There were so many great prompts from Thursday, but the one that stuck in my head was from @lezbfrenz, who asked “does dean consider cheesecake as pie?” That led to a 2-hour Twitter discussion and this 1.2k fic beta read by @pomegranatedaffodil and @areiton. Established Dean/Cas + Sam.
Dean knew he should’ve ordered that second cup of coffee before they left the diner, but he was determined to reach the bunker tonight, and the longer they’d sat in the booth, the more tempting the adjacent motel’s neon vacancy sign had started to look. Ignoring Sam’s suggestion that they check in for the night, Dean had signaled for the check. He’d filled his quota of burned motel coffee for a few dozen lifetimes.
He’d thought he was fine to drive–he’d gotten six hours last night after Cas insisted on rubbing his back–but with each mile, the monotony of the flat highway crept into his brain like fog, that out-of-body sensation that comes only with bone-deep exhaustion. He operated the car by muscle memory, spacing out between mile markers, and rubbed his eyes. If he could get them to water, that might revive him, but they were dry as charred bone. Normally he’d turn on the radio, but Cas was dozing in the back seat and Dean knew better than to wake him, since a sleep-deprived Castiel was only endearing in twenty-minute sprints.
Sam, though — Sam didn’t get off so easily. His head lolled against the passenger’s side window and his eyes were closed, but he repeatedly swept his tongue across his teeth in a manner that told Dean he was still awake.
“Hey.”
“What is it?” Sam yawned and belatedly covered his mouth. He pulled himself upright. “You want me to drive?”
“Just talk to me. Everything’s starting to look the same.”
Sam looked thoughtful for a moment and said, seriously, “Actually, something’s been bothering me since we left the diner.”
“Boston Cream Pie is a damned lie and it can blow me.”
Oh my god! I’ve pretty much said the same thing to my husband.
I’ve got to agree with Dean on both the Boston Cream Pie and cheesecake assessments.
I was fooled last year by someone I trusted! I, a cake hater, put that in my mouth. Bleh!!!
You’re wrong @unforth-ninawaters, even Dean would agree. Boston Creme pie is a lie! @rosemoonweaver this is what I was talking about. You’ll have to go to museaway’s blog for the whole thing.
Oh my gosh, this was the fic I was looking for! Yes! Cheesecake is not pie!
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural Rating: General Audiences Words: 1518 Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Castiel, Dean Winchester, Mary Winchester Additional Tags: Kid Fic, Creature Castiel, octo!cas, Stuffed Toys, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Adorable Summary:
Castiel
was definitely somewhere he shouldn’t be. He was always told that
humans were dangerous. But surely this tiny human making the distressed
sounds couldn’t be dangerous.
(lol I kinda deviated from the prompt but this is still about them getting a pet. And it’s only 978 words so I call this a win)
“We
should get a dog.”
Dean
squirted syrup on the table instead of his waffles. “What?” He
squawked as his head whipped up so he could stare at Sam.
Sam turned
his laptop screen to show a golden retriever puppy. “She was found
on the edge of town last week and is at the local shelter.”
“We’re
not getting a dog.” Dean grabbed a napkin from the centre of the
table and began mopping up the syrup. “We’ve had this
conversation like 9487 times, Sam. No dogs in the car. Period. Not to
mention what would we do with it when we went on hunts? Sometimes
we’re not home for weeks at a time. You can’t just leave a dog
alone that long!
Sam
sighed. “Well if you don’t want dogs in the Impala we could get
like a van.”
“A van.”
Dean said, voice flat.
“Yah, you
know. Like a car, but-”
“I’m
not stu- I know what a fucking van is, Sam. And you really want to
drive around the country looking like a couple soccer moms?”
“Well I
was just thinking what with Cas coming with us more it would be nice
to have more room in the car is all.”
“I’m
not driving around the country in a goddamn van. You can drive
whatever you want but I won’t be caught dead in one of those.”
Dean grabbed the syrup, smothered his waffles, and began aggressively
eating them.
“A dog
would be nice.”
Dean nearly
flung the piece of waffle he’d been trying to put in his mouth. He
spun around in his chair to find Cas standing RIGHT behind him. “Cas!
Personal space.”
“Apologies.”
Cas moved around the table so that he could look at Sam’s laptop
screen. “Dogs do have heightened senses
and can usually tell when someone is not human. It could be quite
useful.”
“Cas is
right. Remember Bobby had Rumsfeld until-” Sam’s mouth snapped
shut. He shook his head and continued speaking, “uhh point is he
had a dog.”
“I’m
still not getting a damn dog.” Dean scowled at both Cas and Sam.
“Well then, how about a
cat?” Sam asked.
Dean’s scowl deepened, “I’m
allergic to cats, remember?”
“We could
get a bird.” Cas said.
“Absolutely
not.” Dean said.
“How
about… a rabbit?”
“May-
what no. We’re not getting a damn pet, OK?”
Dean put down his fork and sighed. There
was no way he was eating his waffles while Cas
and Sam suggested any animal they could think of.
“This isn’t Snow White, we can’t have birds and rabbits
and shit running around the bunker. We’re not here half the time
and I don’t want to be stepping animal crap or piss.”
He stood up, chair scraping loudly across the floor, and grabbed his
plate of waffles. “I’ll be in my room. And I swear to god if I
come out here later and find a dog…” he continued to swear and
muttered to himself as he stalked out of the room.
-x-x-x-
The whole
pet thing never came up again until Illinois 2 weeks later. Well
verbally anyway. Nearly every day Sam or Cas had sent him a picture
of a dog they’d seen out on a walk or a wild animal they’d seen
around the bunker. It was getting ridiculous and Dean probably would
have eventually caved had they not found a case finally.
The whole
thing was a mess and ended ugly. A woman
had gotten turned into a werewolf and had subsequently accidentally
eaten three of her neighbours. They’d
eventually caught her trying to eat neighbour number 4. Sam was with
the last victim at the hospital while Cas and Dean were cleaning up
after having disposed of the body. The woman had tried to eat them,
the least she could do now was let them wash up a little in her
kitchen.
“Did she
have any next of kin?” Cas asked.
Dean
frowned as he thought for a moment. “I don’t think so? Maybe like
a cousin or something out of state.
Why?”
“Well…”
Cas fell silent and there was the sound of shuffling from
the other room. A moment later Cas came into the kitchen, a ball of
fur in each hand. “She had guinea pigs.”
Dean just
stared at the guinea pigs, unsure what to say. One of them looked up
at him and wheeked.
“You know,” Cas gently
stroked the side of the guinea pig that had wheeked with his thumb.
“Pets are great for people with anxiety.”
Dean gaped at Cas. “Yah
well…” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Whatever. I guess you
can bring them with us. But only because they got nowhere else to go.
And when you tell Sam you tell him I put up way more of a fight.”
“Thank you, Dean.” The
smile he gave Dean was radiant.
“I’m just… gonna wipe
things down for prints. Or whatever. Maybe you should like grab their
cage or food or something.” Dean nervously started wiping down
anything he thought he’d touched in the house. “And like their
toys. Guinea pigs have toys, right?” Shit he was going to have to
read up on guinea pigs now.
-x-x-x-
As they
were driving down the highway Dean couldn’t help but smile whenever
he glanced in the rear-view mirror. Cas had his trench coat laying in
his lap and on top of it were two little balls of fur. Their cage was
sitting on the seat next to Cas. Dean had
argued that they should stay in their cage
but Cas had insisted that he would make sure no excrement or other
fluids would make it onto Baby’s upholstery.
One of the
guinea pigs woke up and started making happy little sounds as Cas
gently petted it. Dean
smiled, maybe this pet thing wouldn’t be so bad.
“Please don’t do this,” Sam whined as he slumped into his bar stool.
“No, I want to see!” Charlie said. “Sam whines about it all the time but it can’t be that bad, right?”
“Exactly!” Dean winked at her and she winked back, though the rest of their group didn’t seem to notice the exchange. He turned to Cas. Cas had a small smile but other than that seemed as stoic as ever. “You wanna go first or should I?”
“You go first.”
“Okay.”
After rolling his shoulders a few times, he looked Cas straight in the eyes and said, “Are you the energizer bunny? ‘Cause you just keep going and going through my mind.”
Charlie snorted and Sam banged his head against the table.
Cas didn’t react, but somehow managed to keep a straight face as he said, “If I was a fox, I’d jump in your hole.”
“Oh god!” Sam downed half his beer and glared at Charlie for starting this.
Ignoring him, Dean continued. “Is there a rainbow out today? Because I just found the treasure I’m looking for.”
Cas: “You look so familiar… didn’t we take a class together? I could’ve sworn we had chemistry.”
Dean: “
I wanna live in your socks so I can be with you every step of the way.“
Cas: “
If you were a vegetable you’d be a cute-cumber.
“
On and on it went until Dean had psyched himself up enough. He felt Charlie’s encouraging look as he reached into his pocket and got ready.
“Hey babe, feel my shirt.”
Dean held out his arm and Cas played along, feeling the flannel between his fingers. “It’s nice. What’s it made out of?”
God he loved Cas so much for feeding him the line.
“Husband material.” And then, before he could freak out too much, he slid the ring box across the table.
“Holy shit,” Sam breathed. Jo gasped and Garth squealed slightly. Benny choked on his drink but managed not to cough too loudly as all eyes turned to Cas.
Cas looked absolutely stunned as he sat there frozen. Dean was starting to think this was a bad idea, but then Charlie gave a loud a-HEM and Cas snapped out of it. With a huge smile, he reached down for the ring.
“I think you’re right,” he said as he slipped the ring on. “It is made of husband material.”
The whole group whooped and hollered. Dean pretty much tackled Cas in a kiss before waving over the bartender and ordering a round for everybody. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Cas crowded into Dean’s space, Dean kept an arm around Cas’ back or over his shoulders or maybe just holding hands. Made it hard to do the toast, but they made it work.
SPN Rare Ship CC: Round 8 | rosemoonweaver vs. @jelly-beans-and-gstrings Prompt: Alien Armpit Ship: Sam/Brady Word Count: 549 Tags/Warnings: poetry, bad poetry (intentionally), first love, college, canon vesrse, pre-canon, sad ending, mild sexual content Summary: A series to poems from Sam and Brady. AO3 Link
Dearest Sam,
My majestic moose
You’re truly a gift to this world.
Your eyes are like bottled sunshine
Lighting up every dark corner of my world.
There has never been a person more kind or beautiful,
And I am enraptured.
Brady
You wore the cornflower tie I first saw you in the other day.
I never thought I’d wind up thinking cornflower, of all things, attractive,
but there is it and there you are
and I find myself wanting to thread it through my fingers and pull you close
to feel your stubble against my cheeks
your thin lips against my own
to see the twinkle in your eyes up close –
and fall in love all over again.
Sam
I feel in love in a comic shop
I remember it vividly,
The scent of plastic and ink,
The slick laminate floor beneath my feet,
The bright green walls all around – the color of an alien’s armpit –
And I should have known I’d find someone so out of this world there.
You fought me on the merits of Black Canary vs. Black Widow
I wanted to take you out back
And kiss you breathless
You were so passionate about it.
I fall in love with you every time you tell me how wrong I am.
Brady
I saw you crying the other day. You didn’t see me, but I was there.
I wonder what could be so bad,
to make someone so beautiful so sad.
I wish I could take it all away.
If I had the power, I’d erase anything that would dare make your smile fade
I’d chase away all the darkness from your life,
and I’d bottle your laughter for my own rainy days.
It would be worth it, to take your suffering on as my own
If only I could hold you in my arms for the rest of my life.
Sam
I used to wonder if people were destined to be together
Now I’m fairly sure I know.
Your hands fit perfectly with mine,
Like we were made to fit together.
Your lips against mine, the way we grind together,
It’s like magic,
Two parts of the same whole,
Fitting together in perfect unity.
It’s breathtaking.
Brady
I love you.
They’re words I never knew I could feel on my own lips
much less directed at someone I’m not related to.
They’re like candy, sweet, and addictive, full of a rush I never knew I could have.
I sometimes wonder what my father would say – if he would care at all –
but I know I don’t care.
You’re precious to me – a diamond in the coal mine of my life
and I’m never letting you go.
I love you now.
I’ll love you forever.
Sam
Brady,
It’s been years since we last wrote to each other.
I wonder what happened – what made you change –
but I have to accept that you are not the same person you once were.
SPN Rare Ship CC: Round 8 | rosemoonweaver vs. @lux-tuli Prompt: Fuzzy Wuzzy Ship: Anna/Ruby Word Count: 1,517 Tags/Warnings: domestic, kid fic, schizophrenia, mental illness, slice of life, adoption, nightmares, anna and ruby are moms, AU – human Summary: Jesse had a bad dream. Unfortunately, that’s common these days, and Anna starts to worry. A/N: Apparently, color prompts are not my strong suit. The “color” is the teddy bear, Mr. Fuzzy. AO3 Link
Anna awoke with the vague, eerie feeling that she was being watched. She held her breath for a moment, talking in the darkness around her before shifting away from her wife and rolling her head towards the door. The hall light was still out, but there was a vague shape at the side of the bed and a tiny whimper.
Anna rolled over, flailing at the lamp on her bedside table until she was finally able to turn the light on. There, standing next to the dresser was Jesse, teddy bear clutched tight to his chest, tear stains on his cheeks.
“Oh, baby,” Anna breathed, flipping the blanket off and sitting up in bed. Beside her, Ruby grumbled awake.
“What happened? Why are you crying?” Anna asked, thumbing the tears away from his chubby little cheeks.
“Bad dream,” he whimpered, chin tucked close to his chest.
Anna wrapped him in her arms, holding him close to her chest and rocking back and forth. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry.”
“What’s going on?” Ruby asked, flipping on her own light and scooting into Anna’s space.
“Jesse had a bad dream.”
Ruby reached over her shoulder, stroking Jesse’s soft hair. The two locked eyes for a brief moment. Jesse had been having nightmares more and more often and it was starting to worry both Anna and Ruby. The adoption had only been final for about six months, and the nightmare had started at around the same time. Ruby had worried that the two might have something to do with each other, and as they kept getting worse, Anna was starting to worry the same thing. She’d thought, at first, that he might be the same way that she was as a child, experiencing night terrors and horrible vivid dreams for years before her first psychotic episode as a young adult. The thought had worried her much more than the nightmares being a result of adoption stress. Now though, she wasn’t sure which of the issues she would prefer them to be. Psychosis, as well as Anna, had managed it so far, was not fun in the slightest, but it broke her heart that the reason he was stressed might be her fault in some way.
Jesse’s therapist still hadn’t come to a decision yet. She’d said that he was a fairly happy, pleasant kid, and the nightmare were unpleasant, but she wasn’t willing to rule out stress just yet. After all, the kid had just been adopted, had a birthday, and started a new grade all in the span of a few months. That had to be enough to stress any kid out.
“You wanna sleep with mom and me?” Ruby asked.
Jesse nodded against Anna’s chest. “Mr. Fuzzy, too,” he mumbled.
“Of course. Can’t leave Mr. Fuzzy out,” Ruby said, stroking the hair on the back of his neck.
She scooted back on her side of the bed, pulling the blanket down and flicking off her bedside light. Anna pulled Jesse into her lap, not an easy feat considering he was nearly sixty pounds of sleepy, dead weight, and scooted back on the bed. Jesse climbed off her lap and shimmied onto the bed, resting his head on Ruby’s pillow. He looked up at the two of them, eyes still wet but no longer whimpering, and curled into Ruby as she lay down.
“You okay there, kiddo?”
Jesse nodded.
Anna frowned, curling around her son and stroking his back. “I love you little bug,” she said.
“Love you too, mommas.”
It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep. Ruby followed soon after, and Anna didn’t get a chance to talk to her before she did. Anna lay awake for most of the night, falling into a light and fitful sleep when she actually slept.
~~~
The next morning was a weekend, so at least Anna and Ruby could sleep in a little before they had to get up and to things. Or, that was the plan at least. Jesse was determined to get up and play not later than nine in the morning, so Ruby graciously volunteered to feed him and toss a ball around with him while Anna got a little more sleep. She finally crawled out of bed a little after ten in the morning and dragged herself into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. She was halfway through her first cup when Ruby came back in through the back door, her face red already.
“He’s really making you work for it today, isn’t he?” Anna asked.
Ruby laughed, pulling two water bottles out of the fridge. “He’s getting fast.”
“How’s he doing today?”
Ruby leaned back against the fridge door, screwing the cap off the water bottle and chugging half of it. “Same as he usually is.”
Anna nodded, staring out the window. Jesse was kicking a soccer ball around in the grass, kicking it too far ahead of him and racing to get it before whatever imaginary players he was pretending to play against got it first. He kicked the ball at the fence and jumped up and down, pumping his fists in the air.
“I’m worried about him,” Anna said.
Ruby slid up beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist. She set her chin on Anna’s shoulder and sighed. “Yeah, I know.”
“What if it’s our fault,” Anna said.
Ruby frowned, and Anna could see her rolling her eyes out of the corners of her own.
“Babe, we’ve been through this. Whatever’s up with Jesse isn’t because of us.”
“But if it’s stress it’s gotta be us right?”
“If it is he’d be having these issues regardless of who winded up adopting him.”
Anna sighed. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.” She swirled her lukewarm coffee around in the cup.
“You’re worried it isn’t just stress, aren’t you?”
“It’s too early to tell if it’s anything more serious,” Anna said, draining the last of her cup.
“And that bothers you.”
“You know it does.”
Ruby sighed, squeezing Anna tighter around the middle. “If it is there’s not a lot we can do about it until something more happens.”
“I know,” Anna groaned. “I just wish we could do something now. I don’t like it that he’s having trouble like this. If it’s just stress and it’s only nightmares and night terror, why can’t they give him something to help him sleep?”
Ruby stroked up and down Anna’s arms, swaying back and forth softly. “I don’t know babe.”
“And if it’s more than that you’d think they’d know.”
Ruby hummed again. “You’d think.”
“I’m just worried, Ruby. I don’t want him to have to live his life needing medication. I know it helps and if he has to have it I want him to have it, don’t get me wrong, I just – I don’t want him to have to need it.”
“Yeah, but, at least he has you to help him through it if it is something more serious.”
Anna rolled her eyes. “I could barely manage myself for years. I’m not exactly a role model for managing mental illness.”
“Maybe not, but at least you understand it. If it was me before I met you, geez, I dunno. I don’t think I would’ve even known what to do about it. I’d probably say and do all the wrong things. At least you know what he’s going through. That’s gotta count for something, right?”
“Maybe.”
“And yeah, it took you a while to get a handle on it, but you’ve got it pretty much under control now.”
“After thirty years.”
“Better than sixty.”
Anna sighed again, setting her coffee cup down on the counter and turning in Ruby’s arms. “I guess.”
“Think of it this way, if it is something serious, like some kind of sign of psychosis later you have a better understanding of that then most people do. If it’s just stress it will go away and we’ll look back on this and give Jesse shit about it when he has his own kids who keep him up at night. But if it’s more than that, well, maybe there’s a reason you’re his mom.”
Anna huffed a chuckle. “Fate? Really, Ruby?”
Ruby shrugged. “I dunno. Could be. I don’t know all the secrets of the universe.”
Anna shook her head and kissed her wife on the forehead.
“I just know,” Ruby said, “that if anyone is cut out to be the best mom for Jesse, it’s you.”
“I dunno, I’d say there’s definitely one other person who might be up there, too.”
Ruby rolled her eyes and smiled. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta teach the kid to kick a ball.”
They pulled away and Ruby chugged the rest of her water before tossing the empty bottle in the trash and swiping the still unopened bottle off the counter. “Speaking of which,” she pointed towards the back door.
Anna watched her go, smiling as she watched her wife and child play. Hopefully, the nightmares would fade over time, but if they didn’t, well, she and Ruby would be there for their son, no matter what.
SPN Rare Ship CC: Round 8 | rosemoonweaver vs. @mariaghost Prompt: Jelly Bean Ship: Meg/Abaddon Word Count: 1,610 Tags/Warnings: AU – human, 1920′s (ish?), burlesque dancers, burlesque dancer!Abaddon, nudity, mild sexual content, open relationships, love notes (more like lust notes honestly), lipstick kink (if that’s a thing) A/N: The prompt is the color of Meg’s lipstick. I didn’t name it, but the color can be found over here. Summary: There’s a note on Abaddon’s vanity. AO3 Link
There was a note on her vanity.
Abaddon was no stranger to love notes. She got them at least three times a week. So many lonely men would try to sneak her letters, whether they slid them to the server girls or tried to sneak backstage to leave them for her to find, or even slipped them into her bodice when she walked the floor, but very few of them actually succeeded in catching her attention. Most of the time she checked the names at the bottom first. If it was someone important, a senator or a businessman, or a bootlegger, she’d respond with a little light flirting. If it was a name she didn’t recognize, it went in the trash. Most of them were the same. They’d compare her to the moon, to the sun, drown in the dark pools of her eyes, and beg to lose themselves in her legs. Most of them were written on the same kind of paper, too, all place white and black in. There was so little imagination to any of them.
This one, however, was different. For one, it was on her vanity. No man had ever managed to get backstage unless of course they were invited, and Abaddon hadn’t invited anyone back in at least a week. None of the other girls had, either, to her knowledge. This note was also in an actual envelope sealed with wax.
Abaddon pulled her silk robe tighter around her shoulders, popping the wax off the envelope with her nail. The note had been written on light pink paper.
Temptress:
I’m not one for poetry, but you’ve spurred me to put ink to paper.
You’re wicked, igniting me to my core, burning me from the inside out, and I can’t be bothered to care.
The way you bat your eyes, the way you flaunt your soft curves; I just can’t help myself.
I haven’t known the touch of a woman in years and yet – you make me ache.
I have to wonder if you’re soft all the time or if you bite and rake your nails down the backs of those fortunate to lie with you.
I wonder, do your thighs tremble when you’re breathless in pleasure like mine do when I dare to pretend the one touching me is you?
It was signed with a single letter, an M in hasty, jagged script.
Abaddon blinked a few times before folding the note back up and slipping it back into its envelope. It was certainly one of the more explicit notes she’d ever gotten. Not that she minded, though. She’d take explicit over the flowery notes any day of the week. The M was new, though. She thought back to the men she knew who frequented the club, even the ones that usually paid attention to the other girls. She drew a blank but resolved to take the note home with her.
~~~~
I saw your fan dance.
It’s funny, that you’re up on stage flutter those glittery fans, your breasts peeking from behind those feathery curtains like you’re some kind of angel but I know better.
You’re wicked; some kind of demon sent to drag me to hell.
I would go willingly because even the fires of damnation couldn’t scorch me the way your gaze does.
Even Hell might be some kind of Heaven if I got the chance to taste the sweat on your skin or the nectar between your thighs.
– M
It was the second note Abaddon had gotten in less than a week. Apparently, this M was a new admirer of hers, but she hadn’t seen anyone new in the crowd the past few nights. Perhaps it was a shy man who’d only now got the courage to leave her messages. That was fine, too, but she wished she knew who it was. If it was someone who’d bribed their way back here it was fine, but it was someone who’d snuck back that could be dangerous. She decided she’d wait a week to tell the manager, Alistair. If he thought it was something to worry about, then she’d keep an eye out, but as the notes were only lustful and didn’t demand any kind of meeting yet, she didn’t figure it would be an issue.
She slipped the note into her purse and decided to take it back home and keep it with the other one.
~~~~
Alistair had placed an additional bouncer at the entrance to the dressing rooms, so whoever left the note by Abaddon’s flower vase must have been paying. This was the fourth note in as many weeks, written on the same paper, signed with the same initial. She’d have to ask the bouncer who he’d let pass because she was starting to get curious about this mysterious admirer of hers.
I wonder if you’ve been keeping these notes. You must get so many day-to-day that it isn’t even of consequence to you. I might be as easily overlooked here as I am among the crowd. But you’re not. You could never be. How no one has snatched you up and away from this world, from my eyes, is a wonder to me.
Perhaps you aren’t interested in their affections? Perhaps they could never please you the way you’d want? I wonder if you’ve ever know the touch of a woman?
– M
Abaddon smiled, reading the note over again. So, this mystery man wasn’t actually a man at all. This could be interesting. She hadn’t taken a female lover in quite some time, but she wasn’t opposed.
Abaddon tucked her admirer’s note into her purse and set out to write her own note, asking her admirer to meet sometime within the next week. She slipped the note under the flower vase and hoped for the best. It stayed there for there more days and then it was gone.
~~~~
Abaddon hadn’t gotten another note in a week and a half. It was a little disappointing if she were honest. It was intriguing to have another woman interested in her instead of yet another man. Perhaps her offer to meet had scared her admirer off. Some women liked to entertain the thought of a female lover but were too afraid to make the leap. It was alright, though, Abaddon had been there herself, once upon a time. She did hope it would change for her admirer, though. It would be a shame if she didn’t allow herself to explore because she was afraid.
There was a soft knock at Abaddon’s dressing room door. Her set was over, so it was probably just one of the girls.
“Come in,” she called, watching the door through the mirror. It swung open, and Abaddon locked eyes with a woman she’d never seen before through the mirror. “Can I help you?” She asked.
“You requested a meeting,” the woman said.
“Did I?”
“Your note was addressed to me, I believe.”
Abaddon swung around on her stool, crossing her ankles and leaning her legs to the side, letting her knee fall out of the open slit of her robe. “You must be M, then.”
“Meg. Masters. But you can call me Meg.”
“The bootlegger’s wife?”
“He knows I’m here,” Meg said, slipping into the room and shutting the door behind her. She was wearing a fur around her shoulders, but other than that her outfit attracted no attention. She wasn’t even wearing make-up aside from the nude pink lipstick on her lips.
“If he wanted to proposition me he could have done it himself.”
“Oh, believe me, he would have.” Meg was now standing less than a foot away and Abaddon allowed her gaze to fall down Meg’s form. The dress she wore didn’t hint at any of the curves of her body. “I’m here on my own account.”
“Oh?”
Meg hummed, stepping into Abaddon’s space. “I was wondering if you’d accompany me for the evening. My husband has business to attend to, so I’ll be alone the whole night.”
Abaddon smirked. Meg’s perfume wafted off her skin. It was a soft, spicy scent like cloves and sugar. “I don’t usually keep housewives company.”
Meg laughed. “I’m not looking for a lot more than company.”
“You’re looking for… what exactly?” Abaddon asked. She knew good and well what Meg was interested in but she wanted to hear her say it. She wasn’t one to be propositioned in vague terms.
“Sex,” Meg said, slipping her hand up Abaddon’s knee, stopping midway up her thigh.
“Is it going to be worth my while?” Abaddon asked.
Meg smirked, her eyes lingering at the top of Abaddon’s robe and the hint of cleavage there. “Definitely.”
~~~~
It had been three weeks since Meg took her back to the home she shared with her husband; three weeks since they writhed together on Meg’s silk sheets hands tugging in hair and tongues laving against skin. It had been some of the best sex Abaddon had had in a long time. It had been a shame it had come to an end so soon.
There was a note on Abaddon’s vanity. She smiled to herself, pulling it out of its envelope.
I’d love to see you again.
I’ll be around after midnight if you’ll wait for me.
– Meg
PS. There’s a tube of my lipstick on the vanity. It looked so good smeared across your neck last time. I think it’d look lovely smeared across my thighs.
Abaddon chuckled to herself, finding the golden tube of lipstick in front of her mirror. She wiped off her own dark red lipstick and pulled off the cap, applying the nude pink color to her lips.
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