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hailbop1701 · 4 years ago

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Chapter Two: A Pale Horse

Chapter two is here guys! I'm so excited to see what you all think! Things are starting to heat up and they discover who Bones really is. Each chapter is going to be darker than the last so it's all down hill from here. I just want to say a big "THANK YOU!" to my wonderful beta @dw-writes you my dear are amazing and I truly appreciate you taking the time to do this for me.

- H ❤🖖

“Welcome to HELL,” Kirk whispered, a deep frown marring his face. As soon as McCoy drew his phaser Jim did the same.

“Bones…”

McCoy gritted his teeth; if his own personal ‘Red Alert’ wasn’t flashing before, it sure as hell was now. “We need to go,” McCoy said with finality, his searching eyes darting around the area.

Lieutenant Beckworth appeared on his other side, phaser raised, following McCoy’s movements. The three Ensigns behind them warily followed suit, raising their phasers much more slowly and unsure.

“Sir?” Ensign Bitar asked, perplexed. McCoy could smell the excitement and adrenaline pouring out of her. Kirk glanced over his shoulder at the young woman, giving her a little smile that looked more like a grimace.

“Don’t worry, Ms. Bitar, Bones is just being paranoid, as usual,” he offered in a teasing manner, trying to keep his people calm.

Leonard snorted humorlessly at his best friend’s words. “Oh yeah, the obvious sign in front of us has nothing to do with my paranoia, Captain,” he muttered dryly as they moved forward through the long entrance. ‘An Atrium,’ he observed as he took in every possible exit and vantage point.

‘Cameras; we’re being watched,’ McCoy took a deep steadying breath. Wrinkling his nose in distaste, he felt his stomach do a flip at the familiar smell: death and decay mixed with blood. “Jim I know you think I’m being paranoid here but we really need to go I’m not fucking kidding this time.”

Kirk looked at the CMO with pursed lips and careful eyes, after a second he nodded. “Okay Bones, we’ll go back and regroup.” The Captain pulled out his communicator and flipped it open. The thing chirped as he worked the dial. “Kirk to Enterprise. Come in Enterprise,” there was nothing but static.

Leonard cursed again under his breath.

“Oh no,” Ensign Lawrence squeaked, cringing at the glare Bitar gave him that clearly said, ‘Grow a pair’

A low amused feminine chuckle echoed throughout the room, it came from everywhere and nowhere. The giant screen that hung crookedly on the wall beside them buzzed and flickered to life. A figure sat lazily in a Captain’s chair; the image was too dark to see them clearly, but the silhouette made it clear that it was a woman.

“Jim!” McCoy hissed suddenly as the Captain moved steadily closer to the screen a good twenty feet away. Kirk held up his hand to reassure McCoy that he was alright and kept walking. Growling, Leonard strode purposely after him with his phaser at the ready.

Beckworth and his little gaggle turned so that their backs were covered. “I have a bad feeling about this, LT.” Lawrence hissed his voice pitching slightly.

“Shut it, Gabe,” Bitar growled out keeping her voice low.

“Both of you, can it!” Beckworth barked, not taking his eyes off the darkened corners of the room. Lawrence hummed nervously but kept a steady hand with his phaser as he scanned the room for any threats.

Chekov crept next to McCoy, his tool kit gently slapping against his hip, the strap digging uncomfortably against the kid’s neck. He had his phaser raised slightly but kept it pointed at the ground as Kirk walked ahead of him.

“Damn kids,” McCoy hissed. The nervous and foreboding energy crackling around him made his hair stand on end and his teeth itch. He split his senses apart: he kept his eyes on Kirk and the room before him, while he listened to what was behind him: Beckworth’s steady breaths, Lawrence’s hitched nervous gait, Bitar’s grinding teeth, she was gripping and regripping her phaser, and then, there was Chekov - the kid was mumbling in Russian, doing his best to keep calm. McCoy’s brow furrowed a little at his words, ‘Something about different plants and how to identify poisonous flora...he was reciting a botany textbook,’ he thought, a brief flash of amusement and approval coursed through him. ‘Whatever works kiddo,’ he thought as he watched Kirk come to an abrupt stop, staring up at the screen with wide eyes.

Following his gaze, McCoy couldn’t help but snort and roll his eyes. Kirk was practically salivating and Leonard had a strong urge to smack the man upside the head to get him to focus on the problem at hand. He didn’t but he really should’ve.

A beautiful Orion woman grinned wickedly down at them. She sat sprawled on what had to be a pilfered captain’s chair leaving nothing to the imagination; her curves were captured perfectly in the armor she wore. A phaser dangled from her fingers and rested on her inner thigh. The come hither look she shot him caused McCoy to raise an eyebrow, sure he loved a beautiful woman like the next guy. Most men (and in large cases women) would have been attracted to her. But he could only feel annoyance and disappointment. He could see under the beauty, down to her core. There was nothing there but a cold empty space, like a black hole but more crazy and sadistic.

Internally he practically sees Reaper poke and prod at the back of his mind wanting to take the reins on this one. Things weren’t right and Doctor Leonard McCoy wasn’t needed right now. Everything here already smelt dead and the away team was in way over their heads, if the warning bells in his head were anything to go by.

McCoy relaxed into a better stance and held himself like he used to, he practically melted into John Grimm again. His eyes were a touch colder, his walk more sure and graceful. Moving forward automatically Reaper stood slightly in front of Kirk and Chekov like an unmovable shield.

The scowl on his face became more and more pronounced the longer he and the woman stared at one another. Kirk looked back and forth between Reaper and the Orion woman, totally confused and in mild offense. She wasn’t interested in the starship captain what-so-fucking-ever.

The Orion chuckled again upon seeing Reaper’s darkening face. She leaned forward so she was in the light. Her face was as pleasant as the forests on Dakala; beautiful and completely deadly.* She was the hunter and they were the prey; they were right where she wanted them. She grinned wickedly before sighing, sounding almost bored. She looked at her phaser casually before she started speaking, her voice light and airy like a calm summer morning. “Your Earth history has a story. A story of four horsemen and one of them was death,” she drawled, amused by the tale she spun for them. Like a spider playing with her caught flies, the woman kept going, “He rode upon a pale horse bringing the peace and silence of death to all who oppose him,” she disappeared and the image of Enterprise filled the screen, pale in the light of the stars. Jim stiffened, an angry glint flashed in his ocean eyes before the look of shock and disbelief filled them.

Reaper felt the floor disappear beneath him; the air in his lungs left as if Sarge had come back and punched him in the stomach. The next set of images were all too familiar, they were of him but from so long ago.

“RRTS Unit Six: Full name Johnathan Leonard Grimm - Call-ID ‘Reaper’ - born October, 21st, 2017,” Kirk whipped his head around confusion coloring his face. The picture on the screen showed John in full gear, hair buzzed down, jaw set, and eyes void of emotion. The perfect soldier. “Bones? ” Jim’s voice was hushed so the others couldn’t hear him. Though they were looking at the screen with their own confused expressions. Jim sounded shaky and unnerved, no doubt he was being plagued by memories of Kahn.

John took a deep breath and turned his dark hazel eyes onto his best friend. “Sorry kid,” was all he could muster at the moment his usual southern drawl gone. He sounded almost defeated, he never wanted Jim to find out like this. Hell, he didn’t want the kid to find out at all if he could help it.

A flash of multiple emotions shot through Jim’s eyes before settling on a blank expression that would make a Vulcan proud.

The screen split down the middle showing two different starship bridges. One belonging to the Orion bitch (who was enjoying the drama unfolding in front of her immensely) and the bridge of the Enterprise. His crew, his friends, stared back at them - him - in shock, horror, and hurt confusion. All except for Spock of course he was doing his insufferable Sphynx impression again. Though his eyes spoke volumes; fascination, anger, and pity?

The Orion leaned forward licking her lips,

“I’ve caught myself a Reaper” she giggled almost bouncing up and down in her seat. John growled low, almost baring his teeth, but she seemed to love that.

“What do you want?” Kirk bellowed, throwing his hands up in the air, the phaser hand flying wildly. John tilted his head just enough to avoid being cuffed.

“A game Captain! It’s quite simple really; all you need to do for the sake of yourselves and your crew is to survive!” her voice was sickly sweet and patronizing like she was explaining to a five-year-old how to play a quick game of poker.

‘Yeah, she’s fucking insane,’ John thought dryly with no amusement.

Kirk glowered at the woman, “You seem to know who we are but we have no damn clue about you, so tell me before I come up with something unpleasant,”

The Orion smirked and leaned back. Crossing her legs she pouted for a second in thought, she was weighing the pros and cons of having her name out there it seems. After a moment of deliberation, she waved a hand at the muffled warning coming from the background. “Call me Veera.” Veera’s eyes slid from Kirk over to John again, a predatory stare if there ever was one. Sighing he stepped forward so he was a few feet in front of the group “I’m sure you have almost everything figured out, don’t you John?” she murmured knowingly.

Reaper’s jaw clenched at the use of his birth name, “I imagine you blocked us off, no transporter, no direct contact with the Enterprise. Other than what you got set up and I reckon that you put more than just us through this little game of yours. How many are watching Veera?” he let his southern drawl color his voice again.

The woman clapped slowly at his little assessment, she nodded her head approvingly “I activated a jamming device just after you teleported onboard, the holovid the Enterprise and my little collection of misfits are being streamed, is through the station itself. And yes you’re right, you’re not the only ones to play. I had to test and test and test before I could let you find me!”

“The missing ships,” Jim hissed in realization, his fists clenched and he visibly shook with anger.

Veera shrugged nonchalantly, “They were such a bore! They lost way too easily but I suppose it gave us more time to play around with that serum of yours. You do remember C-24 right, John?”

Reaper almost choked at her words, the horror on his face was abundantly clear for everyone who had eyes on him. They were either grinning madly or filled with dread and concern. He did his best to calm his breathing, the panic attack that had been looming in the back of his mind was bubbling to the surface.

Jim may have been angry at him and wanted answers but he still stepped closer holding a hand out just above John’s shoulder, “Bones breathe,”

Veera mockingly pouted, “Those memories of yours must be awful, I’ve read every report the - oh what were they called - the UAC had on you, and honey it was delicious. How many did you kill to keep your blood away from them? How many did you slaughter when you found your sister and her family slaughtered in their beds?”

There were several gasps from spectators. John’s blood boiled and he burned like he was being raked over hot coals. Jim’s jaw dropped and his eyes grew sad before he covered it up again knowing that he hated pity. He didn’t dare look at the others or at the Enterprise crew, their emotions were clear by the tense silence. Veera giggled again, her white teeth glowed in the dim light of her ship as she grinned madly.

Reaper’s hands clenched into fists, his whole body shaking, something must have flashed in his eyes because Jim stepped away from him, motioning for the others to do the same. Veera chuckled darkly and tilted her head as she listened to someone off-screen.

She hummed excitedly “I’ve left you a little something to help you, and you’re going to need it, John. These creatures are much more different from what you remember. They will infect anyone and every one good or bad and they are oh so hungry,” And with that, the screen faded to black.

John sucked in a breath pushing back whatever he was feeling into a box and locked it away. ‘Grieve for this life later, you have a job to do’ he thought sadly. His eyes scanned the room and immediately found a crate lying off to the side on an information desk. Striding over to it John quickly tore open the lid sending it sailing across the room. Someone cursed behind him in surprise, he ignored the small group as he looked through the crate of supplies.

“You’re actually trusting that crazy bitch? What if she rigged the stuff?” Lawrence asked incredulously.

Beckworth appraised Reaper with a new outlook before shaking his head, “Nah she wants him to play too much. Wants to draw out the game not shorten it,”

John pulled out four tac vests with a grumble, looking over at Kirk he shook his head, “Get that neon sign off,” he indicated to his command gold. Jim wasn’t entirely sure what he was more surprised by the order itself or that he automatically followed it without question. “You too kid,” John mumbled, shooting Chekov an apologetic look. The young Russian scrambled in setting his things down so he could yank off his overshirt.

“Damn I’m happy I wore pants for this shit,” Bitar grumbled as she and two others from security shucked their colored shirts. Reaper huffed a humorless laugh, walking over to Jim he helped the captain into the vest securing it before moving on to Chekov. Freezing for a moment John cocked his head to the side, he could hear pounding footsteps and inhuman screams; they were getting closer by the second. Cursing he pulled off his blue shirt, tossing it to the side. He grabbed a kit belt from the crate and swung it around his hips. Tucking his phaser away for later John pulled out a few old-fashioned projectile weapons.

Shaking his head John loaded the belt with everything he could fit. Lieutenant Beckworth was working on doing the same thing. Checking over a replicated desert eagle Reaper glanced over his shoulder before hurrying in his movements.

“You know something we don’t, again?” Jim asked ice coating his tone. John in his hurried movements almost forgot how pissed off Kirk still was. The man hid it well. The others froze but John kept going letting the coldness waft over him.

“They’re coming and we really shouldn’t be here when they do,” was all he said clipping a couple of grenades to his belt.

“Vhose coming?” Chekov asked quietly it was the first time in while the kid spoke, his voice was cautious, fear only just breaking the surface.

Reaper’s forehead scrunched a memory floating to the surface. “Well the first time I faced these things, a man from my unit called them demons. He was the god fearin’ type,” he muttered in explanation. That made Kirk grimace and Chekov wince as if he regretted asking. John shoved a second knife into his boot and clipped another to his belt on his hip. The last thing he pulled from the crate made him pause and mutter a string of curses under his breath. In his hands sat an old, yet new rifle.

“Damn,” he shook his head ruefully hating the fact that he missed its weight in his hands.

“Old friend?” Jim asked sourly making John wince ever so slightly.

“You could say that,” he mumbled.

John placed his finger over the scanner and felt as his chest tightened as it rang out, “Former RRTS member verified, Call sign ‘Reaper,’”

He looked over at Jim who held another rifle in his hands, something newer and sleeker. They watched each other carefully, a silent conversation taking place between them.

“We’ll talk about this later,”

Reaper whipped his head around seconds before a door on the other end of the atrium burst open with a shattering crash. The others jumped in surprise,

“Move!” John shouted, pushing them ahead. They ran the length of the Atrium toward a set of glass doors that led to the rest of the station.

“What the fuck are those?” Kirk shouted looking over his shoulder briefly as he ran with John just behind him and Chekov urging them forward.

“As I said, demons!” was all John shouted pushing the two bridge officers through the sliding open glass doors.

John whipped around and fired his rifle. In quick accurate bursts, the screaming creatures fell; he stayed long enough for the others to rush past him before flying through the doors himself. John elbowed the door controls causing the red lights to flare, heavy metal blast doors slammed home just as the demons crashed into the glass.

Jim looked up from his bent position, “What the hell were those?” he asked panting.

Reaper grimaced. “Those were- they were people once before they got infected with a compound called C-24. It’s basically - it’s an extra chromosome essentially,” he groaned at more than one confused face. Running a hand through his hair John moved forward further into what looked to be one of the main shopping areas. ‘Damn malls,’ he thought with a grumble.

“But you were injected by this C-24 da?” Chekov curiously asked, trying to keep the hint of wariness from his voice. John flinched but nodded at the young navigator, “Back when it was first discovered C-24 chose who became a monster or who became - eh superhuman I guess. Healing is fifty percent quicker, strength, moving faster, and unfortunately, aging is...slow,”

John stopped eyeing the vast area critically, “This version of C-24 is twisted beyond comprehension and that’s saying something,” he whispered and gestured for the others to keep quiet as well. John looked to the side allowing one of his ears to face the shopping center.

Taking a deep breath he filtered the sounds around him, he ignored the erratic heartbeats of the team behind him, and the crunch of glass under their boots as they shifted and walked. The faint sound of sleepy growls and snorts made John purse his lips, it was pretty far off to immediately worry about. ‘Best to keep an eye out anyway,’ he thought biting the inside of his cheek.

“Superhuman, does that mean hearing as well?” Bitar asked incredulously catching onto what John was doing.

The man looked at her a bit sheepishly, he opened his mouth to respond but the Captain interrupted with: “Wait a minute super hearing? Does that mean during the academy…”

John chuckled dryly “Oh yeah, every time. Why do you think I started carrying earbuds with me everywhere I damn went?”

Kirk blanched looking mortified “So you- oh no,” he whispered mostly to himself before laughing nervously at John’s little crooked smirk.

Reaper jerked his head in the direction of the railway system. “Come on Dynamo,” he snorted, making Kirk go completely red in the face out of embarrassment. Lawrence and Chekov snorted covering their laughter with little coughs.

“So I’m guessing you hear all the gossip, McCoy?” Beckworth asked amused, both Chekov and Lawrence became quiet.

John rolled his eyes calling the tram, “Yeah, not very creative if I’m going to be completely honest,”

Jim choked on a laugh remembering what they called McCoy on the ship and in the academy, “Some of those nicknames aren’t legal on most planets I think,” he pointed out smirking. John just scowled at his best friend - well, hopefully, they were still best friends anyway. He didn’t really want to think about that right now, the thought that he might have to leave the Enterprise hurt enough as it was.

----------oOo----------

The tram hummed and slid to an easy stop, moving in front of the group John readied his weapon and listened. No movement, no snarling, and no stench of death, they were clear. The doors hissed open just as he lowered his rifle to point at the ground. The only thing John could smell was faint traces of blood and dry air.

“Clear,” Beckworth confirmed coming up to stand beside him.

John had to silently applaud the man, he stepped up without hesitation. He wasn’t deterred by what they were up against nor was he rattled by the revelation of who “Leonard McCoy” really was. He had a job to do, and he was going to damn well do it. John nodded to Henry as he entered the tram, double and triple-checking to make sure it was safe for the others. Bitar and Lawrence followed suit while Beckworth stuck with the Captain and Chekov. They were the most important of the away team, that didn’t change.

Chekov scurried over to the tram controls and grimaced. The conductor's seat was smeared with blood; enough blood to convince the young navigator that whoever worked here was surely dead. Pavel jumped when a hand gently landed on his shoulder.

“You okay kid?” John asked softly, his eyes showed so many emotions but the ones that stuck out to Chekov the most was- understanding, pain, grief, and steely determination.

Swallowing hard Pavel squared his shoulders and nodded, “Da, I’m alright,” he whispered. John looked at him for a long few seconds before nodding and squeezing his shoulder.

“Bring up a map of the base if ya can. We need to see what we’re working with and the best way to get out,” John said letting his southern twang color his voice, it had its desired effect as Chekov relaxed further. The kid hummed as he worked at the console, muttering to himself about equations and formulas. John drifted back to where the rest of the away team sat. They were in a heated discussion about their plan of action. John leaned against one of the handrails silently listening to the debate. Jim was in charge of course, but the young Captain valued the opinions of his crew.

“We need to take down the jammer so we can beam the hell out of here,” Ensign Bitar said, arms crossed, the girl was terrified. John was rather impressed at how well she was hiding it.

Lawrence sat hunched over in one of the plastic seats head in his hands. He was continuously pulling at his hair. “How are we going to do that when we don’t know where the hell it is?” he groaned tilting his head up at the young woman. Bitar scowled at him but otherwise said nothing. Beckworth leaned back with a heavy sigh, he looked to be deep in thought. John’s gaze moved to Kirk, the kid was pacing back and forth muttering under his breath. Jim was working on a plan, and just because it was him it was going to be crazy.

Growling in frustration Jim stopped in front of John, “Got any ideas?” he asked bitingly.

John chewed on the inside of his cheek, “Chekov is working on getting us a map, so we know what we’re dealing with. I think our best bet is to either make our way to the base's bridge or to engineering.” he said with a shrug. Kirk opened his mouth but snapped it shut again,

“The bridge will give us all the information that we need. It being a starbase means it will also be connected to operations.” Jim mused running a hand through his hair. John nodded slowly,

“Genesis is also connected to Marcus and Section 31 so along the way we’ll most likely find a lot of classified information. You being Captain of the fleet’s flagship also means that you’re would technically be under orders to retrieve all classified data and bring it back to HQ,” John let the unsaid “Including me,” hang in the air. The silence was almost deafening. Bitar looked down at her feet, Lawrence bit his nails nervously, and Beckworth frowned but ready to do whatever his Captain asked of him. Jim’s jaw clenched and he shook his head in denial,

“You got that map, Chekov?” John asked without having to turn to see the navigator enter the room.

Pavel sniffed, clearing his throat, “Da, I have the map of the station. I was also able to determine which areas are safe and which are breached.” Chekov handed the PADD over to John who gave the young man a tight smile of thanks.

He showed the device to Jim who began to swipe through it for a clear path to the station's bridge. “Shit,” he muttered, brows furrowed in frustration. The only clear path to the bridge was through what would most likely be the most populated areas.

John growled and cursed colorfully under his breath, in all honesty, he wasn’t surprised. “You don’t look, surprised Doctor,” Beckworth noted gruffly. All eyes snapped to the Enterprises CMO.

The man gave a shrug and spoke without looking up from the PADD in his hands. “Veera is a psychopath, an extremely smart one at that. She wouldn’t have let us near Genesis if this place wasn’t ready for us. She would have planned all of this to the very last detail,” He took and held up the PADD showing the map and raised an eyebrow at everyone, “This will give her audience somethin’ to watch. Chekov how easy was it to get this map?”

The navigator shifted uneasily, “I didn’t have to do anything, it was already downloaded onto the PADD,” he whispered, eyes wide.

“In order to win the game, we have to play the game,” Kirk muttered, taking the PADD back from John. The ex-marine scowled at the thought, he knew Jim was right but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Kirk looked at him grimly, “Looks like you have to put on a show Bones.”

John’s scowl deepened, he looked up at the obvious camera in the corner of the tram car. Flipping it off, John quickly pulled his handgun and shot the offending piece of tech. The rest of the group yelled covering their ears against the crack of the gunshot. Placing his sidearm back John snorted, “I’m just a regular ol’ show pony,”

Tags:

Everything: @thottiewithashotgun, @lauraaan182, @writerdee1701,@stileslover13-blog, @cowenby2, @bluesclues-1234

Hollow Castle: @chook007, @lauranthalasah

#star trek aos #Doom 2005 #Doom!Trek #leonard mccoy #leonard bones mccoy #leonard mccoy is john grimm #john reaper grimm #john grimm #hailey the queen of typos #hollow castle #The Four Horsmen Series #reaper!bones #james kirk #pavel chekov #redshirts #Welcome to HELL

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whump-me-all-night-long · 4 years ago

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The Scoop of a Lifetime - 19

Whumptober Day 19 - BROKEN HEARTS

Tagging: @mnmlover2002, @cupcakes-and-pain, @lave-e, @appy-polly-loggies, let me know if you want to be added/removed!

Whew, this chapter.. kind of got away from me, both in length and content. It’s almost double my usual length, and it’s pretty rough. Heed the CWs and stay safe guys!

CW: suicidal thoughts (in the “I’d rather be dead than have to go through this, why couldn’t I have died?” vein), violent death, gun violence, blink-and-you-miss-it noncon implication, threats, reference to past torture, previous injuries, Devin has a pretty unhealthy mindset throughout this chapter, please let me know if I missed anything!

Masterlist // Previous

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Once they were settle back in their room - they’d stopped trying to convince themself it wasn’t theirs - Devin simply laid on the bed, their ankles wrapped tightly and elevated by a few pillows. They stared up at the ceiling, trying not to think. And failing.

Is this really going to be the rest of my life? Being tossed around and hurt, depending on Wildre’s every whim? How long can I actually survive like this? How long will I actually want to survive like this?

Their thoughts restless and dark, they must’ve fallen asleep eventually because at some point Wildre was knock, knock, knocking on their door, his much too cheerful for this early in the morning voice ringing through the door. “Good morning, love! It’s time to get up! I’ve got a fun activity planned for today!”

Devin dragged a hand across their face with a soft groan, before pulling themself out of bed, forgetting about their ankles until they tried to stand. They had to quickly sit back down on the edge, slowly moving their ankles to stretch them out as much as they could. Every morning, they seemed to have to re-remember that i’m crippled i’ll never be the same as i was before he’s hurt me for the rest of my life what had happened.

They shakily stood back up, swaying slightly and grimacing at the pain but gradually making their way to the bathroom, stopping to grab a change of clothes from their wardrobe.

Once inside, they quickly stripped off the clothes they’d fallen asleep in and the braces, dropping the clothing on the floor and carefully setting the braces on the sink counter before stepping carefully into the shower. They stayed under the steady stream of hot water as long as they dared before shutting it off and drying themself off. They squeezed the water out of their hair, making sure it wasn’t dripping and that it was out of their face before pulling the plain, long sleeved t-shirt and blue jeans on, refastening the ankle braces on before giving themself a cursory look over in the mirror, frowning slightly at the deep shadows beneath their eyes.

They sat down on the bed to loosely lace up a pair of sneakers before running a hand through their hair and pulling open the door, unsurprised to find Duncan waiting for them.

They silently followed him down the hall, until they reached a room they thought was on a lower section of the house but weren’t completely sure, Duncan motioning them through the door.

Cautiously, they stepping through, their eyes quickly taking in a small underground parking garage filled with more cars than any one person could ever need, with multiple tunnels leading out in different directions.

Wildre was standing by one of the cars, perking up immediately and calling out, “Oh, Devin, love, there you are! I was worried you’d gotten lost.”

Devin and Duncan made their way over to him, going at a slow pace due to the former. Once they reached the car, Wildre easily opened the backseat door for Devin and, as they slid in, he tossed something to Duncan before climbing in afterwards.

Duncan sat down in the driver’s seat and started the car. Devin took a deep breath, feeling slightly i can’t breathe they’re trapping me in i have no space surrounded with Duncan in front of them and Wildre next to them.

The car started to move as soon as everyone had done their seat belts, quietly humming beneath them, and although Devin knew nothing about cars, they could tell this one was definitely expensive. It drove through one of the tunnels, lights flashing above them as they passed. The car was deathly silent, so Devin settled for staring out the window, watching the concrete walls fly past.

After a while, Devin would have to guess around fifteen or twenty minutes, although they’d never been good at estimating time, the car seemed to pull into another similar miniature parking garage, this one with less fancy cars in it. They stopped and Wildre turned to face Devin, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Now, love,” he started and they immediately began tensing up, “I’m about to bring you on a little trip, okay?” They bristled at how he spoke to them as if they were a child but they slowly nodded. “You might see some things, and they might not be pretty, but-” He reached out and grabbed their jaw firmly, but not painfully, forcing them to meet his gaze- “it is crucial that you keep your mouth shut. Am I understood?”

They nodded, licking their lips nervously before saying softly, “Yeah, I-I understand.”

He smiled, and Devin hated how that made them almost relax. “Good.” He opened the door and, once he stood, reached back a hand for Devin and they accepted, leaning on him more heavily than they’d like to admit.

Once they were all out, they fell into a formation, with Wildre in the lead, Devin a step or two behind him and to the side, and Duncan bringing up the rear. They headed for a door along one of the walls, a keypad locking it. Wildre punched in a long code before pulling what looked like an ID badge out and swiping it. The light on it turned green, and the door swung open slightly.

Walking through it, the three were greeted with what looked like receptionist’s area that wouldn’t look out of place in a downtown office building. A young woman sitting at the desk glanced up at them then did a double take as she spotted Wildre.

Standing up, she brushed nonexistent wrinkles out of her clothes. “Mr. Wildre,” she greeted, glancing discreetly at a clock hanging on the wall. “We, uh, we weren’t expecting you for another hour, sir.” She took in Devin with a narrowed gaze. “And we weren’t expecting a, a guest,” she added, tone as if she thinks i’m a threat as if i would voluntarily have anything to do with him decidedly less friendly.

He smiled and waved a hand towards Devin. “Oh, Devin? They’re harmless.” She seemed to melt under his paparazzi grin, and Devin flushed, biting down on their lip to keep quiet. “And I enjoy showing up early. What can I say?” he said with a laugh and careless shrug.

The woman nodded before gesturing to one of the doors behind her. “Well, Mr. Westhaven is in the warehouse right now, getting ready to send out a shipment.”

Wildre gave her a nod and another smile, before taking Devin by the arm and marching them towards the door she had indicated. He had to enter another code and swipe his badge again before they were standing at the top of a stairwell, looking down on a bustling warehouse, filled with large crates and loud machinery that looked disconcertingly normal.

Leading Devin down the stairs, Wildre looked around the busy area, Devin’s ankles protesting at the i can’t keep up please slow down i’m in so much pain harsh movements. Once they reached the bottom, he made a beeline for an older man who seemed to be at the center of the chaos. As they passed, workers began recognizing Wildre and growing quiet.

By the time they had reached the other man, the warehouse had become nearly silent, every eye on them. Devin felt heat creep up their neck as they felt eyes landing on them and tried to subtly shrink into Wildre’s side, a fact that, while he clearly noticed, evident by the smug grin on his face, he thankfully did not comment on. The older man turned around and, seeing them, gave a huge grin.

“Mr. Wildre!” he called, and Devin was surprised to see such an older man, he had to be in his fifties or sixties, call Wildre “Mr.”

He responded with a small wave. “Westhaven. How’s this shipment progressing?”

The man chuckled. “Very good, sir. Running smoothly. What brings you by so early?” While he portrayed the picture of ease, Devin could see that he was scrambling by the sudden appearance of his boss and, judging by the gleam in his eye, Wildre saw it too.

“Oh, just wanted to see it in action. I do miss being part of the day to day activities sometimes. It’s not nearly as fun being stuck in a stuffy office all day.” He saw Westhaven’s eyes turn towards Devin, neatly tucked between Wildre and Duncan, and grinned, wrapping an easy arm around them. “Although it does come with its benefits.”

Devin stiffened almost imperceptibly at the he’s touching me stop don’t touch me like that please get away but that man is staring at me like that i don’t like that possessiveness in the gesture, but Westhaven seemed to get the message and easily changed the subject.

“I can see that. We’re just finishing loading the last of the crates before we send them off-”

At that moment, shouting erupted from one of the many doors throughout the huge room, and Devin’s eyes widened as a man staggeringly ran out. They had to grit their teeth so they wouldn’t disobey what he told me to do he told me to be quiet cry out when they realized the man was littered with cuts and bruises, some still leaking blood.

Wildre exchanged a look with Duncan and shifted slightly, so Devin was more blocked from view. The man, catching sight of the movement, locked onto Wildre and charged towards them. “You! You bastard, how dare you-”

Devin would never know what he was going to say because at that moment, Wildre pulled out a gun he seemed to keep concealed, tucked away inside his jacket, and fired it, the bullet punching smoothly through the man’s skull, all in one smooth motion.

Devin jerked back from the sudden spray of blood, not quite believing what they were seeing, a hand clasped over their mouth to keep from sobbing or screaming, they didn’t know which, as their gaze locked onto the growing pool of crimson only feet away.

As they were slowly lead away, brought into another room, one that looked like a typical boardroom, and placed in a chair sandwiched between Wildre and Duncan, their gaze remained far away, stuck on the way the man’s body had continued propelling himself forward for just another second before being unnaturally jerked backwards, the desperation and raw hatred in his eyes, and just one thought kept running throughout their head.

Why couldn’t Wildre have put that bullet in me?

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vesuvian-american-fics · 4 years ago

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The Murders in York New Morgue Ch 3 Final

Gore

The final chapter, and Feitan’s first kill.

TRIGGER WARNING: BLOOD MENTION, DEATH MENTION, MURDER

(AO3)

Words: 1,418

“It’s raining Mr. Librarian. You know what that means, don’t you?” You cooed, reveling in the way the man’s lips curled into a soft smile at what was to happen next.

“...Yes.” He responded, moving closer to you, lifting his chin up to get a better look at you. You smirked before heading out of the damp alleyway without another word. You listened to Feitan's hurried footsteps splashing in the puddles to follow diligently behind you.

“You need to prove yourself to me, love. I’m trusting you.” You spoke with a lilt of amusement rolling off of your tongue.

“I’ll prove myself.” He said quietly but with an air of determination, watching your back as you lead him back towards the city.

You chuckled and shook your head before looking over at the man behind you, mischief in your eyes.

“I wonder about that.” Feitan quirked his brow in confusion at your words but chose not to respond. No matter what you threw at him, he made a promise to himself to fulfill his duty without question just to show you how serious he was.

The rain was picking up heavily, you sauntered off into a coffee shop near the heart of the city and sat in a corner booth while waiting for your hot drink. Feitan watched closely as your eyes scanned over the patrons in the shop. Just as your drink arrived, the perfect man walked to the counter.

He was a large man by your standers, around six feet in height, roughly 200 pounds if you had to guess. Rugged, a five o’clock shadow on his chiseled face. Thick brows pinched together in a frown.

“Seems like he’s having a rough day.” You said nonchalantly, nodding your head in the direction of the man. Feitan, inconspicuously turned to survey the man you were speaking of. He looks impatient, giving the poor barista a hard time with his complicated order.

“He’s our guy don’t you think?” You cooed, rubbing your foot playfully against the librarian’s shin beneath the table, making him blush faintly. Feitan spluttered when the man looked in your direction, he quickly averted his eyes as to not look suspicious but you held his stare.

The stranger looked you up and down, his eyes landing on your lips as you wet them with your tongue. He smirked before snatching his scone and americano from the frazzled baristas. He gave you a nod as he left from the shop, tasting his drink he scowled at the flavor before tossing it to the ground.

You sighed. A litterer deserves what's coming to him.

“Come now.” You said, swiftly leaving the shop and bidding farewell to your waitress on the way, thanking them for the drink. Silently Feitan chased after you. It didn’t take long for you to find your prey again, speed walking down the sidewalk as other pedestrians moved out of the way for him.

You rolled your eyes at the sight; you couldn’t wait to sink your teeth into that fellow. You quickly caught up to the man, caressing the back of his neck with your delicate touch. He whipped around ready to curse whoever it was but he recognized your face from the coffee shop. He found you hot.

“Oh! Ha, it's you!” He said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“You following me or something?” He chuckled to himself, feeling just a tad unnerved but he pushed those feelings down. If you were down for a quick lay this weekend, he wasn’t going to give that up.

“Yes, I am.” You said in a sultry voice, linking your arm around his much larger one. Feitan was hot on your heels, staring holes into the back of the man’s head. He didn’t like him. He was rude and cocky, and he was anticipating his death greatly. The man gave a hearty laugh to mask his minor anxiety, you surely were forward.

“What’s your name, doll?” You said, wrapping his arm around your waist, rubbing small circles into the fabric of your coat.

“No need for that, just let me have you for the evening.” You whispered sensually. The man’s anxiety was replaced with pure primal desire. Your voice was like an aphrodisiac, working its way into his system. He gave you a devilish smirk and began to lead you toward his apartment before you stopped him, pulling him towards an alley.

He was confused, but allowed you to pull him roughly inside, blinded by lust.

“Hasty, are we? Here of all places? You’re naughty, aren't you?” He scolded smugly.

“You’ll have to be punished for your impatience.” He gave you a harsh spank on the ass, that secretly revolted you but he’ll be paying the price for that very soon you thought.

“I’m more of the punishing type actually, sir.” You faked a moan as his suckled onto your neck, holding him flush against your form.

The plan was explained to Feitan simply. You seduce the man, as you did with many other victims in the past, and while he’s distracted, you’ll give a signal for Feitan to come finish the job. Afterwards you won’t help him much at all, this will be his test to prove himself worthy.

He was nervous of course; he’s only ever dreamt of doing something like this. He worried he may hesitate, but even still, he was going to will himself forward. He did say he’d do anything for you, and he was sure this would happen one day.

Your over-exaggerated moans seemed to please the man, he groped and palmed over your body, every inch that he could reach, while his face was buried deep in your hair, inhaling your scent. Roses.

Behind his back, you called for Feitan, doing a “come hither” motion with your fingers. He inched forward knife stiff in his hands, gripping so hard his knuckles turned an even whiter shade than normal. The crazed look in his eyes caused you to moan, a genuine one this time, and that heavenly sound seemed to spur Feitan on.

He rushed in, stabbing the man right in the middle of his back. You quickly covered the man’s mouth so his cries of pain wouldn’t be heard out on the street, though hardly any people were out at this hour anymore.

Thick tears stung his eyes and blurred his vision, a ringing blaring in his ears as he felt his back grow warm with the spilled blood. He legs gave out from under him causing him to fall hard onto the unforgiving concrete. The stab must have hit the perfect nerve in his spine because this large man never fought back, he seemed to go limp underneath you. You straddled him as Feitan positioned the knife to finish the job.

You watched as the life began to drain from his eyes, and you made Feitan watch as well. Just as his vision lost its focus and all hints of life melted away, his phone rang in his coat pocket. You pulled it out and looked at the caller ID.

The screen read “Wife”, and showed her picture. You laughed lightly before shaking your head in disappointment at the man beneath you.

“Naughty, naughty. You had a wife?” You tutted, before removing yourself from his body. Feitan helped you to stand, his blood stand hands holding yours firmly.

“He deserved it.” He reassured, a look of disdain on his face as he looked down to the corpse.

“Of course.” You smiled, holding the librarian's chin, swiping your thumb under his lips, watching his features soften up as he gazed up to you.

“You proved yourself well, I’ll let you be my new toy.” Feitan’s eyes lit up at the praise before you continued.

“But your work was sloppy, I don’t want my name on it, so no black rose. We’ll work on that later, but for now. You’re mine.” You kissed him harshly, crashing your lips together in a feverish kiss. Feitan wanted nothing more than you deepen it, his tongue licking your bottom lip to beg for entrance. Entrance which you denied, you bit his bottom lip, drawing blood before pulling away and evacuating the scene.

Feitan felt like he was in a dream, a dazed look melting across his face, he looked so happy and it took your breath away. What is this guy? Your soulmate or something?

“Feitan, are you happy you’re mine?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“More than anything.”

#feitan #feitan portor #hxh #hunter x hunter #fic #the murders in york new morgue #tw #blood mention #death mention #murder #trigger warning

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jj-lynn21 · 4 years ago

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Cozy Cove: Old wounds

Previous in Cozy Cove: Saved by an Angel , A side of tits with your pancakes, Fires Burn Ho , Spending the Nights, Learning and Loving, The end id not always the end, Axel Grease , Big Decisions, Sex and Jet Skis, Late night fun , Old Wounds , Storms pass, Dangerous Waters

Warnings: smut talk, very angsty, talk of a parent leaving children, fear of alcohol abuse.

A silver of afternoon bright sunshine snakes its way through where the blackout curtains come together. It beamed right on to still sleeping Axel and Susie. She further buries her face in Axel’s chest.

He snorts covering his eyes with his free hand. The other resting on her back, “Close the curtain, baby girl.”

Susie whines without moving.

“I got it Mr. Axel,” Carol whispered. “Rest as long as you need, I will clean quietly.”

“Thanks, Carol,” Axel mumbled. “Put coffee on?”

“Of course, Sir,” She picked up some cloths on the floor and put them in his dirty cloths basket to go do laundry.

A half hour later, the couple woke slowly to the smell of coffee. Susie stretched rolling to her other side. Axel kissed her shoulder softly before getting up, grabbing some cloths and heading to the shower. The hot water felt amazing as he stood there with his head down, palms flat against the wall, as the water beats over him.

The door slides open for Susie to get in with him. She wraps her arms around him and lays on his back. Axel stands. He turns towards her smiling down as droplets of water tumble off his hair, down his nose to the tip of hers.

“How are you doing this morning Babe?” He grabs a shampoo bottle squirting some in his palm. “Turn around.” He starts to wash her hair.

Susie turned closing her eyes as she leaned her head back a bit for Axel to wash her hair. “I’m a little sort, Daddy.” She muttered.

Axel grinned, “Not when anyone is in the house Babe. That little game is between you and me. Would you like to have an interview for that mechanics job you want? We can make it like a game.” He rinses her hair and adds conditioner combing it out gentle.

“Yes, I would love that.” She smiles wide keeping her eyes shut as Axel rinses her hair. “Only I don’t think of that as a game, Axel. An interview with any company is to be taken seriously.”

“Maybe you are always to Serious Susie Q, but I guess I will find that out in a few hours.” He washes every part of her.

Susie giggles, “I am perfectly capable of washing myself, Axel.”

“I know,” he smiled. “I just like to take care of you if it is alright?”

“I guess it’s fine,” She turned as he rinsed her with the handheld shower head.

“Now go get a nice sundress on,” He opened the back of the shower door. “I believe Carol has coffee, donuts, and fruit for us to have for breakfast. She always has good treats when she comes to clean.”

He stays in the shower to wash when she gets out. She does what he tells her without a second thought. Her only thoughts were how nice it felt for him to get her clean and of course, coffee. When Susie ventures out to the kitchen she saw to coffee mugs, a basket of fruit and box. On further inspection she looks in the clear window at the top of the box to see a myriad of donut holes in a variety of flavors.

Carol rushes over to pour her some coffee, “Good morning Miss. Do you like the flavored creamer that is in the refrigerator?”

“Thank you, Carol,” She smiles. “I would like the creamer. You can call me Susie.”

“Sure thing, Miss Susie.” She gets the creamer and pours it until Susie holds her hand up to stop.

Axel Comes out in Camo board shorts drying his hair with a towel. As soon as Carol sees him, she pours his coffee, adds a little sugar to it before starting back to straighten up the bedroom.

“Thank you, Carol,” Axel yells after her. “We will be out of your hair for a few hours after breakfast.”

“You are welcome Mr. Axel,” She rambled, “You need to eat more. You are to thin.”

“If you say so Carol.” Axel laughed, “Carol has been the family housekeeper as long as I can remember. She also took care of me and my brother Josh when my mom,” He looked down fidgeting with his fingers before taking a sip of coffee. “When she left us.” He popped a sprinkle covered donut hole in his mouth.

“I’m sorry, Axel.” Susie took his hand from across the table. “Can I ask what happened? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.”

Axel shrugged, “I was about thirteen and saw how my Mom was kind of flirty with guys other than my Dad. It was disgusting. I think her leaving was the best thing that ever happened to him. But he was pretty pissed when I told him that.

“Josh was only eight. He cried a lot for a few weeks as far I remember. He needed a Mother. Carol tried her best to fill the void. Eric was trying to get a degree in something when she left. I can’t remember what. I just remember he came home on break and never went back. Dad was disappointed. I was happy. My mom couldn’t embarrass me when she hit on my teachers.” He popped another donut hole.

Susie ate a strawberry cream filled and sipped her coffee not sure what to say. Her parents never seemed to notice anyone else but each other. And they could sometimes be amorous in public which was embarrassing for her. It was embarrassing for her now. It was ten times worse when she was thirteen. But She didn’t think it was nearly as embarrassing as Axel’s situation.

“How about we take a walk on the beach,” He sighed. “The ocean air always clears my head in the morning. Then I’ll take you to the garage to do that interview. I don’t think you are dressed correctly for an interview, but I’ll let that slide since I told you what to wear and you look fine as Hell.”

“I guess it pays to know the owner,” She giggled. “If you give me the mechanics job,” She picked up another donut hole licking the glaze off before slowing sucking it into your mouth to eat. “I’ll give you another kind of job.”

“Hell no,” Axel got up. “That would be sexual harassment Miss. We don’t play with rules laid out against such things at my garage. That is the worst interview tactic you can have in this day and age, Susie Q. I hope that isn’t your usual interview technique.”

She blushes, “No, of course not Axel. I was just kind of joking.”

“I take my business serious,” He leans down to her ear. “Also fuck jobs. So, one does not mix with the other. Unless my girlfriend wants to suck my cock during my break.” He grins. “Let’s go.”

They walk out down the back stairs to the beach. The sun is blazing. The farther they walk the more sun bathers and families liter the beach with their towels, blankets, chairs and umbrellas. Axel and Susie ignore it all as they walk together silently for a while.

“Axel,” Susie keeps walking with him as they talk.

“Yeah?” He picks her hand up to kiss it gentle. Some waves splash over their feet.

“I’m sorry your Mother left you when you needed her.” She squeaked out quietly.

“I never needed shit from her,” Axel grumbled. A small tear escaped his right eye. “I just feel bad for Josh. Him being upset was worse than her leaving. But we all got over it. No use talking about her anymore, alright?”

“Okay,” Susie leaned on him as he put his arm around her shoulders. “Just know I’ll listen if you ever need too...”

“I won’t, so just drop it,” he growled before taking a deep breath to calm down. “Let’s grab a pineapple rum slushy at the snack house. Then walk back to get the bike. You have an important interview in about an hour.”

“Your right; I do.” Susie Beamed. “Should I be drinking before my interview?”

“These aren’t very strong,” He gets up to the outdoor counter. “Can we get two spiked pineapple slushies?”

“Sure thing, Axel,” The counter person said. “I am bringing my viper in for a tune up tomorrow. Will you be working?”

“No, I’m off this weekend, Dwayne but Danny is excellent.” Axel praises his worker. “He will have your motorcycle running perfectly when he is done.”

“Cool man, thanks.” Dwayne hands them their drinks.

“Thanks for keeping everyone cool with these drinks,” Axel raises his drink to Dwayne before walking off with Susie.

They walked back on the edge of the even more crowded beach and ocean entrance. They had drunk their slushies by the time they got to his motorcycle.

“I haven’t walked the beach to get a slushy since I was a kid,” Axel smiled. “Of course, in those days I didn’t get the extra kick. Not that this has much of a kick.” He got on his ride. “Let’s go baby girl.”

She crossed her arms and shook her head, “No, I know you said there wasn’t much rum in that, but I could taste it. I’m not sure you should be driving.”

“Really?” Axel glared. “Just get on the fucking bike. I’m fine. The legal limit here is 08% blood alcohol. According to intoxalock.com it takes about five drinks an hour for someone my weight to reach a .08%. I had a dash of rum. I don’t drink more than one drink of any kind if I am going to drive. I won’t put in us in danger like that.”

She stands there staring at him without budging.

“I can’t believe you don’t trust me.” He gets back off the bike.

“I trust you fine Axel,” She bites her bottom lip nervously. “I just don’t trust the alcohol in your system”

“Yeah, that isn’t a thing.” He grabs her upper arm. “I have no problem taking a fucking breathalyzer test at the Lifeguard stand.

His temper flared as they made their way to the closest Lifeguard tower. “ Hey Roni, you have a minute to prove to my girl one fucking rum slushy doesn’t make me to drunk to drive. She doesn’t fucking trust my word. Sorry wrong words. She doesn’t trust the fucking alcohol.” Axel smirks.

She looks down at Axel and Susie. He looks pissed. Susie has tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She tries not to let it show how upset she is about the situation.

“I just...” Susie starts.

“I don’t need to hear anything but a sorry from you, young lady,” Axel chides.

“Um yeah Axel,” Roni hoped down from her tower. “But give the girl a break, would you.”

Axel glared, “test, please.”

She gets the test out of her bag, “I think you know how to blow in this.”

Axel nods. “I’m ready.”

Roni puts the breathalyzer between Axel’s lips. Hits a button, “Now, blow, blow, blow, blow, and … your good.” She shows the results to Axel and Susie. “You are at .005. Your fine Axel. Susie, Axel can actually drink a few drinks in an hour and still drive fine. But I know he doesn’t. You want to check yours?”

“Yeah, make sure your judgement isn’t impaired to judge me,” Axel mumbles.

Susie rolls her eyes, “fine, I’ll do it to.”

“Okay then Susie,” Roni wipes the mouthpiece with an alcohol pad before putting it in Susie's mouth. “blow, blow, blow, blow, and … your good.” She shows the results. “You are .07. Your quite a light weight.” She laughs. “Still you would pass a test. But Axel is driving, right?”

“Yes, I am,” Axel said proudly. “Thank you, Roni. You going to the garage with me still Susie Q.?”

Axel and Susie start walking away.

“Of course, I am,” Susie assured him. “I still have an important interview, don’t I?”

“Yeah, if you don’t think you drank too much to deal with it?” Axel smirked.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” She whined.

Axel got on his motorcycle and revved the engine waiting for her to get on. “I think a little girl that acts like you have today needs punished, but we will discuss that later.”

He speeds off cutting through the late afternoon traffic like it didn’t even exist. Susie held tight around him thinking she would almost fall off as they leaned into a sharp turn nearly touching the ground. He skids into his packing spot In front of the garage.

Axel sets up the kicks stand before getting off. “Give me five minutes before knocking on my office door.”

“I can do that,” Susie said meekly. She waited as instructed before heading into the garage with a smile plastered on her face. She nodded to the guys fixing a few cars and scrubbing down the place like their life depended on it. She knocked on the office door.

Axel answered the door with a clip board in hand, “Good afternoon Miss,” he looked at the clipboard. “Quinnby. You’re a little late.”

Susie was more nervous than she had ever been in an interview. “I’m sorry, I...”

Axel put his hand up to stop her as he sat down. “It says her you have some technical training in auto mechanics. What kinds of vehicles have you worked on?”

“I worked in a group on a few different cars and a truck,” She answered crossing her legs at the ankle. “I know I can learn a lot here.”

“I’m sure you could,” He leaned back clasping his hands behind his head. “Tell me what you like to do for fun?”

“I read.’ She wasn’t sure why the question was significant, but it had been asked of her before in interviewed. “I have been reading mechanics journals and magazines and learning about water sports.”

“What is the most interesting article you have read?” Axel prodded.

“They are all fascinating,” She fidgeted a little.

“Oh yeah?” He smirked. “What article was the most interesting?”

“I read Popular Mechanics and Rider.” She pauses. “There was a cool article on fuel efficient High Mileage Carburetors. And an older article that talked about a guy who built a carburetor for his sedan which vaporized the fuel and enabled his V8 to get over 100 mpg.”

Axel nodded and got up, “Thank you Miss Quinnby. I have many applicants to see but I will call you if you get the job here.”

Susie got up as Axel opened the door for her to leave, “Your welcome Mr. Cluney.” She walked out thinking Axel would follow her. He shut the door behind her instead leaving her a little baffled.

Inside the room Axel’s anger raged as he mumbled to himself. “fucking can’t trust me but wants to hide out here and expects a fucking job...” He punches his fist against the wall a few times. Blood ran from his knuckles. “Can’t fucking believe females. Fucking whores to get what they want. Expect me to just forgive and forget all their treachery.” He banged his head against the wall and screamed. “FUCK I AM MORON FOR TRUSTING ANYONE!”

When Axel doesn’t come out for a few minutes, she tries to go back in. The door is locked, so she calls out, “Axel?”

Axel splashes some water on his face. He took a few deep breaths as he walked to the door opening it, “I’m fine. Let’s get you a ticket back home or wherever you want to go but here. Here is not the place for you to hide.”

Susie’s mouth dropped open as Axel brushed past her without a look. She followed him without a sound waiting for a better time to ask him, what the hell he is thinking.

“Danny, Dwayne is bringing his Viper in tomorrow for a tune up. Buff out any scratches he has on the house.” Axel ordered. “I told him you would do it since you’re my best mechanic when I’m not here.”

The other guys scoffed at Axel’s remark. Axel glared, “Anyone have an opinion they want to share just step right up.” They all turned back to what they were doing. “Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought.” Axel gets on his motorcycle. He waits impatiently for Susie.

She comes out, “Axel, what’s going on? You are obviously upset.”

“No more fucking public displays.” He revved the motor. “You want to talk you come with me now.”

“But I think you are too upset to drive,” Susie squeaked.

“Of course, you do,” Axel sped off yelling, “You know where I live.”

#cozy cove #axel and susie q #axel cluney #mechanic axel #angst

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meganshinsou-tm · 5 years ago

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Sugarcoated. (m)

↳ chapter seven: quitting time

❧ genre: pro-hero hitoshi, adoptive siblings, happy ending

❧ chapter warnings: sexual/physical assault, mild blood, physical altercation

[multi-chap masterlist] [previous chapter - next chapter]

"Good morning beautiful, here I got you some breakfast!"

Jumping into Hitoshi's vehicle you smiled and took the small bag he handed to you. Looking inside you squealed upon seeing a bacon, egg and cheese bagel and let your head fall back to the headrest as a dramatic "yum" left your mouth.

The hero chuckled and ordered you put the seat-belt on and took off into traffic after you did. It was now Wednesday and for the past two days the man had drove you to and from work, he didn't stay your entire shift like he wanted because you so eagerly begged him not to, instead he compromised to show up only two hours before your shifts ended. You helped closed and it was usually just you, one other coworker and your boss at the end of the night.

Hitoshi would sit in his corner with his laptop and do some work away from the agency since he was taking this time off to supervise you basically. On Monday you tried to tell Lee that Thursday would be your last day at the establishment but he for once was occupied with work issues. Tuesday you tried again, always failing because an issue would pop up, you'd get caught up with a customer or he would be out of the office. Today though you planned on telling him no matter what, even if it meant marching into his office yourself, a place you've never been in because honestly you were too scared that something wrong would happen.

"So when I drop you off today, I'll come up and help you start packing some of your things so we can start getting them moved over and not have to tackle it all on Friday. Sound good?"

You looked over, mouth full of food and nodded. Hitoshi shook his head and smiled as he braked for a stop light, he placed an elbow on the console and told you to come closer. You hesitated but did so, swallowing your food harshly as you leaned over. He grabbed your chin and pulled your cheek to him, his breathing fanned your skin and you gripped the bagel in your hands.

You felt the tip of his tongue glide extremely close to the corner of your mouth. Your hands completely obliterating the food in your grasp now, squeezing it to bits, egg and bagel falling apart in your lap as your eyes widened and you breathed in through your nose sharply.

"There, you had a little bit of egg on your face. It's gone now!" He smirked and released you, sitting back in his seat and pressing the gas as the light turned green.

A violent chill crawled down your spine and you wiped where he licked with a growl, glaring at the smug hero who was so pleased with himself.

"What are you, a fucking dog?"

You sighed and sat back on your feet after being on your knees behind the counter and cleaning up a mess of coffee grounds that were spilled all over the floor. It was only a few minutes until closing time and Hitoshi still hadn't showed up, before your head could start thinking the worst the phone in your apron started to ring. Looking at the ID you sighed and answered it.

"Toshi!"

"I'm sorry sweetness, I've been stuck on a mission for the past few hours and just got off. I'm heading that way right now. Are you okay?"

"Yeah hero, I'm fine. Just about to start closing up now."

"Have you told your boss yet?"

"Kind of but I don't think he took me seriously?"

"Okay well, don't push it anymore till I get there, I'll try and talk to him. I don't want you bringing up the issue when I'm not around, just to make sure he stays in his own fucking lane."

You laughed and fidgeted with your skirt agreeing with him. He let you know he'd only be maybe ten minutes and you both said goodbye. With a groan you rose to your feet and gathered the dust pan you had swept all the grounds into and dumped it into the trash can and went about your closing duties.

"Hey (Y/N), Mr. Lee needs to see you in his office. I'll take over from here until you get done."

You looked up to see your coworker walking into the main floor and nodded. As you both met in the middle you asked her to notify Shinsou of where you were in case he showed up before you were done. With a smile she agreed and you made your way to the back room and to the door you dreaded to enter. Standing before it you wiped your clammy hands on your apron and took a deep breathe, raising a trembling fist up to the door you knocked lightly.

"Come in (Y/N)."

Before opening the door you looked to the ones that separated the main room from the back and said a silent prayer that things would go over smoothly and your hero would be there soon.

You stepped into the room, making sure to leave the door wide open and took a seat before the boss's desk. He finished typing away on his laptop and pushed it aside and turned to face you. A genuine smile crossed his face and you returned him a half smile.

"I'm sorry I've been so tied up all week and haven't been able to give you my full attention. You've been trying to tell me something?"

"Uh – yes sir I have, it's actually really important and now urgent," you replied softly but seriously and picked at your finger nails.

"Well what is it again?"

"Tomorrow will be my last day here Mr. Lee, I found another job. Like you said, I've been trying to tell you all week and I really hate that I'm just now being able to bring it up to you, only a day before but it couldn't be helped."

Your boss didn't reply right away, he leaned back and crossed his arms behind his head. His eyes wondered over you as he chewed on the inside of his cheek and let out an aggravated sounding hum and you looked at him apologetically.

"Well I can't say that I'm happy to hear this, you are one of my best workers and you seem to bring in a lot of the business we have, not to mention you are one of my favorites."

"Well I'm sure you'll find someone else who is just as good, maybe even better."

"Maybe. May I ask where you're going? This is kind of sudden," he asked leaning forward onto the desk.

"It's nothing special, just a nanny job. I'll be getting free room and board along with getting paid so I kind of jumped at the opportunity since I'm struggling at the moment."

"Well all you have to do is come to me (Y/N), I'm sure I could help you out, maybe loan you some money."

You swallowed harshly and protested while shaking your head, your heart beat a little faster as anxiety started to settle in. Your phone pinged and you immediately took it out of your apron, excusing yourself briefly to check the message.

➥ Toshi: Almost there, once again I'm sorry for being late, I'll make it up to you with food, sound good halfling? :)

You smiled and calmed down, knowing that any minute Hitoshi would be arriving. Mr. Lee cleared his throat, obviously not liking how he was being ignored.

"I'm sorry Mr. Lee. That's all I really needed to tell you, unless you need something else I should really be going and helping close up."

You rose from your seat and curtsied for some reason. The man behind the desk rose with you and nodded. Before you turned to walk for the door he stopped you with a question.

"Where is that hero at? I haven't seen him since he dropped you off. Doesn't he usually show up before now?"

"Uh – actually," you swallowed harshly not sure of what to say, you were honestly a terrible liar and the nervousness you felt at the moment wouldn't help to shield that.

Mr. Lee walked around the desk and closer to you. Your blood started to run cold while you took steps closer to the door, but his steps were bigger and faster. Now we was face to face with you, his dark eyes staring down and paralyzing you from moving another inch.

"I don't really appreciate how he just hangs around here lately."

"Mr. Lee, I really need to –"

"Shut up, I'm talking. He chauffeur's you to and from here doesn't he, what is he to you huh?"

You looked at him not answering, he quirked a brow and nudged your cheek with his knuckle and tilting his head as if telling you to speak.

"Oh am I allowed to talk now," you retorted, an attitude suddenly sparking in you.

"He's only treating you so well because he wants one thing kitten. At first he had to pay for your attention, and now your just throwing it in his face like some little slut. Has he fucked you already?"

The man was slowly backing you up against a wall, when you tried to sidestep his strong arm trapped your head and his foot kicked the door, slamming it shut.

"First off, you have no right talking to me like that, I don't care who you think you are. Second, my personal life is none of your goddamn business. This conversation is getting extremely inappropriate and I'm feeling uncomfortable. Now, kindly step the fuck off and let me out!"

The mans eyes got even darker, almost onyx like. His hand gripped your chin as he smacked your head back against the wall. You hissed, gritting your teeth and glared at him. Your hand moved to grab your phone but his free one stopped you before reaching it and pinned your wrist to the wall as he had done before. He licked his teeth and smirked, leaning closer his nose ran down your jawline and his teeth nipped at your skin. You started to tremble with fear and didn't make a move.

"You're not leaving just yet kitten. Since I've been given such short notice of your departure, I'll be shorthanded until I can fill your position and your absence is going to cost me money since those other bitches don't look half as good as you do."

"Is that supposed to fucking flatter me? I can't help it that this is a shitty place to begin with, that's your fucking problem, not mine!" You hissed.

He chuckled and squeezed your chin and wrist even tighter and stared you in the eyes. "Oh but it is, normally two weeks notice is preferred so things like that can be avoided. So how about we work out an agreement, since you only shake your cute little ass for paying customers, you shake it for me in lieu of the money I'll lose as repayment."

"You're delusional. I said to fuck off!"

"I guess I'll just have to persuade you then!"

It all happened so quickly, one second your feet left the floor and the next your back and head was slammed against a hard surface. Groaning and rubbing the back of your head you looked around to see your boss now hovering over as you were laid on his desk. Your skirt had flown up in the commotion revealing what was underneath, quickly your hand flew to lower it and cover yourself but he quickly pinned your hands above your head.

"Get off of me you sick fuck!"

A massive hand found its way around your throat, gripping harshly and slightly cutting off your airway. "I told you that mouth was going to get you in trouble one day. Now just relax kitten, you'll feel good, I promise!"

Your free hand desperately clawed at his wrist and you felt tears streaming down your face as he released your other wrist, that free hand now running up and down your sides before roughly groping your breast.

A surprised squeal rolled in your throat and he groaned, pulling you up by the throat he placed a sloppy and rough kiss to your lips. Your teeth gnashed against each other and you fought to keep your lips sealed tight, pushing against his chest. He seemed to enjoy your fighting back as he chuckled and started to kiss further down your jaw and neck, your fingers clawed at him desperately trying to push his face away.

"Please, Hitoshi ..." you cried out looking away and hoping the hero was around to hear.

Lee's fingers were suddenly in your mouth, making you grunt and go silent.

"Oh no kitten, you say my name!" He growled as his hand on your breast squeezed again.

Hot tears were flowing and your chest heaved. You were absolutely powerless under this man, he was too strong but he didn't have power over your voice. You shook you head and remained silent, only breathing harshly around his fingers and sniffling. Your hands gripped at his wrist holding him back from entering his fingers any further down your mouth.

"Don't worry, I know how to get it pouring from that pretty little mouth."

His hand trekked from your breast and down your side, towards your inner thigh where he popped the garter belt on your stockings. You shook your head and pleaded a muffled 'no' as the hand kept trailing closer and closer between your thighs, his fingertips barely brushing against your core. Out of pure fear you bit down harshly on his fingers, you could hear the crunch of a bone and flesh tearing in your ears. A loud yell was heard and the fingers were removed, as quickly as they disappeared a firm and harsh slap flew across your face.

The pain was unbearable, your entire right side stung and went numb. Your hands flew up and were met with a warm liquid. Looking at your fingertips you saw blood, your stomach started to lurch and your heartbeat quickened. Loud yells and crashes were escalating but being muffled as you quickly slipped away into a darkness.

"Fuck! (Y/N), snap out of it. Wake – uh, yeah there you go. There's those pretty eyes!"

Slowly your eyes fluttered open, a bright light stinging them until it was blocked out by a tuft of purple hair. You went to move and winced at a pain ringing through your head.

"No, no, no. Don't move, just take it easy." Hitoshi cooed and lightly cupped your left cheek.

"Tosh, I want to go home. Please –" tears streamed down your face and you hid it in his chest trying to quiet your sobs, "Please just take me home."

Hitoshi could feel his heart breaking piece by piece, he clutched you to his chest, a hand rubbing your back as he buried his face in your mangled hair, letting his own tears fall into it and releasing a sweet scent. He'd never forgive himself for this day, for not being there in time. If it took the rest of his life he'd give his blood, sweat and tears to make it up to you.

"Of course sweetheart, we're going home."

A few minutes later you laid in the backseat of the jeep, red and blue lights flashed from outside of the windows. Police wanted to question you but Hitoshi refused to let them, he didn't want you to be pestered or bothered and just wanted to get you home as soon as possible. Before leaving though, the hero had to answer questions himself since he practically beat Lee to a bloody pulp. Leaning against the door of his vehicle he groaned and ran a hand through his hair and turned to look inside the window to check on you.

"I told you, I walked in to see him over her, she was crying and her face was bleeding, her clothes were all disheveled. It doesn't take a fucking genius to figure out what was happening! He's assaulted her before, last time it was just bruises around her wrists."

"Why didn't she report him then, if she felt in danger then why would she come back?" The officer questioned scratching the back of his neck.

Hitoshi was baffled by what he was hearing, "Are you seriously trying to blame her right now? Look, you know what, let's settle this the easy way, where is he?"

"Mr. Shinsou I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"I'm not gonna touch the piece of shit again, I just want to ask him a question."

The officer made a face, realizing what the hero was getting at. He waved Hitoshi over and they walked towards the patrol car that the man in question was contained in. Opening the door he was slumped back against the seat, his face swollen and bloody from the amount of hits Hitoshi had landed. His dark eyes met purple ones and he smirked.

"Lee, I'm gonna need you to answer Mr. Shinsou's question."

"Why the fuck would I do that?" The beaten man tried to choke out.

"What's you favorite ice cream?" Hitoshi suddenly blurted out.

Your boss looked at him with a quirked brow and confused look, "The fuck kind of – ngh."

Just like that, the mans eyes went blank and he shut up, Hitoshi smirked as he had the bastard under control of his quirk. "Now, tell the officer what your intentions were with (Y/N)."

"I was going to have sex with her."

Hitoshi grit his teeth, his grip tightening around the car door. His blood boiled and he wanted to rampage on the disgusting man before him. "Now I want you to answer one more question, did she at any point say 'no' or 'stop'?"

"Yes."

With that Hitoshi released the man and turned on his heels, leaving behind the police officer.

"There, your job is done. I'll be checking in to make sure that piece of shit is dealt with correctly."

Hitoshi pulled up outside of his home, with a sigh he parked the vehicle and killed the engine. His ears could hear you breathing, slow and deep, and he looked back to see you cuddled up in the blanket the police officer gave him to cover your body. Your hair fell in your face, your lips parted as you breathed in and out, sleeping peacefully. The hero turned to face the steering wheel again, he crossed his arms leaning on it and quietly held back his cries. The image he saw when busting through that office door was forever burned into his head.

When he finally arrived to the café, Shinsou saw your coworker outside of the front door smoking a cigarette. He asked her where you were and once she told him he sprinted inside and through all the doors. He could hear your muffled cries, making his heart stop as he struggled to open the door, it was locked. He rammed his shoulder into it, getting it to budge just a little. Then he heard something that sounded like a slap and your yelp shortly after. The hero saw red and used all his force to bust open the door, upon stumbling in he saw Lee hovered over you. The skirt of your dress exposing everything, his hand gripping your thigh so tightly it would leave bruises. And your face, covered in tears and blood from a cut the split across your cheek. Without thinking Hitoshi attacked your assailant and it went downhill from there.

Taking a deep breath again Hitoshi finally got out of the vehicle. He opened the door to the backseat and stood there looking at you. Unsure of it was okay to even touch you, he slowly placed a hand on your foot, not wanting to touch your thigh or any other place that might seem inappropriate. He shook it gently while calling out your name.

A gust of cold wind blew inside the jeep and made you shiver, your eyes slowly fluttered open as you could hear Hitoshi calling out your name and your body being shaken. Cuddling up more into the blanket you hunched over to see the purple haired hero standing at the end of the seat.

"We're home (Y/N), are you okay with me carrying you?"

You nodded and sat up, wincing as your body and face hurt. Shinsou reached out a hand and told you to be slow and easy and try not to push yourself. You scooted to the end of the seat and wrapped your arms around the heroes neck and your legs around his waist. He was planning on carrying you a different way but this was fine too. Grabbing the blanket he shroud it around you, wrapped an arm around your back and one under the thigh that wasn't bruised. He closed the door shut with his hip, locked it and proceeded to walk to his front door.

"Where are we?" Your tired and groggy voice asked as your chin rested on his shoulder, eyes wondering your surroundings.

"We're at my place. It was closer than yours, I hope that's okay."

"Yeah that's fine, the heat in my place went out the other day anyway so at least I'll be warm tonight."

Hitoshi shook his head and let out an aggravated sigh as he fished out his house key from his pocket. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

You softly chuckled and nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck while he unlocked the door and opened it.

"You didn't ask."

#sugarcoated #hitoshi shinsou #hitoshi shinsou x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha x reader #eri #shouta aizawa #mha x reader

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mmazzeroo · 6 years ago

Text

Jonerys Advent Calendar 2018

@helloimnotawesome

Dear Val! I’m so excited (and nervous) and honoured to be your Jonerys Secret Santa!

Just a real quick shoutout to Val’s story ‘I Chose You’ - go read it if you haven’t already! *hearteyes*

Never done anything like this before, but got this crazy idea in my head and just couldn’t get it out. So I thought why the heck not?! Why advent calendar you ask. Because they are a vital piece of Christmas celebrations in my part of the world, and as a child I loved them so hoped you might too. Beginning your day with a small piece of chocolate what’s not to like, right? (I still do sometimes even when it isn’t Christmas, please don’t tell my mom). There are advent tv-series where children (usually) somehow end up saving Santa or Christmas or both. So I thought I’d try to transfer the concept into writing by giving you a little drabble-ish sized bite each day from Dec. 1st to 25th.

Fair warning: Virgin fanfic writer (written non-fic pieces though). Un-beta’ed, so apologies for that. English isn’t my native tongue. Any and all grammatical and spelling errors, plot-holes and messed up timelines are entirely mine, and I own them proudly. Since this is based on fiction I’m not trying to make it realistic, just plausible enough to be believable. Totally ball-parking everyone’s ages! Also, because it’s Christmas time I’ve tried to keep the story light and cheery despite the underlying current of heartbreak. (Did I give too much away now?)

Hope you’ll enjoy the story - and the ride! Can be read here below or on AO3.

NB: All rights belong to George RR Martin and HBO. Also, all lines and quotes from various movies, tv series and songs belong to their respective writers / producers / owners. I own none of the content.

ARYA I - What A Shit day!

"Sir! Sir! You need to lay still! We're here to help you, ok?"

She was looking into steel grey eyes as wide as saucers. Like a deer caught in the headlights. Wide with fear and pain. Always the same mix only the degree of either varied. The grey eyed man unfortunately seemed to learn towards fear. Damn it! Fear only made her job more complicated. Fear was only a few steps away from panic and panic was lethal. Panic shut down the brain and prevented her from reaching or reasoning with the patients.

"My wife!" He grabbed her collar and pulled her closer to his face. "Save my wife! She's 8 months pregnant! Please!!" His voice broke at the last word and he loosened his grip on her jacket. Yup, definitely need to calm him down. Shit! She took a quick look towards the tree-line feeling like she was being watched.

"Sir, your wife is being tended to as we speak, ok? She's in good hands. Now can you please tell me your names?"

His lips moved but she couldn't hear a thing over the helicopter taking off just then. Brilliant! Thanks Rakharo! She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. By the old gods and the new please keep the woman and her child safe. Brienne was an amazing paramedic and always did everything within her power to keep everyone alive. She had to have faith, yet she could never help herself to say a little prayer whenever she was on a scene. Especially one like this.

Detective Bronn from King's Landing City Watch had already arrested the drunken sod who'd caused this mayhem. SUV hit in the side, pushed off the road, rolled down a hill and burst into flames. Metal pieces, glass and blood spread heavily all the way down. Pools of blood where the bodies of the driver and passenger had landed. Strange how being thrown out of a vehicle could suddenly be looked at as 'lucky', but it had prevented them from being trapped in a burning car. The blood was all too easy to see in the snow even though the only light available was that from the flames of the burning car - which the firefighters were working on putting out - and her own headlight strapped to her forehead. Both bodies had appeared unresponsive until she and Brienne had managed to get close enough. The drunken driver had gotten off with a broken nose and a busted eyebrow. Fucking asshole! If any lives were lost this evening he'd have a much worse hangover than he could possibly imagine. DA Martell would make sure of that!

A couple of decades ago the Starks and Targaryens had entered an unprecedented partnership. While the Tyrells and Martells were battling over who should reign supreme over Westeros, the wolves and dragons set out on a different mission: They united their medical skills for both humans and animals alike. Under one roof. Together. So today when an emergency call was made they sent out paramedics and a tracker for the hurt and scared animal. To help all injured beings. At first there was the usual scepticism when someone does something new, but gradually people began to understand. Her dad and the late Commander Targaryen both believed the idea of 'leaving no one behind' must include ALL family members regardless of number of legs or wings or scales etc. President Tyrell had successfully managed to get a law past about a decade ago which clearly stated that 'a life is a life' and 'any life taken by outside forces will henceforth be considered a criminal offence and proper authorities shall investigate as such'. So if Tormund and his bloodhounds didn't find and come back with a living breathing dog belonging to the grey eyed man...well then mr. drunk-with-a-busted-eyebrow would be waking up to murder charges tomorrow morning.

"Can you tell me your name, sir?"

She had leaned closer to try to maintain eye contact with him. His eyes blinked once, twice, then closed, she felt his breath on her face and felt his hands slip from her jacket, fall and landed limply in the snow. There was a cry from the woods sounding almost like a wolf, but there were no wolves this far South.

"Clegane! CLEGANE!! Get your arse over here! We need to get him out of this godsdamned snow!"

Sandor Clegane was by her side in a few big strides. He helped strapping the man to the board and helped pull him uphill. He hopped in the driver's seat while she went to work in the back of the ambulance.

"Don't you dare die on me now, buddy! C'mon!" Still no reaction. "C'mon damn it! Wake up!!" Fuck! Cutting his clothes to get to his torso she was met by a sight she'd never seen before. His upper body was covered in scars. Some clearly old while some looked to be pretty resent. Seven hells! What's happened to you?! If only she knew his name. People tend to respond well to hearing their name. She kept working on the man while listening to a symphony of Sandor cursing the King's Landing late night traffic. There was a strong pulse again. Good.

"Yes! He's stable again. ETA?"

"5 mins"

"Roger that."

She searched his pockets for any ID's or papers of any kind but came up empty handed.

"Sir, can you tell me where you are?" She gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

"We, we just..." His breathing was shallow and laboured. "We just wanted to find our family." Tears started to pool in his eyes and he was visibly shaking now from trying to keep himself together. "And now," he took a deep shaking breathe, "it's all gone to shit." Tears rolled down his cheeks as he closed his eyes. Once again crashing.

"Damnit man! Stop doing this shit, it's getting real old! You hear me?!" We're so close to the hospital, just hold on a little longer. Leaning in she whispered in this ear, "Your family needs you."

When they arrived at the emergency entrance at the Lyanna Stark Memorial Hospital, Dr. Lannister was already waiting for them.

"Male, injured in vehicle accident. In and out of consciousness, but stable for now. Seemingly superficial wounds to left side of the head. Broken ribs and possible punctured lung on the left side of the chest."

"Has he said anything, Stark?" Dr. Lannister lifted his eye from his notes and looked straight at her. He didn't mean to she knew that, but the fact that he was so tall he literally looked down at her tend to make her feel like a child being scolded whenever he spoke to her. She did not like that feeling. Despite being one of the best surgeons Dr. Lannister wasn't arrogant though. Sure he would often state the fact that he's better than most, but does telling the truth make you arrogant? She wasn't sure.

She lifted her chin towards him and said, "Only few words here and there about his wife and family, doctor."

"Alright. I'll take it from here then. Time to go fix this daddy!"

He started pushing the gurney down to the lift. She took a few steps down the hall.

"Know anything about his wife?"

"Dr. Martell and Dr. Stark are working on her and the babies as we speak. They're in good hands, Arya." His kind green eyes met her own concerned grey ones.

She nodded.

"Wait! Babies? Plural?"

"Twins!", he shouted before the lift doors closed and he disappeared up to the OR.

Twins! Now she hoped even more that Robb and Dr. Martell could work their magic. She knew her brother was a skilful paediatric surgeon, but rumours had it that he was particularly skilled in neonatal care including surgery. Had to be why else would someone like Dr. Martell pick him as resident? Not known for doing favours she wouldn't give two fucks who his dad was if he didn't have any knowledge and skills of his own. Deep breathe. Ok, so overall the country's top surgeons were busy working on her grey eyed patient and his family. That had to be enough. It had to be!

Normally she'd go check the status of the affected animals over at the vet wing, however not expecting Tormund and his hounds to be back already and since technically her shift had ended while out on the call, she went straight to 'Hot Pies & Ale'. Not exactly the most inventive of names, but as Davos said 'we do what it says on the tin.'

Much to her surprise she heard the rambunctious wildling's voice the second she set foot in the pub.

"For fuck sake Bobby, stop licking Bessie's tits! At least buy her dinner first, you dog!" Tormund shook his head as he took a sip of his beer.

"Well, he is a dog so what did you expect?"

"Ha! Little Stark! Smart as always. Bobby B's a dog, aye, but does that mean I want to listen to him licking his girlfriend's tits all night? Tell me that!" He said challengingly, his eyebrows up and chin raised.

"I'm not 'little Stark'—", she said through clenched teeth

"Only because Bran's sitting in a chair!" he bellowed.

"—and 2nd, I don't know what the hells you like listening to!"

Turning towards the bar she hopped onto one of the stools and nodded to Tyrion and Viserys sitting side by side chuckling, probably at her and Tormund's little exchange.

Giving them an annoyed side glare, idiots, she turned around slightly to face the red-haired man. "Didn't expect you back this early. Is that good or bad news?"

"Good. Found it not too far off in the woods. Growling like a motherfucker though, had to sedate the poor thing. Must've taken some hits in that tumble down the hill. Had a few burns as well not too bad all things considered."

She remembered all too well the sound of the growling coming from the car as she had manoeuvred around the vehicle to get to the man. When the firefighters had managed to cut the lock to the crate open all she saw was a flash of white fur, and it was gone between the trees.

"Dr. Tyrell and Sansa was with him when I left."

Giving him a puzzled look he clarified, "Dr. Targaryen isn't expected back until tomorrow. Anyway, Dr. Tyrell says the dog should be back up and running in a jiffy." Giving her a reassuring smile he continued with a wistful look in his eyes, "Could swear it looked like a winter dog. Albino one at that. White as snow. Big gorgeous beast!" He ended with one of his signature big grins.

"Do winter dogs howl?" she asked while taking a sip of the soda Davos had placed before her.

"This one did that's what led me straight to him. Up North they do and the wolves will reply. Can keep you up all night with their howling banter", he laughed out loud and shaking his head as if remembering something. "We'll know for sure tomorrow when Dr. Stark comes."

"Dad's coming??", she asked perhaps a little too excited.

"Aye, Dr. Tyrell called him down for a consult to make sure. If it is a winter dog then he's more wolf than the huskies she's used to."

"Speaking of howling", Viserys interrupted and looked at Tyrion, "your sister was causing quite a ruckus this evening," he chuckled.

Sighing deeply Tyrion asked, "Do I even want to know what she did this time?"

"She kept yelling for more wine", Viserys laughed trying to immitate Cersei "More wine! MORE WINE! MOOOORREEEE WIIIINNNEEEE!!" Leaning back on the barstool, hand on his stomach laughing out loud he continued, "she almost couldn't sound more looney even if she tried!"

Everyone laughed out loud at that including, and especially, Tyrion.

"I swear rubber cells were invented for the likes of my sister."

"Tyrion!", she slapped him on his arm, "she may be crazy but she's still your sister."

"That's exactly why I say it! If set free she'd be a menace to society." He took a big gulp of his beer. "Speaking of menace, have I ever told you the story of the jackass, honeycomb and brothel?" he asked with a grin wiggling his eye brows.

Leaning closer to him with a big smile on her face she answered "Ooh do tell Mr. Lannister!"

"Well, I once brought a jackass and a honeycomb into a brothel—"

He was interrupted when the pub door was ripped open and the voice of a furious woman yelled, "Hey! Watch where you're going fuckface!!"

Stepping through the door she practically threw her bag to the side as she stomped straight to the bar.

"Dany! Good to see you again, sis", Viserys leaned in to kiss her on the temple, "Flight catch some disturbance did it?" he chuckled.

"Oh if only it was the flight", she growled, "Davos, give me a shot of your Dothraki booze."

"As m'lady wishes", Davos poured a shot while exchanging a look with both Vis and Tyrion. "Here you go."

Dany put the glass to her mouth and threw her neck back taking it in one shot. Resulting in heavy coughing and wheezing. "Gods! I hate that stuff! Give me another one. Now, Davos!"

"Hey, why can't I have any of that by the way?", she suddenly asked pointing her index fingers at everyone's drinks.

"Because Arya," Gendry, having been quiet this entire time, said and raised his hand to point at the sign hanging at eye-level clearly saying '21', "you must be this high to ride this ride." Everyone around her laughed out loud with him. A smug look on his face indicating he was very pleased with himself.

"Fuck you! I'll be 21 in just a few months!"

"Few months isn't 21 today, sorry Arya", Davos said sympathetically.

"Whatever!" She left 5 dragons on the bar and jumped off the stool marching to the door.

Gendry called out to her, "A soda's only 4 dragons."

As she swung the door open she looked back and said, "Keep the change...you filthy animal!"

She heard a choir of laugher as the door closed behind her. What a shit day!

#joneryssecretsanta2018 #helloimnotawesome #jonerys #advent #christmas

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greedisgreen · 7 years ago

Note

Can you please write a PetyrXSansa fic where Petyr is mugged pretty badly while on his way home, and Sansa finds him unconscious and bleeding on the road and then takes him to the hospital

Another old prompt filled, plus two kissing prompts!

@jonarya786 asked:

56, 34 :)

Anonymous asked:

Thank you! I’d love to read a story based on prompt 11

The snow fell hard as Sansa made her way through the side streets of King’s Landing, and she tugged her wool peacoat tighter. With how fast it was accumulating, she regretted not calling a cab, but it was only three blocks back to her place from Jeyne’s flat, and at the time she couldn’t rationalize the fare for so short a distance. However, while they resided in a safer area of the city, Sansa kept her mobile screen alert, tucked inside her pocket, thumb readied to dial. In the other, she held the bear spray she picked up the last(and only) time she got roped into camping. She supposed if it could keep a bear at bay, it would do just fine against a human assailant.

She’d just turned to take a short cut behind her friendly neighborhood bodega, when she heard it — a metallic clang. Her whole body tensed, and she deftly stepped into the shadow of a nearby dumpster, her fists reasserting their grip on the meager items meant to offer her a modicum of defense. She inhaled sharply, trying to tame shrill beat in her chest. She should really know better than to travel the secluded alleyways at night, and cursed herself for her stupidity. Again, she heard the tumult, but nothing more — no footsteps, no crunch of snow. She peeked from her hiding place, surveyed the landscape, and that’s when she saw the dapples of blood in the snow. Alert eyes heedlessly followed their trail to a pile of refuse in the distance, where an unconscious man lay face down.

Oh god!

Sansa’s stomach sank, concern suffocating the last reserves of her caution. With her thumb already poised for action, she dialed emergency services. She hadn’t truly processed the full extent of the scene when the dispatcher answered the line.

“Yes, there’s a man the alley behind the bodega at the corner of Silk and Sage. There’s a lot of blood.”

“No, I didn’t see what happened.”

“Is he breathing? I- I haven’t checked.”

“You want me to what? But I don’t know-”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll try. Just- just gimme a minute.”

Body surging with adrenaline, Sansa walked towards the body on shaky legs, cautiously checking her surroundings, phone clutched. She felt exposed now that she’d left her safe little nook, but the lifeline to the dispatcher was open and ready if she needed to use it. A man laid prone amidst the asphalt and rubbish as the snow slowly encased him. If he was breathing, it was shallow, indeed. She crouched down beside his head, smoothed the flakes away from his face to see a rather striking profile. He was cold, and the bottled up dread she’d been suppressing came welling up. Swallowing down the bile that threatened (Because oh, god! What if he’s dead?), she reached beneath the collar of his heavy coat, placed her fingers as instructed over where his pulse should be, and collapsed on the ground next to him as relief flooded her entire body. He’s alive — hurt — but alive. Upon closer examination, she saw an ominous gash over his temple, and a small pool of blood beneath his head, but flow had thankfully ceased. She heard a buzzlike sound, and realized the dispatcher was yelling through the open line to gain her attention again.

“He’s alive,” she breathed. “But the snow is falling fast, and he’s chill to the touch.”

“Yes, yes,“ she nodded, vigorously trying to clear the snowfall away form his head, somewhat annoyed until she realized the patch over his ears was actually his hair. “I’ll stay with him until the paramedics arrive. Thank you, thank you so much.”

Distractedly, she ran her hand over his hair — satiny smooth against her fingertips — and worried at her bottom lip. “What happened to you?” A pained groan was received in response, and Sansa squeaked in surprise, her phone fumbling out of her grip and lodging in to snow with a crunch. Automatically, she reached for it, but a hand caught her wrist in vise. She froze as she beheld glazed grey-green eyes fluttering open. A wretched sobbing breath caught in his throat. “Cat? Am I dead?”

“No. No, you aren’t dead.” She pried free the hand on her wrist, warming his frozen palm between her own.

Sirens blared in the distance, and she knew help would arrive soon, but he was agitated, distraught as he pushed himself up from the cold asphalt. She need to calm him before he managed to injure himself further. His voice cracked, “I must be. You’re dead, Cat.” He cried into his fist, and Sansa couldn’t bring herself to correct him. Whoever this Cat person was, she was clearly someone he cared for dearly.

Playing along, her voice was coated in tenderness as she soothed, “No, no, look.” She released his hand to cup his face. “Look at me. I’m alive. My hands are warm, can’t you feel them?”

He choked back another pained whimper, resting his cradled head against hers as the tears swam down his cheeks. He shifted closer, his palms cupping the outside of her thighs, flexing and releasing as though he was working out what was real. The heaving sobs receded and an expression akin to relief came over him, awe maybe. “I almost lost you,” he gasped, surging forward to catch her lips without warning. He was delirious and deceptively strong. Arms steely as they bound her to him, her own trapped against his chest. She opened her mouth to form a protest, but he used the opportunity to claim her further; his mouth slanting, his tongue darting in to bait her own. At a loss, Sansa relented. He wasn’t in his right mind, and if a kiss would give him comfort that’s not bad, right? She reached out for him, her tongue toying, lips teasing and soft. He tasted of mint, of salty tears and copper. Despite the melancholic circumstances, it was pleasant. Too pleasant. This nameless man kissed her hard and thorough, and her body grew flustered and hot even as her head was screaming how wrong it was.

Finally, his arms relaxed, and reason was restored. They both gasped for air as she placed some distance between them with a firm hand to his chest. Not so far that he would feel the ache of rejection, but enough that there was space to move again, to breathe again.

The ambulance lights flashed behind her lids, and she lifted them to see it skid to a halt at the end of the alley. As the paramedics rushed towards them with a gurney in tow, Sansa willed herself together, gently removing his arms from around her so that she could stand and flag them down. “He’s over here. And he’s conscious now.”

He looked very small from where she stood, and he stared up at her in a daze. Did he realize she wasn’t this Cat for whom he’d mistook her? Compassion wrenching at her heart, she knelt down beside him again, licked his taste off her lips as she tried to explain what was happening, taking his hand again. “You are hurt.” She drew it up to his temple, let him feel the blood with his own fingers, let him see it. Cupping his cheek, she attempted to drill understanding into him, blues eyes going soft as they met only incomprehension. “They’re going to take you to the hospital now, though, okay?”

Clearly disoriented, he nodded like a child, not fully understanding, but not in a place to question. And Sansa watched on helplessly, biting at her nails as they checked his vitals. Satisfied that he wasn’t in immediate danger, they prepared him for transport — strapping him to the gurney and covering him with a warm blanket.

So preoccupied with her own tumbling thoughts, Sansa almost missed the question when the EMT asked, “Did you want to ride with him?”

Yes. No. I don’t know.

“No, I- I shouldn’t,“ she said lamely, shuffling on her feet. “I only found him, and I need to get home and feed my cat.”

The paramedic shrugged and the pair started rolling him away. And the man’s expression was distant as he stared back her, his eyes lifeless.

God, this didn’t feel right, and she couldn’t stop herself from chasing halfway down the alley after them. “Wait! Wait,” she panicked. “What hospital are you taking him to?”

They didn’t stop their frenzied gait as one yelled an answer over their shoulder. “King’s Landing General.”

She stood frozen, hugging the wall, until they loaded him up and drove away. She felt like an idiot, worrying after a man she didn’t even know, and kicked the snow at her feet, feeling something jolt loose under her heel. Her investigation turned up a wallet — Italian leather, expensive. Recalling the thick wool of his overcoat, and the soft silk of his shirt under her hands, she knew it was his. Inside, it was stripped bare — credit cards, cash, anything of worth removed — except for his ID.

Fingertips traced his imaged, absorbing every detail as she memorized his name: Petyr Baelish.

The next day, Sansa paced in her apartment, tapping his wallet against the palm of her hand as her cat, Sir Percival, bobbed his head, following her movement from his perch on the kitchen table. What to do, what to do? Turn it into the police or drop it off personally at the hospital? She knew, rationally, that the station was the correct route — it was technically evidence. Yet, some treacherous curiosity gnawed at her insides; that hollow expression on his face etched behind her lids.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Pursing her lips, Sansa huffed through her nose in annoyance, hand rearing to strike the wall she shared with her neighbor. The old bat was going to drive her insane one day, and when she snapped no jury would convict her. Letting a silent curse slip past her lips, Sansa fisted her hand at her stomach, yelled through the wall instead, “Oh let up, Mrs. Schmidt! I’m not making any noise! I’m not even wearing shoes, for Christ’s sake!” Not entirely true, but her ornery neighbor would have to come complaining to her door to prove it.

Ugh! She needed to get out. Maybe a jaunt through the park would help; fresh air to untangle her hopelessly tangled mind. Giving a perfunctory scratch to Percy’s ears, Sansa snatched her jacket and scarf from where they hung and donned them clumsily as she ran down the stairwell, out into the thick drape of winter.

It was only a hop, skip, and a jumped before she stared up at King’s Landing General. She didn’t even recall how she got there.

Room 414

Sansa stared at the number; hesitantly, raised her hand to knock only to drop it again, uncertain. His face flashed before her; the crushing desperation on it just before he’d capture her lips; the listlessness of his eyes when the paramedics carted him away. The way he just looked at her — looked through her. Her knuckles rapped.

Knock, knock, knock

Through the door, she heard a plaintive, lowly murmured, “Come in.”

Tentatively, she peeked inside to see him reclined in bed, hospital gown slightly askew at his shoulders as he read a book. A set of reading glasses were perched on the tip of his nose, and it struck her that it was an appealing look on him; far handsomer than the faded license picture presented. Unfortunately, he seemed enthralled with the words on the page, and made no move to greet her or even glance up. She cleared her throat with a little cough, and his eyes darted up, spying her in the cracked door over the tops of his frames.

Color tinged her cheeks as their eyes met, and he seemed almost as abashed, quietly snapping the book closed and folding his glasses away. “I’m sorry,” he said as he tried to sit up straighter. “I thought it was just another nurse come to poke at me. Can I help you?”

“Umm… hi,” she greeted with a small, nervous smile, tucking away her hair as he slid into the room. Approaching the bed, hands animated, she explained, “I’m, uh, not sure if you remember me. I’m the one who found you last night.”

“Oh!” His eyes widen briefly. “Forgive me,” he muttered apologetically, rubbing a hand over the bandage near his temple. “My head… It’s still a little fuzzy.”

“No, it’s fine. You were pretty out of it, so I wasn’t sure…” She trailed off with a sigh, shrugging away the unfinished thought. “Anyway, I found this on the ground after you’d gone.” Edging closer, she extended it out to him. Their fingers grazed, sending a shock straight through her, and she retracted her arm quickly, averting her eyes to the linoleum tiled floor. “I thought you might want it back, even if it was picked clean.”

“Thank you.” Petyr — Mr. Baelish — he turned the wallet over a time or two, as if debating how much of his life had been disrupted before admitting defeat and pulling it wide. His brows twitched upward, and he huffed, “Wow. They even took my coffee rewards card.”

“The monsters.” The glib comment flew out without thinking, and an apology was half formed until she saw him crack a smile, heard a muted chuckle, and coyly met him with one of her own.

His whole face softened, the deep lines around his eyes going slack as he seemed to relax at last. “I’m sorry. I’m being rude. I should properly thank the woman who saved my life. What’s your name?” He held out his hand for her, and after a seconds hesitation, she placed her own within it.

The warm contact caused prickle after prickle to raise on her skin, and she prayed the color flooding her cheeks was mild enough to be explained by the coat she still wore. “Sansa — Sansa Stark.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Stark. I’m-”

“Petyr Baelish,” she finished. Explaining in a rush, “I saw your license.”

Mirth played on his lips as he tugged her closer. “Well, it seems you have one up on me, Miss Stark.”

“Sansa. If you keep calling me Miss Stark, I’ll just look around the room, confused,” she joked lightly.

“Fair enough. But if that’s the case, you must call me Petyr.” A thumb brushed enticingly over her knuckles, sending a frisson budding low as he raised her hand to his lips, his eyes hooded. “Thank you, Sansa, from the bottom of my heart.” When his lips met her skin, she thought for sure she was going to turn into a puddle on the floor.

She stuttered, heart flying in her chest, “I- Uh- I’m glad I could help.”

A catlike grin lit his features, as his thumb swiped again, rubbing the faint moisture from his lips over her hand before he released it. “Actually, if you have a moment, maybe you could help me with something else?”

Her brows furrowed as she flex her hand, trying to ignore the way it tingled. “I- Maybe?”

Pulling forth the tray table that had been rolled to the side, Petyr lifted the cover off his lunch. “My current harridan of nurse is adamant that I finish this. Yet,” he distastefully eyed the cup of green jello, “that gelatinous goo is on my plate. I don’t suppose you like it? You’d be doing me a great service,” he pled.

Sansa ruffled her hair and laughed. “You want me to eat your Jello? Really?” At his adamant nod, she shrugged, “Okay. I think I can suffer the indignity if it’ll help.”

“You’re an angel!” he exclaimed with exaggerated relish. “Now sit. Tell me about yourself, Sansa.”

A mild cerebral edema kept Petyr in the hospital far beyond what he would have preferred. He explained it to her as she toyed with the cup of jello in her hand. The condition was not severe enough to warrant surgery, but the doctor insisted he stay for observation until they were certain he was out of danger — one week at a minimum. He hadn’t even been there twenty-four hours, and the stress of being endlessly poked and prodded was already taking its toll. But he enjoyed her company, and would she mind coming again? How can a girl turn down an invitation like that?

So, it became their routine. Sansa swung by daily to visit Petyr, eat his terrible jello, and they would talk — about everything. She told him about her job at the coffee shop, the classes she was taking at the local uni, and he in turned would regale her with tales of his own. He worked for the government (some fancy accountant type), and traveled abroad on the regular. It was a bit intimidating at first. He was older, had seen places and met people she only recognized from the telly. The vast differences between them, however, soon dwindled in relevance as their similarities came to fore. They were both orphans; both raised in the foster care system; both somehow survived and thrived.

Some subjects, however, seemed too delicate to broach. The kiss, Cat, that whole crazy night — they both circled around it. That was until the night before his discharge.

After her shift, Sansa snuck a coffee to him — a mint mocha with an extra dollop of whipped cream — and smiled a secretive little smile as she watched him take an appreciative sip; her giggle coming out involuntarily as she pointed out the ridiculous amount of cream caught up in his moustache. Petyr tried to lick it away, but mostly succeeded in mooshing it beyond the reach of his tongue.

Grabbing a tissue, Sansa took pity on him, plopping herself at the edge of his bed. “Here,” she offered, tilting his face up to dab at that impossible little spot of white, face growing warm only after she’d finished and he’d pulled her hand down into his; her gesture suddenly feeling far too intimate for their short acquaintance. Feeling silly, she tried to remove herself, but he refused to let her go, yanking her back.

There was something alight in his eyes that she couldn’t place immediately, then it hit her. Nervous — he wanted to say something and he was nervous, and now she found that she could barely meet his eyes. What if he was about to say goodbye? Go back to the infamous Cat that he never mentions. At indistinct pain welled up in her chest at the thought, and her breaths grew shallower and shallower until he spoke, “Once again, I feel the need to say thank you. I’m not sure I would have survived my stay here without these little kindnesses of yours.”

Shaking her head, she tried to laugh him off. “It’s no trouble.”

“So you say, but…” he looked sheepishly towards their entwined hands, “I haven’t been entirely honest.” Sansa’s brows pinched, confused. “I need to apologize. I lied. When I first saw you, I acted as though I didn’t recognize you, but I did. I remember everything that happened that night.” Her face lit up like a neon sign when she understood his meaning. “I wasn’t in my right mind when I came to, but that doesn’t excuse my actions.”

“Petyr, it’s okay. You don’t have t-”

“I do. I-” He cleared his throat, uncomfortable as he adjusted where he sat. “ I forced myself on you and you’ve been nothing but kind to me since. Coming to visit everyday, bringing me newspapers and books, sneaking little treats for me past the nurses. I feel as though I’ve taken advantage. I’m sorry, Sansa. Truly. If there is anything I can do to make it up to you, please just say the word.”

Please, kiss me again. That was the real reason she came here to return his wallet. She tried to delude herself into believing she was being a good Samaritan, but it was only the lie she told herself to make her behavior more palatable; admitting that she wanted him just a bridge too far for her conscience. In her dreams, that kiss replayed over and over in slow motion until she was breathless. But, of course, she couldn’t say that. It had been meant for someone else — for Cat.

At a loss(because how on earth had she allowed herself to become this far gone), Sansa racked her brain before smiling lamely, and suggested, “Well… I wouldn’t say no to a steak dinner.”

“Is that all?” he asked, granting her a smile that almost made that twisty, achy feeling in her gut(That try as she might, she’s never been able to quite tamp down) worth it. He kissed her hand for the second time in so many days. “I think that can be arranged.”

Removing her coat, Petyr handed it off to the girl working coat check along with his own, and all those meddlesome nerves that’d been knotting up in Sansa’s stomach since they made these plans threatened to choke her. Oh, the restaurant is posh; actual linen adorned the tables with candlelight, the service staff in black tie dress, everything screaming of romantic rendezvouses. Earlier, she worried if perhaps she’d over done it with the teal raglan dress and black leggings she wore, but she feared now the exact opposite was true. She tugged at the hem that barely reached mid thigh; smoothed the fabric down her middle trying to appear unaffected, and failing. She fretted, teeth tugging at her red tinted lip until she tasted the lipstick, then made a mad dash with her fingertips to wipe off the color that transferred before anyone noticed. Shit, she was nervous, and this wasn’t even a date.

Petyr’s touch burned at the small of her back, startling her out of the worried glances she was casting over the room. His whisper light, but a touched concerned. “Are you okay?”

Clearly, she wasn’t doing a great job of hiding her apprehension. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. “Just- I feel a little underdressed. When I said steak, I was thinking more along the lines of the nearest Sizzler. This looks… expensive.”

“Never you mind,” Petyr assuaged into her ear, guiding her to follow the waitress to their table. “The owner is a friend of mine. Everything will be comped tonight.”

“I guess it pays to have friends in high places,” Sansa quipped as they approached their seats.

His hand slipped further around to squeeze the curve of her waist, and Sansa almost tripped over her feet in surprise. She could hear the smirk in his reply. “That it does.”

Filet mignon, drizzled with an avocado butter and rosemary sauce. Asparagus wrapped in bacon, cooked to crispy and tender perfection. Roasted cherry tomatoes with whole garlic cloves, bursting with savory flavor. Sansa hadn’t eaten this well since… Well, ever. There may have been one Thanksgiving when she was still just a child, but the memory was tainted; her foster family at the time having been particularly cruel.

Her companion watched in expectant delight, hands twined together over his own dish, as Sansa brought the first savory morsel to her mouth. A cacophony of flavor exploded on her tongue, eliciting a moan that was practically indecent.

“Does it meet with your approval, then?” he asked with a terribly wicked, teasing grin.

That smirk really should be illegal for the deplorable things it did to her insides. She clenched her legs together, hoping to abate the fluttering twitch that pulsed low in her hips. With her ankles crossed demurely, she sampled the first taste of the spicy Syrah that he’d ordered with their meal, unsurprised to find it a perfect compliment. “Honestly, I think it’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever put in my mouth,“ she confessed with a blush on her cheeks.

“I’m glad. I wanted to do something special for you,” he said, cutting into his own meal. “Your presence this last week, it was a comfort. While I can claim many people’s acquaintance, there are very few who I could call a friend.“

Swallowing her disappointment, she plucked her bread apart. “So, is that what we are — friends?”

“Is that something you’d like?” Petyr commented casually, glancing up from his plate.

She plastered on a watery grin, attempting to hide her chagrin. “Of course, I would.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” he said quickly, explaining further, “I’ve missed having people I can rely upon. People, not in my pay that is. Unfortunately, as I’ve gotten older, it’s become rather difficult to connect with my peers. Usually, those around my age are settled down, worrying about how to pay for their kids’ education. I don’t have that issue. It’s freeing, but also quite — for lack of a better word — lonely.”

“So you’ve never married?” she asked, trying to squash the hope rising up in her.

“No.”

“Then, I have to ask. Who is Cat?” The whole room seemed to go quiet, as she met the stormy depths of his eyes. She bit her lips before stating, “You called out for her that night after you’d been mugged.”

The utensils in this hand clanked as he set them on his plate, and he reached for his glass. “An old heartache. One that’s been slow to mend.” A deep draw of the decadent red wine bobbed down his throat, and he took a steadying breath. “She died almost twenty years ago. Her car skidded off a bridge. Her body was never recovered.”

“I’m so sorry, Petyr.” Her heart hurt for him, and she felt torn in two because she’d been sitting here jealous of a dead woman. Idiot — callous, thoughtless idiot. She squeezed his hand atop the table, determined to be the comfort he clearly thought her. “She must have been a very special to you, to still think of her after all this time.”

“She was,” he said soberly, returning her gesture along with a muted smile. “But that was a long time ago, and I’d much rather converse on happier topics, wouldn’t you?”

By the end of dinner, there was no denying it. Sansa was wildly enamored with Petyr Baelish — wildly enamored and completely, utterly heartbroken. He was the perfect gentleman; charming, funny, and after they’d demolished the first tray of bread she’d realized, devastatingly handsome for a man no less than twenty years her senior. The crooked grins he’d cast her way, the warm rumble of his laugh, the careful way that he’d helped her to and from the restaurant, the way his scent would crowd her — she was positively drunk off him. And he thought of her as a friend. Tears of burning frustration stung behind her eyes. What sort of stupid girl falls for a man who’s still in love with a dead woman?

The car hummed to a stop in front of her building, and Petyr’s hand found hers in the dark. “Is everything okay, Sansa? You’ve been very quiet the last hour.”

Sansa’s heart twisted as she took in the concern on his face, and her exquisite meal sat like a heavy immovable rock in her gut. “I’m fine.” She shrugged, casting him a pale shadow of a smile. “I probably shouldn’t have eaten so many lemoncakes. I’m just sleepy is all.”

“It was a particularly rich meal. I’m glad you shared it with me. I can’t recall the last time I had such enjoyable company,“ he agreed, tone raspy and warm. He pursed his lips, leaned into her intently, and that dastardly, sinful hope convinced her to close her eyes… "I thought perhaps-” But Sansa cut off whatever he was about to suggest, realizing far too late that he wasn’t making a move to kiss her at all. His lips were parted but immobile beneath her own, and by the time she pulled the brakes on this runaway train, she absolutely wanted to curl up and die. The face of complete shock stared down at her like a barrel of a gun, and his lips were stained red.

Oh, god.

“I’m sorry,” she squeaked. “I- I-” She licked her lips, her hand scrambling for the door’s handle. She had to get out of the car before she really did die of acute embarrassment. The cool grip found its way into her palm. Jackpot. “Um, thanks for dinner.” She bolted. Through the door, into the building, up the stairwell; pulling off her modest ballet flats after the first flight because they kept slipping and she couldn’t hide in her apartment fast enough.

Idiot, idiot, idiot. Who does that?! Just up and kisses someone who was only trying to be kind!

The keys to her studio unit jangled uncontrollably as her hand shook; her blood pumping at light speed from such a heinous error in judgment, and she didn’t take a true, full breath until the door was slammed hard behind her. Not even a full minute passed before the little fury dictator was demanding her attention.

Mrrrew, mrrrew

“Oh, Percy, at least you still love me,” she said forlornly, picking up the grey tabby from where he weaved through her legs. Kissing him on the head, “Even if it’s only because I feed you.” She placed him on the counter as she opened a bag of treats.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"You have got to be kidding me!” Sansa whipped out of her kitchen and yanked open her door, fully prepared to tell Mrs. Schimdt just where to shove her wall banging broom, only to stop dead in her tracks. Petyr stood just outside her door, his hand poised to knock. Her stomach did a one eighty flip into a triple axle and whatever the fuck other fancy spinning, sproinging Olympic moves one could think of as he stepped closer. Words froze in her throat, which was just fine, as he didn’t seem interested in talking. He reached out for her — arms snaking around her waist, into her hair — and his mouth took hers in a deeply, sensual kiss. The slow, careful movement of his lips and tongue pulling the sweetest sounds from her throat. This kiss wasn’t as good their first. It was better. Because this kiss, this kiss was meant for her and her alone. She melted into him, meeting him stroke for delicious stroke, reveling in the same piquant flavor that she’d come to crave.

Petyr growled, painstakingly pulling his mouth away. “Now, if you’ll let me finish what I wanted to say before,” he purred against her lips. “I’d like it very much if we could continue to see each other.”

“Okay,” she sighed happily, nails rasping along his nape. “But only if you keep kissing me like that.”

“I don’t think,” he said, peck, peck, pecking down her jaw, “that will be a problem.” A sweltering kiss to her lips, and he loosened his grip attempting to exit gracefully. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Sansa wasn’t having it. She wrapped her arms around him tighter. Her voice dripping pure sugar, “You don’t want to stay awhile?” Oh, she really shouldn’t sound that desperate, but Petyr didn’t seem to mind.

The deep rumble of his chest warmed her through, as he replied with amusement tilting his lips, “We have an audience.”

“Hmm?” Sansa opened her eyes (When had she shut them? Who knows, who cares! Elation coursing through her veins because he kissed her! He wanted her! She was in his arms!), and craned her head around to see old Mrs. Schmidt standing in her house robe, cigarette hanging out of one side of her mouth and curlers in her hair.

Petyr tilted her to face him once more, kissed her lips with a grin. “Tomorrow.” He slithered out of her arms and veritably skipped down the stairs, and Sansa could not wipe the smile off her face if her life depended on it. It took all her effect not to make a complete ass out of herself by twirling into her apartment.

“Well, honey,” Mrs. Schmidt said in her smoke soaked voice, “If you two don’t work out, you can send him my way.”

In your dreams you old crone!

Sansa glided into her apartment, singing out sweetly behind her, “Goodnight, Mrs. Schmidt.”

#prompts #petyr x sansa #my fic

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lenin-it-to-win-it · 7 years ago

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“this isnt a herem anime u fucken weebs”

summary: toshi gets injured and drama ensues when nighteye, naomasa, hizashi, and aizawa all show up to fuck him! who shall win his affections (and 8 foot thundercock) in the end? find out on this episode of “its almost 2 in the fucking morning i have class in 6 hours what the fuck am i doing”

notes: i decided to write this bc i thought naomasa and nighteye arguing over all might would be a Dank Meme and then i added mic and aizawa to make it a proper HaremTM, im dedicating this to @motojirou-kajii bc rose is literally the only reason i have the slightest interest in nighteye so congrats u are INDIRECTLY RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS HEAP OF SIN HOPE U LIKE IT FUCKO

***************************************************************************************all mite had broekn much of his limbs and ruptured all 3 of the orgens he had left so it was basically like any other day in his miserble life.

he was sad and loenly and even tho his arms were 8 feet long neither could reach his mightey montser cock that wuz also 8 feet long ;)).

“what a sad day this is for me, ALL MIGHT TM” he saed sadly. he coffed up blood and sighed sighfully. “if only ther was a nubile young man who could bring me confort,,”

sir niteeye crawled out from underneath the couch where he had been hiding for totally legitiemet, not secretly jacking his dick to all mights despare, reasons.

“sir nite ey” said toshinori weakly.

nihteye gently slapped toshinorys ass. “good nighteye. sleep tighteye.”

toshinori laghed. “dont let the bedbugs,,, biteeye?”

“nice fuckin going dr. genius u ruined the joke u stupid idiot” nighteye snapped angrely. “it was perfect but u pushed it 3 far and now its ruined 5ever. ur beating that dead horse harder than i beat my meat when i think of your grate jiggling jugs in that slutty little spandex onesie u run around in”

“not aneymor” toshinori cried as teers ran down his face. “my slutty dayz are over. now im just a sad old man. no mor spandex onsesies for me- only” his face scrunched up as he wept mournfully. “TASTEFUL TROUSERS AND LOOSE TURTLENECKS OH NGHTEYE WHAT IS MY LIEF BECONE??? I WISH I WER THE DED!!1”

nightey wipped out his two inch dick and bithc-slapped the sympol of peace across his fuckin face iwth it. “TOSHi YYou INgoRENT SlUT stop being EMO this isnt 2004 that shits not cute anymore fam”

toshi kept rcrying but now they were happey teers. “relly bro?? u think wer fam???”

nighteyey started wackin his ween. “o fuck ye dude, ur like my fuckably non-blood related older brother that id 10/10 would bang”

all mite opened his moth like he mIGHT (GET IT?!!??!1?) say words but befor that cold hapdlen, the door SLAMMED OPEN and nowmasa walked in.

“helo toshi my bff forever with whom i am best friends forever” he said, friendily. “i hav come to take care of u, my friEND!”

“NAO-NAO-CHAN!” toshi exclamed happely, his cockanoodledoo swellign up to the size of 3 lebron jameses with joy and knocking kniteey out the fuckin window. “MY BEST FRIEND FOREVER!!!!1! YOURE MY FRIEND AND I LOV U!!!”

“I LOV U TOO!!1” naomasa replied with much gaynes on his ordinary face.

“um E XC USUEE uuU!” niteeye saed angrielty as he crowled in thru the window, picking sticks out of his hare (sadly he left the stick up his ass). “TOshI who is this?!???”

“i could ask the SAME QUESTION!!” naomasma yelled with his boring eyes narrowing suspeciously. “toshi, who is this OTHER MAN??? is ther somethign u would liek to ExpLAnE?”

t0shi sweated nervsouly. “nao nao chan this is., um,, he,s,”

“IM NITEEYE” nighteye snapped, doing the anime glasses thing with his glasses. “his sidekiCk”

“ex sidekick” toshi added

“well iMM naomasa, his CURRENT best friend!” naomasa replied crossing his unremarkable arms.

“well ur currently abotu to get ur ass beAT u fuCKEN NORMIE” nighteye shouted threateningly as he flexed he collectiv 2 miligrams of muscle he had on his entire bodey.

“NORMIES REEE” shreiekd a fmailiar voice from the door which was still oepn.

“HIBACHI YAMDADDY???” nighteye roared, territorially draping his penis across toshinorys eyeball. “what teh abosulte Fuc K are u doign here you cheap hore???”

“excus u fucko im am NOt chEEP!” hizashy yelled igdignatly. “u can ask showta, it costs at LEAST three dollers to insrert ping pong balls up my ass! FOUR dolers if u wanna snort cockaeine off my stank tiddys.” hizashi lowered his voice shamefully. “the cokane isnt reel tho, its the powedery suger thing from like, pixy sticks. i cut open and shitlod of pixy sticks and sprinkle the sugar on my tiddys and predent its cocaine. MY LIFE IS A LIE!!!!”

“take ur fake tits and ur fake cocaein and your FAKE ASS KMART WEAVE AND GET YOUR SKANK ASS GONE, BITCH!” naomasa shrieked, taking out a fucking glock that he had bc he was a PolicemenTM and shoting hizasy in the dickhole.

hizashy bled 2 death on the flor but other than that he wuz fine. ‘wat are all u beta cucks doing her?? i thot this was all mitgh-senpais house not an incel convention”

“IM here taking care of super dady so he’ll repay me with the secks!” nighetye proclaimed proudly. “idk wat HES doing heer” he added pointing at naowmasa.

“Im supoorting my best friend you nutless heap of used scrotumz!” naomasa replied upsettedly. “bc im a GOOd PERson and I c ARE”

“how du u even KNOw ur best friends?” niteye asked snottily. “mayebe IM hi best friend!1”

“fat chance bozo!” naomaasa laffed as he tore off his plain white shirt revealign his chest wich was totally unremarkable except the tatto ritten in comick sanz that sed “ALL MIGHTES BEST FRIEND FORVER, LUV ALL MITE PS. SIR NITEEYE CAN LICK A CHODE”

nighteye gasped, infurieted and only slightly aroused. “ya well wateVER” he snapped pissily. “its not like some piece of shit tattoo is legaly binding”

naomasa turned around. “THIS TATOO IS LEGALY BINDING, SIGNED THE FUCKIGN GOVERNMENT OF JAPANESE???” nigtheye yelled loudly, reading the rest of the tatoo. “wel maybe i dont CARE about the law! im a bad bitch FUCK THA POLICE!!!”

naomasa smirked “all might sure is”

toshinori paused what he was doing- chewing off his own arm to escape- long enuff ot nod and conferm this fact so the fact was almost as firm as nighteyes salty rage boner.

be4 nightey could kik naomasa in the eyebal, aizawa walked in. he wasnt werring clothes but his nakeed body was covered in hair and appelsauce so it was basicaly hthe same thign.

“sup toshy” he said unceremonsioulsly faceplanting onto toshis bony ass. “i herd u got injured. want som simpathy secks?”

“Not from YUO, u BIG DUM DOODOOHEAD!” hizashi shrieked, thrusting angriyl against aizawa. he tenderly inserted his weenie hut jr into aizawas mouth. “from us.”

“wher did this walking bag of stray pubes come from?” noamasa asked confusedly.

“straight from ur moms house, pissbaby!” azawa roared sexily. “ya, thats rite, idk who ur mom even is and i fucked her.”

“but rnt u gay??” naomasa asked confusedly

“nowmasa ur denser than a bowling ball made of other, heavier bowling balls” nighteye snapped frustratedly. “ thats the JOKE!!”

“ur sex lifes a joke” aizawa sed, flipping his slimy hare over his sholder. thre ded flies fell out.

“OH SHIT SON GET DUNKED ON” hizashi yelled proudly hi-5ving aizawa with his dick.

“WHY DONT U GO FUCK A CAT YOU GREASY CUMSOCK” nighteye screamed enragedly as all the vains in his silly time sexin snake popped open.

“been ther don that” aizawa sed flatly “wy dont u shov ur hand up ur ass and c if u can find anymore shit comebacks”

“oh snap” naomasa whispered quietly

“YOU SINGLE PEACE OF STALE WHITE BREAD I WIL KIL U WERHE U STAND” nigheye SHREKED as allstar by smashmouth stared playing on hziashys neck speeker.

“pls comrades do not fite over me” said toshinory sadly “violenc dosnt turn me on, im not endeovor”

“endevor is literally the fuckign worst thign to excist ever” naomasa agreed

“iv sen the minion porn hizashy jacks off to but i still agree” aizawa also aggred

“MINIONS WITH FAT TITS ARE HOTTER THAN NEDEVORS STEAMING NIPPLES WILL EVER BE!” mic agreedded impassionetly!

“it seems like we all agree” said nighteye agreebly.

every1 agred.

“c were not so differnt are we?” said toshinoriy, putting down his half gnawed arm “cant we all b firends?”

“or we coudl all FUCK” hizashi suggested eagerly

“yes, share my body for the glory of cummunism!” all mighte was happey to say

“this isnt a herem anime u sack of shit weebs” ngihteye replied disgustedly

“wat about,,.” hizashy pulled down his pants reveelign the sord art online tato of kiritows face he got on his asscheek in the 4th grade “NOW”

nighteyse night eyes welled up with teers. “oh ddady,,” he tore off his shrit to show the tato of asunas face he had on his left boob “TAKE ME NOW”

they all fukced and toshinory coghed up blod multiple times, hizashy was mssing at least 40 percent of his penis, nighteye kept calling toshy “daddy”, naomasa responded to 3 calls from the polece station mid-nut, and they all got rugburn from aizawas big ol donkey dick the end

#bnha #here come dat fic o shit waddup #i spent like #two hours on this

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it-is-reigning-men · 7 years ago

Text

Something Worth Leaving Behind [Jeff Hardy x Reader Smut]

Request for @imaginelatenight: Jeff always going in the same club when he is in town, because he has fallen for the barkeeper.

A/N: Made the club a normal bar but it’s basically the same lol! And this turned into sort of a song fic as well because when I started writing this I heard this song on Spotify and thought it just fit with the concept. Sooo, without further ado, please enjoy! No warnings, just plot with smut.

Jeff had always gone to the same bar downtown— whenever he was in town.

Rather than it being a rather weekly experience, it turned into a visit every month or so since he had began his wrestling career. He knew everyone there; from the quirky manager down to the bus boys who always seemed to be cleaning tables. It was a family business, so it wasn’t really surprising.

The place, called Willow’s, by the way, only hired a handful of people not related to them by blood.

One of the lucky few was Y/N.

Jeff remembered clearly the day he met you; it had been almost two months since his last visit (due to a busy schedule and not always having the time to fly all the way back home even on days off) and he’d just gotten out of an argument with Matt. He had been searching for familiar faces and a good couple rounds of beer, but instead, he was greeted by a brand new face — bright eyed and smiling at him.

“Hiya. Can I get you something, sir?”

“Jeff.”

You blinked, the bustle of the bar around you muffling his voice.

“Sorry?”

Jeff cleared his throat, flickering his eyes down at his intertwined hands before looking up again; he realized he was probably staring.

“Jeff, you can call me that.”

You smiled, setting down a couple of shot glasses behind the counter after you finished drying them off.

“Alrighty, Jeff. So how about that drink, huh?”

“Just the house beer, thanks.” He returned the smile.

“Sure thin—”

“Ahem, I’m gonna need to see some ID first.” A lower voice cut in, and the two of you jumped; it was the manager Mr. Willow, wearing one of his ‘boss’ faces.

You gulped, toying with the collar of your grey and black uniform.

“I was about to ask for that,” You squeaked, looking terribly embarrassed.

Mr. Willow narrowed his eyes down at you a moment, but quickly flipped his expression around to a blinding smile. He reached over and clapped Jeff on the shoulder, laughing at Jeff’s furrowed expression.

“Only a joke, only a joke! This is one of our long time customers, kiddo. You should get used to seeing him from time to time.” The taller man addressed you kindly, patting your back once before shaking his head and sauntering away.

A silence passed, odd, since the bar was it’s usual busy lil nook, but it was ended when you took a sharp breath and turned to grab a mug and fill it with beer. You set it down in front of Jeff, the liquid damn near overflowing over the rim.

“Here you are. I’m really sorry about that,” You blurted, unsure as to why you were such a mess tonight. You half hoped you’d never be working whenever Jeff came back, and half hoped you would be working- just so you could make it up to him for being so ditzy.

Your flushed face melted away, however, when Jeff just chuckled and took a sip of the amber liquid— his green eyes peeking over at you as he did. When he set down the glass he licked his lips clean and leaned on the counter.

“What’re you apologizin’ for?”

“Oh, I dunno,” You glanced down the bar to see if any other customers needed anything; they were all otherwise inclined. “It’s just my first week here and I’m already messing up with the simplest things.”

Suddenly the last thing on Jeff’s mind was that stupid argument with Matt; at that time he just wanted to talk to you— you weren’t the same old people he traveled with, you weren’t family, and you weren’t some bumbling fan trying to paw at him. You were terribly worried about tiny things, basically the polar opposite of his high-risk, live for the moment life style.

“Lucky I came into town then,” Jeff rang, taking a shorter swig of his drink.

“Why’s that?” You raised a brow, the subtle things in your facial expressions always the most significant.

“I only come around every few months, next time I come Willow will probably have kicked ya out.”

The shock on your face was straight comical, but Jeff couldn’t stand looking at the mix of concern and offense too long. He swallowed harshly then let out a laugh.

“I’m kidding. I know this place, the Willows hardly ever hire anyone new— if you ain’t family. If Mr. Willow is already making jokes with you, you must be somethin’ real special.”

Your wide eyes stared at him, parted mouth slowly closing. For a moment Jeff thought you were gonna be mad, but all you did was huff and cross your arms, a ghost of a smile reappearing.

“Seems he isn’t the only one making jokes with me, Mr. Jeff,” you sniped, using the name that way simply to drive home the comparison. Jeff decided he liked it when you smirked at him like that.

The rest of that night was sprinkled with the two of you talking whenever you weren’t busy actually doing your job. Since you were still a little on edge, you tried not to just stand around and chat for too long or too often, but nevertheless it was enough.

It was enough for Jeff not to forget about you, and enough for him to look forward to seeing you again.

…

It seemed each time Jeff came back down he found out something new about you that kept him coming back.

One visit he found out you and him had very similar tastes in music. It was during one of the late Saturday Nights in which the bar strayed away from the live music and went for playlists created by the staff (a mix of personal favorites and requests from regulars).

Jeff had already been there around an hour before the Bluesy mix switched into a rock set list— comprised of songs he could say he’d played on repeat on the road. He was unconsciously nodding his head to the beat, swirling his drink in one hand and tapping his fingers on his knee with the other.

“You like that?”

“Hell yeah,” By now he recognized your voice and spun around in his stool to face you. “You too?”

“Well, seeing as this is my playlist, I hope so.” You tightened your ponytail, looking out over the small crowd dancing about. It was your second break, so you had at least 20 minutes to burn, get a snack too.

Jeff seemed a little taken aback at first, setting down his cup and now using both his hands to follow the familiar drums with his palms on his jeans.

“Didn’t take you to be a rocker chick.”

You lolled your head to one side, giving Jeff a side glance.

“And what did you take me to be?”

Jeff shrugged, grinning. “Like, country maybe? Alternative at most.”

You rolled your eyes, getting tired of Jeff always finding a way to ridicule you. It was still a lighthearted conversation, mind you, and you felt more comfortable talking to him as of late.

“I do like country. Just not the twangy-banjo type stuff; and alternative, if you’d believe it.”

“Variety. That’s not a bad thing.” Jeff said, but felt his heart beat a little faster when he saw your eyes snap close and your fingers do a cute little air guitar when it got to the song’s iconic riff.

“Exactly.” You mumbled, smiling and giggling as you dropped your hands, torn between feeling brave and shy.

There was small bell from behind you, and one of your coworkers slid a basket of fries over the counter to you.

“Your usual, Y/N. Fries n’ ranch.”

The halt in your conversation didn’t bother you at all, and you didn’t hesitate taking a bite out of a couple fries after dipping them. Jeff’s eyes flickered between you and the dance floor, a new song just starting.

“So, since you’re into all that music, I’m guessin’ you got some dancing genes in there,” Jeff wagged his brows, shaking his shoulders.

You nearly choked, but managed the food down with some effort. As adorable as Jeff’s tiny preview was, you didn’t have such genes.

“Ahem, no. I’m more the singing in the shower, dance while I’m home alone, person.”

Jeff frowned, but didn’t let up. He swung onto his feet, holding out open palms and trying to beckon you away from your perch against the bar.

“Oh cmon. If you can do either of those things at all, you can do them in a room full of people who are probably too drunk to remember it anyway.”

You honest to god considered it - if only for a fleeting period - but rubbed your neck and crossed your feet.

“Maybe someday. But,” He started swaying his hips side to side, making some silly face. You snorted, but turned around and focused back on your French fries. As much as you liked seeing him around, he wasn’t going to go suckering you into doing stuff you weren’t comfortable with just because he made you laugh. “Not right now okay?”

Jeff had to say that one hurt more than he expected it to. But he wasn’t going to force you, so he sat back down, resting his chin on his arm.

“… Don’t be all depressed about it. Feel free to go dance if you want to dance. There are plenty of girls that would probably love to have a partner.” You felt almost guilty, seeing him suddenly looking bored.

“Not in the mood, you’re kind of a kill joy.”

Your jaw dropped, even if you could see it in his eyes that he was still messing with you.

“Alright, so you shouldn’t wanna dance with me anyway. I saved you a waste of time and it looks like my break’s about to be over anyway, Jeff.” You threw him some sass, and popped a fry into your mouth as you took the basket to walk away.

He further tilted his head, pouting his lips.

“I’m gonna hold you to that 'someday,’ ya know.”

You stopped just behind the counter, gifting him one last glance.

“I guess… I did say maybe.”

The night ended with you exchanging phone numbers.

…

You were sprawled across your bed, humming something to yourself when you heard your phone buzz. The noise not only startled you (more than it should’ve) but it also made you lose track of the tune in your head.

You sighed, rolling over and expecting the message to be from work.

From: Mr. Jeff [ I should be back in town in a couple weeks!]

So, not work.

… Just what you looked forward to seeing at work; even if you always had to wait for it.

You replied:

[ Y the heads up? Usually just come whenever u want to ]

Another buzz.

[ Not whenever I want to. Whenever I can :p ]

You smirked in amusement at the small emoticon. Why was it he sounded so cute in texts?

[ Ok. Cya soon.]

Buzz.

[ You ready for that dance yet? ]

You blushed, having hoped he would forget.

[ Nope, sorry :/ ]

Hopefully that wasn’t too bitchy.

[ Someday ;p what’re you doing ? Slacking off at work?]

[ It’s the weekend Jeff. ]

[ I’m working on some new ring moves w/ Matt. I can email a video later if u want ]

That made you pause. You glanced down at the mess of paper underneath your elbows before texting him back.

[ Don’t know how I’m gonna help with that? ]

[ Praise me. Or blackmail me if it’s terrible ]

You smiled widely, feeling happy enough to feel like you were actually talking to him in person. You really didn’t know much about wrestling, but you’d honestly only watched it whenever he was performing— and even then only on days when the bar happened to have it on the TVs.

You’d probably watch it more if you bothered paying for cable in your apartment, but that, you did not. Still, you supported Jeff doing anything that he loved.

[ Sounds like a plan my man lol ]

What the fuck ? You retyped.

[ Sounds like a plan. Better be good then c: ]

Some hours passed with him just throwing random thoughts your way, and the occasional long periods of silence in which he was back practicing. You wondered who else he texted like this; not in a jealous way, but more, curious.

The more you saw him or texted him, the more you were simultaneously accustomed to and unnerved by his presence in your life.

You had a crush, admittedly.

If only you knew.

…

Jeff had kept his promise of being back in town within the next week and a half— however, you never really had the specifics of when he’d appear in the bar, so you were never quite prepared.

You were on duty, having just served a nice Dirty Martini to one of the older women that came to the bar weekly. In the pocket of your waist apron, you had a small notebook that you only pulled out briefly to jot things down that popped into your head at the darndest of times. You had to, though, lest you forget and end up kicking yourself for it.

You were scribbling words down frantically, not wanting to have your attention off potential customers for more than thirty seconds. Clicking your blue pen, you flipped the notebook shut just as someone took a seat right in front of you.

“What’s up, buttercup? You writing down ya grocery list or somethin’?”

You flinched, pocketing the book.

“No.”

Wow, great comeback.

He raised his brows, staring only at you as if he expected more words to come.

“You’re really not gonna tell me what it is?”

“I have a right to secrets.”

Jeff had discovered somewhere down the line that he had a gift — at least one that came in handy when he was with you, in person. Countless times he’d wished he was able to utilize it via text, but sadly, it wasn’t so.

You would’ve been smart to scurry over to the next customer that had just taken a stool only a few spaces down from Jeff; however, one of the other bartenders was quick to their station and you were forced to shift your weight between your feet instead.

Upon glancing at Jeff, he was pulling a serious set of puppy dog eyes on you.

Sweet Jesus.

On top of that his soft-looking lips were slowly curling up at the corners, everything about him begging you to just let your whole soul out for the world to see.

And all he freakin’ wanted was to know what you wrote in your notebook.

It was a wonder how you didn’t turn into some kind of puddle right then and there.

Clenching your jaw, you puffed out a breath through your nose and felt your face warming before you even uttered the truth.

“Lyrics.” You murmured.

He leaned closer, internally feeling triumphant— but also,

“—What?”

“Song… stuff. Okay?”

Jeff’s suave demeanor flickered away, a look of childish excitement taking its place.

“You said lyrics? I thought I heard that, but then I thought— Ms. Only-Sings-In-The-Shower would never—”

“I do only sing in the shower. You don’t have to sing for other people if you happen to write songs..”

“That’s true. But you do have to sing for me now.” Jeff beamed and the skin around his eyes crinkled from smiling so wide.

“I’m pretty sure I shall not.” You said incredulously.

“— Can I geh anothuh beer, shweet cheeks?” A rugged, slurred voice interrupted, and only then you realized you and Jeff had hardly broken eye contact this entire time.

You turned toward the man down the bar, his frame slumped partially over as he waved his empty mug. His bleary eyes glanced right back at you before bravely trailing down your body. Your mouth formed a straight line and you didn’t dare see what Jeff looked like at that moment; you grabbed another chilled mug and filled it an inch below the rim before walking it over to him.

“I really recommend this be your last one for the night.” And you forced a smile before pivoting and going back to somewhere near Jeff. Willow’s had no drink limit, customers drank at their own discretion— but if anyone ever got out of hand Mr. Willow himself always called he or she a cab and got them back wherever they had to be. Or he phoned up a relative if the trouble maker happened to be a local.

All the while, Jeff was clenching his fist under the wood of the bar surface, hardly holding back from getting up and whopping the man right across the jaw when he heard a sharp cat-call echo your way while you were walking. The drunkard’s eyes never left you as he drank and hiccuped.

Your knuckles slid across the polish of the bar edge and you narrowed your gaze at Jeff.

“I’m used to drunks like that. Their heads aren’t on right and they’re probably whistling at any girl they see,”

“Especially one that looks like you, Y/N.” Jeff said vehemently, his annoyance fully aimed at the man.

“He’s starin’ because you’re too nice to slap him like he deserves.”

You’d never seen him react like that before - not that he was usually around on the sparse occasions that this happened. He seemed genuinely furious, his green irises darkened under his hooded eyelids.

“Jeff, don’t do anything… stupid. Why’re you acting all jealous?” You rushed out, knitting your brows together. You understood a friend being protective, but you could see his arm tensed from making a fist.

He took a deep breath and locked eyes with you, voice calm…ish; never contradicting your accusation of jealousy.

“How’s this sound? You sing some of your song for me, I don’t punch that lard ass for eye-fuckin’ you? If not, I’m gonna go ahead,” He hitched up a biting smirk, his fisted hand tapping on the bar before releasing so he could push off of it to stand up.

With that ultimatum he seemed set on betting you weren’t gonna go serenading him this moment, or even any time soon, and over-eager to start a bar fight. It wasn’t a shot at you, it was just a more creative way of saying he didn’t want you to stop him (only because he was used to you being shy).

You reached over the bar, snatching a hold of his arm.

He’d just barely lifted off his bar stool when you did, sitting back down immediately at feeling your hand on him.

His brows were still arched, but his fiery eyes dampened when they swiveled back down to you, awkwardly pressed over the bar counter and still squeezing onto him like you thought you’d lose him to the void.

“I.. I uhm…”

His attention from his designated target was dwindling.

“Lean closer would you?” You mumbled, eyes locked on an old chip on the wooden surface between you.

Jeff didn’t exactly know what the point was, but set aside his agenda for the time being, thinking perhaps you’d even tell him to punch the guy extra hard cause he’d bothered you before or something.

You did no such thing.

Clearing your throat, you quietly hummed something to get your note, before whisper-singing a small bit of the song you’d been working on. You had fears, doubts, and that feeling this wasn’t actually happening, but it was. Your voice was small, almost cracking due to how low you were uttering it, but was pleasant nonetheless.

“… H-Hey Mozart, what kind of name is Amadeus? It’s kinda like Elvis… you gotta die to be famous.”

You breathed deeply, wondering whether to continue or not — your eyes saw Jeff was still rather tense, so you, hesitantly, continued.

“…I may not go down in history, I just want someone… to remember me,”

Your sweet rasp died off like a flame, and you swallowed thickly, hand flinching away from the bicep you had still been tethering yourself to.

Why did you just do that? That was painfully awkward, and you’d just latched onto him like some psychopath —

Head dipped, cheeks burning, you dared a peek at Jeff. His face was unreadable. Blank. But his body had gone completely lax, his arms draped over his legs and his frame rocked slightly toward you.

“You really can’t stand violence, can you,” he spoke, the question rhetorical. You bit your lip, wanting to laugh or something but not making a noise.

“Your voice is beautiful, Y/N.” He went on, eyes sparkling in the dim lighting.

You shook your head, knowing that especially singing that low almost nobody sounded very good. He thought otherwise, and was hell bent on spending the rest of his life convincing you of that if he had to. Jeff couldn’t have cared less about the drunkard anymore— couldn’t have cared less if everyone else in the room just up and left.

He wanted to hear you more.

Honestly, he sorta realized all at once that he wanted to hear you everyday, and not just singing — maybe it was because he’d realized you’d just done something you’d never done for anyone else (and for what? He didn’t get why you liked him, when you were so pure). It clicked for him that he’d been doing every single thing on the road just because he wanted to get it over with and get back home to see you every once and awhile. Jeff loved wrestling— but he was beginning to think something topped that.

You began to sweat it, feeling tinier under his unwavering gaze and silence.

“I should probably… get back to work before Mr. Willow sees me messin’ around. Just don’t start a fight, okay—?” You had no idea what was going through Jeff’s head, so you half expected this whole messy encounter to end with him bursting into laughter or something.

It didn’t, of course.

Jeff could feel the words 'I love you,’ on the tip of his tongue - just thinking them making him feel lightheaded and overwhelmed - but all that came out instead was a casual invitation.

“Alright. But, before you go… I was wonderin’ if you wanted to visit my house tomorrow? I have an extra day off this week,” He’d forgotten to mention that. “And after tonight I have to hear more of that song.”

You searched his eyes for humor, but there was none, only sincerity.

“If you want, I could even play some guitar for you, if you have a tune in mind—”

“I-I don’t really write instrumental, I just hear it in my head,” You stammered, operating on some sort of reflex; it wasn’t sinking in that he was actually inviting you to his h o m e.

Just you and him.

“That’s okay. I can play by ear if you hum it for me.”

Oh my god.

“Uhm… if it’s alright with you… I suppose?” What you were saying didn’t at all match the panic inside; you didn’t even think you could sing for him again - let alone have some jam session in his 'humble abode’.

Jeff was just smiling that subtle smile all the while, though, and it was like nothing could get you to come up with a miraculous excuse like you always had when he pushed your buttons.

“Course it’s alright with me, do you want my address or do you want me to pick you up?”

You blinked, feeling dumb.

“I can drive over, I’d feel bad otherwise,” you laughed nervously. It was too late to go back now, and hell, if you chickened out of singing (you thought you might) you’d at least have your car to run to.

Jeff felt truly surprised that he didn’t have to further convince you - not that he was complaining. He felt a wave of relief that you actually wanted to spend more time with him; after all, the two of you had never actually hung out outside of Willow’s.

That was a crime, in his book.

…

Early the next morning you awoke to the realization that you were supposed to meet at Jeff’s house in a little less than an hour.

The need to arrive on time surged through your veins; that was a trait since you’d had the responsibility to be punctual at all— and that alone was what was getting your limbs to get moving.

You had hardly gotten any sleep the night before due to livid thoughts that somehow you’d end up making a fool of yourself and never be able to face Jeff again.

God, the dramatics only made you annoyed with yourself.

It was a constant back and forth— and apparently the morning was no different, but you were still getting ready without fail. Brushed your teeth twice because you lost track of what you were doing, but you were getting there. You threw on a pair of soft shorts and short sleeve band-T, under no impression that your 'jam session’ would require any sort of dress up or fancy business.

You enjoyed being comfortable on weekends.

Also, maybe wearing your favorite band would serve as a good luck charm; so you jogged out to your car and headed on over to the so-called, Hardy compound.

…

Jeff hadn’t been pulling your leg when he said you might have trouble finding his house — thankfully, he’d provided good pointers and once you found the path it was easy breezing. You liked the sound of dirt under your wheels and the rustic scenery of the forest was unfamiliar, yet intriguing… even more so when you broke from the dense forest into the well groomed grasses of the front yard.

You wouldn’t think there would be such nice properties hidden back here.

Just as you twisted your key and turned off the car, the front door to the house swung open; you thought maybe Jeff had heard or seen you pull up, but the man you saw in the doorway was a vaguely-known face.

It was Matt, the brother you’d only seen on the TV’s; Jeff had said he was never around to be introduced at the bar because he was always at home with his kids. That put him in a good light, so you hopped out of your car and started walking up to the doorway.

“I’ll pick you up for the air port tomorrow then,” Matt said, turning around and smiling when he noticed you approaching. You returned it awkwardly, raising a hand to wave.

“Ah, you must be Y/N. Sorry this is the first time we’re meeting,” He held out a hand to shake, “Jeff’s talked about you a lot, so I kinda feel like I know you.”

You huffed a laugh, glad to take the firm hand shake.

“He talkin’ trash about me, I bet.” You jested, and Matt gave you a chuckle.

“Yeah, the most trash I’ve ever heard him talk about a gal.”

Jeff surfaced at the door then, slightly flustered as if he’d ran to the door and tried to slow himself right as he opened it.

“Y/N! I didn’t know you were here, you should'a rang,”

Matt gave you a pat on the shoulder, grinning back at his brother.

“My fault. I was just introducing myself, cause someone never got around to doing it.” Matt suggested that he wanted to have met you sooner— and supposing Jeff had so casually invited you over to his house, you almost wondered why you hadn’t.

“We’ve been… busy,” Jeff dismissed, stepping out so he was a bit closer. He looked guilty.

“Yeah yeah, well, I hope to see more of you whenever we’re all in town, Y/N. Maybe then Jeff will talk less trash about you.” Matt still flashed his pearly whites and left you with a wink and a thumbs up, slightly jerked in Jeff’s direction. He knew something you didn’t.

Jeff gestured you into the house, trying his best to ignore whatever he could feel Matt teasing about.

(Jeff had spilled a lot of beans to his brother about his feelings for you, anyway.)

…

The inside of the house - or really - mansion, was just as grand as the outside. Nice, high ceilings, clean floors, staircases, and splashes of color from large, mounted paintings around the walls.

You approached one of the pieces without thinking, air-tracing along the thick black lines of what looked to be several faces melting together.

You were simultaneously fascinated and indifferent about the bright pink eyes staring back at you as you spoke.

“Where are these guys from?” You weren’t sure if you were referring to the faces in this one piece or to the many more on the various other paintings; Jeff answered both.

“My imag-i-nation, I'suppose.” Jeff rubbed his neck, unsure if you liked them or not.

“I paint in my spare time.” He extended.

Stepping back and gaping at him, you followed him into the next room, under the open archway.

“You did all these?”

“…Yep, I would explain what they all mean, but even I’m not sure about some of them,”

“Open for interpretation then.” You reassured, eyes trailing from his dashing smile to a half painted canvas leaning against the wall. “I’ve dabbled in art myself.”

Jeff tilted his head, grabbing at the neck of his guitar.

“Seriously?”

You paused.

“No. I’m a terrible artist. In like… every way.”

Jeff laughed and you did too, though your buzzing died off as Jeff took a seat on the couch arm rest just a couple feet from where you were sitting. His guitar rested on his legs, nestled against him as he tuned it subtly.

“Nothing wrong with that. If you were some amazin’ artist then you’d be way too perfect and I’d go thinkin’ you’re not real or something.”

That sentence got you feeling giddy inside, but you just scratched the bridge of your nose and weren’t sure what to say.

“You ready to grace me with more of your lyrics, darlin’?”

Jeff sure was laying it on thick with the compliments and pet names— not that he’d never used those, but you were on edge as it were and him being all… cute about everything was only making it worse. And he was staring at you. And you had no other customers to glance at or run off to now.

It finally settled in how nervous he always made you feel; before now you had always just had distractions that helped you deny that.

“I… I forgot the words..?”

No, dumbass, you had the words right in your hands — you were gripping tight to the notebook you always left in your car. Jeff’s eyes flickered to the familiar article but he didn’t antagonize you.

“I’m sure you’ve got jitters. We could start with you just humming a tune for me to follow, then maybe I’ll get some singin’ outta you again,” His tone was soft, encouraging not pushing. You eventually got to actually creating sound… singing the words in your mind but only letting the notes of them vibrate through your closed lips.

Jeff picked up quickly, and soon enough the hums transmuted into crisp guitar plucks; even sooner those mentally spoken words attached to said notes were spilling out of you … and you didn’t quite get that moment of clarity till Jeff had shifted down from the arm rest to the cushion right next to you and overlapped his lower voice with your’s as you sang out the last verse (you had so far).

“…If I will love then I will find, I have touched another life and that’s something,”

You swallowed thickly, peeking up only enough to see Jeff’s fingers strumming.

“…something worth leaving behind,” You sang slowly, quieter again, and your embarrassment was partially forgotten due to the mesmerization of hearing his honeyed accent echo your voice.

He stopped his playing, planting a hand over the strings to stop them.

“How do you get me to do things I can’t even imagine doing..?” Even now you were speaking out unlike your normal self, and it was all his fault.

“How do you get me to want to do everything with you?” He rejoined, his guitar leaving your sights as he kept his body pointed toward you. You still didn’t want to look up at his face, because this didn’t feel right.

“I don’t know.” You said, honestly. Why did he always only go to you when he visited the bar? Why did he always text after matches you’d just seen?

“I do.” He murmured, his hand cautiously coming up to brush against your chin, tilting it up like he thought you’d pull away if he touched any firmer than that. He wanted to see your eyes, no matter how you would respond to this.

“You’re what keeps me goin’ when the job gets tough. You’re the one thing I hate leaving behind when I’m out on the road,” His finger tips gradually spread, and his hand danced along your jawline toward your ear as he noticed you didn’t pull away or flinch— you stayed deathly still, eyes only blinking when they had to.

“…I think I…” His fingers trailed further, twining into the roots of your hair at the back of your head. “I think I love you, Y/N.”

His face was closer now than it had ever been, but he seemed stuck at a few inches away— he wanted you to respond somehow before he went and kissed you because he wasn’t sure how he’d react once he did what he’d thought about doing so many times.

You fumbled, wetting your lips with the tip of your tongue; Jeff tensed, hand slipping ever-so-slightly down the back of your neck.

“I think so too,” you breathed, but realized that sounded incorrect. “I mean— I think I love you,”

But grammar or exact comprehension aside, Jeff had gotten his response. Lips crushed against your’s, his other hand joined in to pull your face toward him. It was fast, frantic actions, yet, somehow gentle enough to feel as if you were leaning into it more than he was tugging you.

You puffed out the breath you’d been holding through your nose, and you closed your eyes tightly, lips pressing back. There was every ounce of two years of tension being unfurled in a single kiss — and then tension melted into desire once you broke apart.

“I never stop thinkin’ about you,” Jeff whispers, getting lost in your eyes as they open again. He recalls the first time you met, and the memory draws him forward to kiss you again, his hands sliding down your shoulders.

Both of you have half-lidded eyes, lips attacking one another’s while you refuse to break the eye contact; he deftly pushes you back into the soft couch, your back cozying into the pillows. He gives your lower lip a bit of a harsh bite, his tongue massaging over it in apology.

You make a tiny sound, your hand pulling softly at the base of his hair.

“Sorry,” Jeff rumbles, assuming you wanted him to be nicer. He couldn’t help it, your mouth was irresistible before and was even more so now.

“No,” You stroke his locks back, smiling sheepishly as you part your legs so he can scoot closer to your body. “I can tell you’re trying hard to be all good and gentle because you’re assuming things about me again.”

He furrows his brows, blushing with his frame pressing into your’s, his arousal prominent against your shorts.

“Don’t.” You kiss him chastely. “Do whatever your body’s telling you to do… I want it.” This time your tongue brazenly traces against his mouth, breaching and lapping against Jeff’s. You’d denied it till now, but since it was happening, you weren’t gonna let anything ruin this moment — not even Jeff’s own cautions.

“I didn’t take you to be into rough sex.” Jeff retorts, voice gruffer as he rolls his hips against you. He’s clearly liking whatever you’re insinuating, his worries going out the window.

“Well, I am not against it. And I’m not against gentle love-making either;” This was totally different, but sorta like how he’d been when he was surprised at your taste in music.

“-How’d you say it before? Variety. Variety’s good,” You were proud of your stellar memory, and starting to lose your full voice as you panted. His hips were in full motion, only making you wetter as the friction continued.

He smirked, rolling up the bottom of your t-shirt.

“So this won’t be the last time we do this, is what you’re sayin’?” His hands continue to bring your shirt up, till you have to lift your arms to get it off.

“That depends on how good it is.” You stifle a laugh but whimper unintentionally when he kneads one of your breasts firmly. "All I’m saying is don’t be afraid of biting me, geez.“ Your voice sounds sassier then, and he growls, rutting into your clothed core as he leans down to nip around your collar bone, finding a spot to suck in a love mark.

In all honesty, you weren’t always the type to tease people in bed, but that back and forth dynamic had always been present with you two — that, and whatever it was doing to Jeff’s sex drive was well worth it.

"If you end up sore in the mornin’, just know you asked for it,” He promises lightly, eying the now several pinkish spots on your collar and neck that were sure to darken by tomorrow. You felt tingly, suddenly too hot in your already minimal clothing.

“Good thing I’m not working then,” You huffed, impatiently pulling at Jeff’s tank top now; it too was discarded, and things moved fast from there.

You allowed your eyes to rake over his bare skin, in awe of the details of his tattoos that you’d been missing out on. You gulped, pads of your fingers following the thin trail of hair down his abs that led to the band of his pants. He didn’t stop you.

As you rubbed him first over his underwear, you felt your heart jump at the apparent size he was packing — your palm rubbing over the thickness more when he moaned unabashedly. Your hand went into the material, adjusting his length in his pants so the tip of it stuck out of the waist band while you gave it firm, steady strokes.

He twitched, his teeth latching to the straps of your bra and pulling them down your shoulders, all before he actually slipped his hands under your back to unhook the article, hoping you’d shift your arms enough to let him get the damn thing off so he could see all of you.

As aroused as you were, somehow insecurities managed to creep up the shoulders that your straps were being tugged down. It was obvious he wanted you, and probably had for a long time (not to mention you literally had a hand in his pants), but you still managed to be blushing as you retracted your hand from his growing erection and bent your arms to slowly slip off your bra. But his eyes never left you for a moment, and by the look of his blown pupils and ever-shifting gaze, he loved every single inch of you.

“Why did it take so long for us to end up here?” Jeff rambled, sounding frustrated as he peppered kisses from your throat down to your breasts; he didn’t want an answer, because he was already grateful that you even reciprocated his feelings.

Yet, he was still going to do everything in his power to let you know just how long he’s wanted you like this.

Jeff reminded himself you didn’t mind biting.

“U-uhnf…” you whimpered, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh briefly, replaced in time with a warm, wet tongue as he circled around your perked nipples. Your nails dug into his shoulder blades as he ravished your chest, his rough hands pressed up against the curve of your back to pull you into his embrace and upright.

He leaned back against the couch, situating your trembling body onto his lap, your feet dangling off the couch.

Jeff dipped his hands right into your shorts the moment you were there, his hands going past your panties and giving your ass a nice squeeze. It shocked you, and you felt embarrassed at the startlingly erotic noise that came out.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this cute lil ass whenever you went by in your uniform.”

Your mouth hung open, and he didn’t hesitate running his fingers down your crevice, grazing your hole before coming in contact with the wetness of your pussy.

“…pervert.” You retorted late, mind wandering to where his hands were.

“Mm.” Is all he returned, bottom lip disappearing between his teeth as he eventually got you out of your shorts and panties — they were too soaked to be any use anyway. His green eyes flickered up to your’s, a couple of his fingers rubbing over your opening while his other hand groped your thigh.

“No turning back after this, baby…” Jeff rasped, all but thrusting his fingers right into you as they massaged your heat.

“Not even an option, Mr. Jeff. Stop hesitating—” The arousal on your voice caused him to lick his lips, his fingers finally penetrating and pumping into you. Your breath hitched, his movements making your walls tighten around his fingers every few thrusts because you were acutely aware of how long it had been since you last fucked anyone.

“Relax… I got ya,” Jeff cooed into your ear, fingers occasionally changing their angle or spreading when he felt you shudder. Your hips rolled down into them, though you were still hovering just above his covered erection.

You gasped, his fingers abruptly pulling out of you and working against your clit— the first time he touched your sensitive bud was with the moisture of your own arousal.

“Fuck—” you mewled, eyes fluttering shut as he switched back and forth from shallow finger-fucking to curling his fingers deeper and back to rubbing over your clit like a well-oiled machine; just as breathing began to get uneven, he lifted you off and got you lying back on the other side of the couch.

Back touching the cooler side of the couch, where Jeff had swiped off any extra pillows so you would be lying completely flat, you stared up at the beautiful man hovering over you. Even in the haze of sex, the smile he gave you was affectionate — warm, and the last you saw before he crawled down your body. First, he sat back on his calves to undo his jeans button and zipper, shimmying out of the hinderance. You started to sit up, wanting to return the pleasure he’d been giving you the past few minutes, but he clicked his tongue and lightly pushed you back down.

“Another time, sugar. Right now I’m in charge.” He drawled, eyes narrowed as he dragged his hands from the sides of your ribs down to the bend of your knees, where he spread your legs and propped one of them up on the back of the couch.

God, your toes curled at his tone, and you felt dirty and excited because of it. Jeff smirked, head going to the crux of your legs and starting with an open-mouthed kiss to your clitoris.

You hissed out a moan, the cold air of the room contrasting with the hot mouth lapping at your folds; he wiggled his tongue into your entrance, groaning lewdly at the taste of you. Long strokes and kitten licks of that talented tongue had you writhing in no time, the sensitivity making your hands push at his shoulders.

“J-Jeff… please… stop,” You cried, not wanting your first orgasm to fully hit before you two were one.

He couldn’t help giving you one last lick before he came up, a bit of a dopey smile on his face as he kissed up your stomach.

“You ready for me?” He spoke against your skin, his hips shifting uncomfortably as he withheld from touching himself.

“Been ready,” cheekily, you huffed out, though really you were dying every moment you were left exposed and feeling empty.

Jeff only grinned, planting a sloppy kiss on you.

“Impatient, ya are.”

Your noses touched, and you felt him caressing your inner thighs.

“I’ve always waited for you, I think I’ve earned being a little impatient—”

You felt something heavy against your heat, the length rubbing against you softly. It was unclear when exactly Jeff had managed to shuck off his underwear, but it was prevalent with the way you could feel the throb of his dick against you, but not quite where you needed it to be.

Your back arched and you groaned, your heels pressing into his lower back as if to get him to get the picture.

“Jeff…”

The motions only ensued a moment or two longer before he reared back his hips, using one of his hands to steady himself at your opening; it was all slow-motion, and you almost couldn’t breathe at the initial push in. The head of his cock slid in relatively easy with how slick and prepped you were, but that still didn’t change how unbelievable it felt as he pushed in deeper, stretching you and making you let out a broken moan.

There was a twinge of pain at first, but by the time his full length was all the way in, you were clenching around him slightly, wanting more; your eyes had shut during the initial thrust, but they peeked open to stare up at Jeff as he caged your face in with both his hands.

Your hips lifted, grinding into him as much as you could just as you tugged his hair to kiss the air out of him; your tongues began to battle for dominance and his hips finally got to jerking into you, hard and deep.

He let you win the battle in your makeout, your tongue exploring his mouth hungrily as you both mewled into one another — your control of the kiss contrasted his control of your hips meeting and all the erotic sounds started mixing in a way that had you in a heavenly trance.

Neither of you would last very long, with you already on edge from before and him hardly getting off aside from actually being inside you, so you made it count.

Giving Jeff’s lower lip a bite like he had done to your’s, your leg shifted up his back, wanting him to take you even closer. He breathed harshly, reaching around to hook your leg and get it over his shoulder, thrusting more frantically at the new angle.

Both of you let out loud moans, eyes no longer closing and keeping your heart’s connected—

“Please… faster, mngh, J-Jeff..—” Your brows knitted together as you began to tighten around him again, the sound of skin slapping together making your blood race.

“Yes, baby… fuck… you’re so perfect,” he grunted, his hand squeezing your knee that rested against his shoulder.

“C-Come with me,” You pleaded, hardly able to speak with the way he was punching moans out of you now, pushing your body down into the couch with his motions.

“Fuckin'— fu… Y/N…” He thrusted in a few more times, ramming into your sweet spot too much for you to handle and sending you over the edge; you squeezed around his dick as you orgasmed, throwing your head back into the couch while you rode out his last couple thrusts, just before he came buried inside you.

You felt even fuller than before, and as you slowly relaxed, your leg slipping down off of him, you felt a bit of his cum seep out.

It wasn’t that either of you cared about the couch at this point, but it was just an observation.

The two of you took your time catching your breath, Jeff getting awkwardly comfortable laying his head against your chest after he pulled out. One of your arms nested under your head while the opposite hand stroked over Jeff’s sweat-soaked hair.

“…I really love you, you know that?” Jeff murmured dreamily.

You snickered, scratching over the back of his neck in comfort.

“…I think I got the picture.” You stared at his head, since he was still lying there. “I… really love you too.”

He shifted so his chin nuzzled below your collar bone, eyes up at you with pure adoration and dulled lust.

“Least now I know how I can make you sing, for sure.”

Of course he still had to tease you.

You rolled your eyes, covering his face with your palm so he wouldn’t see you blush. He blew a raspberry into it, which shouldn’t have bothered you after all that had just gone down, but you withdrew your hand nonetheless in surprise.

He laughed, flashing his white teeth while he twined your fingers with his own.

“Just promise you’ll show me more of your songs next time, okay, darlin’?”

“We’ll see.” You tried being stubborn, but your voice held no malice with him looking at you that way.

“Well, I promise to continue botherin’ you at Willow’s then.” He stuck his tongue out. “And I promise that I wasn’t lyin’ when I said you never leave my mind when I’m not with you.”

After a second, you whispered back. “Trust me, you never left my mind either.”

One more smile. One more kiss. One more little chuckle. Then you were squirming out from under him, making him look at you in confusion.

“Think we can hop in the shower now?”

Now he rolled his eyes, but grabbed your hand and helped you up to lead you toward the bathroom.

“Princess can’t stand being a lil dirty for a second, huh.”

“Maybe Princess just wants to get dirty somewhere besides your couch, Mr.”

You felt his grip tighten and his steps quicken more immediately.

…

God, now whenever he left it would only make waiting all the more painstaking. But still… it was worth it, because you knew he’d always get back— and you never really left each other in the first place.

#jeff hardy #jeff hardy smut #jeff hardy fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #wwe smut #wwe imagine #reader insert

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imaginetonyandbucky · 7 years ago

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Savor the Flavor

777 - I just want a fic where Bucky just smiles all the time because of Tony. And maybe Steve is excited for him, and teases him that he found someone, and Bucky just smiles even wider, because Tony is amazing. (Steve is probably not thrilled that it's Tony at first, but when he sees them together he knows that they are both serious about it and more importantly, happy with each other, he judged Tony too quickly, and he's sorry.)

https://www.walgreens.com/store/c/smackers-best-flavor-forever-lip-balm-set-assorted/ID=prod6339164-product

“What is all this?” Steve crossed massive arms over his ridiculously oversized chest -- no, really, his chest wasn’t that big, Thor was at least another twenty percent larger in every direction, but Steve wore his shirts entirely too tight, which made him look enormous -- and scowled.

Bucky was cross-legged on the sofa, going through his stash. He picked up a brown bag of hard candies and threw it at Steve. “I didn’t forget you, punk,” he said.

“No, seriously,” Steve said, snagging the horehound candies out of midair and opening it. Steve was a sucker for sweets, but they couldn’t be too sweet. His tastebuds still hadn’t come out of the forties, so Bucky always looked for something “old fashioned” for him. Steve thought Bucky was making fun, but really, Bucky was just keeping track of what Steve would actually eat. “What… what is this?”

“Lip balm,” Bucky said. He flicked through his collection and picked out one of the beewax sticks. The same way Steve didn’t much care for a Snickers bar, he wasn’t going to like honey-pear flavored lip wax.

Steve glanced at the tube. “You’re dodgin’ the question, jerk,” Steve said.

“Blame Nat,” Bucky said. “I bite my lip a lot, apparently. An’ the serum does a lot, but sometimes when I’m tense, it gets all chapped. She let me have one of hers, but I didn’t like the way it smelled.”

“So you bought fifty of them?” Steve ran a hand through the tubes, the click of plastic rubbing was oddly soothing.

“Mighta got carried away,” Bucky admitted. He was oddly fascinated by the sheer variety of things in the future. Everything from soup to nuts had a million different options. When he got it into his head to try something new, he wanted to try all of it. Over compensating for decades of having no choices, perhaps.

Steve’s fingers faltered. “Um, Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“Red, white, and blueberry?” Steve was holding up one of the tubes between two fingers like he thought it might be toxic.

Bucky smirked. “What, they had a whole line of ‘em,” he said. “You think I honestly wasn’t gonna buy one of each?”

“What do you mean, the whole --”

Bucky plucked several tubes out and lined them up on the coffee table. “Invincible Chocolate, Vanilla Em-power-mint, Cotton Candy Dream Team…”

Steve selected another tube from the line up. “You’re smearing something called Billionaire Root Beer on your mouth?”

“What, what’s this?” Tony said, coming into the common room. “Did someone say my name in vain?” He glanced down at Bucky’s horde. Bucky resisted the urge to gather all of his lip balms up and flee the room. His cheeks burned, but he couldn’t quite help peering at Tony though his lashes.

Tony snagged the tube out of Steve’s hand and admired it. The cap was bright blue, the tube itself orange, with a print of comic-book Iron Man on it. “Oh, wow, I didn’t know they made these. JARVIS, would you look ‘em up and get me a full set, yeah?”

“Of course, sir,” JARVIS said, his voice somehow reflecting amusement, exasperations, and disapproval all at the same time. “Do you wish to acquire a set of the keychains as well?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Full. Set.”

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS said. “Expect delivery within the week.”

So, does it taste like me?” Tony selected another one. He read the label and snickered about it before putting the Sour Apple Smash in its green tube back on the table

“Not like I tasted you before,” Bucky said.

Steve inhaled, just a little more sharply than before, and suddenly Bucky realized what he’d said. His neck heated uncomfortably. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing Tony before, but…

“Oh, well, Queen Elsa, I can think of a few ways to fix that,” Tony said, his eyebrow going up. Bucky might have thought he was kidding, did think Tony was kidding, right up until Tony’s tongue darted out of his mouth to wet his upper lip. All the blood in Bucky’s body rushed straight for his groin. Oh, god.

Bucky popped the cap off of Berry Cool Armor and twisted the bottom. The smell from the tube was sugary sweet, the taste on his tongue was strawberry and sticky.

Tony grinned and before Bucky quite knew what was happening, Tony was in his lap, straddling Bucky’s thighs. Tony hesitated not at all before leaning in and pressing his mouth to Bucky’s lip. His tongue flickered out, brushing against Bucky’s top lip, sending tingles through Bucky’s spine. Dear Jesus, and it wasn’t even a serious kiss, and Tony was sitting right on Bucky’s fuckin’ lap and there was no chance in hell that he wasn’t going to notice that Bucky was sportin’ an erection.

“No, no, absolutely not,” Tony said. He blotted his mouth against the back of his hand. “That doesn’t taste like me, at all. Try another one.” He offered Bucky the tube of Invincible Chocolate.

A gleam of challenge lurked in Tony’s eyes. Laughing, and yet utterly, absolutely serious. Bucky leaned forward to snag the tissues on the table to wipe his mouth with, knowing now, that Tony was going to feel the thick, heavy weight of him, rubbing against Tony’s belly. It was okay; there wasn’t exactly nothin’ going on in Tony’s pants, either.

“Yeah, you know, on that note --” Almost impossible to pay attention to Steve backing out of the room to give them some privacy, aside from a fleeting sense of gratitude.

“Don’t forget this, Cap,” Tony said, snatching up Patriotic Peach and throwing it to Steve.

“Uh-huh,” Steve said, and then Bucky was alone with a lap full of wriggling and grinning Tony Stark.

“So, where were we?” Bucky asked, his arm going ‘round Tony’s waist and pulling him in closer. Tony squirmed, rubbing against Bucky, and there was no doubt at all that this was going somewhere...

“We were going to find a chapstick that tastes like me,” Tony announced. “Better start with a clean sample first, just for science’s sake.”

Bucky took that invitation for what it was. He wanted to taste Tony, to breathe him in, devour him. Find out everything about the man. Drink from his lips. And he’d finally been offered everything he wanted. He leaned in, and Tony’s lips were already parted. Tony moaned, soft and eager as Bucky’s mouth came down over his, and that was Bucky’s undoing. Wanting surged up in him, need greater than anything he’d ever felt before.

He cupped Tony’s jaw with one hand and kissed him, tongue sliding past his lips to tempt and tease at the warm hollow of Tony’s cheek, licked along his square teeth, flicked against the roof of Tony’s mouth.

“Oh, god,” Tony murmured as Bucky drew back, then, “was that a sufficient sample?” He offered the Billionaire Root Beer.

Whatever would get him more kisses, Bucky thought, blurry with lust, longing. He tugged off the cap and smeared the soda-sticky wax over his lips. Tony swooped and came down on him again, tongue tracing the line of Bucky’s lower lip, flicking up to tickle at the join.

“Close,” Bucky murmured, the flavor was sweet, with a little zing to it, like the tang of Tony’s cutting wit.

“You know,” Tony said, looking over the collection, “I’m shocked that there’s no coffee-flavored selection in here.”

“We’ll write a letter and complain,” Bucky said. He twisted, deposing Tony on the sofa and pulling himself over the other man like a blanket, feeling the heat and hard muscle underneath him. Tony rolled his hips, pressing against Bucky, rocking up, testing his reactions.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be complaining about this at all.”

A/N I might actually own most of these lip balms, and the Black Widow doll lip balm holder. I mean, first off, I have a serious addiction to lip balm, and then combined with my Marvel obsession, I am EXACTLY the person these were made for.

#Winteriron #tony x bucky #tony stark #bucky barnes #prompts #tisfan #kisses #lip balm #for science!

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imgoldielikehawn · 7 years ago

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Tough Love Pt 12

Hello Darlings here is part 12 for your pleasure. Enjoy and feel free to message and Reblog. please message me as well if you’d like to be tagged!

Master List Here

@sparklemichele @readsalot73 @ariwolff14 @jaihardy @pathybo @lauraaan182

Dress Inspo/ Hair

The next few weeks passed by in a blur, I had security escorts everywhere I went when I was not inside mine and Eric’s apartment. I attended all the necessary council meetings. I had three scheduled meals a day. All of them healthy and perfectly portioned. I worked out twice a day and went to bed the same time every night. Honestly I wasn’t even bothered; my body had adjusted to this new routine quickly. The real punishment was Eric. Since the argument he had not touched me at all, not even a single kiss or hand brush. It was almost as if I was an initiate again and he was my leader. He hardly spoke to me unless it was to give an order. If there was anything I longed for the most it was Eric. At night I had dreams about him and when I woke I was left feeling frantic and unsatisfied.

My father’s engagement dinner was this evening. Eric had arranged for a dress to be made just for me. I did not get the pleasure of seeing the dress before it was delivered or having a say in how it looked nor the color. My security team brought in the box and set it on the bed. Eric appeared in the doorway to dismiss them and as soon as the door closed he demanded I shower. Stripping I walked to the bathroom and turned on the water. I stepped into the scalding shower and I heard Eric’s boots across the floor. “You’ve done well Aadya. However I feel like a part of you has disappeared” he opened the glass door and I turned my head slowly to face him as the water ran over naked body. I watched him swallow as his eyes roamed over me. “You may speak freely” he said hands folded behind his back. I just stared at him through the water fall.

I pulled my head away from the falling water and looked at Eric again. I felt like I was seeing him with new eyes. “I’m sorry I got rid of our baby without consulting with you. I didn’t even stop to think how you might be feeling because I was afraid” I had never apologized to anyone in my entire life. Eric’s mouth hung open as he tried to find the words to speak. “What were you afraid of?” he asked. “I was afraid of losing myself. The person I had worked so hard to become. I was afraid that you would leave me” my chest ached as the words tumbled effortlessly from my lips. I didn’t realize until that very moment how long those words had been swimming around in my head and now that they were out in the open I felt myself awaken as though I had been trapped in a dream.

“Aadya?” he looked stern. I turned off the water and held out my hand for a towel. “Fine, I’ll get it myself” I said stepping out of the shower and shoving Eric out of my way. “What’s wrong with you?” he frowned. “One second you’re a bitch and the next second you’re a pussy”. I laughed as I flung my towel over my shoulder and it hit him in the face. “There’s nothing wrong with me. Well, there is one thing” I said walking into the bedroom. “Which is?” He followed behind me. “I’m in love with your sorry ass” I shrugged and started putting lotion over my body after throwing my wet hair on top of my head. Throwing on a shirt I turned to my vanity and started to blow dry my hair. Turning it off I attempted to pull a comb through it.

“Can you just fucking marry me already?” he gripped. “Absolutely not” I frowned. “I’m not even sure I still want to date you” I smirked. He came up behind me. “I’ll make it worth your while” he kissed my cheek. “I’m sure you will but I promise that you will have to ask for my hand a thousand more times before I say yes” I turned from my vanity with my snow colored hair over my shoulder. I stood up to meet him. And put my hand up to his defined jaw. “You’ll be the end of me” he said leaning into my hand. “Oh darling, this is only the beginning” I stretched up on my toes and leaned in to kiss his lips.

He stopped me by pulling back. “How long has it been since I fucked you?” he smirked licking his perfect lips. “Too long” I said. He backed up and plopped down on the bed un-zipping his pants. “Come here” he ordered. When I reached the bed he grabbed a handful of my hair. “Open your fucking mouth” he demanded. As soon as my mouth was open wide he shoved my head towards his hard cock forcing himself deep into my throat. “Ride me. Now” he said leaning back on his forearms. Climbing on the bed I lowered myself on him. The feeling of my walls stretching over him was enough to drive me insane. My eyes closed as I neared the base of Eric’s cock. “I bet you fucking like that shit” I could hear the smirk in his voice which turned me on even more. “Up and down. You wanted this, now fucking act like it” Eric slapped my ass and my eyes shot open. I found my rhythm with ease slowly lowering and raising myself while he held my hip and throat. Eric used his strength to hold me still. “This is going to hurt” he whispered pulling my face to his mouth. Eric lifted himself up and started slamming into my pussy. My moans turned into desperate whines. I had never been fucked like this before in my entire life. “Who’s the common whore now? hmm?” he grinned wickedly as he leaned his head back . “OH MY GOD” yelled out. “CUM NOW” he said and either he had perfect timing or my body belonged to him because that’s exactly what I did.

Eric went to the bathroom to change while I changed in the bedroom. The dress he’d chosen was floor length and sheer with black lace patterns. It hugged all my curves in the right places and looked striking with my white hair pulled back in a long braid. When Eric came out of the bathroom he wore an all back suit. I smiled at his combat boots under his slacks. “Hello Handsome” I allowed my eyes to linger while I finished tying the end of my hair. “Hello your damn self” he grinned. “I Have fucking amazing taste” he said walking up to me. “You dressing me will not be a regular thing” i said placing my freshly polished fingers to his chest. His frowned “We’re going to be late, lets go” I looked up at him confused “If we leave now we’ll be an hour early” He ran his index finger down my chest between my breasts “We will be if we don’t get out of this room in the next few minutes”. I started towards the door and he followed behind. We walked arm in arm to the pit below. It had been decorated to resemble a winters night. I felt awkward and uncomfortable. This dress left hardly any room for moving around. When we got to the table area I saw that mine and Eric’s place settings were next to my father and his bride to be.

I felt Eric take the lead as soon as I hesitated upon seeing my father. We stood in front of them and my father spoke first “Aadya, my darling you look beautiful”. I nodded in response “Thank you sir”. “You must be Madalia” Eric acknowledged the woman beside my father. “Yes and you must be Eric Coulter. The descriptions don’t do you justice” Her eyes danced over Eric’s frame from head to toe. I could feel the molten lava wave of Anger rolling in and before I said something unkind i needed to get away. “Will you excuse me” I said through gritted teeth turning away.

ERIC’S POV

I maintained my composure as Aadya walked off. “Mr Coulter, I see things are going well with the two of you. She’s much more composed these past few weeks” Marcus smiled but there was something off about the way he was looking at me. “Of course. As promised sir” I bowed my head. “So when are you planning to ask for her hand?” Madalia asked. “Truthfully ma’am, I’m not sure getting her on board with marriage will be easy” I frowned. “You must. The fate of my legacy and your own depends on it” Marcus insisted. “She’ll come around. She really cares about you. I thought she was going to pull a gun from her side when I commented on your appearance” Madalia smiled. “Aadya does not take kindly to my admirers or female coworkers. We fight constantly from both of our tempers” I laughed. “Eric I’m sure you will see to it that she is wed and carrying an heir to this ever expanding empire. After all that’s the only reason I let you anywhere near her. She needs your firm hand, Do not let me down” he sipped his wine and turned to his Fiance. I was so focused on what Marcus was saying that i was only able to turn around slowly as I stared into the shocked and angry eyes of Aadya. She’d heard everything….

AADYAS POV

I was walking up when id caught the tale end of my fathers and Eric’s conversation. I felt like id been slapped just from listening to Eric agree with my father but I felt rage when Eric turned to face me slowly. His frown told me he knew id heard and the way he stood with his hands behind his back, his eyes were empty. No emotion, no sorrow. “So” I started, grinning. “ I always knew you were a little bitch, I just didn’t know who you belonged to” I sighed and shook my head. Walking up to him slowly, I caressed his cheek.

Turning to face my father I said “I hope you fucks are happy together, all three of you bastards” enraged to the point of having a psychotic breakdown I turned back around as Eric started to reach for me. I pulled my pistol from the holster under my dress and pointed to Eric’s forehead. “Touch me and I’ll blow your fucking head off” Eric grinned and pressed his forehead into the barrel. “Pull it” he said and I felt the barrel of his gun in my stomach.

I pulled back the hammer and turned my head to the side. Eric’s grin widened and his tongue ran over his lip “We would have been fucking deadly together”. my face distorted with rage “I’m already deadly, I don’t need any help” I moved the barrel to his shoulder and pulled the trigger. As Eric dropped to his knees in front of me. I placed my fingers to my face to see a small amount of blood got on my lips. “You fucked up my lipstick” I frowned and I unloaded the rest of my rounds in various parts of Eric’s body. I turned slightly to see my fathers pale face. “You’ll learn eventually not to fuck with me father” stepping over Eric I walked out of the entrance right as my fathers guests were starting to arrive…

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thecutofmylove · 8 years ago

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Fuck sir, id let you cut into my thighs so deep and I'd lick the blood off your fingers for you like the little whore i am

You want me to mark you up? Be careful what you wish for

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thebunionpaper · 6 years ago

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7 Seniors Reveal Their Biggest Freshman Orientation Horror Stories

By Ethan Brown (COM/CAS '21)

“I had paid tuition, so I didn’t understand why I couldn’t take classes.”

I logged onto StudentLink to pick my courses, but when I went in, every single course was full. Every single one. I started emailing professors asking if they could open up a spot in their classes, but they all said no. I had paid tuition, so I didn’t understand why I couldn’t take classes. I talked to my advisor and she couldn’t help me either. I didn’t get to take classes until spring, but it was really nice having my time to myself. - Denise Polkowski (CAS ‘19)

“From that day on, I vowed never to touch another musical instrument.”

In the summer leading up to college, I decided to learn the drums. I used all my savings to buy a drum set and practiced for two hours every day. I downloaded a metronome app on my phone, since I wanted to be able to keep a steady rhythm. My drum teacher constantly told me that keeping time is the most important job of a drummer. I was so excited to show off my drumming skills at BU, or maybe even join a band.

When I got to BU for FYSOP, I was walking down Commonwealth Avenue when someone came up to me and yelled “I see you walking down the street and girl they say you got no beat!” After a summer of constantly practicing my craft, you can imagine how disappointed I was. From that day on, I vowed never to touch another musical instrument. - Jane Mancini (QST ‘19)

“Seeing as I have a large tattoo of the center of the periodic table on my left butt cheek, I got nervous.”

Before orientation, I go onto my Housing Portal and see that I am living in Rich Hall in a triple. It is at that point that I realize I’m going to BU. I pack my toothbrush, hand sanitizer, notebook, sweatshirt, and toaster in a large duffel and board the next flight to Logan Airport.

At that point, I notice that there is a security guard at the airport. I ask him to move over so I can get on the airplane, but he doesn’t, and says I need to go through a metal detector. Seeing as I have a large tattoo of the center of the periodic table on my left butt cheek, I got nervous. I walked through the detector and to my surprise, it started buzzing the chorus of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

At that point, I broke down into tears. I looked into the security guard’s eyes, knowingly. “Dad?” He nodded. I ran into his arms and buried my face in his chest, for I had not seen my dad for thirty-five years. But when his arms wrapped around my back, I felt not two arms, but three, then four, then five, then seven. I struggled to break free from his grip, but it was too late. He had engulfed me.

After my dad resorbed me, I started texting my friend Marsha, from home. “Marsha?” I wrote. The three black dots appeared signaling she was going to respond, but then they disappeared immediately after. My phone switched from LTE to 4G.

It was at that moment that I noticed, inside my dad’s stomach, there was a lobster. The lobster clapped its claws together and said “Travel west for all the riches.” I turned to my left and there, I saw Rhett jumping up and down. He held out his hand and I grabbed on, tightly. Suddenly, we were flying in outer space.

After a few minutes of holding my breath, we landed on Marsh Plaza, right next to the seal. “Thank you, Rhett!” I exclaimed, but when I turned to look at him, he had turned into Dean Elmore. Shocked, I fainted, and landed on the seal. I withdrew the next morning. - Carla Peterson (CAS ‘19)

“And that’s J-O-R-J C-I-L-L-I-C-H-A-N-C-K-S?”

My name is George Kilachanx. People usually don’t have trouble spelling my name, but at BU Orientation, nobody could spell it. It was bizarre. Eventually, I went up to someone and asked, “Why can’t anyone spell my name? This is ridiculous. Is this some kind of prank?”

The person looked at me, confused. “What’s your name?” the person asked me. “George Kilachanx,” I responded. “And that’s J-O-R-J C-I-L-L-I-C-H-A-N-C-K-S?” the person asked. “No, not even close,” I insisted.

At that moment, I noticed something strange out of the corner of my eye. On the wall was a poster that said “Boston College Student Council” at the top. “Am I at BU?” I asked. “No, sir, you’re at Boston College.” I laughed. That explains why nobody could spell my name! What a day! - George Kilachanx (SHA ‘19)

“‘Sweetie, don’t use your knife right now,’ she said.”

When I opened my Housing Portal, I saw that my roommate’s name was Vamp Ire. I didn’t think much of it at first, but he was from Pennsylvania and under hobbies listed “looking for human flesh.” I arrived on campus in August and when I entered my room, Vamp was standing right at the door staring daggers at me. The blinds were shut, the lights were off. He smiled and began to laugh maniacally. I was still pretty calm, but starting to wonder if something might be up.

Vamp took a knife from his suitcase and began to run his fingertip along the blade. Vamp’s mom came out of the closet and turned to Vamp. “Sweetie, don’t use your knife right now,” she said. Her voice was soothing, almost too soothing. I looked at Vamp again. He bared his teeth at me and licked his lips. It didn’t seem too out of the ordinary, but I felt a tiny bit weird.

“You wanna see my stuffed animal collection?” Vamp asked me. “Definitely, that sounds awesome!” I responded. He opened another bag to reveal five dead bodies encased in pink tissue paper. “I stuffed them myself,” he added. I’m just from a small town, so I wasn’t entirely sure if stuffing humans was normal. I guess it’s just a different culture where he’s from.

Vamp and I got along pretty well after that. Sometimes I caught him biting me in my sleep, but he said he just wanted my blood for nutrition. He’s in Sargent, so I guess he knows what he’s doing. - anonymous Redditor

“What happened next was absolutely, without a doubt, the strangest, weirdest, wildest, cringiest, most surprising thing I have ever witnessed in my entire life.”

After a long day of cheering and community service in Roxbury, I was ready to head to my room and take a nap. There was a cute guy in my FYSOP group named Dan who I invited to come to my room. What happened next was absolutely, without a doubt, the strangest, weirdest, wildest, cringiest, most surprising thing I have ever witnessed in my entire life.

Dan and I had been talking about The Office all day, but neither of us had seen the original British version. We decided that enough was enough and watched the first two episodes in my room. It was so meta. I definitely like the American one better, but I’m glad we gave it a shot. - anonymous Redditor

“I demanded that the tiny Rhett show me his ID so I knew it was him.”

When I was moving into Warren Towers, I got one of the big yellow carts for my luggage. I figured it would be easier than lugging each bag up to floor 16 one by one. When I looked into the cart, I noticed a small critter scurrying around the bottom. A closer look revealed that it was a teeny dog, the size of a paperclip.

It looked at me and began speaking in a high squeal. “Hi, I’m Rhett. I’ve been shrunk. Please don’t hurt me,” it said. I was confused. I didn’t think Rhett was so small. “You’re Rhett?” I asked. “Yes! Please help me!” “Why of course!” I responded. I put my hand into the cart and let Rhett onto my palm. “Can we be friends?” he asked. “It would be an honor, Rhett,” I responded.

As we walked, I started asking Rhett questions about BU and college in general. Rhett seemed a bit unsure of himself a lot of the time, which was weird. He could only remember 6 of the 8 colleges, thought Questrom was the school with the stereotype of guys not getting girls, believed tuition had decreased this year, and even said that West is best. I started to get suspicious.

After a few more minutes, I was fed up. I demanded that the tiny Rhett show me his ID so I knew it was him. Unphased, Rhett pulled a driver’s license out of his pocket. Rhett Elmore, age 179, etc, all looked good until I noticed the top. Issued by the state of Nebraska. I knew it. Rhett lived in Massachusetts all his life. It was a fake. Busted! - Scott Jameson (CFA ‘19)

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terryballs · 4 years ago

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What I Did In My Midlife Crisis by Sally Sparrow, Chapter 2

“So as I was saying…”

“Finish the tea.”

“It’s nice tea, but…”

“Doctor, drinking this cup of tea is absolutely essential to solving our problems. We can talk when you’re done.”

“Why don’t I just…”

“Doctor.”

The Doctor downed his tea in one go, glugging it down his throat as if he was a waste pipe.

“That rather goes against…”

“I’ve had your tea. Caffeine at this time will keep me up all night. Now, what can I do for you? Any unresolved problems? Aliens invading the neighbourhood? Mad scientists creating monsters? Can’t find the car keys?”

“My main problem right now,” said Sally, “is the strange man in my home who doesn’t even recognise me.”

The Doctor was quiet for a moment. “Having a bit of memory trouble. When you get to two thousand, you lose a few things.”

“But you remembered me when I mentioned the DVDs.”

“Oh, I’ll never forget the DVDs. That’s three incredibly boring weeks I’ll never get back. “Sally Sparrow, beware the Vashta Nerada!” over and over again.”

“The Weeping Angels.”

“Hmm? Yes, that makes more sense. Although you should beware the Vashta Nerada too. And you really don’t want to get on the wrong side of the Zarbii.” The Doctor looked away. “I just lost someone, Sally. She’s not just gone, she’s gone from my memory. It’s like I never knew her at all.”

“Oh… Doctor, that sounds awful.”

“Yes, it is,” he agreed, very sombrely. “I just want to… you can imagine. But I can’t. There is so much I can do, and I want to do it, and if I stop doing it then I worry I’ll never start again. So if you want me to get out of your kitchen… sorry, that sounds too threatening. If you want to help me get out of your kitchen, then please find me something to do.”

Sally paused for a second. “Larry.”

“You’ll need to be more specific.”

“My boyfriend, Larry. Two months ago he vanished. No note, no messages, no CCTV, he left his phone and his wallet. The police can’t find a trace of him. Missing. They think he’s dead, but it takes seven years for that to be official – we did it for Kathy. I have to run the shop on my own, even though I know nothing about DVDs, and I’ve just been so worried…” Sally pushed her hair back. “Is that too domestic for you? I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” said the Doctor. “So the first time we met, you had been attacked by the Weeping Angels?”

“I thought about that. We thought about it a lot. Said if either of us ever got caught, we’d send word. Like Kathy did. Send a message forward in time to say not to worry.”

“And the message never came,” said the Doctor, almost to himself. “Sally, I am very good at finding missing things. You might not like what we find, but we can try. What do you say?”

“Sorry, we?”

“Well, I could do it without you, but frankly I don’t know the difference between your Harry and any other bloke, so it will be easier with your help.”

“Larry.”

“Sorry?”

“His name is Larry. Short for Lawrence. Not Harry.”

“Are you sure? Harry is a much better name.”

Sally sighed. “OK, I’ll come with you. Where should we start?”

That was how Sally got her second invitation to the TARDIS. She remembered it bronze and metallic with lots of lights and open space. Now, it was darker, velvety, and lined with bookshelves and blackboards and surely teeming with nooks and crannies.

“This place has changed,” said Sally.

“Let me guess – you don’t like it?”

“No, I…”

“Sorry, private joke. Anyway, fortunately this desktop has very easily accessible telepathic circuits.” The Doctor flicked a switch on one of the console panels, and it rolled up like a blind, revealing what looked like several rows of corrugated Styrofoam.

“This should be painless, but it is not entirely without risk. Engaging with a telepathic circuit is about as dangerous as using a staircase. There is a remote but non-zero chance that the process will change parts of your mind in a non-trivial fashion.”

“My great uncle fell down the stairs and died,” said Sally.

“And you still use staircases all the time, hands in the circuit.”

The circuits were slightly wetter than Sally was expecting, and certainly wetter than she would ever want a circuit to be.

“Sally, I need you to focus. Think about… DVD man.”

“Larry,” said Sally, trying not to roll her eyes. And as she said that, the centre of the TARDIS console started to rise and fall. The familiar sound filled her ears, not as loud inside as out. Sally had a sudden onset of severe vertigo, but kept her balance. A jolt ran through the TARDIS and she instinctively clenched the telepathic circuits. She could feel rapid pulses shooting in all directions through the circuits. She also found them unsettlingly rubbery. Before she’d thought about how rubber could ever be unsettling, the TARDIS stopped.

“Right, come on!” said the Doctor, as he bounded up the stairs to the TARDIS door, completely carefree. “Gary Flamingo awaits!”

They emerged into blinding morning light and sweltering summer heat. Sally took off her coat and threw it back inside the TARDIS. They were in a car park, next to some sort of warehouse.

The Doctor licked his finger and it up to the air. “2043. April. Monday. Nine thirty… seven, in the morning. Leyton Orient are top of the league.”

“That can’t be right…” said Sally, as she gazed into the distance.

“You’d be surprised how well they do under Ademola Lookman’s management…”

“No, I mean, how is Larry in the future?”

The Doctor paused for a second. “The telepathic circuits should have kept your personal subjective timeline in line with Larry’s. If the TARDIS brought you to the future, it’s because Gary is in the future. Probably somewhere in that warehouse.”

There was a shout from the other direction. The Doctor and Sally turned. A security guard was running towards them. The Doctor reached inside his jacket and withdrew a wallet of blank paper as the guard reached them.

“How did you get in here?” asked the guard. He was a fit young man, wearing a photo ID which identified him as C. Dompton. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Steady on, Dompton,” said the Doctor, brandish the paper wallet. “I have business here.”

Dompton stared at the paper. He pulled a torch out of his pocket and shone a purple light upon the paper before handing it back to the Doctor. “Why are we having a surprise inspection today? Mr Blamley is already here.”

“The best time to have a surprise inspection is when it is least expected ,” said the Doctor.

Dompton walked them to the warehouse, past rows of courier trucks. “Well, as I’m sure you can imagine, everything is tip-top for the boss. You won’t find any faults.”

“And yet,” said the Doctor, “we were able to stroll into the perimeter without anyone noticing.”

The warehouse was like a beehive in a vending machine. The air was abuzz with drones, bringing packages of all shapes and sizes down to the conveyor belts. At the end of the conveyor, another robot loaded them into waiting lorries. Dompton lead them under rows and rows of raised conveyor belts until they reached a concrete wall with three doors in it.

“Where shall we start, then?” asked Dompton. “Laboratory? Recreation room? Toilet?”

“You only have one toilet?” said Sally.

“Oh, it’s large enough for everybody. More space efficient than lots of small ones. Mr Blamley’s idea, that.”

“I’m glad you mentioned Mr Blamley, Dompton,” said the Doctor. “It just so happens that we’re here for…” the Doctor leaned towards Dompton and whispered something in his ear that Sally couldn’t make out. He stood back upright. “Please take us to him.”

Dompton blanched. “I… I don’t have authorisation to go down there, sir. I will need to radio my supervisor.” He turned away and spoke into his watch. “Ma’am? Couple of people from Mr Blamley’s office here to see the prisoners. I know, ma’am, but they’ve got the paperwork. OK, thanks ma’am, I’ll have them wait.”

Unfortunately, the Doctor had clearly tired of waiting, and was helping himself to chocolate digestives kept in a glass tin. Sally smiled at Dompton. “Sorry, he needs to keep his blood sugar up.”

“Oh, those are diabetic biscuits, you shouldn’t eat too many of them,” said Dompton.

“Don’t worry, I have three livers,” said the Doctor, flatly. Sally stared at him in disbelief, and he grinned belatedly. “Only kidding, I have exactly the same number and type of organs as any human my age.”

“Yes sir,” said Dompton.

“It’s not sir, Dompton,” said the Doctor.

“Sorry, mix,” said Dompton.

“No need for formalities, thanks, just call me the Doctor.”

A woman in her fifties opened one of the three doors. She was wearing a white coat and spectacles and had her hair up in a tight bun. “These are the visitors, Dompton?”

The Doctor handed over his paper wallet again. “The Doctor and Sally Sparrow, surprise inspectors.”

The woman didn’t bother looking at the wallet. “I am Lisa Oakwood, Business Manager to Mr Blamley. I am his eyes and ears, and I’ve never heard of either of you.”

“That’s part of the surprise!”

“Regardless, if it was my decision I would be sending you away and calling the police. As it is, however, Mr Blamley would rather like to speak to you.”

“Lead the way,” said the Doctor. Lisa led the Doctor and Sally through the door and down a set of steps that reminded Sally of the entrance to a wine cellar. The ground floor was all metal and concrete, but this stairwell was lined with wood. Sally could still smell the varnish. A memory of another cellar flashed through her mind, but she squashed it down. A white-haired man in a business suit stood at the bottom of the stairs, leaning on his walking stick. He was stood in front of a door which was much newer than its surroundings, thick titanium and locked with a retina scanner.

“Mixter Doctor. Ms Sparrow. I am awfully pleased to be making your acquaintance,” he said in an upper class accent. Nobody speaks like that any more, thought Sally. “I have been waiting a long time for you.”

“We only just got here,” said Sally.

“Information is my business, Ms Sparrow. I knew you were coming.”

“Your voice sounds familiar,” said the Doctor. “You must be Barry.”

“He’s not Larry,” said Sally.

“I am very sorry to disappoint you, Doctor. I am Kerrick A. Blamley, founder and majority shareholder of Kerblam! Inc. I am probably the richest individual in human history. Surely you have heard me?”

“Kerblam!?” said Sally. She felt a little sick. Kerblam! was a website which cut out most of the overheads involved in retail. Their business model was what had put Sparrow and Nightingale out of business. They were what Mr Thomas called “the competition”.

“I’ve heard of Kerblam!” said the Doctor. “Extremely successful and popular company. I assumed you were just a rebranding of Amazon after the word ‘Amazon’ became synonymous with ‘disaster’.”

Blamley laughed. “Amazon. That takes me back. No, Kerblam! is my venture and my venture alone.”

There was a pause.

“You know,” said Blamley, “When you mentioned Amazon, I thought you were going to ask me how I managed to displace an utterly dominant market leader.”

“No, I’m not interested.”

“It is really very impressive. But then, you already know how I did it, don’t you, Doctor?”

“Just take us to the prisoner.”

Sally caught her breath. Was Larry being held prisoner in the future? Blamley, for his part, did not seem at all surprised at the Doctor’s request. Sally would have thoughts he would at least feign shock or offer some denial, but he didn’t. “They’re just through here,” said Blamley. “Come on.”

Lisa was clearly alarmed. “Sir, these intruders haven’t been vetted, are you sure…”

“Yes, Lisa, I’m sure. The Doctor was the one who told me about the prisoners in the first place.”

#Doctor Who #doctor who fanfic #twelfth doctor #sally sparrow #What I Did In My Midlife Crisis by Sally Sparrow #ao3

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