”

~~~~~~

Krueger opened his door and stepped out of the limousine when the driver brought the vehicle to a stop. He offered Khai his hand and helped her out of the car as they walked up the red carpet to an elegant villa overlooking the James River, nestled in the heart of a luxurious resort and golf club. A black evening shawl rested on her shoulders beneath her hair and draped over her contours, drawing any onlookers’ eyes to her crimson long sleeve gown with a thigh-high slit up the right side. She traded her usual eyewear for contact lenses and colored her lips the same shade as the gown. Her shoes called attention to Krueger’s outfit—a black suit and tie over a crisp white shirt and crimson waistcoat with a subdued black print.

Together they approached the open front door of the venue, where they presented their invitations to the staffer there. He reviewed their tickets and asked if they were carrying; Krueger opened his jacket to expose the Five-Seven tucked in the holster under his left arm. The staffer cleared them for entry and directed them to the coat check a few yards into the foyer, where Khai deposited her shawl and looked up a grand stair case that split toward the top as it led to the second floor.

“No hassle so far,” she noted sotto voce.

“Don’t let your guard down,” Krueger whispered as they went deeper into the building and found their way to the main atrium. “We’re in the hornets’ nest now.”

Khai took a breath as she beheld the main atrium, an ornately decorated love letter to excess and decadence. Marble columns stretched from floor to ceiling in each of the room’s four corners, and a gargantuan crystal chandelier dangled from the center to illuminate the room. Bicolor marble tiles covered the entire floor space, and the walls were adorned with recreations of famous paintings watching over the tables and dance floor. Finally a huge pair of French doors opened up to a terrace overlooking the water and setting sun, where there were likely more food and drink stations to satisfy the patrons there.

“Remember,” he continued, “we’re here for Silvio.”

“Right,” she nodded. “I remember.” She scanned the room some more, noting the food stations along one wall ending in a carving table, and the well-appointed bar opposite them. “It’s just a shame we have to be here for work.”

“Well,” Krueger smirked, resting his hand on her hip to pull her closer, “maybe Michael Fuchs and Samantha Nguyen can return and spend a week on the resort grounds someday.”

“Don’t you go giving me ideas now…” She brushed her hand on the small of his back as she took a few steps deeper into the room. “We’ll cover more ground if we spit up to work the room.”

“I’ll start outside,” Krueger said, and they went their separate ways to look for CJ Silvio.

They met up at the inside bar after a futile forty minutes. Khai ordered a glass of pinot noir while Krueger ordered a gin martini. “Did you fare any better than me?” he asked her, leaning against the mahogany finish.

Khai shook her head after thanking the bartender for her wine and taking a sip. “His father said he would be here.”

“Is he usually late to gatherings like this?”

“I don’t think he’s ever been to a gathering like this,” she jested, turning around and leaning against the bar top to look at the room again. “Way too classy an audience for him—” her eyes widened and jaw gaped for a moment before springing around to turn her back to the room and mouthing “shit..!”

“What is it?”

“White tux,” she responded with an almost inaudible whisper. “Don’t look.”

Krueger discreetly scanned the room to try and spot the person or thing that so completely and immediately terrified her. “I think I see him,” he said, matching her tone. “Tall, gray, handsome fellow?”

“That’s Osiris. In the flesh.”

Krueger turned back to face Khai and accept his cocktail. “Am I supposed to know who that is?”

“Roland Preston,” she explained, maintaining her volume. “He controls Company operations across the entire Eastern Seaboard and as far west as Chicago. He’s every bad day Isaac and Charles ever had.” She paused to consider the implications of his presence. “If he’s here for the same reason we are…”

“Then we better find CJ first,” Krueger surmised.

Khai nodded. “Alright, new plan,” she said as she straightened herself up and took another sip of wine to collect herself. “We stick together.” She took Krueger’s hand and led him toward the French doors and the terrace beyond them. “We stay out of his sight, find someplace with good visibility to look for Silvio, then collect him and get out of here.”

“And if Osiris finds him before we do?”

Khai took a breath. “Then I hope you have more bullets than there are bodyguards in this place.”

The two of them stayed on the terrace overlooking the water for the remainder of cocktail hour, and when the time came for them to find their seats they quietly made their way to a table near the dance floor with a good view of the bar. As Krueger understood, they would have the best chance of spotting CJ Silvio from there.

About twenty minutes into the reception, his wager paid off. He spotted CJ Silvio, dressed in a neat black suit and tie, nearly running after a blonde woman in a short dress on his way to the bar. It was obvious to Krueger that this woman wanted nothing to do with him anymore, and it appeared Young Silvio was looking to redeem himself after some unseen slight. After a short while he gave up and turned to get the bartender’s attention.

“I think we should order a drink,” he said, subtly gesturing the bar.

Khai followed his nod to the person in question. “Good idea.”

She stood up shortly after him and followed Krueger toward their target, but they were intercepted by a tall, classically handsome green eyed man with gray swept-back hair and manicured mustache. “And here I thought I was well-dressed this evening, then you two come along and show me up so elegantly.” He addressed them with a rich, honeyed voice, wearing a white tuxedo jacket and dark slacks with a crisp black bowtie. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said, offering Khai his hand. “Roland Preston. This is my gala.”

Khai discreetly swallowed her terror and flashed him a warm smile. “I wondered whose party this was!” she extolled. “Samantha Nguyen,” she said, shaking his hand. “And this is my partner, Michael.”

Krueger followed her lead, keeping CJ in sight. “Michael Fuchs,” he introduced himself. “This is a lovely party,” he continued as he shook Osiris’s hand.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Fuchs,” he said. “So, tell me how it is I’ve never seen you here before, dressed like that.”

“Kind of a long story,” Khai said. “Mike, would you mind?” she said, gesturing the bar.

“Of course,” he said, making his way toward the indicated area. “You had the pinot noir, yes?”

“I did, thank you.” She redirected her attention to Osiris, guiding him away from CJ as she explained. “Michael and I run a small IT setup. We were stationed in Southern California until last December, but we found a better opportunity out here.”

“Is that so?” Osiris returned. “And how are you liking the East Coast so far?”

“Oh, we love it! It’s like we’ve lived here all our lives..!”

Krueger made his way to the bar as Khai distracted Osiris, and stationed himself adjacent to CJ as he ordered a pinot noir and gin martini, slipping the bartender a few bills. “No frozen margaritas here, unfortunately,” he said to him.

CJ looked over his shoulder at the other man. “Huh?”

“This isn’t a poolside party. You’ll have to order smarter if you want to blend into this crowd. You can’t go wrong with one of the classics. A martini, or an Old-Fashioned if that’s more your speed.”

CJ quickly shook his head, befuddled. “Do I know you, man?”

“You do.” He finally turned to face CJ. “Also not a great idea to chase women here. Especially not when you have a baby on the way.”

CJ shut his eyes tight and opened them again as he leaned in, squinting at Krueger as he placed where he’d seen him before. “Sebastian—?”

“Not tonight. Tonight I’m accompanying your boss while she and I do your father a favor.” He gestured to his right at Osiris and Khai as they conversed. “Before you make a fool of yourself and say something you’ll regret, yes that is her in red. And she’s stopping that man from finding out who you are, because if he did, you’ll be dead by dawn or worse.”

Speechless, CJ looked over his shoulder at Khai and Osiris, then back at Krueger.

CJ’s disbelief informed Krueger he was completely unaware of the depth of the trouble he was in. “We’re trying to help you,” Krueger continued, “so let us help you. Leave,” he ordered. “Get your coat, call a taxi, and get as far away from this city as you can as quickly as you can. And then call your father to apologize.”

CJ nodded sheepishly, then retreated from the main atrium back toward the entrance.

Krueger watched Silvio exit the room as he reclaimed his drinks from the bartender, making sure he thanked him.

“Mr. Fuchs,” Osiris got Krueger’s attention. “Samantha was just telling me you head security for your company.”

He turned to face Osiris, having to turn his gaze upward slightly to establish eye contact. “That’s right,” he said, handing Khai her beverage. “I used to be a consultant in the field, but she made me a better offer,” he said with a smirk. “She still lets me freelance every now and then.”

“It keeps him happy,” Khai jested. “He would get bored otherwise.”

“Boy do I understand that,” Osiris added, laughing. “Would you mind lending me your input for a moment? I’ve been looking for ways to tighten security and upgrade networks for a few of my operations, and I can benefit from an outside opinion.”

Krueger and Khai discreetly shot each other looks. “I wouldn’t want to impose,” he said.

“Please, it won’t take much time at all,” he charmed. “Then I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” Khai said.

“Excellent,” Osiris extolled. “If you’d follow me to my office upstairs,” he gestured the hallway before them. “You can take your drinks with you.”

“Lead the way,” Krueger said. He put himself between Khai and Osiris as they followed him out the main atrium and toward the front lobby.

“So what did you say your industry was, Mr. Preston?” Krueger asked.

“Logistics, primarily,” Osiris answered, leading Krueger and Khai up the stairs. “Transportation of goods, and occasionally providing security services for those transported goods… the yardstick to inter-state commerce.” He turned left at the split to lead them down a hallway, and Krueger kept a mental tally of the staff they passed. “But some people don’t see it that way,” he lamented. “They would see my logistics operation crumble, and have attacked me through less-than-legal means,” he explained as he turned right and led them into an elegant office space. A mahogany desk sat before a massive window, to their left was a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, and to their right a coffee table and lounge area with a few cozy-looking couches. The carpet below their feet was a rich red. “So I’ll have to do the same, if I’m going to survive,” he concluded, turning to face them.

“Uh-huh… and these less-than-legal methods,” Khai put forth as Krueger went to rest his martini on the lounge table, “how do you presume we’ll be able to help you?” She turned to look over her shoulder as two more staffers closed the office doors behind them. Once again she closed the distance between Krueger and herself.

Osiris simply smirked and stepped aside, allowing them to see a shiny piece of gold-colored metal atop the mahogany desk. “Do either of you know what this is?”

They could both see it was a gun, a large hand cannon with a long, ported slide and barrel. Neither of them recognized the exact model.

Osiris picked the firearm up off the desk and held it in his hand. “This was a gift from some associates out west,” he explained. “It’s big, heavy, impossible to conceal, and poorly designed.” He reversed the gun in his hand to show them the lack of padding on the rear of the grip. “It shoots giant bullets, and has nothing to ease the recoil from those bullets, so it hurts every single time I shoot it. I don’t have the heart to tell the guys who gave this to me how much I hate it, but,” he continued as he loaded a five-round magazine into the hand cannon, “it makes a statement. Just know that every time I pull the trigger, I really want the guy or girl on the business end of this thing to understand that statement. So… to answer your question, Miss Khai,” he added as he pulled back the slide and released to chamber a round. “I think you’re opinion on what’s less than legal is well-qualified, as that is your area of expertise.”

Khai blinked and recoiled as her stomach sank when he called her by name. She backed toward the door almost subconsciously as Krueger stepped up between them to shield her.

Osiris’s lip curled into a sinister smirk as he stepped up to close the distance between them. “Yes,” he began. “I know who you are, Elizabeth Margaret Khai. Operations Controller for the Marlow Partners up north. I knew who you were the moment I laid eyes on you. Which would make you,” he directed his gaze—and cannon—to Krueger, “the specialist she hired to make sense of the organization again… Sebastian Weber? But we both know that’s not your real name. Neither is Michael Fuchs.”

“Congratulations,” Krueger commented, “you’re clairvoyant.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourselves,” he said, “you certainly would have fooled anybody else.” He took a few more steps toward them, and had them backed against the wall. “You know, you cost me a lot in Miami, Specialist—it took years to get three of my guys close to Silvio’s son… But they succeeded posthumously; he ended up here tonight after all. So while I can’t be too angry with you, holding onto any amount of anger is unhealthy. So…” He lowered the hand cannon to abdomen-level and fired, catching Krueger in the left ribs and dropping him to the floor almost instantly.

Khai stifled a scream and jumped away from them, back toward the lounge table as Osiris freed his hand. He held onto the cannon with his left as he rhythmically flexed his right and winced, groaning. She distanced herself further from him, heading toward the mahogany desk by the window as her eyes darted from Osiris in front of her to Krueger motionless on the floor. As Osiris looked back over his shoulder to face her she wished, prayed, Krueger would start moving again.

“Now there’s the matter of what punishment best suits you,” he dictated. “Maybe Young Silvio can give us some ideas. What do you think?”

“I think you’re a little late for his opinion,” Khai said, consciously slowing her speech just enough to hide her fear from him.

“Am I?” he queried. He took a conspicuous glance at the watch on his left wrist, and CJ Silvio was brought into the office by two of the staffers mere moments later, sporting a split lip and bleeding brow. Osiris dropped his hand and approached her again, carrying his cannon, and she recoiled almost immediately, but was stopped by the desk behind her. “Did you really think I would let any of you leave this place alive?”

Motion in Khai’s periphery gave her the cue she so desperately looked for earlier, giving her the boost in confidence she needed to act. “Lapse in judgement,” she said, shrugging. “Happens to the best of us.” She immediately threw her right knee into Osiris’s groin and dove to her left, hitting the floor and reaching for a subcompact Glock 26 she had holstered on the inside of her left thigh as Krueger—still on the floor—reached for his Five-Seven.

Krueger raised his handgun and fired six times in rapid succession, landing all his shots in Osiris’s back, while Khai struck each of the staffers in the room twice with well-placed shots from her handgun.

Osiris collapsed to his hands and knees, taking a labored breath as he turned to face Krueger, Khai, and CJ. He raised his hand cannon one more time, but lacked the strength to keep it at the ready; he dropped the gun to the floor and fell onto his side, coughing blood and grabbing at his chest.

Slowly, Krueger made it to his knees and holstered his weapon, then moved his hand to his side while he doubled over in pain. He propped himself up against the doorway while he tried to catch his breath.

When she was sure he wasn’t too badly hurt, Khai sat up to re-holster her handgun then stood to look down at Osiris. She crouched down to pick up his hand cannon and raised it one-handed to hold him in the sights. “The Partners send their regards,” she said. Then she squeezed the trigger, striking Osiris in the chest.

The recoil nearly wrenched the cannon from her grip. Shocked, she looked at the weapon in her hand in disbelief. She realized Osiris wasn’t lying about the weapon’s design flaws, but ultimately agreed with him about its ability to make a statement.

She rushed over to Krueger and knelt down in front of him, placing Osiris’s hand cannon on the floor to examine his wound. To her relief, she found he wasn’t bleeding. “Are you alright?”

Krueger nodded. “Armor saved my life,” he noted between shallow breaths.

This, as well as his apparent refusal to remove his right hand from his left side, worried Khai. She looked up at CJ, who was just getting back onto his feet after the violence that unfolded around him. “We have to get him out of here now,” she declared.

CJ agreed. “Say no more,” he said. “When they scooped me up they brought me back in through a side entrance. We can use it to slip away without them noticing.” He went to stand and wipe some blood from his brow.

“Do you remember where that exit is, by any chance?”

“End of the hall to the right.” CJ went toward the front door to pull a fire alarm mounted near it. “That should buy us some more time and cover.”

“Good thinking…” She turned back to address Krueger. “I’m going to help you up, Milo,” she said, taking his hand in hers and putting his arm around her shoulders. She propped him up onto his feet and stood up with him; when she was sure he could stand on his own, she retrieved her Glock from its holster once more and eyed CJ. “Let’s go.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” CJ noted. He searched the two bodies on the floor next to him, and found a set of car keys.

Khai peered around the doorway into the hall, and popped back behind cover after spotting half a dozen armed men and women on their way up the stairs, likely to investigate the noise in Osiris’s office. “Damn it,” she hissed. “I hope you’re a good shot, CJ.”

“He won’t have to be,” Krueger said, retrieving his Five-Seven from inside his jacket and handing it to him. “Keep their heads down with this, get them to retreat to the lobby while we find our way down.”

CJ reluctantly took the handgun and took a breath to prepare himself. Then he popped out from behind the doorway and squeezed the trigger several times in the general direction of the event staff. Khai and Krueger took the opportunity to make a break further down the hallway, and CJ scrambled to follow them as he emptied the magazine down the hall.

They made it to the emergency exit stairwell at end of the hall, just where CJ said it would be, by the time the gun was dry. Khai turned around and un-holstered her Glock, bracing herself against the doorway, and took aim. She targeted not the guards but the light fixtures above them. She fired three times at the one between them and her, and succeeded in breaking the thin chain that held it to drop the chandelier and slow the guards.

In the chaos and panic among the other guests, they snuck out the side and around the back of the villa to a parking lot. CJ led them through, tapping the unlock button on the key fob he lifted to guide them to the car it belonged to. When he found the SUV, he hopped into the driver’s seat while Khai joined Krueger in the back to nurse his wound. CJ put the car into drive and took off, passing an oncoming ambulance on his way off the resort grounds.

“Easy,” Khai said from the back seat. “We don’t need to call any attention to ourselves.” She undid Krueger’s waistcoat and shirt, then carefully opened the body armor underneath. She turned the light on above them to get a better look, noting a small cut in his side where the bullet struck the armor as well as some bruising and swelling, confirming her fears. “See if you can find a pharmacy,” she said. “Or anywhere we can pick up a first aid kit. We need to treat his rib fracture.”

“Not to question you,” he said, “but is that really for the best? We should probably get out of Williamsburg, or at least as far away from the resort as possible.”

Krueger nodded. “I agree. Call your father or Isaac. See if they can arrange to get us out of here.” He winced as he straightened up in his seat. “Then we can worry about fixing me.”

Khai waited with Krueger in the parking lot of a CVS some twenty miles from the resort, and conferred with Charles Silvio over the phone while CJ went inside to pick up the first aid supplies she detailed for him. Upon his return with the equipment, Khai explained the situation for them all to hear.

“I spoke to your father,” she said, opening the rear door to step out and meet him outside the idling car. “He thinks the best thing for us right now is to lie low for the night while the dust settles, then he’ll send somebody in the morning for us.”

“So we’re spending the night here?” CJ confirmed. “Balls deep in hostile territory..?”

“I’m afraid so…”

“We’ll need lodging,” Krueger said from the car’s rear bench. “I spotted a discreet motel on the way here.”

“That’s perfect,” Khai said. “They shouldn’t ask questions.” She took the first aid supplies from CJ and stepped back into the car. “Take us to the motel,” she ordered.

“Yes ma’am,” CJ sighed.

Upon their arrival at the motel, CJ stopped the engine to let Khai out and the two of them helped Krueger onto his feet. He followed them from the car to the entrance, and together they made it to the reception area and got the host’s attention.

“Welcome and good evening,” he said. “How may I help you?”

“Hi,” Khai said, fighting to filter the adrenaline from her voice as she spoke to him. “We’ll need three rooms for one night. Next to each other, if that can be helped.”

“Of course,” the receptionist said. “Can I have a name and credit card on file for your stay?”

Krueger reached into his inside jacket pocket and retrieved a stack of neatly folded $100 bills. He placed it on the countertop and slid it toward the receptionist. “Ben Franklin,” he said.

The receptionist looked up at Krueger, then down at the cash, and then back up to Krueger. Nodding, he retrieved three sets of keys from under his desk. “Rooms 203, 204, and 205,” he said. “Enjoy your stay, Mr. Franklin.”

“Danke schön.” Krueger took the keys and turned to lead his companions to their rooms. On the way handed CJ one of the keys and $200. “Go to the Goodwill down the road,” he ordered. “Get some cheap clothes that won’t draw attention and deliver them to my room.”

“Y-you bet.” CJ looked at Khai, and back at Krueger. “Um, what’s her size?”

“Take a guess.” Krueger slid the key into his door and entered. Khai followed him inside with the first aid supplies, leaving CJ to walk to the car and fetch their disguises.

Krueger rested his jacket on the back of a chair then went to the bathroom to wash his hands and splash water on his face one-handed. He worked on his shirt while Khai washed up in the bathroom behind him, peering over her shoulder every so often to check on him.

She fished her glasses out of her evening handbag and swapped her contact lenses for them just in time to watch Krueger roll his shoulder, painfully, to get out of his shirt and waistcoat and let them fall to the floor. She saw him struggle to remove the body armor and stepped in to intervene. “Let me,” she said. Gently, she peeled it off of his torso and stepped back to let him walk forward a little. Her eyes lingered on the numerous old battle wounds that were still visible on his bare back and chest.

Krueger tightened his one fist and gingerly held his side with his other hand, covering the growing purple blotch in his side as he slowly sat at the foot of the bed. He shut his eyes and exhaled a profanity before looking back at Khai. “Far from my first broken rib,” he said. “But I never did get used to the pain.”

She bent over to pick his shirt and waistcoat up off the floor and went to the chair his jacket rested over to place them with it. ��Good,” she replied, stepping out of her stilettoes on her way to the first aid supplies in their bags by the door. “I’d be worried about you if you were so accident-prone.” She retrieved a bottle of isopropyl solution and a cotton ball from the first-aid kit, opened the bottle, and tilted it onto the cotton ball a few times to absorb enough antiseptic to disinfect the cut. Then, carefully, she applied the cotton ball to the shallow cut in his side. “This doesn’t get any more fun each time,” she added playfully.

“It’s a lot less fun to endure,” he returned. “Believe me.”

“I’ll take your word for it…” She retrieved a fresh cotton ball from the kit and gingerly dabbed the wound to dry it, conscientious of what was beneath the tender skin. Then she reached into the bag for a cold compress. “You know what comes next, right?”

Krueger nodded. “I’m ready for it.”

“I’m sorry in advance,” she said. Then she gently pressed the ice pack to his side, applying just enough pressure to hold it in place.

Krueger winced a little, but didn’t protest much otherwise. “Don’t be. I’m just happy to have you here fixing me. I could have been doing this alone.”

She paused a little at his remark, realizing how different things might have gone tonight if she weren’t there. She considered how far from fine it all went, and felt responsible. She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Silvio,” he said.

He was probably right, but she couldn’t ignore other possibilities. “Hold that in place,” she said, then stood up to approach the door, reaching for her Glock resting on the inside of her thigh as she got closer to the peephole. When she confirmed Krueger’s assertion, she holstered the handgun and leaned against the wall to let CJ into the room, carrying bags from the Goodwill store, CVS and a fast food eatery.

“Disguises in here,” he said, laying the Goodwill bag down. “There was also change enough for some overnight stuff—you know toothbrushes, toothpaste, the like. And finally some cheeseburgers, since none of us ate dinner at the resort party... you guys don’t have any dietary restrictions, right?”

Khai shook her head.

Krueger shrugged. “It’s my cheat day.”

“Sure,” he continued, not sure whether he was joking. “Cheat day... One for you, Miss Khai,” he said, handing her one canary-yellow wrapper. “One for, well I would have said Sebastian, but—”

“Krueger.”

“Huh?”

“My name is Milo Krueger.”

Khai nodded, mid-chew. “I can confirm.”

“Right. One for Mr. Krueger…” He reached across Khai to hand him a cheeseburger. “And mine is in the bag… I split the clothes up to make it easier for everyone. Krueger and I are about the same size, so he was wasn’t a problem. For you, I got the smallest things I could find.”

Khai chuckled. “Thanks for trying to flatter me, but it’s for a day. I’m sure I’d be able to manage if you got my size wrong.”

“Well, I guess that’s true.” CJ stood up, taking his bags with him towards the door. “Is there anything else you guys need?”

“I’ll head back after I finish up here. Thank you, CJ.”

“You bet. I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow.” Then CJ Silvio turned and exited the room to return to his quarters for the night.

Khai waited a few moments after CJ left, then stood up from her spot to deposit her cheeseburger wrapper in the bathroom trash bin. She quickly washed and dried her hands then reached up her back to undo her gown, pulling the zipper all the way down on her own and paring it off her slender frame, leaving only a black strapless bra and panties to cover herself. She folded the gown over itself as neatly as she could and crossed the room to place it on the chair with Krueger’s clothes, then removed her garter holster and handgun to rest them there as well. “No way I’m letting you sleep alone tonight,” she said returning to the clothing bags CJ left behind and finding hers. She threw a t-shirt on and went back to the bathroom to grab a few hand towels, then returned to Krueger’s side to take the ice pack away. “You should eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” Krueger said.

“I know. But your body will need the nutrients if you want to start healing.”

If Krueger protested, he didn’t show it. He laid the cheeseburger wrapper in his lap to free its contents, then took hold of and bit into it, chewing slowly.

Khai placed the hand towels against his side and had Krueger hold them there while she went to the first-aid kit. She peeled a length of medical tape from the roll and fastened it to Krueger’s sternum, crossing the soft towels and sticking the other end to his back to hold them in place. “You know, you scared the crap out of me tonight,” she admitted.

Krueger swallowed. “How so?”

“When Osiris shot you, you… just fell.” She repeated her actions with another length of tape. “And when you didn’t get up, I thought...” She paused for a bit with a third length of tape to stop her voice from wobbling. “I thought I’d lost you.” She retrieved a pressure bandage and unraveled it, starting to wrap it around his core.

Krueger chewed some more as he put his thoughts together, then swallowed. By now he knew her well enough to know she would be blaming herself for what happened somehow. “It’s not your fault, Liz,” he confided.

“I didn’t have to come with you, but I did. You heard Osiris, he spotted me first.” She secured the bandage in place with the included fasteners and looked up to make eye contact with him, her hand falling into his lap. “If I weren’t there he would never have found us, and you wouldn’t have come that close to dying.” She shut her eyes and shook her head, cursing herself.

“You don’t know that, Liz,” Krueger said. He placed the rest of the cheeseburger into its wrapper to lay his hand on hers. “He could have spotted me anyway, or gotten to Silvio before I could if you hadn’t been there to distract him. I wouldn’t have even known who he was if not for you.” He moved his hand to her cheek and she looked back up at him. “It’s impossible to tell what could have happened if things were different,” he continued. “You can’t blame yourself for something you couldn’t have foreseen. Nobody can predict everything, what’s important is that we all made it out alive. People like us aren’t always so lucky,” he finally said. “I know this.”

Khai took his words to heart and exhaled to calm herself again. Then she stood up, took his face in her hands and placed two kisses square on his mouth. “Don’t you dare get killed out there, Milo Krueger,” she appealed.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

~~~~

Khai kept his promise to him, spending the night by his side and treating his wound as needed. They finally drifted off to sleep after several hours, and when they awoke the next morning Khai took a phone call from Charles Silvio letting her know their transport would be there within sixty minutes.

Khai dressed herself in the pullover hoodie and jeans CJ picked out for her and gathered the rest of her belongings. “Shame about Samantha and Michael,” she jested. “It doesn’t look like they’ll be back to that resort any time soon.”

“Looks that way,” Krueger said, easing a zip-up hoodie over his left shoulder to keep the pressure off his healing ribs. “That’s why I picked up a souvenir.” He walked over to where his suit was folded and reached for the holster, revealing Osiris’s gold-plated hand cannon. “It seemed a shame to leave it behind.” He held it out for her to take.

She picked it up and held it with both hands, running her left thumb over the barrel ports and her right over the slide release. The visible engraved text read AMT AUTOMAG V 50 A.E. Irwindale, CA. “I hate shooting it,” she said with a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. “But it makes a hell of a statement.”

“And what better statement to make than owning Osiris’s gun?”

“None better,” she said. She released the magazine and cleared the chamber before placing the gun in her hoodie’s kangaroo pocket, then reached one hand up to caress his cheek and give him a long, appreciative kiss. “Suppose I’d better go maintain the illusion,” she lamented after breaking contact. She returned to the bag that held her gown and shoes from the previous evening, picked it up, and stepped out of Krueger’s room.

“Ja,” he said. “Zurück an die arbeit.” He went back to his suit jacket to fish his belongings out of the jacket and place them into his cargo pants pockets.

~~~~

Khai woke CJ and had him get dressed to meet her and Krueger for breakfast, which they shared mostly in silence. And as promised, Charles Silvio’s driver arrived at the motel within the hour to pick them up and take them back to New York. He dropped Krueger and Khai off at his home in Rego Park for her to collect her car, and took CJ home to his apartment in Astoria.

Khai debriefed Isaac Hayden upon her return home. “Krueger can be up and working in as little as fourteen days,” she concluded, “but in a limited capacity. He should be back to full strength within six weeks.”

“I see,” Hayden said over the phone.

“Any updates from the Company?”

“My sources say Osiris was rushed to a hospital nearby. They say he’s comatose, and his prognosis isn’t good, but they weren’t able to get any other details regarding him. He ran the operation closer to the vest than we suspected, however. His generals are scrambling to keep his network at full functionality, and it’s already starting to splinter. We can expect them to back away from us on fronts across the entire Eastern Seaboard while they pull themselves together.”

“The way I see it sir, there’s no better time to push them out of the region than now.”

“You may be right,” he said. “But in so doing we may end up uniting them against us, and the advantage we’ve gained with Osiris’s removal from the field will be gone. I’ll coordinate with Charles and Dana, we’ll apply just enough pressure to keep them off-balance, and let them destroy themselves.”

“Understood, sir.” She poured fresh coffee from the stovetop pot into a mug and took it with her to her living room, setting down on the couch she got from Amelia’s barely a week ago.

“Charles asked me to thank you and Mr. Krueger again for your help with his son, and advised we keep him on a short leash.”

Khai had an idea about that. “What if we have CJ help me out at the branch? Be my assistant, the way I was to William and Simon.”

“Do you feel he’s up to the task?”

“I do. After what the three of us went through down there, I think he’s matured enough to handle the additional responsibilities. And if it doesn’t work, I’m sure his father can find something for him in Miami.” She took a sip of her coffee.

“On that we agree,” he added, almost chuckling. “I’ll have him report to the branch Monday morning for his new assignment. Enjoy the rest of your weekend, Miss Khai.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hayden,” she said. “Good night.” She ended the call and put the phone down next to her, savoring her coffee as she admired Osiris’s empty AutoMag resting on the table in front of her. She picked the phone back up and dialed another number.

An older woman answered this time. “Hello? This is Gina.”

Khai leaned back into the couch. “Hey mom.”

“Liz!” she extolled. “It’s so good to hear from you again.”

“I know, it’s been a while. Sorry it took me so long to call back I’ve just been so busy at the branch lately.”

“I bet you have been, Miss Branch Controller..! Your father and I can’t tell you how proud we are of you. Running an operation at your age? That’s unheard of.”

“I did have help,” Khai said, trying to be modest. “And a great set of teachers, so you and dad can take thirty percent of the credit.”

“Is that all you’re willing to give us?” she jested.

“Okay,” Khai conceded, laughing. “Forty, but that’s as high as I’ll go..!”

“I’ll take it,” Gina laughed. “So tell me, what else is new with you?”

“Well,” she said, sinking further into the couch and letting it cradle her. “I just hired an assistant—you know Charles Silvio’s son?”

“Of course.”

“Yeah he’ll be helping me out with all the minutiae, and clear my schedule a little.” She paused briefly before continuing. “Also I met somebody.”

“Did you now?”

“I did.”

“Well, don’t leave me hanging, how’d you two meet?”

“He did some work for the branch a few months ago,” Khai began. “Isaac was so impressed he offered him a permanent position, so he’s with us full-time now. He’s a real sweetheart, too… he treats me well, spoils me… you and dad would love him.”

___(Masterlist)

#fiction #original work #original content #original fiction #prose #creative writing #drama #thriller

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creedatelier · 4 years

Text

Echoes Of A Shady Past.

An icy chill descends on 13 Beaver Veil Cottage as sisters Ester and Ellie walk gingerly up the steps on this wet and windy night.

This once charming pied-a-terre was now in a final phase denouement.

The trees surrounding this house creak ominously overhead as tangled electric wires cackle in the rusty leaves.

"Night owls like us should be wary.”

Ellie sighs in a shudder as her sniffling nose warps her every word.

"Heavens above or heaven on earth your faith or is it fate is sealed in another world.”

Ester continued dryly.

A loose tile suddenly drops in front of both of them as they approach the rotting front door of this old period home

with its spaced windows, dripping eaves, and contoured outlines.

"Focus that torch of yours, Ellie.

Look at how evenly split those tiles are.

The hidden hand of a superior being no doubt.” The moon peeps behind the clouds almost in sync with Ester‘s edgy broadside..

Ellie smirks nervously as they both tread the damp dark hallway with its crumbling structures and sinister undertone.

"Auntie Diane and Uncle Denny used to poke fun at our squabbles when we were caring for them.

Like ourselves they were natural mimics.

They loved copycatting our voices just as we did when imitating them.”

Ellie's tone a haunting echo reverberating around the interior of this latter day cave.

"Oddly enough Diane always had her worry beads with her. But our impish banter offset her angst. Auntie’s ripples of laughter at the two of us proved that.”

Ellie once more stressing a point

"Indeed.” Ester concurred. "Denny was more unearthly in his asides.”

Pictures, CDS and other personal belongings seemed either to appear out of nowhere or were left strewn as if they had been planted deliberately.

“Ester...where are you ? My walks,...My walks....I know you are hiding on me.”

Ellie’s mischievous giggle now a misty cacophony in imitation of uncle Denny’s sonorous voice.

"The joker within me surfaces despite myself.”

Ellie deadpans.

"Joker or perhaps a lurking scruple or two.”

Ester replied as she cast her auntie Diane’s scapulars at Ellie which she had just spotted on the floor next to a Light Emission Diode gadget.

This religious object somehow missed its target.

"Far too long brewing that coffee.

Are you making that Percolator?"

Ester assuming her aunt Diane's plummy twang.

Within seconds a swirling witch's brew of Diane and Denny voices filled the air in grotesque mockery as the sisters taunt each other in rotation.

“You are holding on too tightly, Diane. I need a rest Uncle Denny.”

Ellie calls for an immediate halt to this hair-raising escapade.

“We both cared for our relatives as best we could." Ellie observes against this web of suspense.

“Diane with her plain dress sense at odds with her aura loved to drop oblique hints about delays. Oh.... and that rocking chair.”

Ellie opined. “All an act too...she was never glued to it when it suited. The sudden movements and those long- range controlling beams from her peepers.”

Ellie darkly noted.

Ester her voice now saturated with the dampness of this old house.

"The 13 BEAVER VEIL BROUHAHA.”

Ester as she adds another spine-tingling quip to the proceedings.

“They loved our spats.”

Ellie whispers amid the sound of scurrying mice and sinister splish-splash of ceiling leaks.

"This hovel could still be the death of us literally.

It has decayed since our last visit.”

The sisters' voices now merge as one.

For whatever reason Ellie seemed to be curiously familiar with this dwelling despite the fact that it was supposed to be their first visit in six months.

Ester’s suspicions had been heightened every minute they spent in this abode.

Diane and Denny had a special sense of attachment to this house despite the best wishes of their caretakers.

The elders revelled in this old home and its ghastly....indeed ghostly choir of sounds from the mists of time.

"Have you the gumption to climb these stairs?

After all, the way things are going this could be our last chance to peer around Diane and Denny's rooms." Ellie’s wet croak vent in the ascendant.

"Wouldn't be too sure about the lights unless there's Divine Light.”

Ester and Ellie jostling with each other.

A pregnant silence ensued followed by spooky giggles.

Ester and Ellie climb the stairs carefully eyeing their surroundings while they take big gulps of dank mould air.

This was no time for either to lose their balance.

Suddenly a burst of thunder and a scattered moonlit beam meld with Ester’s frightened shriek.

"Ellie, am I seeing things? It's the rocking chair. Is that where you left it the last time?.....on the top of the stairs." Ester now frantic.

"Now you might believe in a higher power ,,,er...gosh.” Gasps Ellie.

"There's a faint outline in the chair. Apparition or spirit.” Ellie again.

"Where's my tea? Aren't you going to read to me? Are you two still at it?”

Diane's voice or its like as it flits from spot to spot.

"Ellie please not now ….oh no is that Denny?”

Ester was almost possessed.

Denny was seemingly speaking through her in retaliation.

"I'm here, those delays, feeling guilty are we?” Was I that much trouble?”

The rocking chair was tilting back and forth as if it was about to tumble.

The ceiling plaster crashes as Ellie and Ester grab each other before heading back downstairs.

They dash to the front door which Ellie had forgotten to shut.

It looked as if the door was going to close of its own accord.

The rocking chair was now at the foot of the stairs as they just managed to squeeze past the closing door without being trapped .

Just!

" Keep running.”

Ellie her words nearly choking her.

Out the gate and down the main road they fled against a bizarre backdrop of strange whirlpool noises emanating from the house they had barely escaped.

"Phew that was close....I never want that experience again." Ester blurts.

"You seemed to know the house much better than I did?" Ester again in an arched tone.

“You haven't been out there by yourself within the last six months?"

Ester posing the question again suspiciously.

"Oh.....oh...no….that God is my witness.”

Ellie gleams with her ironic religious retort.

And the moon peeps out again from behind the clouds as Ellie and Ester continue to flee.

Their fearful laughter mingling with beads of sweat that segue into the frost encrusted air for miles around.

#creedatelier

mantrabay photograph and prose poem copyright protected

#graphic #photography #pencil #video #painting #slam poetry #sketch art #art #sculptures.#song #submission

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jacklynnfrost · 5 years

Text

The Eighth Avenue Express (Part 3)

Fanfic by Jacklynnfrost for Smutember 2019. I’m very grateful for my friends, who I was not sure would want to be associated with such a naughty fic, so are anonymous. Happy Tuesday Train fic day!!!

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

‘This makes me stand out more.’ Elizabeth thinks, but she has already changed in the bathroom and with the subway screeching to a halt, she doesn’t have the time to redress. It’s too big for her, with the round black buttons from her bust to her knees it resembles a sack. The belt helps, but even that is too big. Rather than buckle it loosely at it’s tightest hole, she looped and tugged it tight to cinch her waist.

Somehow, she still likes it though. With it tied in, it does look comfy and very much like Carmen Sandiago but what she finds most appealing is that her stranger bought it for her. She thinks she knows where his mind went when he found it and she is attempting to make that guessed at fantasy come to fruition.

It’s busier today. The couple beside her gushes about a new place opening downtown and something about an event but she dismisses their chatter as she squeezes into the packed train car. Bodies are everywhere. She dips, pushes and maneuvers her way to the center bar, to their meeting place. Elizabeth doesn’t see him until the last moment with all the commotion. Instantly, as soon as their warm gazes meet they are pressed together and he smirks, tips up to kiss her in a gentle greeting, then drops to the floor.

“What...” She starts as his knees hit the linoleum and his fingers deftly unloop the belt. Elizabeth burns. “You can’t open it.” Her panicked eyes meet the top of his head, his cowlick sticking up but he doesn’t respond and she isn’t sure if he’s heard. She releases the bar just as the subway starts its moving and her foot steps wide to steady her balance while her hands grip the front of her coat to remain closed. Immediately his knee spreads to rest at her inner ankle but he doesn’t go for her buttons like she expects.

Her stranger lifts the bottom hem up to her thighs, kisses each of her legs with smirking lips and she watches him bend, ducking under her coat. She gasps, her hands fixing her coat to make it look as sack-like as possible before both her fists grip around the pole before her. Elizabeth’s eyes flit around the train car as his hands roam freely up her thighs, on either side of her hips and with the barest caress feels up to and along the underside of her breasts. Her work clothes are shoved in her purse and right now she is wavering on whether or not it was such a good idea to be naked for him under this coat.

She intended it to be a gift in thanks for his gift but somehow she’s the one being rewarded as the stubble of his jaw deliciously scratches up her inner thigh. He hums, the slight vibrations against her flesh jolt her heart to flutter, her tummy warms and she feels her most private of flesh weep for him. ‘It’s him.’ She thinks in hazy alarm. ‘He’s my personal sex catnip. This isn’t about being an exhibitionist.’ The realization comes just as her stranger’s nose slips against her core, his hands grab at her waist as if she were about to escape just as he caught her. He inhales, smelling her and his hot exhale has her squirming... but she spreads her stance that much wider.

Elizabeth feels him chuckle more than hears and when she looks down she sees her coat moving as his head does. To ease her own anxiety about peepers, she holds the collar out and away from her body. She is overheating anyway with all the sensations building inside her. His palms glide over the curve of her ass and his grip squeezes, harsher than he’s ever been, surprising a little gasp from her as his tongue touches her slit for the first time.

That same humming sensation occurs, his breath sending tingles through her legs and she tightens her hold on the bar to stay upright. It’s a good thing too as his elbow dips against her thigh to guide it up. She follows his lead, trailing her calf up and over his shoulder to wrap there, her core opening for him to feast on. His torso rumbles under her leg as he viciously devours her underbelly.

This has happened so quickly she’s in a state of pleasant shock, but her adrenaline catches up as feelings flood her in a multitude of ways.

Her red coat follows her leg, stretching to part until it strains tight, held together from the bottom button. His tongue languidly explores her folds before lashing at her clit as if angry then returning to his gentle touches. He speaks, his lips moving and breath warm against her slickness but Elizabeth has lost auditory function. She has blocked out all noises around her, full of too many other inputs. His palm kneading her ass, his other slipping along her thigh to join his mouth and his fingers toy with her opening.

Elizabeth bends, her head taps and rests on the glinting metal pole, her breath fogs across it. She pinches her eyes closed and bites her lip to keep her mouth shut, having a hard time focusing on holding the coat out, let alone being silent while so many people are around. He suckles on her swollen nub and she gasps, neck arching back and the pulses at her core quicken. They echo his movements, driving her mad and two of his fingers enter her with a harsh thrust up. His hold on her ass squeezes, pushing her hips into his face as if she isn’t close enough for him.

She looks down the top of her coat, eyes wide and full of anticipation as he fucks her with his fingers, his tongue stretching and lapping at her clit. It’s barely lit in there from the overhead lights but she can make out the crown of his head pressing against the inside of her coat and the contours of his face as he intimately kisses her. His eyes flash up to hers, unfocused, with his eyelids fluttering. She watches his arm thrust and as his fingers reach inside of her. Keening whimpers escape from her.

His lips grin, she can feel them move against her wetness and on the cusp of her orgasm the subway shifts and a body bumps into her from behind causing her raw slit to glide over his face. Elizabeth tumbles into her pleasure, her legs shaking and her grip is white-knuckle tight on the pole. She feels as if she were a ball of yarn strung so tight and he’s yanked her into a spirling unravel that’s moving too quickly. Her knee gives out and her other hooked over her shoulder is all that keeps her up until he catches her, supporting her with his straining biceps muscles.

Her head tips back, her long breathy moan lasts the entirety of her cores quaking, and not a drop of tension remains in her as it passes. He stops his tasting, retreating his fingers from her gripping core to kiss her mons, up across one hip bone then runs his lips across the little curve of her belly to her other side. His hands are coarse but feel her ardently, his flesh on hers like a trickling stream of sensation as he moves up. The side of his face trails up her belly, his knuckles rippling over her ribs and she feels as if she is filling up, brimming over with something.

Sounds return. The ruffling of clothes, coughing, and clearing of throats paired with the muffled voices of those around her overtake the repetitive whooshing of the moving bullet train. She moves her leg down, embarrassed as she fixes her coat to give him the most room to explore her body. The subway car is rumbling, people talking all around but when he speaks his voice carries, his lips caressing her flesh. “Today is my most favorite of all my days.” It’s low enough that she correctly assumes he didn’t think she would hear. Elizabeth processes his words slowly, still affected by her earth-shattering orgasm and the bubbling impending eruption of her affection towards this man.

Her eyes flit around to the other passengers but with so many, they blend into the crowd. He’s squatting but taking up a single person space so no one appears to have noticed them, or, that Elizabeth can tell anyways. His touch is different, it has been since the very start when her hand accidentally touched his when they met. Her heart pounds, the wings in her tummy flap and flutter but it’s too much, she’s a cup brimming a bubble of liquid at the edge of her. Any more and she fears she’ll fall apart. “Please...” She whispers, dipping her chin into the neck of her coat. “I want to talk to you.”

Her beautiful stranger reluctantly separates from her, his fingers trailing, his lips leaving final kisses and he smirks up at her before dipping low while lifting the hem of her coat. In a quick hop, he’s standing before her, nonchalant as his hand wraps around her over their pole. She looks at him, having so many questions but the urge to taste herself on his tongue is undeniable.

His blonde messy locks draw her hand and she combs her fingers through it, resting her palm at the back of his neck as she stares into him. She wets her lips, looking to his as the only clue of what she wants before succumbing to her urges. Elizabeth doesn’t invade his mouth. Instead, her lips to his are as soft as flower petals. She sips from him as if he is the sweetest of teas, her tongue only seeking the flavor of his lips, a small sample full of gentle affection. “What’s your name?” She whispers, moving softly against him.

His scent washes over her, the comfort of him adds to her relaxation and pooling warmth. He returns her sweetness, his mouth curving against hers but gives her a fervor kiss before he leans away just enough to tenderly gaze at her face. He inhales through the nose, looking at her as if trying to memorize all the miniscule details and facets of her. “I’m Meliodas.” He says, eyes dimming and smile falling to rest downward, resigned. “I’m very glad to meet you.” Her stranger finishes, his hands find the belt of her coat and he loops it, pulling it tight with finality before resting his hands on her hips.

The subway begins to slow and in tandem, they both look to the side window with weary acceptance as the tunnel outside flashes by knowing their time is running out. She turns back to him first. “Meliodas?” Her voice is reverently testing, her tongue finding the sounds pleasing and his green eyes grow aflame with the enchanting way she said his name. “My... uh, well my internship is going to run out next week so I won’t be able to ride our Metro after that.” Any hint of fire in his orbs dies, ash leveling as his expression grows tight.

Elizabeth will be finishing her college hours this semester after her boss finishes her paperwork and she’ll be released from her internship in time for her finals. Outside of that, she has four interviews lined up for next week as she needs to have a job in order to pay for her apartment. She’s lucky to have a paid internship as it is.

All of these things, she wants to share but Meliodas nods, his hands leaving her waist to cup her face as if already saying goodbye. “I’m scheduled to make three more coffee runs until then.” She means that they will have time to figure it out, to swap numbers or set up a date but the poor man, who is no longer a stranger, interprets it as only having a total of one more hour of her in his life. His hands drop from her porcelain skin.

The rails squeak, people move around them to give themselves better positions to rush the platform but Elizabeth stays as they come to a stop. She looks to his pinched brow and notes that his jaw is clenched, his teeth grinding slightly but he’s fighting it, trying to look neutral. “Are you... okay?” Elizabeth compassionately questions but the light changes over the doors. In a rush, she graces his lips with her same sweet, soft kiss goodbye, only this time he fists her coat and forces her to step into him. He dominates her mouth, expertly and thoroughly, leaving her utterly breathless before he releases her and sets her back on steady feet.

Their time is running thin and she scrambles to tell him the next day she’ll be on the train before spinning and going. As always she stops on the platform and looks back to see him through the bubble window but today... he hadn’t followed and there is no sweet smirk or overhand wave to see her off.

#Tuesday Train Fic Part 3 #smutember2019 #nnt fanfiction #elizabeth lion #jacklynnfrost

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granddaughterogg · 6 years

Text

First time with the Horsemen, part 1 (Fury, Strife)

Sooo a long time ago I received an ask to this effect. I am apparently unable to cram such a story into just a few paragraphs, so it got really long. Since no one reads long-ass posts anyway, I decided to break this bad boy in two. War and Death’s versions will follow tomorrow. Have fun!

Fury

The sun was setting slowly – not that you could see it through all the clouds. A slight drizzle stained the windows. It’s been a long, sleepy day. You and Fury spent it mostly on the sofa. That afternoon she asked you to teach her how to do makeup „the human way” (that’s how she put it, bless her. As if there was ONE way.) You brought in your laptop and introduced Fury to the amazing world of youtube tutorials.

Six hours later your eyeshadow palettes, brushes and used cotton swabs were scattered everywhere, creating a colourful barrier around the couch. None of you felt like getting up and cleaning this mess any time soon. Rain whispered in the background. You lied on the side, supporting yourself on an elbow. Fury spooned you with her long body, both arms curled protectively around your waist, her sharp chin nested between your neck and your shoulder. She was clearly dozing off. You could hear her wheezing slightly with every drawn breath.

Her huge, animated hair was everywhere – like a friendly octopus. One adventurous strand all but filled your nostril.

„Hey” you whispered. „Wake up. That tickles!”

Fury blinked slowly and fixed you with a blurry, dazed stare. Her face has been wiped clean from the thick black markings that usually graced it. She was still beautiful but looked different. Younger. Almost innocent.

„Oh, I’ll tickle you alright”, she murmured, brushing your collarbone. You let out a stifled, breathless chuckle. There goes the impression of innocence.

„How low should I go today?” she asked with a mischievous gleam in those milky peepers. „Should I stop here?” You gasped slightly when she kissed the skin of your breast. „Or maybe...here?” Two dexterous hands swiftly pulled up the hem of your T-shirt. You almost cried out when she pressed her lips to your abdomen.

„Just go all the way down”, you sighed.

She lifted her head and tossed you an inquiring stare.

„Are you sure?”

„As sure as I’ll ever be.” A small, nervous giggle escaped your lips. „Not that I would know. After all, I’ve never gone all the way before.”

Her eyes were big and thoughtful now.

„Oh, you didn’t?”

„Well, nope. Not with a girl either. The perfect opportunity somehow never presented itself. Like…until now.”

Fury closed in on you, her lips curled with the most cat-like smile you’ve ever seen.

„My surly brothers won’t be home until tomorrow,” she said. „I guess this is the perfect opportunity.” She covered your mouth with hers – it was a short but deep kiss. It made your insides backflip. „You’re in such good hands.”

„Yeah, I kinda have the idea” you ventured, your heart thumping.

She unzipped your jeans, pulled the thin cotton of your panties aside and kissed your pubic mound. You gave out the smallest moan.

Suddenly all the fabric has been forcefully pulled away by a pair of dexterous, dedicated hands. You were ass naked, and Fury was kissing you right in the soft, moistened centre.

This time you moaned louder.

She laughed and went in with the tongue. There was nothing in the whole world that could prepare you for this sensation – this resilient, skilfull wetness, pressing at the very core of your pleasure. She licked and then sucked a little. You went breathless from crying.

„Do you like it?..” she murmured.

„Please don’t stop”, you gasped.

„Oh, I don’t intend to any time soon” she stated and went back to sucking.

Rain whispered in the background. Your hips moved rhythmically up and down, meeting with her mouth in full force. You were lightheaded from bliss and you’d be damned if you let it go.

Strife

The thing about Strife is that it’s so easy to lose yourself in him. Out of the Four, he’s the one who radiates sexual energy in its rawest form. He’s also the most handsy by far. Even before you two started to seriously fool around - you could hardly pass him by without being patted or just grabbed and held. This dude has no concept of personal space.

Not that you mind. Not most of the times anyway.

He kisses like there’s no tomorrow. You always have to change your underwear after he kissed you.

It was during one of such prolonged sessions of getting all taut and tender inside – that he nipped your earlobe and whispered: „Hey girl.”

„...Mhmm?” At the moment it was hard to produce a coherent sentence.

Strife grinned. „What do you say we take things to the next level?”

Your eyes went wide. Your stomach dropped. Oh, no. Now you’ll have to tell him.

You darted back, trying to contain mild panic.

Strife had excellent eyesight though. He noticed how your face changed.

„What is it, babe?” he asked, frowning.

„I’d love to,” you said softly. „But Strife...I am a virgin.”

He blinked. „And?”

„Do you have something in your ears?” You felt so embarrassed, you almost lashed out at him. „I’ve never had sex before. With anyone! I have no idea how to...”

„Babe”, said Strife with a low voice.

You looked into those kind eyes, gleaming with golden light.

He held your chin in his palms and leaned in so that his long nose almost brushed yours.

„Kiddo.” That husky timbre that he used to snap back at Death or make wisecracks with – it was incredible how tender it could be. „I’ve had sex with everyone and then some. I put the ho in the Horsemen, remember? I know how it’s done. And it’s gonna be alright. You’re gonna be alright.”

„Than...teach me,” you said, burying your face in his shoulder.

„With pleasure. Like, literally.” His laughter made the little hairs on your neck stand on their ends.

„But not here. I bet one of my beloved siblings is gonna walk in on us every minute now. Shall we take my steed and fly away to a special place?”

„Yes!”

Strife’s idea of a special place turned out to be the top of an abandoned high-rise building. Reborn Humanity had yet to reclaim that one. It was covered with soft, lush moss and other vegetation. Little flowers peeped through the grass.

The sunset seemed riper up here, but you were in no mood for admiring the vista.

„So...what happens now?” You shot him a nervous, eager glance.

„It’s usually a good idea to get out of your clothes first...” Suddenly he was just behind you. Those nervous, skilful fingers of his went everywhere. You trembled and nodded with conviction. He made short work of your jeans and T-shirt. His own shirt and pants soon followed, scattered around on the moss.

You’ve seen Strife shirtless before – he was not exactly the bashful lot - but what you saw now was something else. Like, something ENTIRELY ELSE. You were seriously torn between the need to admire his lanky physique - and, well, panic. Had legs for days, this one. That you kinda knew. It showed.

What you never dreamed of was that he would prove to be so...big.

Then again, you had zero comparison.

Strife noticed your frightened expression, chuckled and sat you between his long legs, back pressed to his wide chest. You leaned in, eager to feel his touch. „Later”, he murmured reassuringly while palming your breasts. „We’re gonna take care about you first.”

And take care of you he did.

His fingers first enticed a flame under your skin, then made you wet and started to meticulously work you open. You trembled and sighed - first a little, that quite a lot. Strife’s golden eyes glinted with joy while he riled you up.

You pressed one flaming cheek to his torso and groaned through half-parted lips.

„That’s right”, he whispered. „It feels good, now doesn’t it?”

„Y-yeah...”

“Want me to do some more?”

„Yes! Please...”

He slid two fingers inside and then you seriously lost your shit.

Suddenly you were not exactly sure where you are – or who you are for that matter. Strife’s touch turned you into a sobbing ball of pleasure. He sure knew how to find your inner sweet spot.

You started to move jerkily. Up and down, up and down you went, grinding urgently on his large hand. The other one held you in a steady, secure grip. You felt completely safe. You felt weightless.

You came abruptly, arching your upper body so that the back of your head pressed into his torso, your eyes shut close, an unholy wail escaping your lips.

It was as if a wave came crashing over you – and left.

You went limp in your Horseman’s embrace.

„Babe”, he whispered into your hair, while swaying you gently. „Baby. Kiddo.”

„Strife.” It was just a whisper.

„You did great for a first time, you know.” Tenderness laced the words.

„Yeah”, you breathed, turning your face to look him in the eyes, warm and glowing and full of joy. He had such a smug grin on that angular mug of his. He sure earned it. „I love you too.”

#darksiders #darksiders3 #darksiders fury #darksiders strife #darksiders lemon #lemon #lemons in general #fury/reader #strife/reader #first time fic #be tender!#first time with the Horsemen #fury x reader #strife x reader

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zennyshoneybunch · 5 years

Text

Mysme Beach Resort AU

Pairing: Zen & OC

A/N: Hi! Here we go, chapter number two... this one is from Zen’s POV. I hope you like it.

It was supposed to be shorter, but I realized that what I had was way too short to be deserving the title ‘chapter’, so I hadded a little more lol!

Anyway, last chapter Ella couldn’t sleep after arriving at the Paradise Hotel & Resort, so she decided to take a little walk... at 3 am. :)

If you want to know what happened, then please click below. Thank you for reading~!

Chapter 2 - The Night Nymph

Zen let out a sigh. Damn, it was late! He didn’t expect to still be out at that hour, even if he didn’t have anything booked to do the next morning, but the crew kept asking him to stay and have another drink. He had to literally slip out the club’s back door without anyone noticing.

More than ready to fall on his bed, he decided to take a shortcut through the Resort instead of around it. The staff’s lodges were right at the very back of the Resort, out of the guest’s way, and going around the complex, on foot, would take him too much time.

- Man, it’s hot…

He grumbled with yet another sigh. He should be used to that crazy weather at that point, but he still wasn’t. He glanced at the main pool on his left, considering taking a quick dip, but deciding against it.

However, the moment he looked away, he saw something that resembled a person floating, face up, in the clear water.

- Huh? Am I he seeing things? I didn’t have that much to drink, did I?

He slowly approached the pool, for a better view and it wasn’t a mirage! A girl was definitely there, floating peacefully with her hair spread around her face and her arms wide open. Her eyes were closed and a little smile played on her lips.

Zen’s jaw fell open. She looked like a nymph, and he felt attracted to her as a sailor to a siren's call. He didn't mean to be a peeper but she looked so serene, so peaceful and beautiful. And so naked.

His face flushed at the realisation that he was actually peeping on someone who was wearing nothing but lingerie. Wet lingerie. And he obviously didn't mean it like that, but nonetheless that was what he was doing.

Peeling his eyes away from the girl, he walked to the nearest boot to retrieve a clean towel, before returning to his previous spot. He crouched down and reached for the water, splashing her lightly, to call for her attention.

Finally, she opened her eyes, eyebrows slightly creased.

- Couldn't sleep?

He asked with a smile. The girl’s eyes grew bigger and she immediately dived into the water, all the way up to her nose. Still, he recognized her as the girl he had asked to dance earlier.

- Don’t worry. I’m part of the staff, but I’m not here to scold you.

He looked at one of the closest CCTV cameras installed and smirked at it.

- But someone might… So, if you can’t sleep I’d recommend a long run on the beach... or dance lessons with me.

He gave the girl a big, charming, grin. Since they were both there, why not advertise the lessons? Even though he knew that by lunchtime he would still be fully booked, even without advertising.

After a little pause, she finally spoke, in a small voice that he could only hear because everything was so quiet.

- I don't dance.

- You will after our lessons. I can guarantee that.

- No, thank you.

She looked uncertain, but he didn’t want to insist. She was obviously embarrassed.

- Alright. Earlier you looked so interested in our little performance, I thought you’d want to take the lessons. But if not, I guess I’ll leave you to your... activities. I'll leave this towel here for you. It may be hot outside but there won't be any sun rays to warm you up after you get out of there.

He rose up, stretching a little and noticing how her eyes followed his movements.

- I should warn you, though, there are cameras here, and the guy in charge with the surveillance doesn’t sleep much, so he is probably watching us right now.

He waved at the camera, not missing the way she hugged herself under the water, her face showing her embarrassment.

- Anyway, if you change your mind about the lessons look for me. My name is Zen.

And with a wide smile he turned around and walked away, not giving her a second glance.

He chuckled to himself as he continued on his way to his bungalow. What a cute girl. He didn’t know why, but he hoped she would end up deciding in favor of the lessons.

The next day, after lunch, Zen received his schedule from Jaehee. As expected, he was already fully booked, the first 3 lessons taking place that same afternoon.

He was inside the dance room, with his back to the door when he heard steps behind him. He glanced at the schedule with the customer’s name.

- Welcome, Miss. Summers, to our ballroom dance lessons, I’ll be your instructor, Z-

He turned around to find the girl from the pool, the nymph, standing in front of him. He barely noticed the smile tugging at his lips, the moment their eyes met.

- Ah! It’s you!

She smiled.

- So you decided to give it a try, after all.

- Yes… you said it could help me sleep.

Zen focused his stare on her eyes. They were a little puffy and had little dark circles underneath. Obviously her night swim didn't help. That must have been some serious jetlag.

- But I have to warn you, I'm very bad at this.

He let out a chuckle.

- Don't worry. I'm your instructor and I'm great at it, so you'll learn in a flash.

With a wink, Zen beckoned the girl to come closer, into the middle of the room.

- Ok, we’ll start with Salsa, it's usually a favorite.

In the next few minutes, he briefly explained the dance and showed her the steps. Once she seemed to have the hang of it, he turned the music on.

- Now, I want you to keep repeating those steps, but trying to match them with the music. Once the beat starts.

“Even if I know it's wrong, hope the DJ plays our song so you can find me, and dance behind me.”

- You have to listen to the music and feel it.

“You love how I dip and wine, with you it happens every time. My body is lonely, for you only.”

- Ok, ready? Now!

“Something about you got me sweatin', sweatin'. Baby, I'ma drive you loco, loco. Now you got my body shakin', shakin'. I wanna dance with you all night.”

- Alright, you have a good frame, and you should keep it, but you also need to loosen up more. You're too stiff.

He placed his hands on her hips, from behind, planning to help her move them in a more relaxed way, but she immediately jumped in surprise and recoiled. He raised his hands.

- Oh I'm sorry I didn't mean to be inappropriate.

And he didn't, but now looking at the lovely blush on her face as she scratched her own arm, he was starting to doubt himself.

- No no, it's fine! I was just surprised, I’m sorry.

The girl gave him an embarrassed smile, and the expression shown in her eyes made him remember the way she looked that morning in the pool.

The memory of her half naked body made the blood rush to his face once again, and he turned his back to her, so she wouldn’t see it. Good grief, he was getting worse by the day, he really needed to find a girlfriend, fast!

“Pero sólo me gustas tú, solamente tú. Yo me imagino en la playa, contigo, en un cielo azul.”

Mentally scolding himself, he cleared his throat, trying to concentrate on the class.

- Anyway, you’re doing well, I just want you to relax a little more, you can't be so tense or your body won't cooperate.

- I feel silly, to be honest.

He turned to face her again.

- Silly?

- Yes, to be dancing on my own while you're watching.

She let out a nervous little laugh.

- Then... why don't we try together? Maybe it'll make you feel more comfortable.

Zen walked to her and showed her how to position herself when dancing with a partner. Then he gently took her in his arms.

“Hey DJ, póngale la música que le gusta, una para que se mueva y se luzca, y baile conmigo, sólo conmigo, hey!”

- The steps are the same, the only difference is that now you have someone in front of you. So now: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight and keep your frame.

The girl bit her bottom lip in concentration. To help her, Zen kept counting the steps, and although she wasn't missing them, she was still too stiff.

Seemingly aware that something was off, she looked at their feet, but Zen admonished her.

- No, don't look at your feet, look up.

He raised her chin with his fingers and her chocolate brown eyes found his. Even puffy and with the dark circles, for a second Zen was sure he had never seen prettier ones, and he couldn’t look away. The distraction, however, made her stumble and he had to hold her close to prevent her from falling on her butt.

- Oh, no! I’m so sorry!

- It’s fine, it happens all the time, don’t worry.

- No, I…

A poorly muffled laugh interrupted the girl and they both looked at the door, where a woman's silhouette could be seen against the sun light that was pouring in.

Summers immediately straightened herself up, taking a step back, away from his arms, her eyes glued to the floor.

- I don’t think I can do this… I’m wasting your time.

- No, not at all, we just started…

- I’m sorry.

She bowed shortly and retreated, not raising her eyes from the floor once.

The young girl at the door moved away with a smile on her face, allowing the other one passage. Zen’s voice sounded more annoyed than he expected, when he spoke to her.

- Kinjyun, I thought I told you not to interrupt my classes again.

Kinjyun gave him her famous ‘innocent puppy eye’ look.

- Oh, I’m sorry, oppa. But honestly, the way I see it, I just helped you big time.

- You embarrassed her. She will probably give up the lessons now.

Zen walked to the door and watched as his client ran away at a fast pace.

- I'd say it's no big loss. I'm sure you'll have someone ready to fill her spot in about 3 seconds, oppa.

He knew his partner was right, but that wasn't the point. He had asked that girl personally to join the lessons and she had trusted him enough to give it a try. But now he felt like he had failed her, and for the second time in two days, he found himself looking at the girl’s retrieting back.

Music: Hey DJ by CNCO ft Meghan Tainor

And if you haven’t read it yet, here you can find the previous chapter:

Chapter 1

#mysme beach resort au #mysme #zen hyun ryu #ella #eco girl #chapter 2 - the night nymph #a dirty dancing inspired au

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