Warnings for stalking, mentions of drug use and alcoholism, implied eventual gang rape and harassment.
Chapter 3:
Zeroing in on their prey
The next day followed, and Clarke hadn't left her apartment. That was to be expected by her mates. They had followed her and had learned she tended to do that after drinking a lot and taking the cocaine that she had.
She often stocked up her fridge and made sure she had water, so that she didn't have to go out or anything-gave her time to recover.
They had never been in her apartment, but they were going to have to assume that she had more than a few bottles of Advil or something in her apartment, in case she needed it, which she likely did.
She was on a higher floor and had the blinds down, so, unfortunately, her mates couldn't use binoculars or anything to peer up into her apartment-as if they needed any other example of what they were doing to prove that they were complete perverts.
So, they supposed they should be grateful that she had the blinds down.
But in any case, they planned what they would do out carefully. They knew they couldn't just outright rape her as soon as they had her. They needed to give her time to get used to her new home when they put her there. She likely would know what was coming, when they eventually forced her, but…..but they still wanted to give her some time to get used to her new surroundings.
The place they had purchased and refurbished to be her new place, was further and deeper in the city, not near traffic locations and closer to the water.
And they planned to grab her tomorrow after she left her work.
They waited all of the day after she had drunk herself and gotten high to the point of bliss, then waited some more.
Then came the next day.
When Clarke was to go to her job.
Whatever Clarke's bad habits? She was reliable in her job. She left her building at 4 in the afternoon, wearing a more than suggestive outfit, as she exited the building.
Her mates and yes, her stalkers as well, watched her leave, eyes trailing along her body.
As to be expected, her black pants were tight, she was wearing a low-cut, black shirt, and the skimpy light blue denim jacket she had on, she would likely dispose of in a suggestive way while up on the stage at the club.
They watched her leave and began to trail after her, driving slowly.
They imagined that she had taken precautions when she went out like this. If not because of the occasional unsavory characters that tended to her job, but because of the words on her arm, signifying her first encounter with her mates.
And they knew that the words on her arm meant that they had to have a…troubling first encounter with Clarke, because they also had disturbing words on their own arms. Words that she would say to them.
Along Steve's left arm, as he turned the wheel of the van, driving it in the direction of the club where Clarke worked, were the blue words, "You better not touch me, pretty boy, or I'll claw off that perfect face of yours."
Clarke reached her job, getting into the building, and checking in.
Because it was early in the day still, by the club's standards, Clarke knew it take about an hour and a half for things to get into motion. But she spent time with her friends and coworkers.
Before her job she always drank a lot of water and ate a lot of food, to get ready, so she knew she didn't need to worry about that.
About an hour and a half later, things got moving, more people came in, men and women alike, watching the dancers and propositioning the sex workers.
In the darkness of the club, where the flashing lights weren't shining on, the people who had driven the cars to the club, who had followed Clarke, had parked their cars far from the club and went into the club and dropped down at the many booths, watching where Clarke had gone.
They watched as Clarke at last, got up on the stage, beginning to move with extreme suggestiveness.
Her mates watched from the booths where they sat, eyes following all along Clarke's body, and watching Clarke twist her body against the pole on the stage. They didn't miss that some sort of patch between the legs of the pants Clarke was wearing, meant to outline what was between her legs.
Clarke's mates chuckled at the number of men and women alike, who were clambering around the stage, staring up at her and cheering, slobbering over her, most likely fantasizing about fingering her, putting their mouths on her and pounding into her in various ways.
Too bad for them. Clarke wouldn't accept them.
And she wasn't meant for them, anyway.
They knew that Clarke had sex with some people-just never customers. Fuckbuddies that she would have every now and then.
Clarke's mates were not jealous, exactly. They would never have expected her to be completely celibate until she met them.
Besides, they had only tracked her down recently. And how unrealistic was it for them to have expected her not to have ever had sex before they had come into her life?
There was no obligation that she had to not have sex with anyone, before she met them.
However, when Clarke's mates saw her begin to grind her clothed cunt against the pole, several of Clarke's mates, watched, almost drooling hungrily.
"I want to fucking go down on her," Tony said, unable to keep his eyes off of her.
"So do I," Pepper said, smirking, "And we will, just be patient, Tony."
As the hours carried on, and Clarke was on one of her breaks, jumping down from the stage, ignoring a young man in his twenties, at the oldest, telling Clarke very bluntly that he wanted to put his tongue in her asshole, which only earned a roll of her eyes as she walked to the back of the club, ignoring him as she went to her coworkers.
Elektra snorted, her eyes flashing dangerously to the young man that had just spoken to Clarke, "Oh, she's going to get several tongues in her asshole, but none of them are going to be your tongue."
Frank chuckled, "I get to put my tongue in her ass first."
"Fine," Carol snorted, "But Natasha and I get to put our mouths on her cunt and clit first."
There were some chuckles from the others, as they watched as Clarke hopped up on one of the barstools, speaking with two of her coworkers, Fox and Roma, watching Clarke laugh at some of the jokes Roma said.
There was a question of what would happen with her job when they abducted her. They had no problem with her work, if this was what made her happy, then they were happy for her. But she was going to be gone from her work for a while, since they wanted to rehabilitate her.
They'd have to put in special effort, to make sure she didn't lose said job.
Still, they planned and waited.
One moron from the crowd of customers ogling all of the dancers and sex workers, a young man who looked far too young to be in the club, but must have been old enough to enter the club, since he was here, and the bouncers and the rest of security in the club were always far too cautious to let anyone underage in here, came over to where Clarke, Fox and Roma were sitting.
The young man-boy really, who must have just turned eighteen or nineteen, with somewhat matted brown hair, dark, loose clothing and goggles on his head, came over and said, creeping up on Clarke, "Hey, baby, why don't you try grinding up against me next time?"
From where they sat, all three Pepper, Steve and Sam facepalmed. Because really?
They knew that younger men had a tendency of saying "cringey" things. But who let this dingbat into the club?
Yelena snorted, watching, "What a loser."
"That goes without saying," Sylvie said, sharing a smirk with her twin, Loki, then that same smirk with Natasha and Maria.
Sylvie and Loki's older brother, Thor and older sister, Hela, however, were seething in the direction of the young man with the goggles.
Clarke eyed the young man, then rolled her eyes, turning away from him and continuing to talk to Fox and Roma.
It wasn't anything she wasn't used to.
She heard lewd comments like that all the time. From men mostly and from some women.
"At least it's not one of the older men hitting on her right now," Danny commented.
Oddly, the older men tended to be more lewd than the many of the younger men.
"Yeah," Brunnhilde said, leaning back against her seat, snickering at Danny, then her eyes jumped to most of the older men in her group, "Because older men tend to be more perverted."
The older men in question in their number, Frank, Tony, Rhody, Bruce and Clint all self-consciously quieted and awkwardly looked away.
It wasn't like they all weren't going to be doing something essentially wrong and lecherous. But at least most of them weren't hypocritically complaining about other perverts in the club.
Pietro chuckled, watching. He probably had more in common with a lot of the younger and more excited men in this joint, than he did with the older and leering men here.
Still, he pitied that moron over there that had goggles on his head. He had no idea how out of his league he was.
Still, the dumbass kept on trying.
He said, realizing that Clarke was ignoring him, "Come on, baby, I know I don't look like much, but you should see some of the things I can do with my fingers."
"Is this guy serious?" Carol asked in disbelief, her eyebrows raising up.
"He sounds serious," Steve confessed, snorting, shaking his head at how embarrassing this younger guy was being.
Clarke, who clearly heard what this young man said, almost snorted, the drink in her hand, thankfully one not nearly as capable of making her inebriated as tequila was, almost spit into her drink over the young man's lewd bravado.
Finally, she responded to him but didn't face him.
She said, "Look, buddy, I don't know whose ass you popped up out of, but maybe you should go back to middle school and find your date there. Because clearly, you're too young to be here."
"I'm not," the young man protested, a silly smile still plastered on his face, that he likely thought was a dashing smile, "I'm almost nineteen. I can't drink anything, so, that's not an option. But I'm old enough to look at gorgeous ladies like you."
Clarke let loose an aggravated sigh, still not turning to the boy, which made several of her mates chuckle as they watched. Roma and Fox were snickering too.
Clarke said, moving the glass around in her hand, watching the liquid slosh about, "Look, kid, I don't care how old you are, people that lay it on as thick as you, don't have a chance. You want to get laid, go pay the proper money. If not, just shut up and watch the dancing. Or go home back to your mommy and put your diaper back on."
Almost all of Clarke's mates chuckled, grinning.
Clarke, regardless of her job or how casual in sex she was, didn't put up with bullshit.
The boy looked put out and glared at her and that was when Clarke's mates looked at each other and they nodded to each other.
While it was unlikely that such a skinny, wimpy looking guy would cause any real physical problems for Clarke, they figure they might as well interfere.
Frank was the one that was designated to go over and stop the boy from doing anything.
Frank got up and headed over to the bar where Clarke and the boy were.
As it turned out, Clarke's mates had good instincts, because the boy stepped closer, his face taking on a look of anger now as he reached for Clarke.
"You cunt," he growled, "Won't even give me a chance-"
The boy's right hand which had reached out for Clarke's right arm, was grabbed suddenly and violently, around the wrist, with a grip that actually made him think that his bones were going to be broken, as he gasped in pain.
This, at last, caused Clarke to turn around in her seat, startled at the sound of the boy's painful cries.
The boy's arm was being twisted back and Clarke looked at the man doing it, surprised.
It was a large man-not super tall or super broad-shouldered, but big and wide, nonetheless. A brawler sort of body type.
The man was white, had a recently cleanshaven face, a square jaw, had black combed back hair, and currently was looking at the boy with murderous intent.
Clarke's eyes widened when she saw the pain all over the boy's face, as his arm was nearly torn off of his body.
"Whoa, whoa, easy, hey! Stop it! Let him go!" Clarke cried, looking at the man, unable to help the fear in her chest. The pained sounds the boy was making and the frightened gasps of her friends behind her, weren't helping the situation.
The man looked at her, and she was startled by the intensity in which he looked at her.
He then smirked, an expression that gave Clarke the impression that there was nothing genuine about his smile, even if it had been a regular smile and not a smirk. But he nodded and released his hold on the boy.
The boy whimpered as he was released and grabbed his hand, shaking in pain and fear.
"Now, you brat," the man said to the boy, "Say that you're sorry to the lady. Then leave. And don't ever touch anyone without their permission ever again."
The boy nodded, cringing back from the man fearfully.
"What's your name, boy?" The man asked.
"J-Jasper, sir," the boy whimpered.
The man nodded and growled, "Say sorry to her," he nodded to Clarke.
Jasper gulped and nodded and turned to Clarke. "I'm sorry."
"'Sorry,' what, boy?" Frank growled again.
Jasper cringed again and said quickly to Clarke, "Sorry, Ms., I won't ever do it again."
Clarke nodded, though she seriously doubt the sincerity of Jasper's words, she said quickly, wanting him to get out of here before the man decided to crack his skull open, "Alright, Jasper, just remember not to harass a woman just because she isn't interested in you, alright? Would you harass a man that way?"
Jasper actually looked like he was considering that, then shook his head.
Clarke nodded and asked, "So, why do you think it's acceptable to harass women that way if it's not acceptable to harass men that way? Don't ever do that again. When someone's not interested in you, leave them be. I see enough of that bullshit here. I'll just spare you a few decades of acting like that so you won't get beaten up in the future or wind up in jail. Get out of here now."
Jasper nodded, throwing a fearful glance at the man, then turned around and ran away, like a frightened rodent.
Clarke sighed.
There were a lot of rough people in this joint, and yes, many of them harassed the dancers and sex workers. But if they got too handsy? Well, often they got the same treatment that Jasper did.
Clarke doubted her words or even the big man's manhandling of him did anything, but hopefully Jasper wouldn't harass anyone like that in the future. At least, not soon, anyway.
Clarke turned to the large man that helped her. "Thank you," she said, trying to ignore her unease of him, "But you didn't need to handle him so roughly. He's just a kid."
The man looked at her with that intense gaze again and said, "He's old enough to harass someone, he's old enough to suffer the consequences, isn't he?"
Clarke supposed for a moment that that made sense, till she thought about the sentence that she had just heard.
Her heart stopped then.
She had heard that sentence before.
Or rather, it was one of the sentences that she knew by heart.
A sentence on her arm.
One of her soulmate marks.
Clarke looked at the man, hear heart skipping a beat, as comprehension hit her.
The man still smirked at her, as he moved back from the bar, going across the hall, to a table, surrounded by a far off booth, where many other people were sitting.
It was too dark for Clarke to be able to make out the faces of the rest of the people there.
Clarke swallowed harshly, as the man, her unnamed mate, disappeared into the shadows.
She ignored Fox and Roma's concerned questions of if she was alright, clearly detecting that something was wrong.
But Clarke said nothing.
She didn't want her friends to get wrapped up in all this and potentially be put in danger.
She knew how to defend herself, and she wasn't going to put her friends in danger to protect her.
"Everything is fine," She lied to Fox and Roma, turning back to them, the words on her arm that she had just heard the large man say to her, suddenly feeling like they were burning her-branding her skin.
Frank made his way back to the table where the others were seated and sat down again next to Steve and Carol.
"Well, that was a close one," Jessica snorted, not even distracted by the various whisky bottles that were around this joint, that she easily could have gotten bought.
"Yeah, yeah," Frank grumbled back, "But not sure if we're off of the hook yet. I said words that she obviously recognized."
It wasn't lost on them that one of them had just defended Clarke from sexual harassment, when they all intended to do far, far worse than that to her. They were just stinking of hypocrisy tonight, weren't they?
Maria nodded. "We'll have to be careful. But we'll capture her," she said with certainty, "Tonight."
