Felicity's Beast World Apocalypse-Chapter 100: Sugar

Sarge looked down at it.

Then at her.

Then back at it.

He took it without a word.

"For Legend," she added, passing the other one off to Kai to deliver.

Finally she stopped in front of Sam.

She handed him his strudel directly "I made this for you," she said.

His fingers brushed hers when he took it.

"I know today was hard," she added quietly. "Thank you. Really."

Sam swallowed.

He nodded once.

Felicity looked at all of them again, cheeks pink now.

"I know it does not fix everything," she said quickly. "But I wanted to make something warm."

No one spoke for a long moment.

The world felt smaller.

Marx looked down at his pastry and then back up at her "You made these," he said slowly.

"Yes."

"By hand."

"Yes."

"For us."

She nodded.

Sarge’s voice was low and even. "You did not have to."

"I wanted to," she replied.

That hit harder than anything else had all evening.

Her cheeks flushed deeper.

"Thank you," she said again, softer this time. Then she seemed to realise she was standing in the middle of a hardened group of men while covered in flour and sugar and sincerity she made a small embarrassed sound.

Victor’s wing shifted slightly behind her.

She ducked her head.

"Okay," she said quickly. "I am going back inside now."

She turned abruptly and nearly tripped over her own boots in her hurry.

Victor stepped smoothly after her without comment.

The seam opened golden light swallowed her again, She vanished.

Victor followed silently.

The seam sealed.

Snow Team stood in silence.

Marx looked down at the pastry in his hands.

He broke off a piece slowly he took a bite.

His eyes closed.

"Holy hell," he muttered.

Kai tasted his next.

Ash followed.

Pope inhaled deeply before eating, like it required ceremony.

Shadow took a measured bite.

Draco did the same.

Sarge stood there a moment longer, staring at the meat pie in his hands as if it were something foreign, then he took a bite. He chewed once, twice his jaw tightened.

In restraint.

Sam was still staring at his he finally took a bite, his shoulders dropped. The tremor that had haunted him earlier vanished completely.

Marx looked around at them all "she came out covered in flour," he said.

Kai nodded "she said thank you."

Ash shook his head faintly.

Sarge swallowed and looked toward the sealed seam of golden light "she did not look back," he said quietly.

No one answered each of them stood there holding something warm in their hands in the middle of a ruined world and for the first time since the world turned red, none of them felt cold.

The seam sealed behind her and the cold orchard vanished.

Warm grass replaced cracked asphalt. Lantern light washed over her flour covered sleeves. The scent of cinnamon and butter still clung to her hair.

And all four of her husbands were waiting they had not moved far from where she left them, they had not relaxed.

They had simply been watching the seam.

Voss noticed first his ears tilted forward as soon as the golden shimmer stabilised. His gaze moved over her slowly, taking in the sugar in her braid, the streak of dough along her hip, the pink in her cheeks.

Ivan’s eyes followed next, steady and quiet, lingering on the way she was half-hiding behind Victor’s wing as if she had just committed something scandalous instead of baking.

Damien did not bother hiding his reaction his gaze dragged over her like a slow hand.

Victor stepped fully into the space behind her and let the seam close.

She did not look at any of them she tried to walk past.

Tried being the key word.

Damien caught her easily.

One smooth step. One arm around her waist. He lifted her off the ground before she could dart away and turned her so her back was against his chest.

She squeaked.

"Where are you going," he murmured near her ear.

"Nowhere," she replied quickly.

Her face was bright red she smelled like sugar, her hands were still faintly dusted with flour.

Damien looked down at her sleeve and brushed his thumb over the streak of dough there, slow and deliberate "Shhh," he said softly. "Little girl."

Her breath caught.

"You are so dirty now," he continued calmly, voice dropping lower. "We better get you cleaned up."

Victor’s mouth curved faintly.

Ivan’s jaw tightened slightly.

Voss’s tail gave one slow sweep behind him.

"I just.. I was cooking," she said weakly.

Damien’s fingers slid from her waist up to her shoulder, tracing the path of flour along her skin. "You are covered in evidence."

Victor stepped closer, red eyes glinting in lantern light. "She ran."

"She did," Voss agreed quietly.

"I did not run," Felicity protested.

Ivan raised a brow. "You attempted to."

Damien adjusted his hold so she was cradled fully in his arms now, her feet no longer touching grass.

"You walked into a group of armed men covered in sugar," Victor said. "Blushed. Said thank you. And fled."

Her ears burned.

Damien’s smirk deepened just enough to be dangerous. "Brave."

Felicity buried her face briefly against Damien’s shoulder in embarrassment.

They did not let her hide.

Ivan stepped forward and brushed his knuckles gently along her cheek, collecting a faint dusting of flour with the pad of his thumb. He looked at it like it fascinated him.

"You baked for them," he said quietly.

"Yes."

"After everything."

"Yes."

Voss moved closer and gently tugged at the edge of her braid where sugar had caught in the strands. "You smell sweet."

Her pulse jumped.

Damien adjusted his grip slightly, not letting her slip away. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

"You walked back out there glowing," Victor said softly, circling her now instead of standing behind. "Like nothing can stain you."

Her breathing grew uneven "I just wanted them to feel warm," she murmured.

Victor stepped in close enough that she could feel the heat of him without him touching her "And what about us," he asked.

She blinked.

Damien’s hand moved slowly down her side, over the soft fabric now dusted with sugar and flour. "We have been very disciplined."

Ivan’s gaze darkened slightly. "Very."

Voss’s voice was low and steady. "And you came back flushed."

Her heart pounded.

"I was embarrassed," she insisted.

Victor leaned in, brushing his knuckles lightly under her chin so she had to look at him "you like when they look at you like that," he said.

Her breath caught.

Damien chuckled softly near her ear. "She does."

Ivan did not laugh.

"She likes being needed," he said.

Voss’s grip on her braid tightened gently before releasing. "She likes being the center."

Felicity swallowed.

"You are not helping," she muttered.

Damien shifted her slightly higher in his arms and began walking not toward the kitchen towards the stream.

Victor fell into step beside him.

Ivan followed, silent and steady.

Voss stayed close enough that his shoulder brushed Damien’s as they moved.

Lantern light flickered overhead.

The grass was soft beneath Damien’s boots.

"You said two day rotation," Felicity reminded weakly.

"Yes," Victor replied.

"This is still the same day."

"Yes," Ivan agreed calmly.

Damien’s lips brushed the shell of her ear. "We are not arguing about rotation."

Voss’s voice was quiet and certain. "We are cleaning you."

Her breath hitched again.

Victor reached out and let his fingers trail through her sugar dusted hair. "You walked back into war smelling like cinnamon."

Damien stepped down into the shallow water, boots sinking slightly into the soft edge of the stream "and you expect us to behave," he murmured.

Felicity clutched his shirt instinctively.

Victor’s wings shifted slightly in anticipation.

And Felicity realised, a second too late, that running had only made it worse.

Water lapped at her ankles, cold and bright. Damien set her down in the stream’s heart and held her by the waist as if she was the only anchor he recognized. She did not protest, though her whole body trembled, as if she was the animal and they the hunters, and she had run long enough to know capture was inevitable.

Victor knelt at the bank and cupped her cheek, smearing a wet thumb across flour, sugar, heat. "We just want you clean," he promised, as though that was all. As though she was not already melting.

Ivan’s hands worked with slow, deliberate reverence. He unbuttoned her dress, one button at a time, careful not to tear. His jaw was tight, but his eyes were gentle, and when the dress slipped from her shoulders, he caught it before it could fall all the way, draping it over a rock like some small dignity preserved.

Felicity stood blinking in the cold, stripped to her bralette and panties, the air pinching her nipples into hard peaks beneath. She could not look up, but she felt their eyes on her felt how their restraint had thinned to a trembling thread.

Damien was first to touch her, fingertips trailing from her shoulder, down her spine, pausing at the sweet dip above her tail. "Sticky," he observed dryly, as if he might scold her for it, but then he pressed his nose to her neck and inhaled so deeply she felt the drag of his breath over her skin.