#If you ask me about the nearest woman I will already have her number and you will NOT be getting it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

badkitty3000 · 21 days ago

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La classe d'arte: The Art Class

When Five accidentally stumbles into an art class with an attractive nude model, things take a turn from awkward embarrassment to hot and steamy when she asks him out on a date. Five may be inexperienced at times, but he knows how to deliver when it counts, and this is no exception. Unlocking a certain linguistic kink gives Five the ego boost he needs to rock her world like the man in charge he always is

This story is a combination of two requests that I received. One asking for a story where Five finds a nude model extremely attractive, and another where Five speaks Italian. This is written from Five's point of view.

Warnings: Masturbation, explicit sex

(My apologies to any Italian readers out there! I tried my best, but if something is incorrect, please let me know and I will fix it!)

The Art Class

I squint down at the torn piece of paper Klaus had shoved in my coat pocket earlier in the day. When I look up at the gray, brick building in front of me, I frown before turning back to the paper.

“15…” I mutter out loud to myself. “What the fuck, Klaus…there is no building 15…”

I peer up at my surroundings again. I’m on the City Community Center campus where there are about six identical looking, nondescript buildings, but none with the number 15 on them.

“Maybe he means room 15?” I wonder aloud again. I sigh and crumple the piece of paper into a ball and throw it into the nearest trash bin. “Fucking Klaus. I don’t know why I thought he could perform a simple task of getting an address correct.”

Glancing at my watch and seeing that the class I am supposed to be attending with my niece starts in three minutes, I decide to take a chance and I enter the building named “Fine Arts And Music” because that seems to make the most sense. Claire had asked Klaus and I to come to her painting class for some unknown reason, and since I’m a sucker for anything my nieces or nephew ask of me, I accepted the invitation without question. I figured I could go and paint a fucking butterfly or some shit and still make it to the bar where I told Derek I’d meet him for drinks.

Inside, it looks just the same as any other dull community center building, with a long hallway lined with closed classroom doors. I start my way down, reading the signs taped or stenciled on the frosted glass windows.

“Jazz Appreciation…no fucking thanks…Modern Dance…kill me…Shakespearean Theater…better, but not what I’m looking for…” I see a class across the hall with the words “Painting” scrawled across a lined piece of notebook paper and taped to the door. The top part of the paper has curled down, but I’m in a hurry so I figure this has to be it since I see no other classes pertaining to art and I enter the room, closing the door behind me.

Because I am already late, I don’t really take in my surroundings in too much detail, I just hastily look around the room for Claire or Klaus. Not seeing either of them, I turn to head out again. At that moment, however, a very stern looking, very old, gray-haired woman with a tight bun on top of her head and a pinched mouth cuts me off, locking the door before I can get my hand on the knob.

“No exiting the classroom once you are inside,” she tells me with a sour expression.

“Yeah, I’m not really in this class, I was looking for–”

“It is a very resolute rule that we have and it is in place for the safety and privacy of our models and students.”

I clear my throat, trying to tamp down my annoyance. “That’s great, but as I just said, I am not actually supposed to be in this class, I am trying to find—”

“And as I said, young man, there are rules for a reason. Once you are in the classroom, you may not leave until the class is over. So, why don’t you take a seat and we can start since you have already wasted one full minute of my time, as well as the class’s, with your rudeness.”

With my mouth open to bark out a retort, I happen to look out of the corner of my eye to see the entire classroom of people glaring at me. When I turn my attention back to the angry woman, she is blocking the door with her bony body as she points a skeletal finger in the direction of an empty seat behind me.

“Sit,” she orders.

For what has to be the millionth time since my father’s bullshit reset of the universe, I grit my teeth together and flex my fists at my side, trying my damndest to regain even a flicker of my past powers. But with no handy blinking ability, it appears I am stuck. I briefly consider punching Professor McGonnegal here in her wrinkled old face, but decide against it. If I get thrown in jail for assaulting a senior citizen, I won’t be able to blink out of there, either. At least here, I can be out in half an hour

“Fine,” I hiss before turning and walking to the empty seat I was assigned to. I notice the chairs and desks in front of them are set up in a large circle with a small platform in the middle. I take my overcoat off and hang it on the back of the chair before rolling up my sleeves to my elbows and taking a seat. On the desk in front of me, just the same as everyone else’s, is a large spiral sketchbook and a small assortment of drawing pencils. I don’t bother opening the book or picking up a pencil. I plan on getting in a quick nap and maybe plot out Klaus’s demise in my head.

With my arms folded across my chest and one leg crossed over the other, I lean back in my chair while The Crypt Keeper begins her lesson.

“Welcome to Advanced Figurative Painting. As I am sure most of you know, since you have taken our beginning and intermediate classes before, this class is a full sixty minutes and we will be working the entire time.”

“An hour?” I blurt out incredulously, not even registering what the name of the class is called.

The woman narrows her eyes in my direction and a few of the others turn their heads, too, but everyone goes back to ignoring me and she continues on.

“During our full hour, we will practice drawing the human form using pencils and charcoals. Once the basic form is finished, we will tackle the painting portion next week. If you have any questions or need assistance, please raise your hand and I will come to you.”

“Fucking fantastic,” I murmur sarcastically right before Dragon Lady steps to the back of the room. A side door, different from the main one I entered through, opens.

In walks quite possibly the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen. She is probably around my same physical age of twenty one, with thick dark hair that is braided and draped over her shoulder, and deep brown eyes framed in long black lashes. She is wearing a silk wrap that covers her entire body and she is not wearing any makeup that I can tell. Her natural beauty is so apparent, though, that I can’t imagine her looking any better than she already does. I sit up a little taller in my chair as she walks into the circle of desks and stands on the platform. I notice she is barefoot and she does not address the class at all.

Before I can even understand what is happening, she unties her wrap and removes it entirely, setting it neatly on a chair behind her. She is completely nude underneath and I suck in an audible gasp that is too late to take back before I get a few side-eyes in my direction. No one else seems to be reacting to this amazingly hot and naked woman standing in our midst, and she does not appear to be fazed in the slightest.

I watch in awe as everyone around me opens their sketchbooks without a word and starts drawing. I don’t do either of those things because I can’t stop staring with my mouth hanging open like a goddamn fish at this gorgeous sight before me.

I’m not going to lie. I’m not what you would call “experienced” in the ways of women, but I have perused my fair share of dirty magazines and other forms of naked lady entertainment, so I am no stranger to the feminine body. I have to say, though, this one is in the top ten. She is on the taller side and statuesque, with large round breasts that are only slightly paler than the rest of her body. Her olive skin looks silky smooth as my eyes slowly make their way down, taking in the dark pink areolas and pert nipples before traveling over her soft stomach to the prominent curves of her hips. I am drawn further south to the faint, narrow strip of downy hair that is situated between her supple thighs. When her eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second, my face immediately starts burning.

As I am trying to comprehend what the hell is going on and how I got myself into this predicament in the first place, I nearly jump out of my skin when the walking corpse that is the art teacher raps a sharp fingernail on my closed sketchbook.

“All students must be actively drawing. This is not a peep show, young man!”

My face burns even hotter as a few other “artists” turn my way, as well as the beautiful woman I can’t stop staring at. Because she is the model, she is holding a pose with her head turned just slightly away from me, but I see her eyes flit in my direction and I’m not sure but I think I see the tiniest smile form at the corner of her luscious looking mouth.

“Jesus, alright!” I exclaim loudly as I angrily grab a pencil and flip open the book. “Get off my back, lady!”

I may have imagined the small smile on the model, but I definitely didn’t imagine the quiet giggle I heard from her, aimed in my direction. The old bag standing next to me purses her wrinkly lips together but she walks away without another word. I am left holding a charcoal pencil loosely in my left hand, hovering it over the sketchbook as I continue blinking up at the flawless, nude body in front of me.

The more I am transfixed by this beauty, the more my body is starting to react. Not only is my face flushed and I can’t stop swallowing the saliva pooling in my mouth, I begin to feel the unfortunate, but all too familiar, beginnings of a boner coming on.

No. Please, no. No no no no no no no….fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

Having a body that is much younger than your mind has its perks, but this is not one of them. However, I can hardly blame overactive hormones on this. If I were back in my fourteen or fifteen year-old body, then sure; that’s a given. But twenty one? That’s just pathetic. Yeah, I may be young and my dick is quick to react, but this is a bit overboard. It’s just more evidence of the sad fact that I am under-experienced, over-sexed, and pitifully touch-starved.

Like a fucking dweeb, I hurriedly uncross my legs and scoot my chair in closer to the desk, trying to play it off like I am suddenly extremely interested in the seriousness of this class. I turn my focus to the open sketchbook in front of me, scrunching my brow in apparent concentration. I try desperately to tune out the woman standing in front of me, but my dick seems to have other ideas. I can smell the subtle waft of her perfume as I hear her shuffle into a new position on the platform.

When I glance up again, she has turned so that her amazingly, ridiculously perfect ass is now directly in my line of sight. I want to whine out loud like some sort of wounded, dying animal because that’s what I feel like right now.

Why? Have I not suffered enough in my life? Is the universe really this cruel?

If I were to stand up, I would look like the biggest fucking creep in the world. Why don’t I just get a trenchcoat and hang out at the bus stop to ogle every woman that walks by? I clench my eyes shut for just a moment to try, unsuccessfully, to calm the offending monster in my tailored suit pants. Forced to face the fact that I am stuck with this problem, at least for the foreseeable future, I pass a hand over my face and check to see that no one is looking at me. With the coast clear, I reach back to grab my coat off the back of the chair and subtly as possible, drape it over my lap.

For the next fifty five minutes I am in hell. I’ve never been so uncomfortable in my life, and that’s saying a lot. I try not to look, but she’s right fucking there, and it’s a constant torture that I can’t block out. I would give anything to have my powers back right now so I could blink out of here and go jerk off somewhere in peace. But no…I’m stuck here with my dick so hard I’m afraid if I move at all the friction from my tight pants is going to set me off and then I’ll be in even bigger trouble. Because as much as I don’t need anyone here noticing the giant boner I’m sporting, I really don’t need to be the guy that comes in his pants.

I pretend I’m drawing her, hunched over my sketchbook like I’m really into this art stuff, mainly so I don’t attract anymore attention to the angry teacher. While I do my best to make it look like I’m working, I can’t resist frequent glances at the model. She has turned multiple times so that the entire class can see every angle, and right now she is facing me straight on. I try to focus on her face and not her tits or the curves of her thighs. If I look directly at her face maybe it will stop me from imagining my hands gripping her hips and burying my face in between her legs. It doesn’t and I shift very carefully in my seat.

She is watching me, I’m almost positive. Everytime I look up, my eyes meet her clear hazel ones, and I’m starting to think it’s not an accident on her part. I can’t hold her gaze for long before I’m looking back down in apparent concern over my drawing of her. But I can still feel her eyes on me and I can’t decide if I like it or not.

Finally, the class starts coming to a close. The walking corpse starts telling everyone to put their drawing materials down and the model begins to slip her robe on again. I am dying to get out of here, but I still have the unfortunate issue of a full-mast erection going on, so I continue to sit and think about how fucked my life is. People start to file out and I see the model talk briefly to the teacher. While she is talking, though, she steals another glance at me. And there is definitely a smile this time. I’m not sure what to do with that, but I like it. I smile back, pretending I am not at all a disgusting, perverted old man with a giant woody in his pants just from looking at a naked lady.

I decide to make a break for it. I leave my sketchbook with my crude drawing on my desk, put my overcoat on, close it as tightly as I can around myself with my hands in the pockets, and bolt for the door. I look at my watch on the way out of the building. I’m supposed to meet Derek in five minutes, but he’s going to have to wait because I can’t exactly show up there in the state I’m in and I have given up hope that this is going to resolve itself naturally.

Walking at a very brisk pace with my coat still pulled closed over my junk, I head towards my apartment two blocks away. On the way there I can’t stop thinking about that woman. I don’t even know why I am so obsessed with her, but I am. I’ve been to strip clubs and I’ve watched my fair share of porn, so it’s not like she’s the first naked female body I’ve ever seen. But something about the way she held herself so confidently in a room full of strangers while completely nude has captivated me.

When I arrive at home, I am barely through the door before I’m throwing my coat onto the floor and clawing at my fly to get it open. I have never been so hard in my life and all I can think about is getting my hand on my dick. I head straight for my miniscule bathroom, shove my pants down, and brace myself with one hand on the wall behind the toilet. It’s quite possibly the most disgusting place I could be doing this, but I don’t care. Time is of the essence and I need the clean up to be quick.

I whip my cock out of my briefs and start going at it hard. My eyes are tightly closed as I picture everything I am dying to do to that woman. I want to touch every part of her; run my tongue over her tits and stomach, and lick up into her pussy. I want to bend her over and shove my dick deep inside of her and fuck her until she is seeing stars. I want to hear her calling out my name when I make her come and I want to feel her warm body tremble in my arms.

These thoughts are getting more and more graphic as I continue to jerk off as fast as I can, dragging my hand over my dick as I breathe hard and make involuntary grunting noises with the effort. In my mind I’ve got her pinned beneath me, legs spread wide as I pound relentlessly into her and bury my face in her neck while she moans loudly.

I feel myself start to climax and I grit my teeth together, exploding with thick ropes of cum that I forget to try and aim into the open toilet, so some of it ends up on my hand, and some ends up on the wall. As I slow my pace and try to catch my breath, I smile with the relief of finally getting that out of my system. Of course I still feel like a massive pervert and I know I must look like a total asshole with my pants around my ankles and my cum dripping down the bathroom wall.

After I shove my shrinking dick back into my underwear and pull my pants up again, I grab a washcloth to clean up the offending mess I’ve made. When I’m at the sink washing my hands, it’s nearly impossible to look at myself in the mirror, I’m so ashamed. But I take a quick glance, fix my hair as best I can, and turn to leave.

When I walk into the bar, it’s dim but not crowded since it’s a Thursday. I spot Derek sitting on a stool at the bar with a half-finished drink in his hand. I already know what it is because he only orders the same drink every single time, and that’s a vodka and soda with a twist of lime. But not too much of a twist, or else he’ll send it back. He’s kind of a high maintenance dick like that.

“Good evening, Agent Five, glad you could make it,” he says with that irritating smirk on his face.

“Fuck off,” I tell him as I sit on the stool next to him. “And knock it off with the Agent shit, alright? It stopped being funny about two months ago.”

“Oh… little sensitive are we?”

“No, I’m not sensitive. I’m just not an agent anymore, so don’t call me one.”

Derek nods before taking a sip of his drink. “You know, you might consider apologizing. You never know; maybe you can get your position back.”

I snort out a laugh, gesturing to the bartender so I can order my own drink. “I’m not sure an apology is going to do the trick. They don’t exactly make a greeting card for punching your superior in the face after calling him a brainless fuck stick. And I’m not allowed on CIA property anymore, remember?” The bartender approaches us. “Can I get a single malt, neat? Thanks.”

“I agree that’s a tough one, but you know you were the best agent they had. They still talk about you.”

I shake my head. “Even if they did take me back, I wouldn’t even want the job anymore. I’m not sure why I even took it in the first place; I hated every minute of it. I’ve been answering to people my whole life…I just can’t do it anymore.”

“Hence the punch to the boss’s face.”

My drink comes and I hold it up in a toasting gesture. “Correct.” I take a sip of the scotch. It burns and tastes delicious on the way down.

Derek laughs and shakes his head at me. It’s true I lost my temper and clocked my asshole boss after about six months of working at the CIA. I had trained and applied for the position out of sheer boredom and desperation for some sort of stimulation after being stranded in this timeline with no powers. That, and I wanted the personal challenge of becoming the youngest agent (they thought) that had ever been hired. I should have known, though, that I could never work there. The minute I had to take orders from some dickbag that was technically ten years younger than me, I was done. I lasted a few more months, but I just couldn’t do it. The minute I was reminded to call him “sir”, I snapped.

I did meet Derek while I was there, though. He’s a sarcastic, arrogant, irritating little shit and I liked him immediately. We get along pretty well and it’s nice to have a friend I can talk candidly with. I have my family, but I don’t like to talk too much about my personal life with them, and they all have their own issues going on anyway.

“So, why were you late, out of curiosity? It’s not like you to not be punctual.”

I sigh heavily and take another drink. “I had something I needed to take care of.”

Derek raises his eyebrows in curiosity. “Like a dead body?”

“I wish. That would have been simpler. No, something a little more intimate.”

“I’m not following you.”

I have no idea why I feel the need to tell him about the public boner incident, but I do. “You ever get a raging hard-on in public?”

Derek almost chokes on his lime slice. “What? You mean like now or when I was thirteen?”

“Now.”

“Uh…no, can’t say that I have. Well, I guess there was that one time at that club when some guy was dry humping me from behind. But that didn’t last long because we hooked up in the bathroom five minutes later.”

Oh, and Derek is a giant slut. “Well, unfortunately for me, I didn’t get that luxury today. I accidentally stumbled into a nude art class earlier and holy shit, you should have seen this woman model. It was immediate boner city and I had to sit there for an entire hour with my dick trying to rip through my pants.”

He laughs. “How the hell do you accidentally wind up in a nude art class?”

“It’s a long story that involves me wanting to murder Klaus.”

“Ah.”

“Anyway, the reason I’m late is because once I got out of there…”

“You had to race home to take care of Captain Woody?”

I nod with my glass halfway to my mouth. “Precisely.”

“I hope you washed your hands.”

I cock one eyebrow at him. “I did, but there might be a few splatters on my pants if you’re that hard up for another guy’s jizz.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, you’re not my type.”

“I have a dick…I’m your type,” I retort dryly.

“So, are you going back to the class to find this woman?” he asks, ignoring my previous comment.

“No way. She probably saw me being a fucking weirdo and thinks I’m a pervert. I can’t show my face back there, again.”

“Well, you should be trying to get some action that isn’t in the form of your hand, you know. You deserve to have a relationship with someone. And you’re much too hot to be single.”

“I thought I wasn’t your type.”

“Fuck off, I’m serious. You need to get out there and find someone. Even if it’s just someone willing to play with your dick for an hour or so.”

I snort out a laugh. “I am out there! It’s just…” I take a drink of my scotch. “It’s complicated.”

“Look, Five, as much as I know you are an absolute bastard, I also know you are a romantic at heart. And you deserve to find someone special. Someone that can stand to put up with your stubborn ass and see you for who you really are.”

“Shit, Derek, if you keep talking like that I’m going to start catching feelings for you.” He rolls his eyes at me. “No, I appreciate what you’re saying, thank you. And maybe one day I’ll meet someone, but I don’t know. I might be destined to walk the world alone.”

“You’re not alone, Five.”

“Are you hitting on me, Agent? Because if so…I’m flattered but I’m not quite that desperate yet.”

“God, you are a massive, massive asshole, you know that?”

I nod. “Yeah, I know.” I gesture to the bartender again. “Another round for my friend, here. On me.”

*********************************************************************

( Please enjoy Five's sketch (courtesy of @kaybreezy3000)

It’s a week later and I find the actual location of Claire’s art class. It turns out there is a “Youth Arts” building directly next to the one I so unfortunately entered before. Which would have been a nice detail to have, Klaus, so thanks for that. I sit next to my niece and paint what I think is a pretty good landscape piece on my canvas and listen as she chats about school and her life. I love these little moments with her, because it reminds me of all the things I missed out on over the years, but have a chance to get back now. She also doesn’t judge me like her mother and my other siblings do, which is a nice break from the usual family get-togethers. I always feel like I’m under a big fucking spotlight with them. Like they are just eyeing me up, waiting for the right opportunity to ask “Are you ok?” “Do you need anything?” “So…are you seeing anyone?”

But Claire is bright and smart, and actually pretty funny. She doesn’t see me for who I really am, which is an old man who has no idea how to navigate life. She only sees me as her mildly abrasive uncle that will listen quietly as she talks, laughs at her jokes, and buys her overly-expensive gifts on her birthday. She and Klaus are definitely closer given the circumstances, but we have our own thing, too. She’s a good kid and it’s about damn time someone in this family turned out half-way decent.

On the way out of the classroom, I am busy looking at Claire’s canvas that she is holding up for me while walking, and I don’t see the woman I almost run over in the process. In the collision, I drop my own canvas, and I bend over to pick it up. When I right myself again, I find I am staring into a beautiful pair of hazel eyes.

It’s her. The nude model from the art class and I want to die. I’m very sure my face is bright red as she looks at me and smiles.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, as though she were the dumbass that wasn’t looking where they were going and not the other way around. Then she pauses and tilts her head to the side. “Do I know you? You look familiar.”

She is just as beautiful as when I saw her before, even with her clothes on. She is wearing a fitted, green sweater and tight jeans. Her hair that was braided before is now loose and wavy, hanging down her back in a satiny sheet. It looks like she has applied a small amount of eye makeup and some light lipstick. She is absolutely gorgeous and my mouth is suddenly as dry as the desert.

I shake my head. “I don’t think so,” I croak out.

She continues trying to place where she knows me from. “No, I swear I’ve seen you before.” Yet again, I am cursing my lack of ability to disappear into thin air when she gasps with recognition. “I know! You were at the figurative painting class the other day!”

I try to lick my parched lips but my tongue is just as dry. “Uh…oh…yeah, I guess I was.”

She laughs. “I know, it’s awkward, right?” She seems like she wants to elaborate on the fact that I have seen her completely naked, but she notices Claire standing next to me and is more vague. “But don’t worry, I’m not bothered by it.”

I nod slowly like a fucking idiot because I’ve suddenly forgotten how to form words. “Ok.”

“Yeah,” she says, looking at me thoughtfully. “You were the one getting in trouble, right?”

More nodding. “Yeah.” I clear my throat in an attempt to converse with her. “I don’t think that lady likes me.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be too worried about it. She doesn’t like anyone, the old bag.”

I raise my eyebrows in surprise and then I laugh. “Good to know it’s not just me, then.”

The woman smiles again, this time just a little smirk. “I certainly hope you enjoyed the class, despite all of that. Especially the subject matter?”

I almost drop my canvas on the floor again. Is this woman really flirting with me? I try to pull myself together so that I might come across as marginally cool. “I did. Immensely,” I tell her with my own half-smile as I hold out my hand. “Five Hargreeves. Nice to meet you.”

She clasps my hand in hers and of course it’s soft and warm, just like I imagined when I was violently beating off to her the other day. “Nice to meet you, Five. I’m Isabella.”

Fuck, even her name is sexy.

As I am contemplating what panty-dropping line I’m going to wow her with next, Claire shuffles on her feet next to me and I suddenly remember she is there, too.

“Oh, sorry. Isabella, this is Claire, my niece.”

She shakes Claire’s hand as well. Then she tilts her head to the side in thought. “Hargreeves…”

“No relation!” Claire and I both blurt out at the same time in a knee-jerk response to anything related to Reginald.

“Oh, ok…” Isabella responds, the wrinkles between her eyes forming with adorable confusion.

We stand there for another few seconds, but it feels like an eternity. I can’t stop picturing what I know she looks like naked and then in turn, picturing all of the things I wish I were doing to her at that very moment. I have to get out of there before this takes a very bad turn.

“It was nice meeting you,” I say, raking a hand through my hair. “I have to take her home, now.”

Claire and I turn to leave, but then I hear her speak up. “Wait, Five?”

I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to keep hearing my name from someone else this much before, and I turn around to face her.

“Would you like to have drinks sometime?”

I think I might just fall on the floor in a boneless heap, but I try very hard not to look like a total fool. I give her a crooked smile and nod. “I’d like that, yes.”

“Great!” She reaches into her purse that is flung over her shoulder and rummages around until she finds a pen and paper. She scribbles something on it and hands it over. “Here’s my number. Call me, ok?” Then she smiles at Claire and I again before turning around and walking down the hall.

When I don’t stop staring for a more-than-normal amount of time, Claire nudges me in the arm. “Uncle Five? Are we going?”

“What?”I say, startled out of my daydream. “Oh, yeah, sure.” I look down at the piece of paper I had been handed. It’s her phone number and she has written “Isabella” with a little heart next to it. The giant grin on my face is ridiculous.

Claire giggles. “I think she likes you.”

“Do you?” I ask, genuinely curious. I figure kids these days have a better pulse on social cues than I ever had or ever will.

My niece rolls her eyes. “Obviously. She was totally flirting with you.”

“Was she?” I ask again, still not quite believing all of this to be true.

She breathes out a very dramatic huff and there’s another big eye roll. “Wow, Uncle Five, you are not good at this. Yesss…she’s totally into you.”

“Oh,” I state simply, glancing at the phone number again. “Nice.”

Claire laughs again and I follow her out, feeling like I’m floating on air right now, but also trying not to freak out because I have no fucking clue what I am doing.

******************************************************************

After one slightly awkward but pleasant phone conversation, Isabella (or Bella as she told me to call her) and I have a date set for drinks and dinner. When the call is over, I immediately dial up Derek in a panic.

“WHAT DID I JUST DO?!” I yell into the phone as soon as he picks up.

When I calm down enough to explain what I’m talking about, he walks me through the general steps of dating a living, breathing woman. Most of them I think I can handle. Be cordial, listen, don’t be a creep, etc. I’m about to hang up when he adds one more piece of advice.

“Better jerk it beforehand.”

“Excuse me?”

“In case things go well. You don’t want to be all pent up and then blow your load the second she touches your dick.”

“I highly doubt it’s going to go that far on the first date.”

I can practically hear the shrug and shit-eating grin over the phone. “It’s your funeral. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

While I’m showering before my date, I am nervous but I keep telling myself that it’s not a big deal. It’s probably not going to lead to anything, but it will at least be good practice should anything more serious present itself in the future. Then I start thinking about if things do go well, and…shit, here I am again with the same problem quite literally on my hands. I take Derek’s advice and rub one out while I’m in there, hoping that will be enough to stave off any unforeseen problems that may pop up later.

I shave and add a little cologne before putting on my best three-piece suit. It’s a little more tailored than the ones I used to wear during my stint at the CIA. A good tailor is essential to the fit and mine does not miss. According to Klaus, I am “a snack” whenever I wear this particular one, and I’ve heard that’s a good thing. I finish knotting my silk tie in the mirror and slip on my polished dress shoes before shrugging on my suit coat. Maybe it’s a bit overboard, but I feel comfortable when I’m wearing a suit. I can think clearer. I am more confident. And I need all the confidence I can get.

When I arrive at the restaurant where we agreed to meet, I walk in the place and look around. I spot Bella over by the bar and I am so awestruck that I stand there for a second to take her in. She isn’t looking at me, but rather chatting with the bartender about something, so I take the opportunity to watch her. She is dressed in a short, tight black dress that shows off all of her amazing curves. The tall boots she is wearing come all the way up to her knees. Her silky black hair is pinned up on one side and is hanging down in waves on the other. She is breathtakingly beautiful.

I am jolted back to life when someone walks by me, jostling me with their elbow, and I start to make my way towards her. When she sees me, I’m not sure but I think she might be blushing.

“Hi,” she says with a big smile, looking me up and down.

“Hello. Have you been here long?”

“No, not at all. Just in time to order a drink for myself. I wasn’t sure what you liked, sorry.”

I take a seat next to her, trying to hide my nervousness. “That’s ok.You look amazing, by the way.”

She smiles and looks down, embarrassed. “Thank you. So do you. You smell amazing, too.”

I am getting a little boost to my ego over that, and I find I’m sitting up a little straighter. “What are you drinking?”

“Red wine.”

I nod and take a look at the small wine menu on the bartop. Normally I would order whatever whiskey they have but I like a good red wine, too. I flag the bartender over. “I’ll have a glass of the Vietti Borolo Castiglione please.”

I notice the bartender, who is male and had looked annoyed when I’d come to sit down, glance over at Bella longingly before walking away to get my drink. This may be our first date, but I feel that little spark of territorialism ignite inside me.

“Wow,” she says. “The way you pronounced the name of that wine…do you speak Italian?”

“I do, actually. That and about seven other languages.” I cringe internally, thinking I probably sound like an arrogant asshole, so I try and breeze past that. “What about you? Isabella sounds Italian.”

She nods. “I’m named after my grandmother, but I never learned the language myself. You must be pretty smart if you know that many languages.”

“Depends on the day,” I say with a smirk and she laughs. Her laugh is light and airy and I immediately melt at the sound of it.

“And what about you? Are you Italian as well?”

My wine comes and I give the bartender a little nod and a smile which he does not return. “Irish, actually.”

“Really? That’s surprising. Wouldn’t have guessed that.”

“Me either,” I say earnestly, and I wasn’t trying to be funny but she laughs anyway.

“Well, either way. The Italian thing is sexy, that’s for sure.”

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “Really?”

She nods again and wets her bottom lip with the tip of her tongue before taking a drink of her wine. “Oh yeah. A real turn on.”

I don’t know why, but when I catch the eye of the jealous bartender standing over at the side with his arms crossed over his chest, I feel the return to my old self come rushing back. Confident. Clear-headed. Focused.

“Well,” I say, turning my body so that my leg brushes against hers. I take a drink of my own glass, but I don’t let my eyes leave hers. “That is very good to know. Grazie.”

She giggles and I definitely see a faint blush on her cheeks, which just fuels my ego even more.

“So, Bella, what made you get into your line of work?”

“The nude modeling?”

I nod.

“Oh, that’s just my side gig. I’m actually a high school math teacher.”

“Shit!” I say, much too loudly before I quiet my voice again. “I mean, those poor boys in your class.”

She laughs, big and loud this time, tipping her head back and flashing her straight, white teeth. “Yeah, they don’t exactly know what I do on the side. The parents might have an issue with that. I try to keep the nude modeling on the down-low.”

“Something tells me the dads of your kids wouldn’t mind so much.”

She taps me on the knee and my thigh flexes in response. “You’re funny. Seriously, they all think I’m a big bore.”

“Yeah, I highly doubt that. I bet they all have crushes on you.”

“Why? Did you have a crush on one of your teachers in high school?”

She says this in a very flirty way and yet I still can’t help shuddering a bit. “Ah…no. I went to a very private school, so there weren’t a lot of hot teachers.” I smile. “Unfortunately.”

“Hmm…I see. Well, to answer your question, I only do the nude modeling for the money. I’m very free with my body, so it doesn’t bother me and it’s easy cash.”

I want to say something gross and creepy, but I refrain. “That’s great,” I say instead.

“And what do you do, Five?”

“I’m an ex-CIA agent, but right now I’m just playing the stock market and acting as babysitter to my six siblings.”

“Six? Wow. Are they young?”

I shake my head, taking another drink. “No, older than me, actually.”

She pauses and then starts laughing again, leaning forward to put a hand on my leg. “Sexy and funny. I like that.”

“Sexy, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” Bella answers breathily, squeezing my knee and making it jerk before pulling her hand back. The smile she is giving me is playful and exciting and thank god the wine has loosened me up a little bit so I’m not having to hide another tent in my pants.

I make sure my leg brushes against hers again, this time very obviously and I let it linger there. With my own flirtatious smile, I answer, “Ci prendiamo un tavolo?”

I hear her suck in a sharp breath and she bites at her bottom lip a little. “What does that mean?”

I raise one eyebrow, standing up and holding out my hand. “Shall we get a table?”

After a moment of hesitation, Bella nods and lets out a soft laugh, taking my hand, and letting me help her off the bar stool. On our way over to the main dining area, I steal a glance back at the jealous bartender who is now looking rather sad. Maybe you should have brushed up on your Italian, asswipe.

Over dinner, the conversation comes easily, especially as we go through a couple more drinks. She is definitely flirty, and not shy about it, either. She is constantly reaching across the table to touch my hand or let her foot graze across my calf under the table. I try to play it cool; pretending that she doesn’t have me dying to throw her down on this table right here in the middle of the restaurant.

If her weapon is her touch, mine is my tongue. And by that, I mean I try to sprinkle in a little Italian for her here and there. Even the smallest phrases are getting a rise out of her, and it’s just fueling my appetite. I’ve gone from nervous, stammering weirdo to a cocky, self-assured man that knows what he wants. When I ask for the check,” Posso avere il conto, per favore?”, she is practically drooling.

We leave, huddling under the awning because it’s started raining, Bella is smiling at me and I’m just standing there with my hands in my pockets, not knowing how to end this. I should ask her out for a second date. Or give her a kiss goodnight, maybe. But I’m not quite sure and I don’t want to do the wrong thing, but she quickly makes my decision for me. Leaning in, grabbing my suit coat by the lapels, and whispering in my ear, she says, “Come home with me?”

My first instinct is to freeze up in terror because I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but then I remember she’s the one coming on to me. She’s the one that is rubbing her leg on the inside of mine and breathing fast next to my ear. I’ve got her in the palm of my hand and fuck if that doesn’t feel so damn good.

I bring a hand up to the side of her face and caress her cheek while gazing into her eyes. “Sì, tesoro.” When I can see she doesn't understand that, I get closer so that my lips are just inches from hers. “Yes, darling.”

We decide to take a cab to her place since we’ve had a few drinks, she slinks closer to me in the backseat to throw her leg over mine. Her dress rides up her thigh and I place my hand on her knee, rubbing it lightly with my thumb. She turns to me, lacing her fingers into my hair at the back of my head. When I lean in for a kiss, I push away the insecurities that are threatening to burst forth in my mind. I have no idea what I’m doing but I’m really good at faking it until I make it.

Her lips are soft and warm when they meet mine. I give a few more hesitant kisses until I can’t stand it anymore and I pull her closer with a hand on the back of her neck, pushing my tongue into her mouth until I hear her whimper softly into me.

“Say something hot again,” she whispers against my lips before tightening her leg on mine.

“Like what?” I ask with a smile, pretending I have no idea what she’s talking about.

“Anything,” she whines, crashing her mouth onto mine again.

“Qualunque cosa tu desideri, Bella, te la darò,” I respond while brushing my lips gently down her neck.

“Oh shit,” she moans quietly and I see the driver give us a look through the rearview mirror. “What was that?”

“Whatever you wish, Bella, I will give it to you.”

With another sharp inhale of breath, she pulls back to look me in the eyes; her lust so apparent I can see it in her blown-out pupils. “I want to fuck you, Five.”

My eyes close for a moment while I try to get a grip on reality. This amazingly gorgeous woman, that is sweet and intelligent, and asked me back to her place, just told me she wants to fuck me. I might be in trouble here, because I maybe came on a little too strong and now I’m going to have to perform at a level I’m not sure I can uphold. But I’ve also never backed down from a challenge.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I am definitely fucking you,” I groan out, before diving back in for another hot and urgent kiss, not caring that the driver just cleared his throat to remind us of his presence.

When we get to her place, she is pulling me by my tie through the door as I work on ditching my jacket, letting it fall off my arms onto the floor. I follow her, leaning forward as she drags me through the small living room of her apartment and into the bedroom. As she stops to pull her boots off, I work on the knot of my tie, yanking it over my head before kicking my shoes off and tackling her onto the bed, laying myself over her.

For the second time now, she is making me as hard as a rock, only this time I don’t care if she knows it. The tight crotch of my suit pants drags over her thigh; my erection obvious and impressive as I eagerly suck and bite at her lips and jaw. She is breathing loudly as she clutches at my hips, her fingers clawing at my belt loops to pull me closer.

“Five,” she gasps before wrapping a leg around my waist.

The short skirt of her dress is riding up all the way to her hips, exposing the thin string of her panties. My hand automatically slides up her thigh, pushes her dress up all the way to her waist, and makes its way around to her spectacular ass. She must be wearing a thong, because it’s completely bare and even though I’m busy kissing and humping her leg at the moment, the memory of that perfect ass is burned into my brain and I moan out loud.

I murmur softly between ragged breaths. “Bella…damn it.”

“What’s wrong?”

I shake my head, squeezing her ass hard and then giving it a loud slap that has her hips jolting upward. She makes a short squeaking noise that I cut off with my hungry mouth.

When I pull away again, I look down on her with a vicious smile. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about your beautiful body and all of the things I want to do to you.”

Her already full lips are swollen from all of our passionate kissing, and she matches my smile with her own. “Oh, I think I know. You’re not as good at hiding things as you think you are. Even with a coat over your lap.”

I blink down at her and then my eyebrows raise off my head when I realize what she’s talking about. “Wha–?”

She lets out a giggle and then presses her body up, making sure to grind her thigh against my cock until I have to close my eyes. “From the feel of it, you should be the one posing naked for the class.”

I let out a breathy laugh at that, relieved that she’s not making fun of my little faux pas from the other day. “I don’t think our teacher friend would agree.”

“Hmm..I bet she would.” Bella reaches down between us and cups the hard bulge between my legs, making me hiss through my teeth. “I think anyone would be impressed by this work of art. Even the old bag.”

“How about we don’t talk about her while your hand is on my dick?”

“Good idea,” Bella agrees with another pass of her palm over my groin and I swear this woman is going to be the death of me. She pulls me down to her again, covering my lips with her own. Her fingers are raking through my hair before she moves both hands down to my belt buckle. It suddenly hits me like a brick to the head that this is actually, really happening. I am going to fuck this dream girl of mine. “Five,” she whines as she tugs at my belt and tries to undo my fly.

I can’t help but laugh a little at her desperation, only because I am the one that should be whining pathetically right now, not her. I see her adorable little pout from being made fun of, and damn if that doesn’t make me want to just flip her over and do some major damage to her. I don’t do that, but her obvious need for me right now is fueling my naturally egotistical nature.

I sit up on my knees, pushing her hands away while I give her a lop-sided smirk. She’s not sure what to think, I can tell, so she just lies there looking so cute and fuckable while staring up at me with her big eyes and her dark hair fanning around her. I unbutton my vest, taking my time while she watches me. Next I pull my shirt out from my pants and undo that, too, shrugging it off my shoulders and down my arms until I throw it off somewhere to the side. I make sure her eyes are on me as I reach down to finish the job she started; slowly unzipping my fly and opening my pants.

When she bites at her lower lip and her hips jerk up, I pull my cock out and give it a long stroke. “Is this what you want, Bella?”

“Oh fuuck…” she whimpers, her tongue swiping over her lips. “Yes.”

I nod, like I’m not surprised, but really I’m dying inside and all I can think about is ramming my dick deep inside of her. “Dress off,” I tell her.

This little act of confidence seems to be working because she’s scrambling to pull her clothes over her head. Once the dress is off, she props herself up with her elbows and looks up at me. The black, see-through lace bra pushes her impressive rack up and together, while the miniscule matching panties she has on barely covers her crotch.

“Oh shit, honey,” I breathe out, stroking myself a couple more times because I can’t help it. “You are gorgeous.”

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” she says with a sly grin.

“No, but I didn’t have you lying beneath me, dying for my cock before. So, this is better.”

When I lay over the top of her again, my hand comes to rest in her hair while I nestle my straining dick between her legs, rubbing against the thin swath of fabric of her underwear. She makes a gasping noise when I do that, so I make sure to do it again while I trail kisses up and down her neck.

“Bella, tu sei tutto ciò che stavo aspettando,” I say softly, letting my lips brush lightly against her skin with each word.

She pushes her hips up harder, her fingers scraping down my spine as her back arches into me. Her voice catches in her throat as she begs me to tell her what I said. I love having this power over her, so I almost deny her that. But I want her to know what I am thinking.

“You are everything I’ve been waiting for,” I whisper as I move to the other side of her neck, nuzzling my nose into the crook next to her shoulder.

“Oh god,” she moans. “Tell me more.”

I smile against her skin before placing a long, sucking kiss to the same spot. I want to see my mark there, and I watch with satisfaction as a faint bloom of purple rises to the top. My teeth scrape across the area as I deliver a small bite that makes her buck into me again. When I reach around to unhook her bra, I am momentarily worried I might not be able to do it. But I work the clasp with no issues, and toss it over the bed. She is already trying to wiggle out of her panties, so I help her pull those off, as well.

Once she is fully naked and sprawled out underneath me, I can’t believe I am getting to touch the very same body I was losing my mind over and beating my dick to just a few days prior. I squeeze her breasts together, running my thumbs lightly over her erect nipples and watch her squirm beneath me.

I can hardly wait much longer, but I force myself to take my time. After shoving my pants the rest of the way off, I grab her thighs and drag her roughly to me while positioning myself over her again, slotting my diamond-hard dick into the slick folds of her pussy. I don’t enter her yet, I just slide my cock back and forth, taking note of every little movement and gasp of air she makes.

“Five…” she whimpers again, and fuck if that isn’t that sexiest sound I have ever heard in my life.

“What do you want, sweet girl?” I tease, leaning down again to suck on one of her tits, letting my teeth graze her nipple. “Tell me.”

“You,” she whines, her fingernails raking over my shoulders. “I want you.”

“Is that right?” I ask, like the giant asshole I am before moving over to her other perfect tit and doing the same thing there. “What part of me do you want?”

I love the huffy little noise of impatience she gives me, and I hold her hips steady with my hand so she can’t rub against me. I want full control of her right now, and if she wants to use me to get off, she’s going to have to play by my rules. I take the head of my cock and tease it against her opening, but I don’t let myself give in to my urges quite yet. I want to hear her answer me.

She must know exactly how to play this little game and get exactly what she wants, because all of a sudden she is grabbing the back of my neck, forcing me to look at her while she grits her teeth and uses her other hand to squeeze my ass. “I want you to fuck me with that big thick cock of yours, Five.”

There is no way I can hold out after that, so in another second I am doing just that; lining my cock up and easing it in. Even just sliding my straining head inside is enough to make me want to come and I stop what I’m doing for a moment. I am trying to take my time so that I don’t completely humiliate myself by blowing my load before I even get one good pump inside of her, but my mind is scrambled a thousand different ways and she is moaning and clutching at my ass, trying to shove me in faster.

I bury my face in her neck again, closing my eyes in concentration. I continue to push inside, the hot wetness of her silky cunt engulfing me. I hear her wanton moans next to my ear but I try to block them out for the time being so I can figure this out. When I am finally all of the way inside her, buried to the hilt, I stop again.

“Are you ok?” I pant out, trying to cover up my hesitation.

She nods desperately and rocks her hips upwards. “Fuck me, hard, Five…please.”

I want to give her what she wants, but I also don’t want to be the reason she’s laughing with her girlfriends tomorrow morning. I start to thrust into her, slowly at first to get the rhythm down and then I pick up the pace. I keep my face hidden while I work through everything I’m feeling right now. Everything is amazing. Her body writhing under mine, her perfect tits pressed against my chest, her nails digging into my back, and her warm breath rushing over my shoulder. I cannot let myself come until I make her come first. I cannot.

I start to think of unsexy things to occupy my mind. Baseball. String theory. Luther’s ape body. Derek in a skirt.

Nothing is really working, and I’m starting to slow down again so I can pace myself, but she is ramming her hips up into me and grunting into my shoulder. “Five, please…” she is begging me. “Harder.”

Then, like a bolt from heaven, I know what I have to do and that’s to regain all of the control again.

I raise myself up on my palms so that I can look down on her, my hair falling into my eyes. “Ti fa sentire bene? Does that feel good, baby?”

The cry she lets out is all I need as an answer and I slam my cock into her so hard her body is shoved back from the impact. She reaches behind her to brace herself with her hands flat on the headboard.

“Oh, fuck,” she whimpers.

I thrust myself into her, over and over, fucking her rough and hard as she moans beautifully with each penetration of my dick. Her legs come up to wrap around my waist, her ankles hooking over one another and trapping me close to her body. I let her stay like this for a little bit, but I can’t drive into her like I want, so I smack the side of her thigh and stop my movements.

“Legs in the air,” I order, my jaw clenched tight.

She does exactly as I say, opening her legs wide so I can have full access to her tight and slick pussy.

“Good girl,” I praise softly. “Brava ragazza.”

Her desperate noises are growing louder and higher-pitched as her fingers press harder into my back and her neck arches. I can’t resist the urge, so I lean down, biting at her smooth, olive skin that is fully exposed to me. She gasps loudly and I chuckle at her reaction.

“You are so fucking sexy, Bella. But you’re even sexier when you let me take control.”

“Yes,” she pants, even though I didn’t ask her a question. “Do anything you want. Oh god!” she screams out when I slam into her again. “Fuck, Five, yes! Keep going!”

I am starting to sweat now, the muscles in my arms and thighs straining with the effort of fucking her hard and fast. Taking a brief pause, I grab both of her wrists in one hand, pulling them together and holding them tightly over her head while I slam them down into the mattress.

“Stay,” I tell her and she nods, her eyes wide and her lips parted.

As I pound away on top of her, swearing and sweating like a fiend, she’s still not finishing. I’m not sure how much more I can hold out. I’ve shown great restraint in my life and had to prove my resolve in a number of different ways, but this tops them all.

Fuck, if I don’t come inside this girl in the next few seconds I’m going to lose my damn mind.

I free one of her hands. “Finger yourself,” I hiss as I look down on her, my hair plastered to my forehead.

She does exactly that and when I peer down between us I see my hard cock pistoning in and out of her, coated in a thin layer of her slick. I watch as her hand starts working her clit, rubbing her fingers in a hard circle as she cries out even louder and moans my name.

“Fuck,” I curse under my breath. I lean in close to her again, grazing my cheek against hers and letting my mouth roam softly under her jaw. “Vieni per me, Isabella,” I tell her. “Come for me.”

I’m not entirely sure she even heard me, but it doesn’t matter. She is suddenly screaming and bucking against me wildly, clutching at my shoulder blades and biceps and biting at my collarbone. I can feel her tight pussy contracting around my cock and that’s all I can take. I spill inside of her, not caring about the potential consequences of our actions, shaking and shuddering on top of her. The long, low groan I let out is lost in her neck as I cling to her like my life depends on it. I have never experienced an orgasm as intense as this and the waves that are washing over my body feel like they may never end.

They start to subside eventually, and I let my muscles relax. Sinking down so that I am flush with her body, I kiss her softly and she circles her legs around my waist again, resting her heels against my ass. I can’t stop trembling as she strokes my back with her hands, running them up and down gently while I try to catch my breath. I bite back the urge to say something stupid like “I love you” or “Don’t leave me”, so instead I hold her tighter to me and kiss her sweat-damp shoulder.

“Five,” she breathes out, running her hands through my hair. “That was amazing.”

I nod into her before raising my face to look her in her eyes. She looks absolutely ravaged, with her lips swollen and red, and her hair a tangled mess all around her. We smile at one another and then we start laughing quietly. It’s nice and it’s comfortable.

Adjusting ourselves so that I am holding her from behind, her back pressed against my chest, I run my fingers through her messy hair and kiss the back of her neck. I have never felt so relaxed and at ease in my life. I’m not sure how these things usually go, but I don’t want to leave her or this bed. I realize that she may be waiting until it’s socially acceptable to kick me out, however, and I start to brace myself for the inevitable.

“Bella,” I whisper.

“Hmm?” she answers dreamily, tracing her fingers over my arm.

“This feels good.”

She nods and squeezes my hand. “Yeah, it does.”

She doesn’t say anything else, so I’m still not sure what’s going to happen. Then she flips around to face me, placing her hand on the side of my face. I close my eyes and press into her hand.

“Five,” she says softly. “Stay a little while?”

I nod. “SÌ, Bella, Io resterò. As long as you want, I will stay.”

When I walk into the bar the next day, I’m whistling “Walking On Sunshine” to myself and the cocky smirk I usually reserve for special occasions is plastered on my face.

I see Derek in his usual spot, so I stride over, slapping him on the back hard enough to make him fall off his stool. He whips his head around with a scowl before hoisting himself back up again.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“Nothing at all,” I answer, plopping myself onto my own stool. “Why do you ask?”

“Jesus, you’re acting weird.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah, you’re smiling. And not in a way that makes me think you want to murder me. Like you’re actually happy.”

I shrug, grinning even wider as I flag the bartender down, ordering my usual whiskey.

“Holy shit,” Derek exclaims, turning his body towards me. “You got laid, didn’t you?”

I give another shrug and he punches me in the shoulder. “Fuck, you stupid asshole! Why didn’t you tell me? I want to hear all the details.”

I frown. “I’m not telling you shit, you creepy bastard.”

“Come on!” he pleads. “At least tell me a little bit! I deserve that much for having to listen to all of your whining for the last few months. Spill it, Hargreeves.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t stop smiling, so I decide to humor him. “Ok, fine. Yes, I got laid.”

“Ha!” He bangs his palm on the top of the bar. “Yes!”

The bartender brings me my drink and I take a sip, still grinning like a fucking Cheshire cat. “Four times.”

Derek spits out part of his drink, spraying my lap with his spittle. I wipe it off with an irritated swipe of my hand, but honestly I don’t even care. “Four times? With the same girl?”

“Same girl. Same night,” I state haughtily, like I’m some big, swinging dick pimp.

“Shit,” Derek says with a shake of his head. Then he raises his glass in a toast. “Well, it’s about fucking time. I knew you had it in you.”

I clink his glass with mine and take a sip. “I suppose I have you to thank for part of it.”

“Why is that?”

“Picturing you in a skirt when I was trying not to prematurely ejaculate seemed to do the trick.”

“Oh, fuck off!” he exclaims, but he’s laughing and so am I.

“No, really. Thank you for just…being there.” I start to get embarrassed from my rare show of emotions and look away.

Derek puts a hand on my shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

This is why I like Derek. We don’t have to say a whole lot to one another, but we get it. We’re here for each other but we don’t need to cry a fucking river to let the other know.

We sit in silence for a minute, just sipping our drinks. Then I start smiling again and I turn to him. “Tu mi completi.”

“What is that?”

“You complete me,” I tell him with a big grin.

He sighs and nudges me with his knee. “Yeah…you, too, asshole.”

#five hargreeves x OC #number five x OC #number five smut #five hargreeves smut #tua smut #five hargreeves #number five #number five POV #badkittywrites #requests open #anon request #smut requests

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amathslutsguidetofandom · 8 months ago

Note

you already know what i’m gonna ask for lol. i need my airport man my love. what do you think would’ve happened if he asked me for my number instead of WALKING AWAY or if i magically found him in duty free. BETTER YET what if he just happened to be on the same flight as me?

let’s pretend airport man is steve rogers please. the blonde and that accent gives steve vibes.

Need A Hand? - 1

PAIRINGS: Steve Rogers x Reader

SUMMARY: Flying back to Washington for a family event, you were already ready for it to be over in a week. You didn't want to face the comments from your family about your life as a single working woman. But what happens when you walk into the event accompanied by the stranger you sat next to on the plane? What if that stranger isn't really a stranger?

WARNINGS: Swearing, comments about loneliness from family members, a creepy guy

WORD COUNT: 1,877

ENJOY!

You knew the coffee was cold before the liquid hit your tongue, but you still needed the caffeine. Tipping your head back, you downed the whole thing quickly.

Wincing at the bitter taste, you threw the cardboard cup in the nearest trash can. You knew a 2am flight wouldn’t be the best experience, but you were not going to drive all the way.

You were on the last available flight. You knew your dumbass should’ve booked an earlier ticket, but can you really blame yourself? It’s the middle of December, and people are being stuffed onto planes, wanting to get back to their families for Christmas.

You?

You didn’t want to visit Washington; you had already built your life in the city.

Your family was shocked when you finally revealed you got the position as a Data Analyst at Stark Industries; however, they were even more shocked at your urgency to move ASAP.

They didn’t know that the reason you moved to NYC was because you wanted to leave the nagging and constant subtle unwanted comments behind. It would’ve been one month since you last visited home for Thanksgiving, which didn’t turn out great either; your grandmother made comments on how you didn’t have a man yet.

Rolling your carry-on behind you with one hand, you adjusted the backpack hanging off your shoulders with the other. Your eyes scanned the large gate numbers in hopes of finding the right one.

GATE 23.

You sighed and started heading in the direction of your gate. When you did find a seat in the plethora of people, you called dibs with your eyes and sat down, scrolling mindlessly on social media for the next half an hour.

-------

The aisle seat was somewhat ideal; economy wasn’t the best, but it was something you had to deal with for the next three hours. The man next to you had already started becoming a problem. He started small talk, and you gave in for a while.

“Going to see family?” he asked, looking at you with a wide grin.

You returned a pursed smile, not really wanting to interact with strangers this early in the morning.

“Yeah, family stuff,” you replied, securing your seatbelt and tightening it to fit your waist.

The questions were normal until the man started getting personal. “Got a boyfriend?” he smiled sleazily, and you cringed on the inside.

You fake smiled and replied, “no.” He nodded and gave you a weird smirk. “Why? You’re a gorgeous thing.”

You shuddered slightly and went back to looking at your phone, but he didn’t get the signal. The suggestions he kept throwing your way made you want to gag.

Thankfully, a flight attendant did see you become uncomfortable for a while, and she, in a few minutes, made her way to you.

“Ma’am, we do have a seat up front in business class. In case you are up for the offer?” She smiled sweetly at you but harshly at the man next to you.

You nodded and got up immediately. “I’d like that,” you said, smiling at your savior. “See ya,” you said bitterly to the man next to you and followed the flight attendant after getting your carry-on down from the cabin.

-------

The seats were plusher and nicer; you groaned in comfort when you sank yourself into it. You were sipping on some wine the flight attendant, the one that helped you, poured into a glass and handed over to you.

You gazed outside through the window, enjoying your peace and quiet, until someone cleared their throat in the aisle.

“Sorry, Ma’am, but I, um, I’m your neighbour for the next few hours,” the infamous blonde man chuckled shyly and scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh, shit, yeah. Sorry,” you got up quickly and allowed him to sidle past your seat and sit down, then he shoved his backpack under the seat in front of him. You sat back down and continued to sip on your wine, feeling a tad bit awkward sitting next to Captain America.

“I’m Steve, by the way,” he extended his hand.

You shifted the glass to your left hand, then told him your name while shaking his hand with your right. “I mean, yeah, I know who you are already. So…” you laughed nervously. He chuckled at your answer, “yeah?” To which you nodded again and went back to staring at the seat in front of you.

The lights in the plane dimmed, and you flagged down a flight attendant to hand your glass back to her. Members of the crew made their way up and down the aisle until three of them settled in three different sections of the plane to start the safety demonstration You listened mindlessly, while your heart jogged for a mile as the thought of sitting next to Steve Rogers finally sank in. He did listen to the safety demonstration and actually read the safety brochures, which were tucked into the seat in front of him. Soon, the flight attendants were preparing for take-off.

“What’s taking you to Washington?” Steve asked you, facing your direction. You made eye contact and saw the soft smile he threw your way; you instantly melted in your seat and smiled back.

“Oh, my sister is getting married,” you nodded and adjusted the neck pillow around your neck. He nodded and crossed his arms over his muscled chest. “I see.”

“What about you? I’m guessing something related to ‘Captain America’?” You chuckled nervously as you felt the plane rumble slightly. He laughed at your assumption, “you would think so, but no. Just wanted to visit the place again.”

You nodded in understanding but quickly reached for the armrest when the plane started speeding. You gripped the plastic hard and closed your eyes hard, trying to act normal when really you felt like you were in a washing machine.

“Here,” you heard him whisper. You slowly opened your eyes and saw the big open palm he was offering. You smiled in thanks, grateful for understanding, and intertwined your fingers with his before squeezing it for dear life as the plane lifted from the ground.

-------

You munched on the dry Biscoff’s they handed out during the second hour of the flight. From your peripheral, you saw Steve reading a book and at times glancing out the window.

“Hey, I just wanted to say thanks for the… you know… the hand, during take-off,” you smiled nervously, hoping that you weren’t interrupting him and his reading. He looked up from his book and bookmarked his page before closing it. “Oh, it’s no problem at all,” he smiled at you, and his eyes crinkled at the corners.

You always saw him on TV and in the trash magazines your roommate reads, never up close. And now that you were seated literally right next to him, you felt as though he’s just a regular person. It’s not like you can ask him ‘how were the 1940s’, you don’t know him on a personal level.

But you kind of do; you had to study about him in high school during history class. You know where and when he was born, the place where he grew up. Your thoughts were interrupted by the crackling of the pilot’s voice that played through the plane. You couldn’t understand the gibberish he said. “What?”

“We’re about to hit some turbulence,” Steve translated for you, and your jaw dropped.

“Great, more reasons as to why I should’ve driven,” you rubbed your eyes.

He laughed at your annoyance towards the plane you were currently flying in.

You glanced at the book he was reading and saw the title. You instantly had to hold your laugh back as you recognized the ‘Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire’ book cover.

“Harry Potter, huh?” You pointed at the book in his lap. He looked down at it and nodded. “A friend of mine recommended it. Have you read it?”

You nodded quickly, “oh yeah, it was one of my favourites as a kid.” He smiled at your response.

“I’m a George Weasley girl, all the way. He’s such an underrated character,” you told him as your eyes moved from the book to him.

“Yeah, I think you could say that. But I would say that Hagrid is underrated as well,” he said, adding to your statement. You nodded along, “that is actually quite true, yeah.”

A moment of silence passed before he broke it. “If you don’t mind me asking, you mentioned about going to a wedding?” he asked, craning his neck to face you. You nodded, affirming his assumption.

“Are you going alone?” That made you raise your brows in pure shock.

“Uh, I—yeah,” you shook the confusion from your head. “Why?” You smiled, wondering why he asked you the semi-personal question.

He tucked his chin to his chest a little bit before facing you with the slightest smirk on his face. “Oh, I just thought that a gorgeous woman like you would have been going with someone already.”

You snorted, “WOW.” You really couldn’t believe he just said that.

“Why is that funny?” he smiled at you, a tad bit confused. You chuckled, “I just-‘gorgeous women’? Really?”

He laughed along with you, “I can’t say I’m wrong.” You bit the inside of your cheek to prevent your grin from expanding any further.

------

The next hour or so was filled with you and Steve talking about home and what you two did back in the city.

“Stark Industries? Really?” Steve was genuinely shocked at the revelation of your workplace. He wondered how he never saw you before. He asked how it was, working as a Data Analyst for Tony, and you replied saying that Tony can be immature sometimes, but he does treat you as an equal, unlike your previous jobs.

The flight went smoothly, and you and Steve were in constant conversation. You thought that you never had a conversation this good before. You were actually a bit disappointed when the pilot announced that the plane was about to land soon.

-------

“Need a hand?” Steve asked when he saw you struggling to get your carry-on from the cabin.

“Yeah,” you nodded sheepishly. He flashed you with one of his million-dollar smiles and effortlessly brought your carry-on down from the overhead shelf. You said your thanks and replied with a ‘No problem’.

-------

Steve finally got all of his bags, but you were still standing next to the belt awaiting your final one.

“I guess this is where we part,” you laughed nervously, toying with the strings of your hoodie.

You saw it in his face; he didn’t want to leave you just yet. And you were thankful for that because you didn’t too.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” he smiled, but this time it was sad.

This was bad, really bad. You both didn’t want to leave the other.

“Have a good Christmas,” he finished the sentence off with your name, and your heart fluttered with how it rolled off his tongue. Why did you heart flutter?

You both smiled sadly at each other for the final time before he reluctantly parted ways. Why did he hesitate?

💌💌💌

Genuinely upset you couldn't get your man @yiiiikesmish, hope this helps you soothe your woes babes.

Again, if any of you lovelies want be added to the taglist. Please comment here!!🤗🤗🤗

Till' then

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers series #steve rogers angst #steve rogers au #steven grant rogers #captain america

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misguidedasgardian · 1 year ago

Text

I want to steal the bride (1)

1. As Lemon and Chocolate

MASTERLIST

Summary: It had been ten years since you met Aemond, your best friend

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x BestFriend!Reader, Cregan Star x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Aemond is a sl*t jiji, active sexual life, implied smut, might miss some warnigns, Aemond does threaten to throw himself of a bridge, but he is playing, I will put thaton here just in case

Wordcount: 5k

Disclaimer: this is a direct adaptation of the movie "Made of honor, and its script! the pictures of the header are not mine, I found them on pinterest

Notes: Well, this is of course the adaptation of the movie! so it won’t be long… five parts maybe? including this one! is my favorite movie, so enjoy! Aemond calls reader “love” a lot, because I’m tired of the use of (Y/N) jejeje

10 years later

“Good morning”, she purred, hugging his shoulders, trying to prevent him from getting dressed and leaving. Aemond only chuckled, turning slightly and kissing her cheek

“I'm late”, he said matter of factly, with a smirk on his lips. He left his female companion on the bed and went to grab his dressing shirt and jacket, putting them on quickly

“What are you doing tonight?”, she asked sweetly, oh she was cute, enough to have seen her twice already

“I don't do back-to-backs”, he remembered her

“Isn't that what we were doing last night??”, she said, raising one of her perfectly trimmed eyebrows

“No, that was something different”, he reminded her, “back-to-backs are seeing each other two nights in a row and you know I don't do that”, he reminded her gently. She sighed, covering herself with the sheets

“Couldn't you just break one of your stupid rules?”, she whined

“No”, he said shortly, grabbing his jacket from a chair in the corner of the room

“For me?”, she asked then

“I'm sorry. I don't break the rules”, he said with a soft smile, he did want to see her again, just not like that. “I have a rule about that”, he leaned in and kissed her cheek, “see you next week”. She left her in her bed and exited her apartment

“Gods I’m late”, he muttered, climbing into his classic convertible

He speed down the street and into the Starbucks that was the nearest to your job, jumped out finding a miracle parking spot and jogged inside

He didn’t have tog et back to work, but you did, so the lunchtime was always a bit speedy, but to no matter, he loved more than anything his lunchtimes with you

“Excuse me”, he called the attention of the barista and shot him a quick hello, “Sorry. Can I get a grande drip, and a decaf, triple grande non-fat, extra-hot, stirred, no-foam Caramel Macchiato?”, he felt proud of how easy he had learned your coffee order, “with whipped cream, extra caramel?”, he continued, “And fill that 70 percent of the way. Thank you!”

He received his order fairly quickly, and moved to the side to sweeten his coffee. He looked to the side and couldn’t help but gaze upon the beautiful woman that stood there, with his coffee in her hand, and hers on the other

“Oh, here. Let me put a coffee collar on that for you”, he whispered sweetly, he grabbed his own invention and placed it around the cup for her

“Oh, thank you”, she flirted

“I hear the guy that invented that gets a dime for each one used”, he said raising one of his eyebrows

“You're kidding”, she teased

“I am not”, he assured her, giving her a wink, “That could add up”, she smirked, looking at the second coffee she was holding

“Oh, I think I picked up yours by accident”, she whispered seductively. Aemond smirked, receiving the coffee from her, “Sorry about that”, she made sure to touch his fingers and much and as long as she could.

“Oh, that's all right. Thank you”, he said, noticing the number and her name on the collar

“Anytime”, she flirted

“Bye-bye”, he said, remembering he needed to rush, he got out of the coffee shop quickly, looking over at the paper cup, "Gloria.", he tasted

He got lucky again when the traffic was smooth on his way to your job

He found just in front of the crotch of the painting of a man, and the movement you were making made you look like you were… he chuckled, looking up at you, he took his time, and when he spend a couple of minutes staring at your funny pose, he decided to make himself known

“Good morning Love, coffee the way you like it”, you turned around to see your friend standing by the scaffold, smiling up at you, you laughed

“Perfect timing. I just finished working on his balls!”, you giggled, pointing behind you

“That's some balls... Yeah. Good”, he mumbled, embarrassed, “Um, so, I made a reservation”, he finalized with a shy smile

So not even fifteen minutes later, you were having lunch in your favorite chinese place in King’s Landing

“So, uh, which rule is this again?” you asked, sipping on the rests of your coffee

“No back-to-backs”, he said quickly, signaling for the waiter with the cart to pass by your table

“Oh, isn't it the same as the "no more than once a week" rule?”, you asked, entertained

“No, the "once a week" rule works Monday to Friday…”

“Oh, so, theoretically, you could have a date on Sunday night and then Monday without breaking it”, you said, really impressed

“Exactly, you got it”, you loved it when Aemond smiled like that, pursing even more his curvy lips

“Of course!”, you teased, “Ah, here we go!”, you chanted when the cart was coming towards you, you were starving, “Good morning”

“Hey, good morning”, Aemond greeted

“Can I get the... steamed buns, uh, the scalloped steamed dumplings and the vegetarian and shrimp steamed dumplings?”, you asked, pointing at all the more healthy options. You caught Aemond staring as the lady served you your food

“Thank you”, he whispered, once the nice lady had left

“For what?”, you laughed

“You know how much I love the fried stuff. You're looking after me”, he said with a soft smile

“Of course!”, you said back with a wide smile, “that is why I’m here for! right?”, you teased, “So, what did she say?” you kept the conversation going about his last conquest

“Oh, she was hurt, but, you know, at least I was…”

“But you were honest, weren't you?”, you mocked

“What? I was. I am. Always”, he defended, almost offended

“I know you are, but it's just… shocking how you use it as a shield”, you analyzed

“Maybe I should lie. Be more like Jaime Lannister. Say whatever it takes to get a woman in bed”, he said quickly

“Do not be like Jaime Lannister. He's so gross.”, you said, taking out your tongue in a gesture of disgust

“He only hit on you once”, he said with a smile

“At my father's funeral!”, you replied, “he was his friend!”

“Okay, he's not known for his sensitivity”, he hissed

“Oh, God. Anyways…”, you dismissed, he looked at you

“What?”, he asked

“Nothing.”, you answered

“Oh, I know that "nothing".” he said, squinting his eye at you, “It's not nothing, it's something. Anyway...?”

“Anyway, we both know you don't need to lie to get a woman into bed”, you deviated from the subject at hand. Grabbing the cup with the woman’s number on it

“Gloria”, he called, “I don't wanna lose that.Can I keep it? Thank you”, he said, taking the cup from your hand, he admired the number written there like it was some sort of artwork

You couldn’t help but feel a tinge of… something in your chest, you sometimes asked about his conquests so you get more used to the idea of Aemond being a playboy, and to convince yourself he was never going to change….

“Here's another rule too: 24-hour rule.”, he said, finally leaving the cup on the table, and looking at you, “I can't call her for another 24 hours. Then it appears I'm too desperate”

“Yeah, right. It’s better for her to think that you are some hoarder that would keep a disposable cup of coffee for more than an hour!”, you mocked, he seemed shocked and then he nodded

“Good point”, he chuckled.

When you were done with a healthy lunch, you were ready to splurge, in a good and needed dessert. Of course, like always, the best bakery in town was filled to the brim, almost a block of waiting line, but you didn’t care, as you walked to the end, of course, always talking

“You know, Renly sent me another letter”, you teased him

“Asking you to move to Storm’s End and marry him again?”, he asked, a bit annoyed

“A slice of apple-crumb pie”, you guessed, ignoring him as you walked by a table that ordered just that

“No. Got that last time”, he dismissed, “You guys broke up like a year ago”

“Nineteen months”, you said unimpressed

“You are counting?”, he mocked

“No, he is. It was in the letter”, you looked at him and he laughed, “Lemon, butter-cream cup”, you guessed again

“Hmm, not feeling the cream cup today”, he said, looking back at you, you coiled your arm with his and lean over his shoulder

“Cranberry-orange muffin?”

“Oh, Love, come on. You're losing”, he twhined, squeezing your arm

“I know, I know, I know. Okay, okay, okay, okay…”, you said, looking at the showcase with all the desserts in it

“Come on. You're disappointing me”, he teased

“I got it. I got it!”, you celebrated squealing in his ear,

“Whoa”, he said, leaning away from you but you held onto him tightly

“Okay, I so have it, I so have it!”, you kept teasing, “Cream-cheese-swirl brownie!”, you guessed, and only when you saw his smile, you knew you got it right

“Ooh. Mmmm yeah, you're so good”, he said back

“YES!”, you celebrated until everyone in line was watching, “Mmmm I want one too”, you muttered

After you had your delicious desserts on the go, you made your last stop of your lunch break, to a department antique shop, he had brought you along to pick a gift for his grandfather Otto, who was getting married for the sixth? time?

“What do you think of this?”, he asked, showing you a crystal spice rack, “I think we should bring them this”, he muttered, you looked at him seriously

“Aemond, I'm not going to another one of your grandfather's weddings”, you said, annoyed

“Love? Please”, he purred with that soft voice you enjoyed hearing

“Take one of the girls you've been rubbing against”, you teased, looking away from him

“No weddings or family events”, he remembered you

“Oh, that's right, I forgot that rule!”, you giggled, looking at the strange things this antique shop had to offer, “Leaves the wrong impression”, you mimicked. Aemond continued as you both walked amongst the small shops. You looked at him with a warning in your eyes

“It does”. He agreed as you sighed, you were going to have to attend his grandfather’s wedding… again didn’t you? well the excuse to dress up and eat good free food did sound entertaining

You stopped by a shop who sold leather purses, one with a small alligator attached to it caught your eyes

“Is this made with real alligator?”, you asked the old salesman

“Yes, baby alligator”, he said proudly, you opened your mouth, enraged

“You should be ashamed of yourself!”, you cursed him. Aemond came quickly and grabbed you gently by your upper arms and drag you away before you jumped the man

You kept looking at a small shop of watches and belts, whe Aemond separated from you to crouch at the side of a beautiful Golden Retriever

“Look at you!”, he cooed with a childish voice, grabbing his face and started petting him. The dog loved it, moving his tail left and right, “Hello, there. Hello, there. Aren't you beautiful? Oh, I love you. Yes, I do, I love you!”, he kept saying, and you raised one of your eyebrows as you looked down at the interaction.

A man as handsome as Aemond, with that shiny platinum blonde hair, and those features, petting one of the sweetest animals on earth… it was an image worth millions, and you understood why he had so much game

“You're beautiful. You're so beautiful. Look at that face! Love you, love you, love you!”, he kept saying, as he finally gave the poor dog a rest and stood up to continue his shopping

“You should try saying that to a human sometime”, you teased

“What? A human? You don't say that to a human”, he mocked back, he seemed serious, but then he cracked up a smile, “You're sweet. Love you. See? I said it!”, he said softly, you only smiled and kept looking around. “Love, please. Come to the wedding!”, he begged grabbing your arm softly

“No.”, you said softly, “He gets married and I go!”, you whined

“I go because he's my grandfather and I care deeply for the man and everybody knows he doesn't love them..”, he said quietly, “they don't love him. It's pathetic. Breaks my heart. I don't know what to say”, he kept saying, you looked at him squinting your eyes, wondering if he was serious, his face and that movement of his lips on which he pouted shortly and then draw them back told you he was

“You know, if someone's making a mistake and it's not your place to interfere, you simply say: "I'm happy you're happy.", yous aid with a smile, he look back at you and smiled back

"I'm happy you're happy.", he repeated

“Yeah”, you muttered, coiling your arm with his like you tended to do

“Okay. I'll do that”, he said as he kept looking for something to but, mumbling and repeating those four words

He look back at you with those puppy eyes

“I promise you, this is the last time I'll ask you to come!”, he said quickly, “And then I'll find somebody else to come for the next few”, the prospect of him getting so close to another that he would ask to his grandfather wedding did not amused you as you thought it would, “Love, please”

“That's cute”, you mocked, and then you sighed, “last time”, you sounded defeated

“Thank you! Thank you!”, he leaned in and kissed your cheek

. . .

Aemond fixed his tie as he walked up the steps to the front of the chapel, he there could see his grandfather Otto, and his lawyer Erryk talking frantically on the phone

“Right. Okay, okay. You get the house in the Hamptons”, he said to his grandfather, Aemond frowned, looking at his grandad, “She's asking for the apartment in the city and 30 grand a month”

“Thirty?”, he whined, “but…”

“Are you still negotiating the prenup?” Aemond asked alarmed, as soon as he saw him Otto walked towards him to cradle his son’s cheeks

“Now the party starts, my son is here”, he celebrated, hugging him tightly

“Grandad, please. I can't breathe”, he chuckled, “Grandfather. Please”

“Did you bring the lovely (y/n)?” he asked, finally releasing him

“Yes, I did”, he said with a shy smile

“You know, you don't act on that pretty soon, you know what I'm gonna do?”, he teased

“No”, he whispered, scared

“I'm gonna make her my number six”

“It's seven”, interrupted his lawyer, “This is number six”, they both look at the lawyer and then turned to each other

“Yeah, that sounds about right”, laughed Otto, he then looked at his grandson.

Aemond was the only one speaking to his grandfather, his mother had cut him out, around his third marriage, so did his brothers, but he couldn’t

“My God, you are pretty…”, he whispered

“Oh, grandad…”

“I used to be that pretty once”, he said with a chuckle, “Eryk, look how pretty my boy is!”, he celebrated, turning to him

“He's beautiful. They won't accept a minimum of five times a week”, he said pointing at the phone on his ear

“She promised five, I want five”, said Otto

“What did she promise you five times a week?”, asked Aemond, white as paper

“Four times?”, asked Otto, Eryk shook his head

“Two”, he fought

“Oh, this is disturbing”, whined Aemond, taking a few steps back, he looked at the marble stair he just climbed and wondered what kind of damage he would get if he just jumped, nothing major, only a few bumps… only to stop hearing this conversation

“Four, and make it a weekly BJ!”, Aemond sighed, rubbing his forehead

Otto looked at his grandson

“Come on, tell me. Say what you gotta say”, Aemond raised his head to look at him

“Well, I'm happy if you're happy”, he said, smiling when he remembered you and what you told him, but Otto chuckled

"You're too old for her, grandad. She doesn't love you.This is embarrassing. You're gonna rack up your fifth divorce.", he mocked

“Sixth”, remembered Erryk

“Sixth”, agreed Otto

“Come on, I'm happy if you're happy”, Aemond said, shooting him a calming smile

“Bullshit”, he laughed

“They'll go for four if you exercise more!”, celebrated Erryk, “She says you can't gain any more weight”

“Take it. Deal!”, Otto cheered, “I told her I weighed 10 pounds more than I do. Ain't love grand?”, he said cheerfully. Erryk finished the call and passed him two blocks of papers

“Sign them both, please”, he said quickly

“What's he signing now?”, asked Aemond, worried

“The current prenup and his last divorce papers”, said Erryk with a content smile. Aemond’s smile wiped out pretty quickly

“Ah, that's just great”, he mumbled

He was part of the marriage courtship, so he didn’t get to see you until the party, that was held a few blocks away from the church

You were waiting for him with a flute of champagne in hand, and a mashup of “i got a woman” with “gold digger” was blasting the speakers and got everybody dancing on the dancefloor

“Cheers”, you giggled, he took his and clinged his with yours

“Cheers”

“Did you tell your grandfather you loved him?”, you asked him

“I told him I cared for him”, you sighed

“You can't even tell your grandfather. I don't get that”, you said, defeated, “you call me love all the time!”

“It's a guy thing”

“No, it's a Aemond thing”, you corrected

“I’m going to need something stronger than this”, he whispered, “Oh, well, you're an "I love you" slut”, you gasped

“Are you kidding me??”, you asked, the audacity

“You say it all the time, to everybody”

“Only the people that are important to me”, you defended

You were interrupted when the waiter brought you pieces of cake that you ordered

“Oh, this looks so good”, you moaned when he placed in front of you the lemon cake that you ordered, in turn, Aemond ordered the chocolate one

“That does looks good. What is that?”, he asked whispering in your ear leaning over you, he used his fork to steal a piece of cake from your plate and you giggled as he tasted it and moaned with satisfaction, “Lemon. I should've ordered this”

“This looks good”, you said back, stealing a piece of his cake instead

“You always order better than I do”, he said with a smile, ‘It's lemon, right? It's good. I'm ordering that from now on”

“No, you won't”, you fought with a smile

“Why?”, he asked

“I need you to order the chocolate cake so I can have some”, you answered simply, the chocolate was just delicious. He chuckled

“That makes sense”, he said happily

“There's my son!” You almost spilled your drink when you saw Aemond’s new stepmother approaching you, with a very inappropriate low cut dress, she was gorgeous,

“Here we go”, Aemond muttered to turn to her with a smile, “Grandson actually”, he said with a mockingly smile

“Oh very funny!”, she giggled, “isn’t he funny?”, she asked you, you only laughed

“Very much so!”, you quipped

“Margaery. How are you?”, he asked politely

“If you're a bad boy, I'm gonna spank you”, she giggled, Aemond looked back at you with scared eyes but a weird smile on his lips

“Yeah. Do you know what I would like to say to you? Is that... Ow!”, you stopped him by pinching his arm

“I want you to listen to me, Aemond”, she said with her big cat-like eyes, gods she was beautiful, she took his hand, and placed it in her chest, you gasps as Aemond was visibly uncomfortable

“Yes”, he encouraged quickly and nervously

“If you need any money… or you need any advice…”, she said slowly

“Right”, he said uncomfortably, trying to pull away his hand but she would let him

“...or you got girl problems”

“I don't think… it’s a good idea”

“I need you to think of me how you would a real mother”

“Grandmother!”, you pitched in and Aemond snorted

“Yeah, that's exactly what I…”, Otto showed up, hugging his wife tightly who released Aemond

“Look at this beauty, will you?”, he boasted, his chest filled with pride, “Hello, sweetie”, he greeted you

“Hello Otto, it was a wonderful wedding”

“Thank you my dear” he then turned to his new wife, “Drunk as the night I first met her”, he said with admiration making her giggle

“So romantic”, mumbled Aemond. Then the bartender gave you the shot that Aemond had asked for, but before he could drank it, Margaery snatched it from his hand and drank it quickly

“Oh, please. By all means”, muttered Aemond rolling his eyes

“You are a bad influence on her!”, teased Otto, you just eyed Aemond carefully

“Me?”, he asked back

“Last shot, okay?”, Otto warned his wife, who roared to life and giggled, grabbing her new husband’s hand

“I'm stealing you away, let’s dance!”, she laughed, and they walked awy from the both of you

“He does know that he can just date, right?”, you asked Aemond, entertained

“No, I don't think he does”, he whispered, now the bartender finally grace you with two shots, you took one each

“To grandmothers”, he said, defeated

“To mothers. Cheers”, you giggled back

You drank down the shot and you hissed when it burned your throats, this was going to be a long night

Aemond frowned suddenly, and you followed his uneven eyes (he had a glass eye installed). but couldn’t find anything unusual

“Oh, God”, he said suddenly trying to hide behind the bar, “Hide me”, he said, grabbing you and placing you in front of him

“What?”, you asked, confused

“It's my dad's patient coordinator”, he whispered, you looked back to see her, Aemond had told you about her before, but before you could, he grabbed you back, hiding even more

“Yeah, don't look, don't look. Don't look”

“What’s going on?”, you asked him

“No, no. She's obsessed with me!”, he whispered frantically, “Yeah, she's created a website called AllThingsAemond.org”, you chuckled

“The psycho blogger?”, you asked him

“Yes” then he grabbed your hand and turned quickly, “Okay, come on. Dance with me. Watch yourself”, he dragged you to the dance floor and took you in his arms. You were finally able to see her, searching for someone, or something frantically

“I think she's cute”, you mocked. She was tall and lean, redhead, and sharp blue eyes

“Oh, stop it”, grunted Aemond

“I'm serious”, you defended

“Just keep dancing woman”, grunted Aemond, and then, he saw her turn to him so he spun you around making you gasp to turn your back to her

“Hide me. Up. Neck, neck, neck. Up. Back. Side, side. Go. Over”, he signaling, moving frantically to avoid the woman, “Her last blog was a two-page description of my face”, you laughed, truly entertained, you had never seen him like this

“Where, there is much to describe”, you felt his hand get clammy, he was truly nervous

“You see, she doesn't think my nose is too bent or my lips are too thin”, he mocked, you frowned in confusion

“Who said that?”, you asked

“You did. When we met”, he said

“Well, I lied”, you said, looking at him in his eyes

“What?”, he asked back

“I thought you were hot”, you confessed, he looked back at you surprised

“Why didn't you say something?”, he asked incredibly surprised, so much he surprised you too

“Well, you told me I looked like a dog”, you giggled

“That's because I was just trying to sleep with you”, he offered, analyzing your face

“Why haven't you since?”, you asked quietly, he held you tighter against him

“Well, I like having you in my life”, he gave you that smile that makes you think he wasn’t being serious, so you just sighed

“Funny” you mocked

“Hi, Aemond”, you both screamed when you were surprised by the blogger/stalker

“Oh, hi”, greeted your friend grabbing you even more tightly, this time, making you stick to his front

“Did you see the new blog?”, she asked excitedly, she was pretty, you wondered if Aemond ever… slept with her

“Uh, no, we haven't”, he said, you looked back at him at the word he used

“Who's this?”, she turned hostile towards you

“This?”, he asked, looking at you with a smirk on his lips, well, this is my… My girlfriend”, you raised an eyebrow looking back at him, but well, he was you friend so you were going to play along

“Why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone?”, she asked angrily

“Because I don't know you”, he said back, annoyed, but oh you wanted to play both along

“Look, we have a really really open relationship”, you said, relaxed, winking at her, her face lit up again

“Really?”, she asked excitedly. Aemond squeezed your hand

“You know, I wanted to talk to you about that, princess”, he said looking at you with urgency

“Princess...?”, you teased

“I-I-I don't wanna be with anybody but you”, he said quickly, turning to you

“I don't know if I'm really quite ready to make that commitment”, you said dismissively, moving your shoulders upwards, “you know my rules…”, you chuckled, his face in that moment was very comical

“We're a bit of an emotional retard”, he explained, she now looked terribly angry

“I think I need to start a new blog now”, she threatened, and abandoned you

“That is so scary”, you said

“She's psychotic on top of being… Oh, this is not good”, you looked at her go, pushing with a rare strength everyone of her path, it was kind of comical

“Get out of my way!”, you heard her say

“Okay, good, she's gone”, Aemond released you from his grasp, his body what abandoning you

“Perfect. Let's go”

“You want to go already?”, you asked him, he nodded, grabbing your hand and taking you of the ballroom, and out of the building

It had been a quick affair, the sun was setting. and as such, you decided to take a walk through the King’s Landing park

At first you walked in silence, enjoying the beautiful scenery and warmth of the season, but then you remembered you had something to say to Aemond

“Do you remember that ancestral home in Winterfell with those paintings I told you about?”, you asked, he looked back at you and smiled

“It's all I think about”, he mocked

“Stop it, Aemond”, you giggled, pushing him playfully, “I finally got the board to sign off on making them additions to our permanent collection”

“Really?”, he asked, now truly invested

“But they want me to go to Winterfell for an acquisition trip”, you said shortly

“When do you go?”, he asked, alarmed

“Couple of days”, you whispered

“Couple of days? For how long?”, now he was alarmed

“Six weeks”, he opened his eye widely

“That's a long time! more than a month!”, but then when he looked at your face, he softened his, “That's great”, he confessed

“You think?”, you asked, surprised and happy

“Yes, it's a great opportunity for you”, he admired, “You're like the museum maven of the The Keep”

“It's got a good ring to it”, you teased, and then smiled brightly at him, “thank you”, you whispered, looking into his handsome face

“Congratulations”, he said after a long, pleased sigh, “Six Fridays”, he said then

“That is six fridays”, you agreed

“What am I gonna do without you?”, he asked

“Oh, well. I can just imagine”, thinking about all the free time he was going to have to bang women left and right. He looked at you, and then he climbed onto the railway of the bridge just as you were walking above it

“What are you doing!?”, you asked, trying to grab him

“I'm gonna jump!”, he threatened with a chuckled

“No. Gods. Aemond get down!

“Six Fridays, how can I live without you!?”, he asked theatrically, grabbing your hands

“Can you not take anything seriously?”, you laughed

“Yeah, I can”, he defended, just when you thought he was going to take it seriously this time

“Get down”, you demanded, and he grabbed you for stability and jumped back to the bridge, “Let's get you another drink!”, you suggested

“I think I've had too many already”, he whined, “Oh, thanks for coming to the wedding”, he whispered, coiling your arm with his

“It was a ball. I can't wait for number seven”, you giggled

“It's coming up soon, I have a feeling”, he lamented

“And what do you have to say?”, you whispered

“I’m happy you are happy”, he said back

“That’s my boy”

“I’m going to miss you”, he admitted

“Mee too”

. . .

You were staring at the wallpaper of your phone, it was a picture of you and Aemond, your face next to him, both smiling to the camera

You were going to miss him

He was your very best friend in the entire world, and six weeks was a long time, wasn’t it?

“We also ask at this time that you turn off all your electronic devices. Please leave your cell phones turned off for the full duration of the flight”, you heard through the speakers of the plane. With a last look your turned off your phone

You were so excited for this trip!

It was going to be huge for your work, and you couldn’t wait to get to Winterfell, you had never been but they say it's beautiful

Was it weird that you wanted Aemond to be there with you?

Maybe

But he would never go for something like that, you didn’t think

taglist! @snh96 @sagelovesreading @toodlesxcuddles @ammo23 @bananzaa @ttkttt

#misguidedmade #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #cregan stark #cregan x reader #made of honor #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon

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lavellenchanted · 10 months ago

Note

💛 & OTP: I want the whole damn thing

💛 Reunion Kiss/Relief

Jackson's an interminably long board meeting when it happens, trying to make sense of the world's most boring financial presentation, so he doesn't immediately notice the news bulletin popping up on his phone. It's only when they start hearing voices in the corridor and someone runs past the board room window that they all start to realise something's going on, and Jackson suddenly catches sight of the blinking red notification on his phone screen.

"Multi-car pile up," he explains shortly to the board, already on his feet and heading for the door, scrolling down for more information. "I'm guessing we're the nearest hospital - it's gonna be all hands on deck, so if you're qualified to hold a scalpel, get down to the pit."

(Frank, still holding the clicker for his presentation, looks thoroughly relieved that his only qualification is in accountancy.)

Halfway down the corridor, Jackson stops dead. A cold shiver run down his spine and it feels like his stomach has dropped out of him entirely as he sees the location of the accident. That's April's route to work.

Immediately he brings up her number and dials - but it goes straight to voicemail, and he wants to be sick. He shoots her off a quick text and then tries ringing again and again as he heads down to the E.R.

Each time it goes to voicemail.

He tries to tell himself not to panic. The phone lines are probably horrendously busy with people trying to contact emergency services or friends and family to make sure they're alright, and April not answering might just mean she's not looking at her phone. She's probably trying to help, if she is near there.

He tells himself that, but all he can think of is Ben calling him, telling him he was going to have to perform a C-section on April in her kitchen, of April quarantined behind glass, of watching April on the operating table of Grey-Sloan.

(How much luck can one person have?)

"Pick up, damn it!" he shouts as her voicemail message plays again, and a nurse passing jumps in fright.

"Dr Avery? Is everything okay?"

"I'm sorry, I'm just - I'm worried about my wife."

The word slips out automatically, and it's only after he says it that he remembers that, technically, April isn't his wife any more. Because he was stupid enough to divorce her. They're not even dating, despite the fact that they've been living together since they came to Boston, are raising Harriet together.

And yet he never really stopped thinking of her in that way, did he? Even when they were separated, when he was dating other women, when she was marrying someone else, he still thought of her as his.

"Has a woman called April Kepner been brought in? Late thirties, red hair?"

The nurse shakes her head. "I don't think so - not that I've seen. I'll check for you."

She scurries away, but before Jackson can follow or try to ring April again he's stopped and asked for a consult, and then another, and another, and then he gets pulled into a surgery and loses all track of time.

The whole way through he's repeating silently, Please, God. Please let her be okay. Please let me get another chance. I promise I won't waste this one.

His faith still isn't as strong as April's, he doubts it ever will be. Half the time he's not even really sure what it is he believes in. But it's comforting to pray, whether anyone's listening or not.

When he's finally finished and comes back out into the corridor, he immediately pulls his phone out. It's been nearly five hours, and there's still nothing from April. He wants to scream.

And then -

"There's no signs of internal bleeding, but get a CT scan just to be sure."

He spins round, his heart in his throat. April's just coming out of a patient room with an intern; she's in jeans an a tshirt instead of scrubs, dirt and what looks like splashes of blood staining them, her hair scraped back and a band-aid on her forehead, but she's alive and whole and the most beautiful thing Jackson's ever seen.

"April?"

"Jackson, there you are!" Her face lights up as she turns and sees him. Relief crashing over him, he starts running towards her. "I tried to find you but they said you were in surgery. I came with one of the -"

He cuts her off by pulling her into his arms and soundly kissing her. How she got here doesn't really seem to matter any more, just that she is here and uninjured.

She lets out a little sound of shock, and then melts into him the way she always has, her hands coming up to clutch at his scrubs. The feel of her lips is achingly familiar against his, and he rains kisses down on them, one after another, trying to make up for every time he should have kissed her but didn't. And his heart sings as she lifts herself up on tip-toes and kisses him back, meeting each stroke of his mouth with one of her own.

Finally he pulls back, but only enough to rest his forehead against hers.

"You weren't answering your phone," he says quietly.

"I was doing triage at the scene, and then the battery died. I'm sorry."

"You're alright?"

"Totally fine. I promise."

For the first time since he saw the notification on his phone, he starts to relax.

"Dr Avery?" Glancing up, he sees the nurse he was talking to earlier at the end of the corridor. "You found your wife, then?"

Jackson looks down at April, who's smiling knowingly up at him, a warmth in her eyes that gives him the confidence to reply, "Yeah. Yeah, I did."

kiss prompts

#I swear these are getting longer with each prompt lol #japril #jackson avery #april kepner #otp: I want the whole damn thing #my fic

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itwasthereaminuteago · 6 months ago

Text

|| Black eyed & Blue ||

Chapter 1 - Skull & Crossed Wires

Frank Castle x Female Reader/OC

Notes: I'm posting this first short chapter in my Frank Castle and female OC/reader mini series in the hope that it will spur me on to finish it! I have some other chapters written already just need to get them where I want them and write some more. 😊

Warnings: kidnapping, blood, biting, general vampire themes, fluff & smut, frank being protective, Matt makes an appearance.

Please comment and let me know what you enjoy or would like to see as the story develops and I'll see what I can do!

Frank managed to limp his van to the nearest garage before it crapped out entirely. He had cleared it out after his latest 'road trip' back at the safe house. It wouldn't do any good if the mechanics found any of his arsenal…

He left them with the keys and said he'd check back in a couple of days. Leaving a cell number was out of the question too, he still wasn't quite comfortable leaving much of a trace even if he was now 'Pete'.

He walked up to the shop office two days later, hopeful he could throw down a few hundred and get going. A fraught looking gangly guy was having an in-depth discussion on the phone as he entered. He passively waved Frank in the direction of the garage floor, pulling the phone away from his mouth and yelling towards the doorway.

"Blue! Customer!"

Frank gave him a semi-polite nod and headed through the side door where his van was jacked up, a pair of dark blue Converse sticking out from underneath.

"Uh, right. Guess it ain't ready yet." Frank ventured.

"No shit Sherlock." A voice came from below.

"Can see why you got Shaggy on the front desk there, customer service ain't your thing huh?"

The feet peddled their way out from under the van to reveal a woman with her hair tied up out of her face with a blue bandana. She had an oil-smudged face, and chipped sky blue nail polish on her fingers. Her mouth dropped open as she pushed herself up and took in the figure of Frank standing over her.

"Oh fuck- I mean, shit! Damn! Fuck!" She winced. "I'm really sorry mister… thought you were Ray winding me up again. Sorry, I'm trying not to cuss as much but, um…"

Frank couldn't help the sly smile from spreading across his lips.

"Think you're doin' well enough. Don't you worry about it. Maybe uh, you can gimme an idea when she'll be ready?"

She got to her feet, wiping her oily hands on her dirty coveralls, which were also blue.

"Well, that's the thing. I'm still waiting for a part to come. I woulda called you to let you know but, uh, you didn't leave a number so…

"Yeah, don't have a phone." He scratched at the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Kinda hate all that tech shit y'know."

"Wow. Well, okay old man, I'm not sure exactly when it'll arrive, our supplier is vague at the best of times, I really wanna find someone better but…"

Frank couldn't help grumbling a little. He was keen to get back on the road, after all, biker gang ass wasn't gonna kick itself. "Then I guess 'i'll just keep comin' back every day till she's ready."

Blue smiled politely. "Once it's here I'll get it fixed as fast as I can but if you refuse to have a phone like us regular people I guess that's just what you'll have to do. See you tomorrow then?"

Frank nodded. "Yeah. See ya tomorrow."

The next day Frank dropped by the garage late afternoon, he'd had a particularly rough night chasing down some dregs of the Dogs of War that refused to go down easily.

"Jeez, what the heck happened to you?" Blue asked, looking up and seeing the dark bruises around his eyes as she heard him come in. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking? Those are some shiners."

"Walked into the side of the door when I got up during the night to piss. Bein' how I'm an 'old man' an all," Frank deadpanned back.

"No shit. You gotta be more careful, looks a bit like someone belted you right in the kisser!"

Frank shrugs.

"To be honest I wouldn't be too surprised if they had. Don't take this the wrong way but you've kinda got one of those punchable looking faces, mister..?"

"It's uh, Pete." Frank replies with a slight chuckle, only slightly offended. "And is that so?"

She holds out her oily hand for him to shake. "Hi Mister Pete. They call me Blue. And yeah, I mean you're real good looking and all but-" she stopped as Frank shook his head and laughed.

"Jeez, I really gotta stop running my mouth around strangers! I am so sorry…"

Frank holds up both hands giving her a smile, it had been a while since he had laughed as much. "Hey, no worries. Punchable and good lookin'? I'll take it. So, Blue, huh? No need for me to ask why I guess. "

She returns the smile, scuffing the toe of her shoe into the ground shyly. "I just like the colour."

Frank clears his throat. "So uh, there any news on that part yet?"

"Oh! Yeah, um it might be tomorrow but…"

"Might not?" Frank finishes with a slightly tense shrug.

"Yeah, really sorry about this, Pete. I'd even go as far as to offer you a free coffee in apology but our machine's bust, and even if it was working it tastes crap anyway."

"Don't worry about it. Alright well, guess I'll seeya tomorrow again."

Blue gave him a little wave. "Yeah, seeya tomorrow Old Man, hope I've got some good news for you then."

Frank just shakes his head, smiling to himself as he leaves the garage and sets off back home.

The next day, when Frank turns up, Blue's face is bright with the biggest smile, and it only got brighter as she saw what 'Pete' had in his hands.

"Hey!" She greets him animatedly and it makes him feel a little warmer inside.

Frank nods then hands her one of the carryout cups of coffee he has. "Hey, didn't know how you take it but I got some sugar and milk here too if you want, seeing as your machine is broken an all."

Blue beams, her fingers brushing briefly over his as she accepts it. "Oh, thank you so much! And no, that's great, straight up is perfect, so kind of you, thanks Pete!"

Frank shrugs. "S'nothin'."

She takes a hearty sip and then remembers what she was about to say. "Good news by the way, the part arrived this morning! I'm about to get on it right now, shouldn't take too long if you don't mind waiting?"

Frank nods, finding a space to sit nearby. "Yeah, sure, if you don't mind me watching you work."

She disappears under the van. "Actually, gives me the chance to ask what the hell you've been putting this poor van through, you gotta take more care of her if you don't want to run her into the ground."

Frank huffed. "Yeah, just been real busy, y'know, and my work takes me all kinds of places, some uh, rough terrain."

"What kind of business are you in Pete?"

He scratches the stubble under his chin. "Uh, removals, pest control, odd jobs. That kinda stuff."

"A Pete of all trades?" Blue suggests, and Frank has to laugh.

"Yeah," again he feels the rare smile stretch his face as he strokes his stubbled jaw. "Somethin' like that."

It wasn't till later, when he was on the road again rummaging through the glovebox for the map when his hand landed on the tin of sweets. He took them out, curious seeing the note stuck to the lid.

'Something to sweeten you up, old man :)

-Blue'

He chuckles to himself as he opens the tin and takes a candy.

#frank castle x oc/reader series #frank castle fluff #frank castle smut #frank castle x female reader/oc

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astoldbyaja · 3 months ago

Text

Balance - AU JJK - side plot # 5 - Gas station problems

Toji and Bee go to the gas station where Bee sees a man harassing a woman at the gas pump.

The evening air was cool and crisp, something I enjoyed heavily. Toji and I were coming back from a date that had ended way too early. A disagreement was slowly spilling into an argument.

“I’m just saying I felt you were a little too friendly toward the waiter.” Toji said from the passenger side annoyance in his tone.

“So I laughed at a few of his jokes, I’m sorry I thought they were genuinely funny. He had a very quirky personality.” I said as I sat back into my seat enjoying the night hair as it rolled into my window.

“You don’t ever laugh at my jokes.” He said with a pout pushing his cheek into his fist as his arm rest against his window. I glanced at him.

“Toji…you’ve never told a joke before.” I said.

“And I bet if I did, you wouldn’t laugh!” He snapped loudly. My eye brow twitched at the tone of his voice.

“Toji I heavily believe we as adults can communicate calmly even when our emotions run high, but if you ever shout at me like that again you and I will have problems.” I stated with a slight frown. He just grumbled out a sorry before turning to look out the window.

I needed gas and so I turned off into the nearest gas station and parked beside a free pump. I cut the car off and Toji leaned forward.

“I’ll pump it for you.” Toji said moving to dig into his pocket for his wallet, but I held up my hand. He needed to cool down a lot more.

“It’s okay. I got this.” I said dryly before stepping out of the car. I could hear Toji sigh, lowly muttering “shit” as I kept the door open.

As the gas pumped, I gently leaned against my car, my bottom lightly tapping against my front door. A car pulled up on the opposite side of the pump and a petite woman got out. We shot each other pleasant smile before going about our business.

I pulled out my phone to play on it for a minute or two. Then I hear a man on the opposite side of the pump.

“Hey can I talk to you for a minute!” He said. He was standing so close to the woman’s car and I noticed her body shrink a bit.

“What?” She asked.

“You’re a real pretty woman and I just wanted to know if I could get your number?” He asked.

“Oh thank you but I-I’m married.” She said. I was familiar with the tone of her voice, the look in her eyes were clearly showing discomfort.

“Please you’re not married! Come on let’s just exchange numbers.” He pushed. I looked up from my phone again and noticed the woman shooting me a brief look between me and the guy. I couldn’t see him but I could hear he was not taking no for an answer.

I remained near my car, keeping my relaxed and calm composure.

“Look let’s just talk for a bit and let me get to know you.” The stranger offered his voice even giving me chills. I could tell the blonde woman was looking more and more uncomfortable and I was already losing my patience from my brief argument with Toji.

“Hey why don’t you leave her alone! She said she’s not interested no means no!” I said keeping my body pressed against my car as I kept playing on my phone. Now I saw the man step back so he could see who was talking.

He frowned and walked around the front of the woman’s car so he could be on her left and now both of them were in my view but he didn’t pass her side of the pump. He wasn’t a very tall man, but he definitely looked disheveled with a messy face. He pointed at me aggressively.

“Hey why don’t you mind your business, bitch! Or else I’m gonna come over there and-“ his words trailed off as I could feel Toji’s body move as he coolly gets out of the car and turns to face us with a dark look on his face. He shut my door and walked over the front of my car, eyes locked on the man who was already backing up. I only smirked as I looked at Toji’s hulking intimidating body. A wave of relief washed over the woman’s eyes. She knew she was safe.

“You’ll what?” He asked lowly, approaching the man who immediately raised his hands.

“Nah man nothing I don’t want any trouble.” He said, his voice jumping a bit higher now.

“You wanted trouble a few minutes ago. So why don’t you keep that same energy for me?” He asked. The man was babbling now almost tripping over his own feet to get away from my menacing boyfriend. As Toji was closing in on the man he hurried and ran off and I approached the woman with a smile.

“You okay?” I asked and she just nodded as she twisted her gas cap back on and nodded.

“Thank you, thank you so much!” She said before reaching over to hug me. I returned the hug with a brief smile before watching her get in her car and drive away. Toji was just standing there now just looking around in general like a guard dog. I moved to put my own gas pump up and close my gas cap before moving back toward my door.

Toji was walking back over to me, his glare slowly slipping away as his eyes focused on me. I smiled up at him as he leaned in to me, backing me into the car, his large hands resting on the hood of my car. I smiled looking up to him.

“My hero.” I said softly and he smiled down at me gently pressing his forehead into mine. He nuzzled me softly.

“I’m sorry I was being insecure and I’m sorry for yelling at you.” he said eyes showing desperation and guilt. I only nodded.

“It’s alright my darling. I’m sorry I never laughed at any of your jokes.” I said gently teasing him. He chuckled lowly and placed his hands on my cheeks cupping them.

“Next time I piss you off and some dumb ass tries anything with you I’ll beat his ass into the ground until I make you smile again.” He pledged and I grinned.

“Well don’t get your hands too dirty darling. Then I’d have to bail you out of prison.” I replied. He smirked darkly.

“I’d get my hands very dirty if it meant keeping your pretty hands clean.” He said. I smiled more before leaning up to devour his lips.

——————-

Authors Notes

Next side plot # 6 - Toji’s at the race tracks doing his gambling thing when he sees his girlfriend at the track with another man! So he decides to call her and ask her where she’s at?? Smutty chapter

Side plot # 7- “You’re not my mom!”

#jjk toji #blackfemoc #black female oc #tojixblackfemaleoc #jujutsu kaisen toji #JJK #Toji Fushiguro x blackfemaleOC

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barleyo · 1 year ago

Note

do you take requests if so for the love of god do more boomhauer please it was so damn hot <3 love your work btw

Straight Tequila Night.

Jeff Boomhauer X Fem! Reader (smut)

A/N: Thank you so much for your request, and yes, requests are always open! Sorry for the excruciatingly long wait, sweetheart. I'm pretty worthless when it comes to getting requests done in a timely manner, sorry!! This is heavily based off of John Anderson's Straight Tequila Night, so I suggest listening to it while you read. Whoever can find the most references to the song in the fic wins, haha!

Wordcount: 3.4K

Tags: P*rn with plot, p in v, oral (f receiving), sex with a semi-stranger, smut in the later half of the story

He jetted down the highway, looking for any sign or signal that pointed toward a bar. He never liked traveling outside of Arlen for anything, but when his friends were done drinking for the night and his regular pub was closed, he didn’t mind driving a few miles out of town to get a drink and mingle.

Though Boomhauer was going farther than he originally thought he would need to, he refused to turn around and give up. Instead, he kept on driving down the sparingly lit road. The road there was bumpy, he noticed. Old and cracked pavement, unlike Arlen’s smooth, blacktop roads. He was only twenty or so minutes out of town and he could tell the differences between the two places by how often his car would jump on a jagged crack or pothole too deep to be safe.

Finally, he pulled into the parking lot of a tiny place that did not register as a bar in his mind until a neon sign that read “happy hour, every hour” came into view. The lot was empty besides a car or two in the employee’s spots and a few beat up sedans that were scattered. Boomhauer parked in a spot nearest the door and got out, grabbed his jacket he left in the passenger seat, and shrugged it on. Hands in his coat pockets, he walked in.

For however few cars were in the lot, it looked like even fewer people were even in the place. He surveyed the empty tables and thought to turn right back around to keep looking when a voice called out to him.

“Welcome in,” a woman said.

His head snapped over to the source, finding her behind the bar. He had not noticed her while he was making his earlier assessment of the place. He offered a quick smile in an attempt to combat his previous indirect rudeness and sat at her bar top. Boomhauer took note of the woman’s age: a bit too old to just be working at a place like this, she was likely the owner.

“Never seen you before, you new here?” She leaned over the countertop inquisitively, leaving enough room between the two of them for comfort. “Or just passing through town?”

“Just passing through, ma’am,” he said.

“Ma’am? Gosh, polite, aren’t you? You can call me Mary, none of all that ‘ma’am’ stuff. Your name, if you don’t mind me askin’?”

“Jeff Boomhauer. Friends call me Boomhauer.”

“Alright then, Boomhauer, what’re you havin’ here on this fantastic night?” What Mary lacked in numbers, she made up for in energy and entertainment for the guests she did have. The emptiness of the bar did not seem to bother her.

“Alamo, if you’ve got it.”

“Alamo? Oh, honey, you’re from Arlen aren’t you?” she asked, biting back a laugh when he nodded. “Y’all really love your Alamo, huh? Nobody here drinks it. Thought about replacing it on tap to save my money, glad you’re here to drink it.” Mary bent down, disappearing under the bar to grab the beer mug. “Sixteen ounces okay?” She pulled the tap and filled the cup.

“Mhm, that’s fine by me,” he grabbed the mug and took a swig from it, and looked to his side. He saw a wine glass sitting next to him on a napkin. Before he could ask about it, someone walked over.

“Someone else here, Mary?”

“Yup, (Y/N),” Mary was already turned to the girl’s direction, hearing the click of her heels before hearing her voice, “Out-of-towner from Arlen.”

(Y/N) took her seat next to Boomhauer and faced him. “It’s ‘bout time we see someone who isn’t a regular,” she laughed, holding her hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

Shaking her hand, he replied, “You too, Miss (Y/N).”

“Oh, so polite,” she said. “Didn’t know I was a ‘Miss’ kind of girl!”

“That’s what I was saying too! Jeff Boomhauer, are all Arlen men like this? Because if so, I might need to get me one,” Mary joked while she wiped down the other end of the bar, scrubbing at a stubborn stain.

Boomhauer said nothing in return and instead sipped at his mug quietly, listening in on Mary and (Y/N)’s chat. He allowed himself to peer at her from the corner of his eyes every so often. She was an exceptionally pretty thing: big smile, cute voice, and even cuter laugh. He was normally a talkative man, but feeling so enthralled and out of place made him want to listen especially closely to the two women.

“So, uh,” he cleared his throat, “you come here often?” He internally cringed at his own cliche, but (Y/N) seemed not to mind.

“I’m Mary’s favorite regular, if that gives you any clue.” She looked at him, a sweet smile covering her face.

“Don’t let her fool you, she’s still a pain in my rear,” Mary interrupted absentmindedly.

“See, that’s real love right there,” (Y/N) grabbed Boomhauer’s arm as she chuckled to herself, and let go once she was done. “Hey, do me a favor, would you?”

“Yeah?”

“Take these,” she dug in her purse and pulled out a small handful of quarters. “Put on, uh, K-13 on that ol’ jukebox in that corner.”

“You got it,” he said. He stood up and stepped over to the jukebox, inserting the coins. He hovered his fingers over the number keys of the jukebox’s keyboard and punched in the numbers that she told him to. “I didn’t even know these things were still used,” he said. “Ain’t seen one since I was a kid.”

“I know, right? Used to be my favorite thing: headin’ to a diner with my daddy, popping on whatever song I could with the nickels and dimes he found for me in his car’s cup holders.”

Boomhauer sat back down and watched (Y/N)’s face contort into a fond smile as she went over her memories.

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” He did not try to stop his own smile from forming at her words.

“Well,” she started, “you in town for long?”

“Nah, just tonight. Came here when my dang ol’ favorite place was right n’ closed up. Just trying somethin’ new.”

“Ah, well, cheers to that then!” She held her glass up and clinked it against his. She drank from it again, finishing out the rest of her white wine. “You know, we almost never get people just blowing by here,” she traced the rim of the glass, “the place is just too boring for people, I guess. Empty town and all that.”

“I like it.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t mind it here, man. Nice n’ quiet, wouldn’t say it’s better’n Arlen, but I don’t mind it here,” Boomhauer said, watching (Y/N)’s face warm up from the alcohol, assuming the same was happening to his own face.

“Oh, Boomhauer, don’t say that or else I’ll have to convince you to move here! We could use some more cuties like you here, it’d make it worth hanging around this town.”

“Maybe someday, Miss (Y/N), maybe someday,” he chuckled at her dramatics, but on the inside he felt a sharp spark. She was joking, of course, but the hint of truth behind it was all Boomhauer could hear. He couldn’t possibly move to a new town for a woman he’d known for only the lesser half of an hour, but God, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel tempting every time he heard her laugh.

She smirked at him and ushered him to stand up and follow her. She tossed a few bills onto the countertop on both her side and Boomhauer’s, pushing his hand down as he reached into his pocket to pay. “Lightin’ up and headin’ out, Mary,” she called from behind her shoulder.

“Long as you don’t do it in here, hon,” Mary called back. “See you.” She had taken to looking through a magazine while the ‘couple’ were chatting with each other and was still engrossed with what she was reading.

(Y/N) grabbed Boomhauer’s hand and pulled him out the door, letting go of his hand and sitting on the curb just outside the bar. She patted the spot beside her. He sat down with her and watched her take a box of cigarettes out of her purse.

“You smoke?” she asked.

“Mhm, yeah.” He did not smoke. He may have lit a cig once or twice in high school, but never as an adult, and why he told her he did, he did not know.

“Shit,” (Y/N) groaned, pulling her final cigarette out of its lonely box. “One left.” She lit it and took a drag, exhaling a dark cloud and tapping the ash off of the end. “Hm,” she grunted as she held the stick out to Boomhauer.

He lifted his eyebrows in surprise but took it anyway. He saw the red ring of (Y/N)’s lipstick around the filter of the cigarette and smiled, taking a puff of his own. An unfamiliar heaviness grew in his lungs and he fought back a cough, handing it back to her.

“You know,” she took another drag before continuing, “I’m glad you came on in tonight. It’s always just me n’ a few random regulars. Every damn night, never a newbie or anyone interestin’.” She sighed and leaned her head onto Boomhauer’s shoulder.

He tensed up a first, but calmed down once he felt her start to hum gently.

“There’s something about this town I love,” she puffed from the cig and coughed. “The community, the familiar faces. Everyone knows each other, and there’s charm to that.”

Boomhauer nodded, the smoke swirling around him as (Y/N) exhaled. “Yeah, it’s true. Arlen’s like that too, bit bigger though. Everybody knows everybody. Can’t go any-dang-where without bumpin’ into someone you know.”

“Right,” she replied, a bittersweet smile gracing her lips. “But sometimes, it’s nice to step outta your bubble, really get out there.”

He thought for a moment, contemplating her words. It had been a long time since he ventured outside of his comfort zone, outside of his town. Sitting there with (Y/N) on that quiet curb, he couldn’t help but feel a strange comfort. Maybe there was more to life than the familiar routine he had grown accustomed to.

“You might be onto somethin’ there,” he finally said. “Life’s too short to stay in one place, a man’s gotta be free, man. Maybe it’s time I start takin’ some risks, tryin’ new things.”

(Y/N) grinned, a playful glint in her eyes. “I like the sound of that, Boomhauer. A man with a sense of adventure is very sexy.”

They kept speaking to each other, inching closer throughout the night.The initial awkwardness between them melted away, replaced by a growing connection and a shared sense of curiosity.

Eventually, the cigarette burned out.

“Can’t believe how fast time flew by,” Boomhauer said, a tinge of regret in his voice. “I gotta get goin’.”

“Don’t know if I’m being forward, but am I gonna see you around these parts again, Mr. Boomhauer?” she asked with a laugh, copying his formality from the beginning of the night.

He caught on. “Well, Miss (Y/N), depends on if you’re good and sure you wanna see me again.”

“Hm, I think I’d like to. Could get used to sitting by a handsome not-stranger like yourself every Friday night. Mary likes ya’ too.” She angled her head up to make eye contact with him. “I like you more, though.” She leaned in and pressed her red-stained lips against his chapped ones.

He placed his hand on her face and tilted her into the kiss, savoring the feeling. Stroking her cheek with his thumb, he ran his tongue over her bottom lip, slowly pushing into her mouth. She moaned as he explored her mouth, intertwining his tongue with hers briefly before breaking away.

They both panted as they caught their breath, still holding eye contact.

“I should get going,” (Y/N) sighed, standing up.

“Right, uh, yeah, man, me too.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and watched her turn to walk away. “You need me to walk you to your car?”

“No, hon, I’m okay. Just–” she looked back at him, “just make sure to come here again real soon, yeah? Don’t be a stranger, Boomhauer.” She walked to her car, heels clicking. She got into the car and drove off, rolling down her window to flash a final smile at him.

Boomhauer had gone back to that small, desolate bar every week on Fridays for a long time. He did not see (Y/N) there for a while. He was upset, thinking that she had forgotten about their little promise so quickly, but he still showed up. Every Friday, sometimes Saturdays. He had soon started to devote less and less of his time to visiting Mary’s pub in search of her.

Today, he decided, would be one of his final trips. He was still hopeful, of course, but he was not completely delusional and knew when enough was enough.

He walked in, head down. Not looking up, he sat down at his regular seat, right by the middle of the bar top.

“Hey, Mary,” he groaned, finally looking up.

“Hey, not-stranger.” (Y/N) smiled at him while picking up her glass.

Boomhauer looked up, seeing her face again. He felt relief, anger, and happiness all at the same time. “(Y/N)? (Y/N), where have you been? I– I’ve been comin’ here wantin’ to see you every week.”

“I know, I know, Mary’s grilled me about it plenty, and I’m sorry.” She plopped down next to him in the chair, facing him with a grimace on her face. “I don’t even know what happened. I was getting dressed to come see you on that Friday and I just couldn’t leave, same with all the others.” She grabbed her shot glass. It was filled to the brim with tequila, and it probably was not the first or only one she had that night.

“What do you mean?”

“Damn it, I don’t know, Jeff,” she sighed and shot the drink back, wincing at the burning feeling it left in her throat. “You’re just so nice, you were so sweet, and you listened to me when I was talking the whole time. You let me joke and be silly and made me feel like you felt like I did, even if it was a lil’ soon.”

“I do feel the same, (Y/N), I feel it too, but if you felt this way, why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Wasn’t that simple, I felt so scared and I couldn’t take the chance of you not feeling the same. You say you do, but even telling you now makes me so nervous,” she covered her face with her hands, and her voice was a bit muffled as she ranted. Her hands felt clammy with her sweat and tears.

Boomhauer gently wedged his hand between her face and her palm, tilting her head to angle her eyes at his. “Darlin’, c’mon now, don’t cry. I get it, you don’t have to explain anymore.” He got up and tapped her arm. “You’re too drunk to drive, let me take you home, yeah?”

(Y/N) nodded, thick tears still dripping down her cheeks.

They both exited the bar, (Y/N) clinging onto Boomhauer’s arm, snuggling into it against the cool night air. They got in Boomhauer’s car and (Y/N) typed her address into his phone’s GPS system.

They drove in near silence, the only sound being a sniffle of huff from (Y/N)’s side of the car. He soon pulled into her driveway. Getting out, he walked to her side and opened her door, lifting her to her weak, tired legs and walked her to the door.

“I guess I’ll see you whenever I can see you–?”

He was interrupted by (Y/N) pulling him into a kiss. It was not like their first one, this one was rushed and full of need and desire. She pulled him back into the house, still locked in the kiss, and slammed her door shut. She led him to the bedroom and fell back on her bed.

“This okay?” He asked, laying on top of her.

“Mhm, yes. Please, g’head n’ touch me.”

That was all he needed to hear. He pushed her head to the side and placed his lips on her neck. He sucked the soft skin until a tender, dark bruise formed on it. Moving his head up, he littered the hickies closer to her jaw.

Pulling away with a pop, he examined the marks. They were shiny with his spit.

“They don’t hurt, do they?” He traced over the wet marks with his thumb, pressing onto them gently.

(Y/N) craned her neck into his touch, pushing into it further. “It does, but I like it. Don’t need’a worry ‘bout me.”

“Hm.”

Boomhauer ducked his head down and created a trail of kisses, each dipping lower than the last until his lips were situated at her chest, just at the divot of her shirt. He quickly slid his finger through the buttons of her shirt, unbuttoning them and helping her shrug the shirt off.

Goosebumps littered her skin when the cold air hit her body, soon being soothed by the warm kisses he placed over her abdomen. She gasped at the feeling. Boomhauer made his way lower, slipping her skirt and panties down.

“Here,” he gripped onto her thighs and held them apart, “hold still for me.”

He placed his head fully between her legs, licking thick stripes over her cunt. From her entrance to her clit, he traced a path, licking up her wetness and replacing it with his spit.

“God, ‘s too much,” she whined.

“Ain’t even started yet, just wait,” Boomhauer said, voice muffled while he slurped and sucked on her sensitive, swollen bud.

Licking at her slit, he pushed into her, dipping his tongue in-and-out. He rolled his tongue deeper, nose bumping against her clit. Little shocks of pleasure coursed through (Y/N), back arching with each pass over her clit.

Running her hands through his blond hair, she took purchase over the back of his head, grinding her pussy up into his mouth.

“Ah– almost, almost there, keep–”

He pulled off, a wide grin plastered over his slick, reddened face. He wiped his face with his forearm.

“Turn over, baby,” Boomhauer grabbed her waist and flipped her over, face pushed into the mattress. “You ready?” He lined himself up at her entrance, slowly edging the tip in.

“Mhmph.”

His thrusts were slow and agonizing, but not teasing. He wanted this just as bad as she did, no: worse. He felt the velvet ribbing of her cunt suck him in with each thrust, drawing him in and constricting around his cock.

“Tight lil’ thing,” he said, gritting his teeth. “Can’t keep squeezin’ like that, darlin’, makin’ me wanna cum early.”

“Oh, sorry,” she whined slightly, arching her hips further up as if he were trying to guide his cock to her deep spot. “There,” her mouth fell open with a cry, “ooh, right there, right there!”

“Yeah? Yeah, I-I got you..”

Boomhauer tried to keep his hips directly flushed to her back, holding the position she put herself in under him. He turned his full, fast strokes into a rough and meaningful rutting, like he was trying to bury his dick into her G-spot.

“Fuck, fuck.” She panted deeply, pathetically, knowing she was close. A final stroke threw her over the edge into her ecstasy, from a final, sweet knock onto her cervix’s tip.

He saw her shimmery nails grip the sheets tightly, watching as her knuckles practically turned white. “Aw, sweet– shit, sweetheart,” he cooed into her ear, fumbling over his words a bit.

He got lost in his own pleasure, hardly being able to pull out. He managed to in time, however, and fisted his cock. After giving the base a few quick strokes, he groaned seeing his cum spurt out on her bare lower back.

(Y/N) hummed and looked back at him, sleepiness hanging over her eyes.

“Boom,” she said after she heard his breathing steady, “will y’stay with me tonight? Please?”

“I’ll stay longer’n that, girl.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, looking over to him as he took a spot underneath the covers with her.

“Didn’t you notice the suitcases in the backseat of m’car?

#barleyxnighteye #smutfic #fanfiction #smutty smut smut #smut #king of the hill #king of the hill x reader #x reader #x fem reader #jeff boomhauer #boomhauer x reader #boomhauer #adult swim #niche fandom

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rudnitskaia · 7 months ago

Note

Sorry i got so excited to ask questions i forgot to specify but maybe a drabble for 3, 6 and 19. And a drawing for 18. But if you feel specifically inspirred to do something different im not complaining. Love these goobers so any kind of romaunce content is a win for me😁

Hey-hey, Edd! 💖 Tysm for the ask, I'll cover all the numbers, I promise! ✨😭✨ These are very interesting topics for me, so count it as part 1/?. :3 I'll tag your main and your new @acesandocs acc so you won't miss it. <3

I hope you meant numbers from that list, but if you meant the other - DM me, please.

I'll start with the number 19, "Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?"

And I came up with two ideas, so I post the two-parts answer in a row. Because I headcanon that it's Freckle who was the first one to suspect his cousin develops feelings for a certain Italian waitress, but technically the one who got the confirmed information about Rocky's and Mau's relationship would've been Augusto. So I did both.

First story will be from the Freckle's side. I once started to do a comic from it, but gave it up. So now behold this ancient scenario in a ficlet. :D

The Right Moment

“And what a pizza they have!”

“Pizza?”

“Yeah, sugary pizza!”

“Is this... thing really worth it?” Calvin sighed, deciding not to clarify what that ridiculous phrase meant.

“Oh, true ambrosia. You'll be flabbergasted!” Rocky exclaimed, keeping up his pace. Calvin felt that he had been trying to catch up with his cousin through the streets of St. Louis for about an hour, and he feared that he was going to spend just as long on the heat as he already had, but fortunately Rocky finally turned around the corner and confidently swung open the blue door of the little eatery. Calvin followed him inside and found Rocky waiting at the counter, but finding no one at it, he sat down at the table that was nearest to the entrance, placed his fedora against the wall, and drummed his fingers impatiently on the countertop. Calvin sat down across the table and studied the details of the unassuming establishment. Since when had Rocky developed such a fondness for Italian cuisine…?

“Why, if it isn't Mister Rickaby himself!” A lively woman's voice with a quavering “r” sounded over Calvin's ear.

“Miss Maura,” Rocky grinned. “How else could it be? Your cozy place is an oasis that shelters travelers from the scorching sun. I've even rescued one suffering man along the way. Working for the good of your enterprise, so to speak. Meet my cousin, Freckle.”

“Freckle?”

“Calvin. McMurray,” he habitually corrected Rocky, and finally turned around, meeting his gaze with the tall, young Italian woman. Calvin stared at her face and lean figure, but by the time he realized he was doing it for too long, thankfully, she was already looking at Rocky.

“We'll have two glasses of lemonade, please, your incomparable sugary pizza…”

“And a sandwich, please. Any kind. Not sweet,” Calvin added hastily.

“Not sweet? Are you sure he's your cousin, Rocky?”

“Oh, yeah, he is. He just doesn't realize what he's missing,” he waved it away. “You know for yourself that pizza's an undoughbtfully subtle thing.”

Mau laughed out loud.

“Oh, come on. I'm the one who knows batter that it’s just your oven self that works on a different fuel.”

“Hey!” Rocky chuckled with feigned indignation, but Maura was already heading past the tables toward the kitchen. Calvin stayed silent as he watched Rocky's eyes on the girl. He didn't say a word when Rocky again engaged the waitress in banter when she returned with the order. He preferred not to evaluate the flavor of the monstrous slice that was aptly called ‘sugary pizza’, but the sandwich and lemonade were very good indeed. Calvin kept his mouth shut even when Rocky, leaning against the counter, took a few good minutes to say goodbye to Mau. Only on their way back to the Little Daisy Café he surrendered to his curiosity.

“So… about that ‘sugary pizza’.”

“What, do you regret not trying it after all? I knew it! I knew you'd bite your head off. Well, I'll ask Miss Maura make more next time.”

“Next time, yeah. How long have you been visiting this place?”

Rocky pondered.

“A month? Or about two… something like that.”

“Only for sugary pizza?”

“No, why, they have good coffee, lemonade, and…” Rocky began to list without a backward thought, but then suddenly frowned. “Wait, what are you implying?”

“Nothing,” Calvin looked away and smiled involuntarily. Rocky squinted.

“Don’t tap dance with me, sneaky gingerbread. I can see right through you.”

“Well… uh. Neither of us are blind. Miss Maura probably… it seems she likes you.”

Shaking his head, Rocky ran a hand through his hair in relief.

“Oh, Freckle. You don't understand anything. Miss Maura… she's always like that. With everyone. Gives away words like hot cakes. Mine may be puncakes, but they aren’t served with any ‘additional syrup’.”

Calvin stared at the passing cars for a while, thinking if he should try to change his cousin's mind. But suddenly Rocky cautiously asked:

“…you really think?”

Calvin shrugged. Was he sure of what he was talking about? It was hard to tell. But what he'd seen in the eatery certainly… brought up some thoughts.

“Why don't you ask her out, since you two have been in touch for so long?”

“It's not that simple, Freckle,” Rocky sighed and gestured vigorously. “You have to be thorough, have to pick the right moment. Besides, have you seen her grumpy old man? A glancekiller. It's like rescuing a princess from a dragon's lair. And you're suggesting I just walk up and say…” he stopped in the middle of the street in a deep bow with his hands widely outstretched to the sides, “…do me a favor, my fair maid, go with me on a promenade!”

Suddenly Rocky felt how something was lowered on his left hand. He turned his head in puzzlement and found his own fedora hanging there. But it wasn't that that surprised him, it was… Maura. She was looking at him and Freckle with amusement, and Rocky had no idea where to get away from that look. And he wanted to get away. Wanted it desperately. Preferably somewhere under the ground. But before he could say anything, Mau nonchalantly stated:

“Well, if you promise to be a faithful knight, toss a pebble into my window at night.”

Calvin, who was watching all this, began to quietly laugh. Maura waved to him with a mockingly innocent smile.

“Goodbye, Mister McMurray, it was nice to meet you,” and, without waiting for Rocky's reply, she headed back toward the eatery.

Calvin's laughter grew louder the longer he stared at Rocky's confused face. It was simply impossible to hold back. Calvin felt like he was choking, but he didn't stop chuckling even when Rocky elbowed him in the side and exclaimed:

“Stop cackling, you!”

Rocky took a deep breath, covered his face with the fedora and let out a muffled yell. As Calvin continued to laugh, he patted his cousin on the back a few times, either sympathetically or encouragingly; it was also hard to tell.

Though one thing was definitely undoubtful: now Calvin had not a single regret about that visit to Italian eatery. At all.

#tysm for the ask dude <333 #it gave me so much fuel *w*#acesandocs #coffeintheface #missedditart #heldig writings #lackadaisy #romaunce #maura venza oc #rocky rickaby #lackadaisy oc #lackadaisy ocs #lackadaisyoc #lackadaisyocs #maura venza #lackadaisy rocky #rocky lackadaisy #lackadaisy fanfiction

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robotstrategy · 9 months ago

Text

Recalled • Part 5 • 32 - Mr. Delgado

Previous • Series Masterlist • Part 5 Masterlist • Next

It takes four hours from Indianapolis to Akron. If he plans accordingly he can manage an overnight pick-up from Akron and have the kids delivered to a warehouse by morning, making it back in time to wish his kids a good day at school.

He sits on his six-year-old’s bed, his son floats in and out of consciousness.

“You’ll be back in the morning right papá?”

“Of course.”

Danilo plants a kiss on his son’s forehead before weaving in and out toys on the ground to get to the door.

“Buenas noches, Rolando.”

“Buenas noches papá.”

Danilo closes his son’s bedroom door, he looks over to his girlfriend on the couch, she’s holding their daughter.

“How is she doing?”

“No new words yet,” she looks down at the toddler. “She’s been knocked out for half the day, I hope she doesn’t wake me up in the middle of the night.”

“Ha, ha, I’ll pray for you Cindy.”

Cindy looks up at Danilo, disappointed.

“Are they sure they need the boxes shipped in the middle of the night?”

“They’re on crunch time, they were supposed to get the boxes shipped today, I suppose I’m their last ditch effort.”

“You’re always their last ditch effort!” She snaps. “You should go work for another company at this point, ‘cause they can’t seem to get their shit together.”

Danilo nods, “I’ve lived here for ten years and yet people will still point out that I’m an immigrant.”

“Is that why other places won’t hire you?” Cindy asks.

“Unfortunately yes.” He fibs.

Cindy sighs, she sets down their daughter and goes to grab something from the pantry. She chucks a few protein bars at him. “At least take something for the road.”

Danilo kisses his girlfriend goodbye and heads out, the roaring of the engine can be heard as he drives away.

There’s something about the way that Cindy acts that tells him he can’t be honest with her about what he does these nights. He doesn’t think she’d stay quiet about him working for the A.D.R. or maybe she wouldn’t consider it a real job. Then again she knows how much he gets paid, the A.D.R. will pay a crap ton to anyone willing to risk their lives transporting unwinds from safehouse to safehouse, to warehouse. Danilo pulls into a public parking lot, he looks to his glove box, pulling out a Manila folder. Opening it, there’s the key to a failed delivery service’s delivery truck that’s parked across from him. Danilo exits his car and moves around to the old delivery truck, getting into the truck there’s a map for A.D.R. workers, showing off all the safe house locations and the nearest airplane warehouses. Danilo pulls out of the parking lot, driving into the sunset.

When he lived in Spain with his family, you’d hear about unwinds and clappers every other day. Some clappers even went door to door, playing flip a coin with their next victim. He thought that going to America, the land of the free, there would be less news about unwinding and such. He was wrong, it’s as if he had stepped on unwind’s doorstep, sure, they were more secretive about it, but the number of Juvey cruisers and tithe limos that go by each day was countless.

One day he had complained about it in a coffee shop to an old man, the old man discreetly passed him a business card, and he’s been working for the A.D.R. ever since.

More and more have the A.D.R. been branching out towards new rebellious communities, but as they win some, they lose some as well. From people being too scared to arrests made, to deaths at the hands of parts pirates, the A.D.R. loses people. And doesn’t account for if Proactive Citizenry hasn’t already put moles in their system.

It’s around midnight when he reaches Akron, he arrives at an antique shop with older women peeking outside. Danilo hops out of the truck with his I.D. in hand, and the woman takes his I.D., inspecting it.

“Danilo Delgado, I believe we’ve met before.”

“You are Sonia, yes?”

The woman nods. “We recognize each other, that’s bad.”

“I know,” Danilo looks at the truck. “They’ve been giving me this truck a lot lately, I hope this is the last time I’ll use it for a while.”

“I hope so too.”

Sonia walks back inside as Danilo opens the back of the truck, according to the message he’ll be picking up three teens tonight. Hearing the opening of the shop doors Danilo looks around to see three teenagers at the door. Danilo quickly ushers them into the back of the truck before closing it up, he sets up a GPS route to the Athens warehouse before quickly getting out of Akron.

When he gets onto the highway it’s mostly quiet, nothing but the occasional person getting home from overtime, a taxi carrying a party of drunk people, and a truck driver doing what Danilo’s supposed job is.

It gets lonely at night, although sometimes he’ll hear the children talking in the back, but then he has to start turning on the radio to muffle them out. In the end, he’s left with nothing but empty English pop songs about sex or cheating on a lover. He’s pretty sure he’s heard Roland singing this song once, and it just reminds him of all the innocence a child is supposed to have. Singing a song about sex without even knowing it, just enjoying the beat of the song. But these kids, the unwinds, have to grow up so fast after learning about what could happen to them.

Thinking about his children again, it’s not even easy at home, ever since that babysitter shook Lilian she’s been developmentally stunted. Danilo is worried that the surgery didn’t work and that she’ll die soon, the only thing that gives him hope is that recently she’s started saying words. Her first word was "shark" because Roland wouldn’t stop saying it to her, Danilo is certain Roland thinks Lilian is stupid, and that he doesn’t understand she has a brain injury.

Danilo can see the off-ramp heading to the warehouse in the distance, it’s 2:30 in the morning and somehow the roads have become busier. There’s a car in front of him, to the side of him, and behind him. Danilo immediately assumes the worst, that these are part pirates. Catching a closer glimpse of them he takes a breath of relief, it’s just young drivers. Danilo does his rounds of mirror checking, road checking, and speedometer checking, his eyes stop on the speedometer, realizing how slow he’s going. Looking back to the road, he’s keeping up with the other cars, they’re the ones going slow. Suddenly they start switching places around the truck, Danilo gets a glimpse of one of the passengers opening the back window and throwing up. It becomes very apparent what kind of situation Danilo is in, there’s a bunch of drunk people playing leapfrog with his truck. Danilo tries keeping up with the cars, but with their speed constantly changing Danilo can only hope to make his exit. The car behind him starts speeding up again, it drifts to the lane beside him, but as it restarts the cycle of going to the front, it starts drifting back into the original lane. Danilo hears the metal of the truck and the car banging off of each other, his vehicle is slowly being pushed off the road, and there’s a shirl scream coming from one of the unwinds in the back. The car keeps bumping into the truck and once the car meets driver to driver with the truck it does a hard drift and sends the truck over the island and into the ditch.

The truck slams into the ground and somehow flips right side up. Danilo races out of the truck looking all around the vehicle before opening the back door, it’s not a pretty sight.

“¡Ay dios mío!”

Somehow one of them stayed completely intact while another has half their face bleeding, and the third is crippled.

Danilo smells smoke in the air, he looks around to the broken island, the car that was smashing into him is on fire, no doubt the police will be here soon. He thinks fast on his feet, he grabs the first-aid kit and the map to the A.D.R. locations and comes back around to the teens.

“You there!” He points to the stable-bodied one. “You will carry him!” He orders, referring to the crippled kid. “And you,” He points to the girl “Here.” He hands her the first-aid kit and the map.

“Do you see that off-route?” He points to the road in front of them. “You will follow that and it will take you to the airplane warehouse, you will be safe there. I know prayer means nothing to you, so I hope you make it there safely, now go!”

The teenagers quickly get themselves together and run like the wind, as if almost trying to escape the realization of such a traumatic event. Danilo goes back to the truck and pulls out the GPS, crushing it under his shoe in the grass. If he gets caught by the police tonight, he’s not getting caught so easily. Danilo climbs out of the ditch back onto the road, and across from the burning car is one lone man sitting against the island.

“It’s, it’s okay I already called the police.” He slurred.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I don’t think they are.” He points to the car, Danilo looks at it and immediately looks away, seeing the face of a woman melted against the back window.

“Are you okay though? You were drifting pretty badly.”

Danilo rolls his eyes, he wouldn’t have been “drifting” if another vehicle wasn’t continuously slamming into his.

“I am fine.”

Sooner or later they both see the flashing blue and red lights of two police cruisers and an ambulance speeding down the highway, they slow down and park once coming to the crime scene. The ambulance operators immediately go to the car, but switch to being concerned about the sitting man once they realize that they can't do anything for the corpses in there.

“Who called?” One of the officers asks.

“It was him.” Danilo points to the man, now in the ambulance.

“Right, I guess we’ll be getting your side of the story first.”

Danilo takes a deep breath. In his mind, there is a 99% chance that he’ll be going to jail tonight, and that’s okay. If the police are here, they won’t find the kids that ran off, the kids will make it to the warehouse safely, and Danilo will have done his job.

“My name is Danilo Delgado, I was driving the delivery truck that is now in the ditch. The car over there was filled with drunk people, and it kept slamming into my truck until it sent it me over the island. There were also two other cars filled with people, but I think they didn’t notice the accident behind them.”

One of the officers goes down to take a look at the truck.

“Do you believe all cars had drunk drivers?”

“I believe so.”

“Was there any breakable merchandise in the truck?”

“No, I was coming back to get a new shipment of items.”

“Okay, may I see an ID?”

Danilo hands him over his driver's license, and as soon as he does the officer inspecting his truck comes back up, pointing a gun at Danilo. Danilo puts his hands in the air and his knees to the ground, there’s no point in resisting.

“What’s wrong?” The officer holding his ID asks.

“I’ve seen that truck before, it belongs to the A.D.R.”

The loud sound of the jail bars closing can be heard, Danilo was caught red-handed for something so stupid, something that could have been avoided if the A.D.R. just gave him a different vehicle. The same cop who remembered the vehicle gets close to the bars.

“We did a bit of research into you, Mr. Delgado, y’know if you had stopped taking away unwinds maybe one day you could’ve gotten your daughter’s brain fixed with the help of them.”

Danilo lifts his head to shoot him a death stare before putting it back down.

“So, you were part of the A.D.R.?”

Danilo looks at the inmate beside him, he nods.

“Me too.” The inmate holds out his hand. “Eric.”

“Danilo.” He shakes his hand.

“How’d you get caught?”

“They had the same vehicle out too frequently, you?”

“Some little shit opened the back door,” Eric looks down. “I shouldn’t call them that, all five of those kids probably got unwound.”

“I was lucky enough that we were close yet far enough away from a warehouse. I was able to get them away before the police arrived.”

Eric pats Danilo on the back. “Godspeed Danilo, Godspeed.”

Danilo looks around in the dark as it’s three in the morning and everyone else is asleep. “They never told me how long I will stay here.”

“Oh, harbouring unwinds, yeah that’s a lifetime offence.”

Danilo’s eyes go wide. “I’ll be here forever?”

“Well, if you're lucky, you could get moved to a prison closer to your home, but yeah, pretty much.”

It then hits him how bad this is, his girlfriend will have to hear about what crime they charged him for. She’ll know that he was lying to her, what will she think of him then? He’ll never get to marry her, he’ll never get to see Roland grow up. He won’t get to dance with Lilian on her Quinceañera, if she’ll even live that long. Considering they’re so young, Danilo worries that his little Rolando and Liliana won’t remember him at all. Danilo spends the night silently crying, hoping that somehow he’ll be out of here sooner or later.

Thirteen years, Thirteen years, that’s how long he’s been in the prison system, halfway through his stay he was able to move back into Indianapolis, but that’s not really changing anything. Somehow he’s been able to escape the process of shilling, how? he’s not sure.

During breakfast a few mechanics enter the doors to the shilling room, Danilo and a few others watch as they start pulling off parts from this giant robotic machine.

“What the hell is that?” One of the inmates asks.

“It’s the shilling machine, the whole process is automated.” Another one answers.

“But why are they taking it out?”

“Didn’t you hear? Unwinding became illegal in the United States.”

Danilo’s and a few others' heads turn towards the inmate.

“Some kid named Connor Lassiter made such a big fuss about it that the president decided to vote out the Bill when it came back into voting.” They continued.

Danilo can’t believe it, before he even has the time to process it all the shrill noise of the speakers turning on makes themselves apparent.

“All inmates arrested for harbouring unwinds, including members of the A.D.R. you are asked to present yourselves at the front gate.”

Danilo and a few others rise, a guard comes in and guides them to the front gate.

Awaiting outside is the man in charge of the building as well as a few bystanders, there’s one in which Danilo thinks he recognizes.

The man clears his throat, “Like some of you might know, unwinding has been made illegal, honestly in my wife’s personal opinion ‘It's about damn time!’ You people, standing in front of me, no matter how little effort you made are some real rebellious heroes, thank-”

“Just get to the goddamn point!” The woman beside Danilo yells.

“Right, there’s no point in keeping you here anymore, you’re all free to go.”

Danilo feels like smacked over the head, so much good news in one day doesn’t feel real. There are a few cheers from the others, and someone ends up pulling Danilo into a giant group chant.

Soon enough guards take care of pulling out anything belonging to the ex-inmates out of the cells and into suitcases for them to take home. Danilo thanks the guard and starts to head for the exit when he sees that same bystander again, and it makes him furious. Danilo paces over to Cindy, his ex-girlfriend, the same woman who slid an Unwind order for Roland to his side of the glass around two years ago. He goes to yell something at her but she shoves a piece of paper in his face first. He rips the paper out of her hand and starts reading it, he doesn’t understand, what’s a Recall order, and what does it got to do with Roland.

“What now, have you done to our son?” He yells.

“I had him put back together.”

“… What?”

“He just arrived home recently, ya don’t have to meet him now, but I’d like you to meet him soon. I’d also appreciate it if you met Lilian again.”

“Rolando and Liliana? They are both alive?”

“Yes.”

It might have been the happiest of his life, something he fought for finally came true, his little girl is still kicking, and his son is alive once again.

#unwind #unwind dystology #unwind fanfic #unwind series #sequel fic #roland taggart #unwind oc

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yellowmagicalgirl · 2 years ago

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22 clairci?

22. two miserable people meeting at a wedding au from SEND ME A SHIP AND A NUMBER AND I’LL WRITE A SHORT FIC

IDK if this is entirely miserable on both of their parts, but neither of them is 100% happy right now.

AO3 (Archive-locked)

FFN

Mary had done well for herself, Darci supposed. Way better than all her high school boyfriends, and better than most of her college girlfriends. She was marrying a queen, and that wasn't an exaggeration of just how great Aja was. Aja was the queen of Akiridion-V who had turned down proposals from galactic royalty to marry the woman who did PR for the embassy. Mary was worth turning down all those proposals, and Darci was willing to fight anyone and everyone who disagreed.

She would have preferred fighting than the Tarron wedding, though. Everything here was so bright and loud. Even worse, while Mary herself had ordered only silk flowers as to not upset the allergies of her maid of honor, the guests who had brought flowers as gifts hadn't gotten the memo. That meant that Darci was overstimulated with allergies to boot. She wanted to scream, but she didn't want to ruin her best friend's wedding reception.

"I'm getting some air," Darci said vaguely in Mary's direction. Mary Tarron was too busy enjoying herself and her time with her new wife. It was fine.

Darci made her way onto the nearest balcony and was startled by the fact that it was already occupied by a beautiful woman. She appeared to be human and was wearing a dark purple dress with an array of glittering silver hairpins. While she appeared to be Darci's age, the combination of white streaks and the tired look in the woman's eyes made her seem a few years older at first glance.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't realize you were, here, I just -"

"Needed a minute away from the hubub?" The woman smiled goodnaturedly. "I get it; I've been to some previous balls and they were also exhausting, though they took more time to reach that status."

Darci found herself wishing that she had been Mary's plus one to more embassy events. Maybe she could have built up a tolerance. "I take it you work for the embassy?"

Gee, Darce, way to state the obvious, she thought to herself.

"No." Perhaps it wasn't obvious, then. "I'm an old friend of Aja's - I'm from Arcadia Oaks."

Arcadia Oaks, the small town about an hour west of Mary and Darci's hometown of San Bernadino. Aja had lived there for a few months when the two of them and her brother had escaped a coup.

"I'm Claire, by the way. I saw you standing next to Mary, but I don't think I caught your name?"

"Darci."

"Well, Darci, I might be overstepping, but you seem overstimulated. I know a way to fix that; would you like me to?"

"Yes, please." Claire stepped towards Darci, and her hand hovered over Darci's right temple. The air around Claire's hair grew dark, and as she made an arc across Darci's eyes to her other temple, the lights grew muted.

"Feeling better?" Claire asked.

"Yeah, uh, what did you just do?"

"I'm a wizard; it'll wear off in an hour and a half. Feel free to find me then to redo the spell, unless you'd rather hang out and continue talking?"

Darci certainly wanted to keep hanging out with Claire.

#clairci #clarci #tales of arcadia #claire nuñez #darci scott #3below #trollhunters #toawizards #maraja #they're not the focus but they're there #my writing #answered ask #depreshroom #i have not been to a wedding since i was a single digit age so idk if this accurate to modern earth weddings #blame the inaccuracies on the fact that one of the brides isn't human

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linkcache · 1 year ago

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Part II: Match.

Where: District Three When: May. One month after 133’s victory ball, two months before 134 begins. Word Count: 1322.

“I’ve got a task!” The announcement wasn’t one out of the ordinary, around noon on a bustling day. Link looked over the rim of her book at her father, making a very clear face. Not it. She was cozy.

The older man smiled across the room at her and turned towards the archway leading into the Cache kitchen. “What is it, dear?”

“Post office! By the door, hearth day cards. Train only comes once a week, we need to get these out today!”

“Isn’t it May?” Link murmured it good naturedly, and she caught her dad snickering. He’d heard.

Unfortunately, her mother had too. “What was that?” She asked, and Link shook her head.

“Nothin’, Mom, Just committing. I got it.”

Her mother had definitely heard her, but didn’t seem too pressed about any of it. Link, regrettably, had to get out of her very comfy reading spot and put down her book. The walk would be nice, and since her victory, the curbs from the victory village to the nearest areas were always immaculately maintained. The sun would be bright but not too hot. Flowers were rare in three, but the ones that grew through the concrete would be in full bloom.

Yeah, she’d go.

She might not even have noticed someone getting dragged into the station. It was a good thing that rights were being read loudly, and it was an especially good thing one of Link's earbuds had died halfway there. She looked up, trying to figure out what was going on, when she caught sight of Zip being hauled into the station.

Zip????

Link dropped the hearth day cards and pushed with all her might, weaving over the cobbled street and around rubbernecks who were watching the whole situation. It didn’t need to be a production.

He was inside before she got in, and she had to push her way through the crowd. She definitely whacked some ankles. Link didn’t care. This was the reaping all over again, her baby brother getting dragged into the justice building. She’d volunteered for him then. She wasn’t letting anything happen to him this time either. She screamed at the receptionist, which was definitely unkind, but it didn’t matter. She learned she needed to talk to Head Peacekeeper Basalt, and that was all she needed.

She almost pulled a wheelie in her haste to reach the office. She burst in, feet slamming into the door and slamming it into the wall. She even made Basalt jump. “What are you doing with Zip?” Link domanded, jaw set and halfway to foaming.

The woman looked at her, finally taking in the situation beyond a loud bang. “Oh. Here already.” She seemed surprised, but not overly. Everyone knew how Link was with her siblings. This had to be somewhat expected, if they were arresting him. The woman visibly weighed the pragmatism of trying to kick out a fuming victor. She must’ve decided that wasn’t worth it, because the next words were cordial. “I was just going over it. Come in. Join me”

“He’s a kid. He didn’t do anything. What’s there to go over? He’s never gotten into any fights. He’s got Straight A’s, an-.”

“Do shut up.” The woman held the same pragmatism as her mother, and it silenced Link. “Have you ever heard of TH3 T0MMYKN0CK3R?” Link froze, paling visibly. Nano. Not just Nano. Slate. Slate. Fuck. “at least, I think that’s how it’s pronounced. So many numbers. Strange. Now, you’ve been to the tower, I’m sure you’ve seen it before. Treasonous things. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Swallowing, Link nodded. How was this relevant? Well, she knew how it was relevant, but hopefully the peacekeepers didn’t.

“Of course, The capitol’s tasked all of us to be on the lookout for any Tommys who come A’knocking, so to speak. And of course, I don’t mean to hurt your lovely family. You’ve all been nothing but charming. But we’ve found some fairly solid evidence that your brother himself is our fugitive Meta Morphic. Take a look, It was in his bag.”

She slid across the evidence, multiple issues of TH3 T0MMYKN0CK3R. And worse, a half-written article. His handwriting. Link just stared, blankly, trying to gather her thoughts. “No, no, he-”

“He has intel on the games. His eldest sister goes every six months, I’m sure she tells him things when she gets home. He has access to technology, he could distribu-”

“No.” Link asserted, shaking her head. They were going to kill him, they were going to pin this whole thing on him. Then in a month, another issue of the stupid zine would come out and he’d be dead for no reason at all. “He isn’t the one writing it. He’s never left three. He must’ve- fuck.”

“See, I’m not inclined to believe you.” The head peacekeeper’s gaze felt like the president herself. “Especially not in this state.”

“He didn’t! I know who did. He must’ve just-. No Cache would- we wouldn’t- He wouldn’t-”

“Do you know?” she asked, leaning forward. “Or are you just going to say anything to keep your rebel brother safe?” it was an inquisition, now. Link had made it one. “If you know, you better be right. I won’t have anyone in this district obstructing justice, not even you.”

Link shook her head, cheeks red and eyes watering. She had to say something. But what was she going to say? “I’m not obstructing justice. I’m trying to help!!! I promise.” she was shaking, running through shit she could say. Nano? No, off the table. Even if he’d probably been the one to give Zip those articles. Slate? Off the table. She couldn’t do that. but who else… and who, most importantly, would definitely have TH3 T0MMYKN0CK3R in their possession at any given time?

Hell, who actually was the person who’d done this? Who had written those? Hadn’t he assumed all the risks inherent?

“It was Slate.”

The name was out quick, only one syllable.

Immediately, it felt terrible. But she had to keep talking, lest she lose the chance to make a case. so she did, and fast. “From twelve. He was here last week. He… he’s always skirting the line with this stuff. Never far enough to report him, at least not to my face. But it has to be him. He must’ve left it in his room. He’s in the tower. He travels to districts. Zip was just the one who changed the sheets when he left.” She was talking fast, trying to figure out a logical connection as she spoke. In all truth, he’d probably given it to zip while he was still here. It was a good thing Link's brain worked fast, though. She had lots of practice in PR from her time as a mentor. “He must’ve been collecting it to report it, or something. I don’t know. I just know it wasn’t my Zip.”

It was tense, and quiet, and Link felt a sinking sense of dread. Slate was her friend. What if she’d just doomed him and her brother in one fell swoop?

“Interesting.” was the eventual word. “Well, You’re in no state to go home alone. We’ll have peacekeepers escort you… and your brother… back to the village. Misunderstandings happen.”

Link choked on her own gasp of relief, as it turned into a sob halfway up her throat. “Thank you.”

“Yes, yes, I’m charitable. But don’t misunderstand me. Your family will stay at home until this is all sorted out. Even victors can’t delay justice meaninglessly. If you’re lying-” “I’m not. I swear.” she knew she was right. That wasn’t why she looked scared.

“Well, then I thank you for doing your duty, and you’ll be allowed to return to your outings sometime next week. Leave it to the professionals. Together we crush rebellions. Panem today, Panem tomorrow…”

“Panem forever.”

“Panem Forever.” the peacekeeper agreed. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”

#133 #at home week #133-134 #match #slate

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loremaster-lavellan · 1 year ago

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The Snow Prince - Part 4

(Looks like I haven't forgotten this thing after all)

Prologue - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

The sensation of stepping through the wayshrine is like missing a step descending a staircase. Ydhedhor’s stomach drops, and he holds his father’s hand tighter before his feet find solid ground again. Blinking, he steps out into an entirely new place.

Trees the color of white ash grow in every direction, their silver-green leaves forming a canopy through which the sun speckles the ground. They grow close, yet there’s room to pass between their smooth trunks, and from the eight-year-old’s perspective, the forest goes on forever in every direction. A paved pathway leads from the wayshrine to an unknown destination.

In a state of fascination, Ydhedhor doesn’t notice the woman waiting for them until she speaks. “Welcome to the grove,” she says with a quick bow. “I am Gardener Elbora. We appreciate you coming so promptly.”

“Gardeners wouldn’t request an audience without cause,” answers Vyrre. “What is it you need from me?”

“There’s something you need to see. Come.” The woman bids them follow and starts down the path.

Though he follows, Ydhedhor dallies among the trees. He’s seen them before around the city, around the chantry, depicted in crests and paintings, but not in this number. Their bark is smooth, almost soft, to the touch; roots twist and bend beneath his feet; the leaves rustle in the breeze. “Where are we?” he asks.

“This is the Grove of the Snow Cedars, my Prince,” answers Gardener Elbora. “The first settlers brought a single sapling from Mereth. Every tree across Pin Darre is descended from that first sapling. From their branches we make staves, from their bark and leaves medicine, and from their sap potions, among other uses.”

“They’re a part of our heritage,” adds Vyrre.

“What does ‘heritage’ mean?” wonders Ydhedhor.

“I’ll show you later.”

One bend in the paved path ends in a part of the grove where the trees are smaller and narrower, and the sound of waves is barely audible – they must be near the ocean. A glass house takes up a small clearing, the walls and roof glittering in the sun. Elbora leads the Regent and the princeling into the glass house. A half dozen young trees rest in pots, and a second gardener cuts a length of bark from one and lays it on a tray as they enter.

Ydhedhor, observant as any curious child, is quicker to query than his father. “What’s wrong with them?”

It starts at the roots, a streaky, toxic black, and twines its way up the trunks like skinny fingers. Two trees have it in their branches, their shimmering leaves tainted, and one is supported by wooden stakes. The air in the glass house, warmed by the sun, smells like the kitchen scrap bin.

“This is why I requested your visit, Prince Regent.” Elbora rings her hands. “We don’t know. We thought it was rot and treated it as such, but it resists our best remedies for rot, blight, fungus . . . we’ve a few left to try.”

“How long has this been happening?”

“We noticed the first infected trees about a year ago. It’s slow to spread, which is why we didn’t think it serious, but since then we’ve found it across the grove. Thirteen infected so far, all saplings but no other obvious connections – even the locations are different.”

“What action do you ask of me?”

“Only your awareness, for now. I admit, this doesn’t look like an urgent problem, but . . . I’ve got a bad feeling about it.”

Ydhedhor wanders over to the nearest tree and looks up at its branches. A leaf falls and lands at his feet. “Are they dying?”

“Yes.”

There’s a twinge in the princeling’s heart. He casts his eyes down and sees, tucked away between the pots of the larger trees, a tiny sapling. It’s no taller than his forearm is long, its branches brittle and bare, the black fingers already consuming the length of it. The sight of the thing deepens the ache in his chest and fires a resolute spitefulness. He picks up the sapling and turns to his father. “I’m keeping this one.”

* * * * *

The gardeners didn’t stop Ydhedhor from taking the sapling. They told him to leave it in its pot, to keep it away from other trees, but they covered it with a sack, tied up the top, and let him carry it out of the greenhouse. He holds it with both arms protectively and follows behind his father.

Vyrre didn’t say where they’re going, only bade his son follow. Away from the glass house and the wayshrine, up a path of worn stone steps half claimed by grass and tree roots, into another part of the grove where the trees are bigger and denser.

“When our ancestors brought that first tree with them,” Vyrre breaks the peace, “they didn’t bring a simple resource. More than a plant to use for tools and potions, they brought with them a part of the home they left behind. A part of Mereth. When it took root and flourished and multiplied, they knew there would be a future.”

All at once, the path through the trees leads through narrow stone, barely wide enough for Vyrre to pass. It ends in a clearing walled by natural dirt and stone, and across from the opening is the biggest, most magnificent tree Ydhedhor has ever seen. Its roots are thicker than the body of a grown man, arching high enough to walk under, and they climb up the side of the walls and twist into a thick trunk that soars into the sky, so high the top can’t be seen from the ground. Birds sing and fly high among the leaves, and when the wind blows, the branches sway and creak.

“Every snow cedar that takes root in Pin Darre is another promised future, as are you, as was your mother, as was every Snow Prince and Princess that came before you. Look around you. Look at the trees here.”

Ydhedhor turns his head from side to side, unsure what else there is to see besides the great old cedar, until he sees it. Every tree around him is two. Trunks and roots and branches intertwine so tightly they appear to be one, and in fact a few have grown fused in places, so long and so tightly have they grown together.

“This one is your mother’s.” Vyrre points to a pair of trees, following the motion of the curves with his hand. One of the pair is older and taller, and the other smaller, wrapping around its older counterpart. The Knight-Paladin points out the smaller tree as he continues, “And that one’s mine. Every Snow Prince and Princess plants a seed when they’re coronated, and so does whoever they marry on their wedding day. When you’re old enough to take the crown, you will take a seed from your mother’s tree and plant it yourself. This is what heritage means.”

After a thoughtful pause, Ydhedhor makes a face. “I don’t get it.”

Vyrre smiles. “You will.” Slowly, the smile fades into a more serious expression. “Ydhedhor, what do you think of Arch-Curate Sidazius? Be honest – I will not scold you for however you think.”

“I don’t know.” The princeling shrugs. “You said he’s important, and I should respect him, and everybody bows to him like they do to us . . .”

“What’s that thought?”

“I don’t like the way he talks to Girwith.”

“Hm. Remember, Ydhedhor, that it takes a great deal of time and dedication to become an Arch-Curate, and for that time and dedication alone he should be respected. But real respect must be earned by character, by how someone uses what they’ve attained, how they treat the people they’re meant to lead.”

The young prince looks up at his father. “Is the Arch-Curate a bad man?”

“That’s a conversation for when you’re older. For now, use what you know and make your own opinion.”

#the snow prince #the elder scrolls #snow elf #falmer #my writing #my oc

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shadowsshowdown · 2 years ago

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Deus Ex: Human Revolution Shadow’s Showdown 26

youtube

The Red Drop.

Detroit. Laura’s apartment.

Adam didn't have time to ponder the reason that had pushed her into this suicide attempt. He wished very much it wasn't him. His police work had enriched him with first aid skills, and if he had the right equipment he could even perform simple treatments. Jensen swiftly reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, which he used to temporarily stop the bleeding on one of her hands. He began consciously but hasty to look for a first aid kit. Luckily he found it in a cupboard under the sink. He opened the box, from which he took two tourniquets, placed them above the wounds, and tightened them to help stop the bleeding more effectively. With another swift motion, he took his phone from his coat pocket and dialed the emergency number.

"This is nine one one what's your emergency?" he heard a female voice.

"Suicide attempt, female in her 30s. She slit her wrists and swallowed pills. I don't know how many might have been in the package," he informed matter-of-factly, mentioning the name of the drug.

"Please be patient and stay where you are. The ambulance will arrive in about five minutes. In the meantime, please stop the hemorrhage and..."

The Chief of Security dictated all the required information. "Already done, the woman is breathing but has a weak pulse."

"There is nothing more you can do. An ambulance is on its way. Goodbye."

"Goodbye," he replied before the connection was cut.

Only now did he notice he had Laura's blood on his hands. Although it wasn't the first time and he should get used to it, in this particular case he couldn't. With all his might, he tried to blame it on Damien, but he knew the most guilty one was himself. He had abandoned her in a cruel way, for the sake of the cause. Rupert might have been right, and that didn't make him feel any better. Soon he heard sirens wailing, so he went out into the corridor to lead the ambulancemen. Adam heard the clang of metal and the sound of wheels pounding across the floor.

"Well done, Mr. Jensen," one of the ambulancemen praised him. "You saved her life."

Adam nodded slightly but didn't feel any better from it at all. Standing aside, he watched as they took Laura to a stretcher and strapped her. She was pale and barely alive.

"Which hospital are you taking her to?" he asked at the last minute.

"If you're not her relative or husband, I'm sorry but I can't help," replied a man with dark, short-cut hair.

"She has no family," Jensen insisted.

"To the nearest one."

It was a clever answer that normally would have been of little use, but there was only one hospital in the area; the one he and Laura had visited recently. The Chief of Security nodded as a gesture of thanks. Immediately after they had left, he allowed himself to search the woman's lockers. He felt what he was doing was inappropriate, but he wanted to pack a few things that could be of use to her. He didn't know how long they would keep her on the ward. As he tucked her pajamas into the bag, he froze in mid-motion. A thought struck him, and he immediately pushed it away with all his might. What if she doesn't survive? As he walked through the living room, he was stopped by the ringing phone. It was lying on the coffee table, the one at which he had been drinking his coffee only moments ago. Even his mug was still standing on it. Adam glanced at the screen hesitating whether he should answer. The fact that it was Faridah justified his act.

"Hey, Laura! How was the movie? Did you enjoy it? Too bad I didn't make it," the head pilot attacked with a series of questions. "Are you there?"

"It's me, Adam," he said after a moment of grim silence. "Laura's not here... They're taking her to the hospital," the words ran down his throat as if he was spitting sandpaper out of it.

"Don't joke around like that! Give her the phone," she commanded.

"I'm deadly serious!" he exclaimed, but after a few deep breaths he calmed down. "Laura tried to commit suicide," he explained trying to keep his tone steady however his voice was shaking and he couldn't help it. "I'm going to the hospital. Yes that one," he informed when Faridah stopped screaming into the receiver. "I'll meet you there."

The ex-SWAT finished packing Laura’s things, took her phone and charger as well, then left Stalker some food and locked the apartment. Walking down the street, he squeezed the handle of the bag in his hand so hard that it left a red mark on it, and his hand slowly began to go numb. He cursed under his breath again and again. This whole damn turn of events was not the way he wanted it to be. Jensen nimbly ducked in front of a moving car. The driver honked at him, but the ex-SWAT didn't give a damn. He had even forgotten he had adopted that bloody cat who probably had scratched all the furniture by now.

Hospital.

Several minutes later, he was climbing the hospital stairs two at once. This time he was entering through a different entrance that led to the wards. On the way, he was passed by ambulancemen who just arrived with an injured person. In the reception room, he looked around, but Faridah was not there yet. Only a few people were waiting for medical attention. Adam approached a nurse sitting behind a large, semicircular desk.

"Good evening. I'm looking for a patient who should be brought here by now. Werner, Laura Werner,” Jensen felt he was unlikely to learn anything and would have to act somewhat against his beliefs, but it was an exceptional situation.

"Family, relative?" she asked shortly and formally.

"She has no family. We work together at Sarif Industries. I know the rules, but she is close to me, I hope..."

"Yes, I understand, but you should understand me too," she replied firmly.

"Of course..." Adam resignedly sighed moving away from the desk.

"Mr..." the woman waited for him to finish the sentence for her.

"Jensen, Adam Jensen," he replied politely.

"I hope she gets out of this," the receptionist smiled slightly and moved a small, square piece of paper toward the man in a discreet motion. It was blue in color.

"Thank you, I hope so too," he replied with a simultaneous nod.

The ex-SWAT looked at the piece of paper and read from it that Laura was lying in room 109 on the third floor. He walked down a long corridor with doors to different rooms until he reached the elevator. Someone was getting off it, so he did not have to wait. During the ride, he wrote a message to Malik giving her the information from the card. There were hospital staff members in front of the room. Adam was sure they were talking about Laura.

"She's lost a lot of blood. Unless we can find her group at another hospital, the woman will not survive," the doctor said.

"Nurse Thomson is still looking, but there are problems everywhere," the nurse replied in a resigned tone.

"Does Mrs. Werner have any family? Does anyone at all know what happened?" the doctor inquired.

"Unfortunately. We found out that her parents are dead and she has no one close to her here."

Jensen decided he had to interject into this conversation. He can't just stand around and wait. This time, he will do everything within his power.

"Sorry to interrupt," the Chief of Security got their attention. "Adam Jensen, Sarif Industries. Miss Werner works with me, if there's anything I can do to help..."

"You're the one who found her, aren't you?" The doctor asked immediately after reading the notes.

"That's right. I was visiting her. It happened moments after I left. She would be dead if I didn’t leave my coat at her place," Adam tried to explain but he didn’t know the reason for doing this irrelevant thing.

"I'm afraid there's nothing more you can do," Dr. O'Brien sighed in resignation.

"Unless you have a zero negative blood group," the nurse interjected.

"Yes, I do have a zero negative. I can..."

"Please come with me. We don't have time," the woman urged.

Jensen followed her into the treatment room where the nurse ordered him to expose his arm. She put a tourniquet around that limb to better identify a vein that appears easy to access. After that, she cleaned the place with an alcohol pad and carefully inserted the needle. Moments later the nurse took a sample from the bag filling with blood. The woman explained the sample was taken to tests for compliance and whether there were any contraindications to giving it to Laura. Adam didn't wait long for the results, but to him, it felt like an eternity. The short, stocky nurse with long blond hair in a braid was very nice to him. While Adam was sitting in the chair clutching a rubber ball in his hand he stared at the ceiling praying with all his might that it would not be too late. He shifted his gaze to the rubber hose running from his hand to the rectangular container. It was placed on a blood collection monitor next to him and gently shaking. He wanted the blood to flow faster.

"Please be of good cheer and have faith. It's hard to live without it,” she tried to calm him down.

Right after the woman removed the needle from his vein Adam wanted to get up and go to Laura, but the nurse categorically forbade him.

"I have to go there," he insisted stubbornly.

"You will go, but first of all you won't see her for the time being anyway, and secondly it was a huge effort for your body. Please eat a candy bar, breathe deeply and rest for at least a quarter of an hour," she ordered in the tone of a caring mother and nurse at the same time.

Jensen nodded with understanding. The woman was right, he would not speed up anything at the moment, and he might even cause them more problems with his behavior. For more than a quarter of an hour, he sat idly as advised. He was a model patient but only for the sake of Laura's welfare. Too many bad things had already happened because of him. A while later he strolled along the corridor with a piece of gauze clutched in his bent hand, sat down for a few seconds, got up, and strolled again.

"Adam, take it easy," he heard Faridah's voice say. "Keep strolling like this and soon there will be a hole in the floor."

"Good to see you," he tried to smile at least a little but all that came out was some weird crooked grimace that didn't resemble it at all.

Malik looked at his hand. "What happened to you?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Nothing," he muttered straightening his arm and slipping the sleeve of his sweater down.

"Seriously, I don't have the energy for your evasions, escapes, cover-ups and goddamn knows what," she growled in exasperation.

"And I..." he wanted to say that it was none of her business. He didn't need to explain anything and he wasn't going to tolerate a nosy attitude, but just gasped. "They needed blood. I have a compatible type so..." he explained escaping with his gaze to the side.

"Do you know anything? Will she come out of it?" she inquired.

"I don't know anything. Except that it's my fault," Adam bit his lip. He'd said too much, way too much.

"If it wasn't for you, she'd be dead. Think, then speak."

They didn’t count the hours that had passed. Faridah noticed that Jensen was barely conscious of fatigue but didn’t say a word.

"Mr. Jensen, you can see her, but not for more than five minutes. She's weak," the nurse, the same one who had taken his blood, informed him.

The man nodded and disappeared into the room a moment later. He didn't know how to act or what to say. He squeezed the handle of the bag in his hand tighter and tighter.

"I brought you a few things if you..."

"Get the fuck out of here..." hissed Laura, lying with her back turned towards him.

"Laura... I..." he tried to say something but couldn't.

"Are you deaf or stupid?! I said, get the fuck off! I didn't want you to save me! This is why you commit suicide - to die, you know?!"

Jensen left the bag and walked out. What was he even hoping for? That Laura would call him a hero? Faridah tried to stop him but he pushed her away so forcefully that she almost fell. Once he was outside the hospital, he lit a cigarette, then a second and a third. If it wasn't for the cat, he would probably go to the first better pub to get drunk. This barely happened to him a few times in the past. One of them was when he broke up with Megan.

The cat greeted him as soon as he crossed the threshold. She sat down beside Adam looking at him curiously. He heard her long, happy meow and then the sound of her claws while she was walking across the parquet. Adam took out his phone and tossed his coat into the corner. He sat down on the sofa with the instant idea of reaching for the bottle and pouring himself some whisky, but the cat's wise blue eyes looked at him as if to say, "Don't do it, it's not an option." Jensen sighed as he set the bottle down. The cat jumped into his lap, climbed up Jensen's torso, and licked his cheek. He immediately saw her tail sticking up vertically and turned his head away. He was beginning to seriously consider whether to actually keep the pet, but could he afford it with the lifestyle he was living?

Hospital.

Faridah almost begged the nurse to see Laura for a few minutes. After receiving the permission, she decided not to waste a second of that time. The woman was lying on her side with her back turned to the entrance and didn't even speak when she heard her enter.

"Are you going to kick me out too?" she asked cautiously.

"I'll think about it," she muttered.

"Why did you do that?" she asked another question as she sat down on the chair by the bed.

"Because this asshole wants to be a hero by force, he doesn't care at all. He just did it for the peace of his conscience, because that's what he should do," she growled.

"I shouldn't interfere or say what you're about to hear, but I have to," Malik said in a rough tone. "Adam gave you his blood. Do what you want with that information."

"He and his fucking sense of duty," the woman muttered in exasperation.

"Didn't it come to that empty, selfish head that maybe he cares about you more than you think he does?""What difference does it make? I kicked him out the door. "

"You can always call him or text him," Malik shrugged.

"I don't have a phone. I don't have anything at all," she said quietly.

"Adam took care of everything. He brought you a phone, a charger, pajamas..." she listed one by one.

Laura rolled over onto her back, the light blinded her so she closed her eyes. Only now did she realize she had screwed up everything, most notably the trip to Washington.

"I should go now," the Chief Pilot said, seeing that Laura was not very talkative.

The woman was laying without a single motion, trying to digest what she had heard. Jensen had saved her life, which was a coincidence. He had to come back for something, forget something. Laura thought back to his visit, going over the events one by one.

"Yeah, he forgot his coat," she muttered under her breath.

Then he found her, because no one opened the door, and the rest was another link in the chain of reactions. Her thoughts were interrupted by a nurse who came to check if everything was okay.

"I know it's none of my business, but having someone like Mr. Jensen, you've been thinking of killing yourself," the woman said calmly. "You can see he cares a lot, and he wasn't acting out of a sense of duty like anyone who saves another person," she continued, adjusting Laura's pillow. "Now please rest. If something happens, just press the button."

Another person pointed out to her how blind she was to all the gestures and efforts. The problem was nothing was falling into a logical whole. Laura reached for her phone with the intention of browsing the internet aimlessly. Her sutured hands ached along with the throat after gastric lavage. She found that killing herself hurt far less. Then she noticed the nurse must have left a handkerchief on the nightstand. It was covered in blood, and on one of the corners had gold initials A.J.

Jensen's apartment.

Adam played with the cat, feeling they were beginning to share a bond. The animal was very calm, maybe still scared that it had landed in a new place. When she got bored of catching the laser dot, she sat down and started cleaning fur. Jensen smiled slightly, and thoughts of Laura immediately returned. He got up from the sofa and went to the kitchen to brew himself some tea. The phone moved with a loud buzz on the top of the coffee table, and its screen began to rhythmically pulse with yellow light. Jensen poured himself a cup of tea first, and only then did he decide to check what it might be. He wanted to sit down in his seat, but the cat had time to take it. He had no conscience to shoo sleeping furry one away, so he carefully settled down next to her. He lazily took his smartphone and checked its inbox.

"Thank you." - Those were the only words the message contained, and next to it was an emoticon representing a red droplet, which he thought symbolized blood. Jensen sighed heavily already knowing that Faridah must have told Laura everything. On the other hand, it gave him hope that once this whole farce was over, rebuilding a relationship with her would not be as difficult as he had assumed.

The message soothed his thoughts enough that he managed to lie down and take a nap. It was not the kind of rest he had dreamed of, but it was always better than a sleepless night. In the morning he felt a weight on his stomach, unnatural as if it was a projection of his still sleeping mind. The weight moved, it tickled the skin, causing this unbearable but pleasant feeling at the same time. Adam reflexively clenched his stomach muscles, suppressed a laugh, but did not open his eyes. Then a gentle scratching made Jensen's mind start to become more and more conscious. It wasn't a dream or his imagination, a cat was lying on the man's naked belly. It was now looking at him with its wise eyes of deep blue color. After a moment it yawned, stood up, and stretched while piercing its claws into Adam’s skin. The ex-SWAT hissed in pain and leaned back on his elbows changing his position from lying down to half-sitting. The animal showed him mercy by descending onto the bedding. It sat up and after a while, with a loud and long meow, it probably demanded food. Jensen thought it was a pretty good idea, so he got up and went to the bathroom. The cat jumped on the cupboard while he was brushing his teeth and knocked the water cup down with her tail. The Chief of Security was angry with her but decided to be understanding. He picked up the cup, washed it, and poured the water again. When he finished his morning toilet, he wiped the water off the floor, got dressed, and went to the kitchen. Thinking about what he could eat he first filled the cat's bowl with the food Laura had given him. He was worried that the cat would not want to eat, but he was wrong. She ate both dry and wet food with the same appetite. Adam had eggs, some ham, and chives in the fridge, so he fried up an omelet for himself so he wouldn't keep eating cereal all the time. It was only when he sat down to eat breakfast that he remembered when he had eaten the same thing with Laura and he immediately stopped enjoying it. He forced himself to finish it and when he succeeded he looked at his watch. It was about 11 am, the perfect time to visit Laura. He hoped she had already forgotten about what happened yesterday and wasn't telling him to fuck off.

Jensen left the house around half past twelve dressed in the brown sweater he often wore, dark blue jeans, and his usual coat. As he walked down the street, he wrapped a gray scarf loosely around his neck. Today was an unusually cold day. He wondered if he would meet Faridah, but she was not in the hallway. Adam slowly looked into the room, preparing some kind words in his mind. At the sight of the empty bed, he froze bound with fear. His mind was momentarily invaded by the darkest thoughts. He had been standing in the doorway for a long time as if just looking would make Laura appear in the room.

"Mr. Jensen, hello, unfortunately, the patient was discharged this morning at her own request. We tried to convince her not to, but to no avail," he heard behind him the voice of the same kind nurse who took his blood yesterday. "It's good that you are here. The doctor was supposed to call you. He wanted to discuss some important matters. I will ask if he is free now if you have time. "

"Of course. Since it's important I'll take as much of my time as necessary," Adam replied.

Deep down he was furious with Laura for acting so irresponsibly. She barely survived yesterday, what was she even thinking?! He wanted to yell at her, tell her how stupid she was, but it was a very bad idea. Whatever decisions she makes, she's an adult, and he has no right to forbid anything.

"The doctor will see you," he heard the woman's voice again and noticed the invitation expressed with a hand gesture.

He took a deep breath before entering the consulting room. The place was not large and did not stand out from other consulting rooms. There was a glass cabinet with medicines in it, a desk in the middle, and an exam table along the right wall. Jensen sat down in the chair right away in front of a man who appeared to be over forty years of age. He wore a white lab coat and a stethoscope slung around his neck. He was just looking through a file, shaking his head at the same time.

"Mr. Jensen Laura's case is more serious than I thought. Psychological suicide attempt, depressive seizures, cerebral edema in the back right side of her brain. Not large but still something quite serious. In addition, she was discharged from the hospital," the doctor recited with his elbow resting on the desktop, the index and middle finger of his right hand were supporting his temple. "I should order a psychological examination. It's possible it would even be necessary to implement…" the man paused for a moment. "Treatment in a psychiatric ward," he finished, looking intently at Jensen, who tried his best not to show how much the news had shaken him.

"I am familiar with her condition. Unfortunately, before I had time to act Miss Werner tried to end her life," he lied but he had no choice. With his lie at stake and her sight in a straitjacket sitting in the corner of the room, like a vegetable made the decision clear. "I know a great psychologist. I wanted to convince her to therapy, unfortunately, I didn't make it."

The doctor twirled a pen in his fingers, rubbing his forehead in the process. Procedures dictated something other than conscience and common sense. He knew that being locked up in a ward could be more devastating than helpful, which was why it was so difficult for him to make the right decision. "If it's not a secret, could I get the name of that psychologist?" he asked squinting his green eyes.

"Of course, it's Rupert MacKenzie. I used his help myself. I was in serious condition at the time," Adam replied. He was sure the name would work as it should and he wasn't wrong.

The man grunted, raising his eyebrows in amazement. "If this is the same MacKenzie I've heard about then I can rest assured. However, I must make you aware of certain things. If Miss Laura refuses, she will not be allowed to continue working at Sarif Industries or anywhere else. She will be sent to a mental health hospital, and we both don't want that, do we?" He looked significantly at Adam as if to tell him that he was taking a risk by breaking the rules and there would not be another chance.

"I understand perfectly well what you mean. I'll make sure she acts wisely. "

"Please bring the certificate of the course of the therapy to me and do not delay it too long," he punctuated the last words, strengthen their importance.

Jensen said a brief "Goodbye" and left the room. He felt the weight of everything he heard, almost crushing him to the ground. Good thing he didn't accidentally mention what Damien had done to her or that she had been raped. He lit a cigarette as he barely left the hospital. He had to abreact somehow, and he couldn't find any other way. On the way to Laura’s place, he thought about what he should do and say. Meeting her is necessary but risky. How is he going to tell her that she needs to go to therapy? After all, the conversation will end in war. They should be in Washington tomorrow, and suddenly plans are in ruins. He'll call Sarif as soon as possible and tell him what happened. It's the only option.

He hesitated before pressing the bell. It was that last moment to think about the next course of action and to subdue the raging emotions. The moment which will decide about everything that would follow had just come. Adam had waited a moment before Laura opened the door for him. For a split second, he saw on her face the joy most evident in her sparkling green eyes. She was pale and weakened, but at the same time full of inner energy and fury.

"Great! She sent for you too?!" she growled, but allowed Jensen to enter.

The man frowned not really understanding what she meant. He dived into the heavy, stuffy atmosphere that he had never felt in her apartment before. He didn't take off his coat or shoes. Something completely different occupied his attention entirely. Faridah was sitting on the sofa in the living room, looking furious, extremely furious. The fingers of her hands crossed on her chest drummed nervously against her biceps. She was looking to her left toward the window. Her lips pressed into a thin line didn't bode anything good. To piss off Fly Girl was like unleashing hell on earth. There was a mug of unfinished coffee on the table in front of her and a nibbled cookie on a plate.

"I don't understand what this is all about," he uncertainly muttered looking at Laura then at Malik. "Any explanation?"

"Since you're here you probably know that this ungrateful idiot discharged from the hospital at her own request," the head pilot hissed without turning her head.

"I know, and I came to talk to her like with an adult, responsible person," the ex-SWAT said calmly.

"We have nothing to talk about. Now please get out of here and leave me alone," Laura growled standing in the entrance to the kitchen.

Jensen discreetly nodded at Faridah, suggesting to listen. The woman wasn't entirely sure if she should give in on the issue and if leaving Laura with Adam was wise, but she decided to trust him. She slowly got up from the sofa and left without a word. The Chief of Security closed the door behind her, took off his coat, and hung it on the coat rack knowing this was going to be a long, tiring conversation and maybe even a fight.

Miss Werner flitted across the living room like a caged bird when Jensen unhurriedly approached her. He carefully placed his hands on her shoulders while standing behind the woman's back. She didn't shake them off, didn't throw unspeakable curses at him, didn't do anything. She couldn't. He paralyzed her with that gesture and the breath she felt when he gently leaned over her ear. The woman felt like she was about to cry. Just like that, humanly from an excess of accumulated emotions. Adam felt it with his whole being, which is why he allowed himself to forget about Damien’s threat just for this moment. She needed him, so he couldn't ignore it. Not even any crazy ex could change anything. The woman suddenly turned, embracing him tightly around the waist and snuggling her cheek against his rough sweater smelling just as she remembered it. A delicate and mysterious aroma of citrus, slightly tart but broken by a subtle hint of vanilla with a slightly sharp finish mixed with sweat that was now more noticeable than usual. Jensen was nervous. He was afraid of his every reaction, afraid of taking one step too far. Laura was making him forget about the threat. Thoughts galloped through his mind. He wanted to kiss her, wanted to place his hands on her hips again, to slide over her smooth skin and feel goosebumps growing under his touch. It wasn't the first time he'd caught himself wanting her. That strong feeling was arousing excitement within him. He was like a hungry, lone wolf facing prey he must not touch. Prey tempting in every possible way, encouraging him to break the rules. A moment more and he would have forgotten why he came here.

"Why did you do that?" he asked as calmly as he could. "You were barely alive when..." Adam broke off his sentence. "When I found you." he finished. He prepared himself for hearing to fuck off again, but this time he wouldn't listen anyway.

The woman let go of him, took a few steps back, and turned toward the window as if realizing she had done something wrong. "Because I can't leave you alone with all this mess," she replied.

Jensen didn't know what he should answer. If he took the words personally, he might come off like an idiot, and if he stays professional and diverged from the correct interpretation he would offend her. Neither of those options was good. He should look for some neutral words.

"I can't jeopardize the good of the company and your position. Even if things are no longer as they were between us. You can rest assured. I will bring the Washington matter to an end and then you will never see me again," she continued as if she had learned this speech by heart beforehand.

All the muscles in the ex-SWAT's body tense up suddenly, ready to react to what he heard. He wanted to deny everything, to explain. He held back with all his strength. He had to. He was beginning to doubt if he could glue together the shattered pieces of glass that had hurt her too much.

"It's your decision and you'll do as you wish, but you can hand over all the guidelines to Connor," he informed while having a fear that Laura would misunderstand his intentions. "Of course I will personally make sure any credit is not taken away from you. This is your project and you deserve the credit."

The woman crossed her arms over her chest. Adam's face was reflected in the glass. She could see he was tense, that talking to her was like walking through a minefield. She could feel it in his words, too.

"I can handle it. You don't have to worry. I'll try not overexerting myself and such," she replied with a careless wave of her hand.

"There is one other very important matter. I thought you might not want Faridah to know about this, or you might prefer to tell her yourself, but..." Jensen took a deep breath. He knew the atmosphere was about to get worse. "I talked to the doctor. Before you start screaming listen to me fully," he asked, but she didn't start screaming at all so he continued. "He said you're in danger of..."

"Nuthouse?" she asked with a shrug. "So what? I can say no, and I'm not worried about the job."

"I know a very skilled psychologist. He's not like the others and helped me pull myself together after Mexicantown. Think about it, please," he urged. Laura's vision of being locked in the same room with the real madmen resounded with a firm protest and a desire to dissuade her from the idea at any cost.

"Is that the weirdo with the pipe who was with you at Crann Tara?" she asked directly at which Jensen frowned.

"Yes, it was Rupert," he nodded, seeing no point in lying.

"He already had time to judge me? To see me like a rag and a slut, yes?!" she raised her voice without turning away from the glass."No," Adam replied calmly. "MacKenzie has one fundamental rule that he sticks to. Outside of work, he's a normal person, puts his skills aside, doesn't give advice, doesn't judge, doesn't listen to problems," he explained briefly but as accurately as possible. "That's why he's special. If you are so inclined, we can meet him at Crann Tara. No declarations of any kind. You will decide for yourself whether you will give him a chance. That's my suggestion."

Laura strolled thoughtfully along the wall, but she did not look at the Chief of Security. At first, she thought it was some kind of trick, but she didn't see a sensible reason. She felt like agreeing, after all, she wouldn't lose anything on this. She needed help, though she couldn't admit it.

The ex-SWAT decided the woman ignored his efforts, so he waited no longer in pointless silence. "I'll go now," he announced, trying to mask his disappointment. "I have to take care of the cat, give it to the animal shelter," he said, hoping this topic would prolong their conversation.

"I know..." she began the sentence immediately backing off from the rest of it.

The ex-SWAT smiled at the corner of his lips; he wasn't going to let it go. "Don't you know of any good place?" he asked completely casually.

"Hit, sunk," she thought as she looked at the floor and then at her feet. The perfectly played action enriched her with the information that Adam was looking for contact with her otherwise he would have gone home. Surely he would have ignored that broken-off sentence. "I have the place checked out, I'm taking Stalker there right away. My neighbor would probably take him, but I've already abused her hospitality. I'll write down the address for you…"

"Could we... go together?" he asked hesitantly like a teenager who wants to date a girl and doesn't dare to do so.

"Of course, it's no problem," she replied in line with what he wanted to hear. "Maybe in a quarter of an hour in front of my house?"

"Mhm sounds good. See you then," he said goodbye and headed for the door.

"Adam," she stopped him with that one word.

The man froze in place, said nothing but looked in her direction. Laura turned, her gaze meeting his gray-blue eyes. "Thank you," she said. She intertwined her fingers together breaking them off nervously. "And I agree to meet Rupert," she added in an uncertain voice.

"What are you thanking me for?" he suspected what was going on, but wanted to be sure.

"You know very well what for," she muttered.

"You have already thanked me. You don't have to..."

"I have to. I wanted to do it in person," she interrupted him firmly. "You saved my life, and I acted like an idiot."

"Laura, listen to me. I am not angry, I have no grudge against you. I did what I should and could. If it's just for me, you want this meeting, don't do it at all." Jensen left before the woman said anything. He was aware of how important what had taken place was to her. He felt it, so he couldn't stay. He couldn't stay because it was no less important to him.

Laura looked at her bandaged wrists. She should be realistic, after all, it was only blood, a simple life-saving measure. She couldn't dismiss the thought that she now had a piece of him circulating through her with every heartbeat. It was something special and magical, and at the same time, it was a curse. Wherever she went he would always be with her. Adam in his firmness reminded her of Joe, who used similar words. She knew he was right and there was concern behind the harshness, but still, it always ended in a big argument. She remembered that she was supposed to meet the ex-SWAT in a quarter of an hour, so she quickly put on jeans and a sweater, locked Stalker in a cage, then grabbed her jacket and left.

All chapters can be found: [AO3], [dA], [Wattpad] and [Tumblr]

#Deus Ex #DXHR #Deus Ex Human Revolution #Adam Jensen #Shadowfanfic #crunchy-shadow #Shadow's Showdown #Nifriel #I never asked for this #Fanfiction #Evie Dormer OC #Joe Mando OC #Cyberpunk #Writers on tumblr #Chapter 26: The Red Drop.

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