Laundry and Other Stories
Written by Miss Malfaisant
Edited by dahliax
Disclaimer: I do not own Sweeney Todd. You do not either. But we can dream, can't we?
Setting: Set during the regained success of Mrs. Lovett's pie shop and Sweeney's murders before he kills the judge. Midnight.
Inspiration: This was inspired by Morwynn's beautiful creation - Sex and Chocolate. Go read it. It's fantastic.
Mrs. Lovett couldn't sleep.
It most likely had something to do with the boiling heat.
She couldn't remember when it had ever been this hot. The temperature outside must have been around ninety degrees all day. Hardly anyone had come in for a pie; it was depressing to see the empty cobblestone road radiating heat waves outside her open windows.
She threw off her bed sheets in frustration, realizing that her hair and her nightgown had somehow managed to cling to her sweating skin.
Groaning, she swung her thin legs over the side of the bed. Grabbing her pillow as an after thought, she carried it to the windowsill. She tried again to sleep, with her damp arms crossed upon it.
Not a single breeze disturbed the sweltering night air.
Standing, she drowsily walked to her bathroom, hoping that a splash of cold water on her face would help just a little bit. She was utterly exhausted; now the one time of the day she got to lay down she couldn't even nod off the tiniest bit. Figures.
The bathroom curtains were drawn, but a thin beam of moonlight peeked through, shining on the tiled floor. She twisted the faucet on, leaning down and bringing the cold water up to hit her cheeks. Raising her head up, she glanced at her pallid face in the mirror. Purple shadows under her heavily-lidded eyes gave her the appearance of a walking ghost, and her sunken cheeks did nothing to help that.
Ah, well. At least she had great breasts.
Not like he noticed.
She turned to walk back to her bedroom, but something in her reflection caught her glance. She looked back at the smudged glass, and narrowed her eyes - her features scrunching.
There was a basket of laundry sitting on a small table behind her. It was filled with Mr. T's shirts - washed and pressed at her hand. But beneath the woven basket she saw the smallest tip of a wrinkled sleeve -
She had forgotten to wash one of Mr. Todd's shirts.
She pivoted, bending down and lifting up the basket to pull out the shirt from under it. It must have fallen out. The blood that had drenched the entire sleeve and parts of the collar had since dried, and left the cotton a deep crimson. Specks of red dotted the front, like dark roses in a snow bank.
She lifted it to her nose, inhaling deeply. It smelled thickly of blood, but through the metallic scent she could smell him.
The sweet scent of her Mr. Todd.
He was her obsession. Her guilty pleasure. Her everything.
Standing, she shrugged the sticky nightgown off her shoulders. Her thin figure was illuminated by the shaft of moonlight through the lacy curtains, and her ivory skin glowed.
She slid her arms through the sleeves of his shirt, and buttoned the bottom few buttons up with shaking hands.
She spun, lifting her chin to look herself over in the mirror. The shirt ended just below the small of her back, and the few buttons she had done up ended below her bust line.
Tilting her head so her auburn curls fell over one shoulder, she traced a skeletal finger down the center of her chest in-between her breasts.
What would it be like, if Sweeney saw her like this? Dressed in his clothes, bathing herself in his scent.
She looked up at the ceiling towards the sound of his echoing footsteps. She let her eyelids flutter closed in thought.
"Mrs. Lovett?"
She yelped, spinning around and clutching the back of the sink for support.
Sweeney Todd was standing in the door way, glaring at her with one eyebrow raised.
"Nellie…" he looked her over, meeting her gaze with a smirk dancing on the corner of his lips. "Is my laundry finished?"
She raised a trembling hand and pointed to the basket.
He sneered gratefully and walked across the bathroom, picking his shirts up out of the basket and slowly counting them. "Mrs. Lovett, I do believe I gave you five shirts… this is only four." He looked back up at her, his eyes sparkling in the darkness. "I do believe I will need the other one back."
"I-I…" she stuttered, as she felt her cheeks grow a bright red. What the bloody hell was she supposed to say?
Sorry, I'm usin' this one righ' now Mistah T, can I give it back t' yeh lateh?
She swallowed, looking down as she began to un button his shirt. She closed her eyes, inhaling before she -
Suddenly she felt an overwhelming force push her up against the sink, and she was unable to breathe. She opened her eyes to see Mr. T's mouth crushing hers, and felt his hands slowly encircle her waist, sending warm shivers up her spine.
Unwilling to spend more than another moment trying to summarize the current situation, she let out a euphoric moan, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer to her to deepen the kiss.
Their breaths mingled; their tongues crashed together in their silently declared contest to see who could french the hardest.
Nellie pulled her bare leg up, wrapping it around his and felt his manhood press in between her legs. Their breathing deepened, and her heart raced as their passion flared and grew. Lacing their fingers into each other's hair, the competed for the upper hand; the lead in their position.
Sweeney won her over, moving his hands from her waist to slip inside her shirt - his shirt. She moaned into his mouth as he rubbed his thumb over her nipples and she felt them stiffen in response to his cold hands. The smell of his cologne and her sweat rose erotically between them, and she tilted her head back as desire surged through her.
She tugged at his shirt, feeling it already loose, and tossed it to the floor. She ran her hand down his bare stomach; the masculine pattern of his hair splayed downward. She ran her forefinger in a zigzagging line below his naval. She paused for a moment before continuing and curled her fingers around one of the belt loops on his trousers and pulled them slightly outwards.
He groaned into her lips, moving one hand to the back of her neck and the other one to grab her lower back, roughly shoving her to him until she could feel his erection hard against her beneath his pants.
He laughed icily, grabbing the back of her head and pulling her ear to his lips.
"Don't get ahead of yourself, doll."
Her eyes shot open, and she looked around hastily.
Her back was to the sink, and her chest and forehead were glistening with perspiration.
She was still in the bathroom.
She was still in his shirt.
She could still hear his footsteps above her head.
She was alone.
Biting her lip, she pushed herself up with shaking arms, and turned to go back to bed, and froze.
The basket of Sweeney Todd's shirts was gone.
This will most likely be a collection of one shots. However... if no one reviews, that probably won't happen.
I love you all.