#the hardy boys fanfic

[duchess-of-new-shire]

(Talking about a man covered in blood) I want to put him in my purse like a little dog

[itsacruelsummerwithyou2]

reasons i’m excited for tumblr at large to go see “the bikeriders”

the entire opening sequence feeling like a 2010s wattpad story

a pretty boy who comically on the nose for the i-can-fix-him girlies

on that note, gifs of the moment the camera focuses on austin butlers bare arms before his face when he’s introduced

more mike faist content

gifs of the minute there i was fully convinced austin butler and tom hardy would make out

a new expertly acted female rage scene

basically a full cast of guys who are bad boys just moral enough to be likable, i.e. tumblr kryptonite (and they’re giving found family)

[kaylinelizabeth4004]

Young and Beautiful

Alec Hardy (Broadchurch) x Reader

Synopsis: DS Y/N Warner uses DI Alec Hardy’s flat for some late night work

Word Count: 4890

Tags: fem!reader, fluff, smut, praise, sweet, very sweet smut, if your name is Becca look away

She didn't even bother to knock, not knowing or caring if he was in, she just slid open his sliding glass door and let herself inside. Then she plopped the case files on his sofa, pushed his coffee table to the side, and laid them all out in front of in her. He'd come round about an hour later, when all the papers lie in their own stacks across his rug, Y/N in the middle eating a slice of toast with a wild look in her eyes.

"Warner, what're you doing here?"

"There's something we're missing, there has to be, and I'm so close to it!" She said, her baby hairs frizzing wildly as her hair came loose from her ponytail. She either didn't care or didn't notice as she stood up, a paper in hand. DI Alec Hardy stood in his own doorway, flabbergasted to his DS rambling in his room at half past 4am. "I think it has to do with Aaron, it's got to be. His alibi doesn't make sense, he won't tell us where he was, and he knew Sophia well enough. At least more than some of the other persons of interest. I've tracked down the local cab company and one of the drivers says he remembers giving a bloke a ride late that night, said the lad was proper out of breath and not exactly chatty. I've already got him lined up to come in tomorrow for more information. As for the trace amounts of DNA in the victims mouth we don't have a match yet but the lab did say it wasn't as disintegrated as they'd initially thought which gives me hope! I've got -" 

"Warner!" Hardy shouted, interrupting her speech. "What the hell are you doing in my house half past 4?"

She gestured around her as though it should be obvious, "working."

"And you can't do that at your own flat?"

She giggled, and continued to ramble. When she was really tired, like proper one second away from passing out tired, like she was now, she couldn't shut up. It didn't matter if the person she was talking to didn't want to hear it or wasn't listening or couldn't hear it - having a deaf cousin worked to her favor in these instances - she would continue to prattle on about what she needed to, "no. My roommate's got her boyfriend over and they were proper loud. Could practically hear the bed rattling, and it wasn't doing me any good. You don't sleep anyway so I figured I could use the space to lay it out. I didn't think you'd not be home. Why're you dressed nice? Did you come from a date? Is that what this is? Is there some woman waiting outside?"

"No!" DI Hardy looked halfway offended at the suggestion. "I've just got back from work. Was gonna make a cuppa then keep going til you showed up."

She squealed and went for something on the floor, lifting it up then crawling to a different paper,"I take two sugars."

"I know your bloody order. Shouldn't you go and sleep?"

She waved a hand, "I'll sleep when I'm dead. What I really need is for the world to be open 24/7. If I could only call this bloke right now and half my questions could be answered. You know my order? That's sweet."

He scoffed, "it's not unique. Warner, when was the last time you slept?"

"Uhh, I slept a few hours on Tuesday. Why do you look all high and mighty? You don't sleep either, don't eat. You're practically a miserable little skeleton carting your life way through life."

"I am not -" he stopped taking. Partially because she hadn't stopped either, continuing to chatter about whatever her heart desired. And partly because he didn't know if he was going to refute the miserable part, the little part, or the skeleton part. Or if he even could refute it. He snorted, well he wasn't little. He was over 6 foot. And he could eat more, he knew that. But he often forgot about food until he had to.

"I know a fellow who took nine sugars. Can you imagine that! Nine sugars! You're drinking piss flavored juice at that point. Pardon mh French, sir. He was very strange... called himself Witchfinder as though you couldn't search on the web magic shops. Maybe we should start calling ourselves Crimefinders. Criminalfinders? That doesn't roll off the tongue, now does it?"

DI Hardy realized Y/N wasn't going to answer any of his questions in this state, so he shuffled over to the kitchen to make some tea. He took his coat off, tossing it on whatever available counter space there was with a yawn. He wanted to sleep, knew he probably had to, but he'd probably dream of something he didn't want to dream about. Lately it'd been odd mental pictures of his coworkers all hurt, Y/N choked, Ellie crying, hell even Brian made the scene with a glazed look in his eyes. He didn't know why he had these thoughts, he'd never considered himself a particularly caring individual over his coworkers. But it had haunted him off from sleep for the foreseeable future.

He made two cups of tea, disposing two sugars into Warner's as she said. Then he walked back over to his living room and sat down, elbows on his knees as he scanned her work.

"Thank you!" She said, grabbing her mug and take a large gulp of it. "What do you think of this, sir? He doesn't strike me right. Can't place it."

"The name is familiar," Hardy admitted. He went to his laptop and started typing away, trying to place the name. "Ah, he's been arrested for aggravated assault. Both charges dropped, looks like some brawls in the pubs."

"I s'pose that doesn't suggest he murdered a girl."

"Doesn't rule him out either, if he's willing to punch a stranger in a pub what would he do to someone he knows?"

She giggled and scrambled for her pencil, "I should write that down for my novel!"

"You're writing a novel?"

"Mmhmm, started it tonight. 'Adventures of Harner and Wardy.'"

Alec set his mug down, and took hers from her hand as well. "Alright, time for bed now."

"What? No! I've got more novel to write and crime to solve! We've not even started discussing the potential that Louise is lying about her husband's alibi. I mean really? She says he binged Big Bang Theory with her all night and I'm all for binging telly but of all the shows you choose that one? The laugh track is funnier than the actual show half the time - is this your bedroom?"

Hardy had helped Y/N to her feet and led her to his bedroom in the back. She was still rambling about the most irrelevant things when he guided her to sit on the edge of his bed. He didn't often make it, so he was glad to note that it was done up well. Warner hadn't slept in almost a full 48 hours and he knew that even with a brain as sharp as hers, it was dull as Katie's without sleep. He got on his knees before her, carefully untying her shoes and sliding them off her feet. He put them by the door and helped her out of her coat jacket.

"What're you doing?" She finally asked as he hung the jacket on the back of the door. "Are you hitting on me?"

"What? I -"

"Because if you are hitting on me that's totally okay, but I should warn you I'm getting sleepy so I might not be the best lay. But you are proper good looking so I wouldn't say no." She made a face, "my boss wouldn't like that would he? Noooo, can't call someone proper good looking. I'm not trying to be a knob, just communicating that you've got no problems in the looks department. None, like ever. Personality maybe but you took my shoes off for me so that gets you at least a few brownie points."

Alec felt like he was malfunctioning, his arm stuck out, frozen midair from her words. She just called him attractive. And not just good looking, but good looking enough she'd want to sleep with him! He'd never been used to such straight forward compliments and didn't quite know if he believed it. So he just worked on autopilot, helping tuck her into bed.

"Go to sleep, Warner." He flicked off the lights and closed the door. What the hell. What the hell. Alec blinked rapidly like that would make any of what just happened make any sense at all.

He stood awkwardly outside the door of the bedroom. Should he - is he- what's the proper procedure with this? He should know, he was married once, had enough sex to have a child! But it seemed all that knowledge left the moment Claire stole back the pendant, fizzling his marriage, his life, his career. Now he was left taking uneven breaths as the sun crept up, an employee who's attracted to him sleeping in his bed after 40+ hours of not sleeping.

He found himself back at his laptop, slowly typing out what to do when someone admits to fancying you. But the results were not his thing, videos of very forward men and women moving very quickly into other actions. Alec was not opposed to the action, sex. But he couldn't fathom how to get there. So he sat in his kitchen drinking old tea, and staring at his door.

An hour later he crept in to grab a different tie for work, and saw Y/N completely passed out. She was curled in a ball, cradling his pillow and lightly snoring. She looked content. It made him smile against his better judgment. He left her in there, scribbling a note on a piece of paper he taped to the bedroom door before he left for the station.

Y/N Warner woke up nearly 12 hours later. It was practically dark when she opened her eyes. She blinked away the sleep that threatened to creep in around the corners of her eyes, and propped herself up on her elbows to survey the scene around her. She didn't recognize the room she was in, blank walls and bland sheets. There was no personality to it. For a moment, she wondered if she'd gotten a hotel room and just had no memory of it.

Then she smelt a familiar, faint scent. She couldn't place it or really describe it other than she liked it, it was warm. Stupidly, she let her face fall into the pillow to inhale the scent. Oh my god.

She shot up quickly, realizing where she was. The memories of last night flooded her mind.

"Shit, shit, shit." A hand flew to her brow as she tried to process. She'd come here to work because her roommate was fucking her boyfriend into the oblivion. DI Hardy came back, made her a cuppa. She wouldn't shut up, kept rambling about the Big Bang Theory (why?) and Witchfinders (how?) before he guided her here. Then she - "no." She said audibly, she did not make a pass at DI Hardy in his bed, late at night and practically drunk on exhaustion. Her eyes flit around the room before landing on the one piece of decoration, a framed photo of Hardy and Daisy, his daughter. "No." She said again, as though it could stop her ramblings.

Y/N rushed out of the bed, scrambling to find her shoes before she saw them neatly lying next to the door. She was usually very professional, if not a little eccentric. But no one could fault you for being a lot when you were good at your job and solved cases. She brought justice to people, she knew she did. And she might have risked it all because she worked herself too far and hit on her boss. Regardless of how stupid attractive he was, that was still work place harassment.

She shoved her shoes on, forced her arms into the holes of her suit jacket and ambled out into his living space. There were papers everywhere. They covered the floor like a new rug, slouched over the chairs and clung to the walls by hall dead pieces of tape. She looked for her mobile, patting her pockets. Shit, she must have left it in the bedroom. When she turned she spotted a note on the door.

'At the office. Feel free to not come in.'

Oh she was dead. She'd lost her job forever, she would never work again. This stupid blasted career she'd worked so hard on gone.

She ran back and found her mobile among the sheets, shoved it into her pocket and ran to leave the home. Then DI Hardy stood awkwardly at the front door, bags of Chinese hanging from his hands and a weird not grimace not smile expression. He didn't look pleased to see her, but he didn't want to kill her. Good news, right?

"Sir, I am so sorry about last night-"

"Don't worry about it." He waved his hand, coming in to set the food on the counter. He got a lot of it.

"No, I can't not worry about it. I came into your home, made a mess, took your bed and propositioned you-"

"Warner, we've arrested a man for the murder of Sophia Garcia. It was Aaron Baker, his dad's golf clubs, just like you'd said."

Her mouth fell open, "shit, really?"

Alec gestured to the mess of papers while he spoke, "you'd mentioned something about the cabbie last night. When I went in I gave them a ring, and while there was a driver who picked up a grumpy lad it wasn't Aaron. Sounds like a Christie book but it was his twin. Aaron was cross town cleaning up the scene."

"Not good enough," Y/N said softly.

Alec nodded, "not good enough."

"I'm sorry, sir." She said again, her voice still quiet and meek.

He didn't answer her, just stared for a beat before gesturing to the food, "I didn't know what you liked so I bought two of everything."

"All this is for me?"

"You solved the case, Warner."

She shook her head, "I ... you let me sleep in your bed? I ransacked your house, I propositioned you, and you let me sleep and brought me food?"

Alec scratched the back of his neck. He did not like how often Y/N asked questions. It stressed him out, like he had to have an immediate answer to every single one when he figured his actions spoke. But she looked so confused. He just gestured to the food and went to grab plates.

She sat down in surprise, blinking quickly as she watched him come over. "Just a, uh, an egg roll and cho mein please."

He nodded and shoved two of both onto her plate before giving it to her. He didn't put anything on his plate. Y/N sighed and scraped off half of hers onto his.

"Eat, sir. Please."

He blinked, "wot?"

"I've known you for years and never seen you eat. Just eat the egg roll."

He stared at the greasy food. He can't eat that, he thought and was about to say as much when she shot him a dirty look. Tentatively, Alec took a bite of it. He cringed, he didn't quite love the taste but Y/N seemed pleased he was eating so he finished it off just for her.

When they both finished he cleaned up, and she stayed seated. Then he moved past her to the bedroom, undoing his tie and tossing it, along with his jacket, onto a chair in the corner. He started to roll his sleeves up round his elbows when Y/N waited by the door.

"Thank you, sir."

"No need-"

"Let me. Thank you, sir. For the food and the sleep and, uh, well thank you for everything."

"Of course, Warner. I take care of my people." Not typically this much care, but he didn't want to make her feel bad. He focused on sliding off his shoes, shoving them out of his sight.

Alec jumped - well, Alec never really jumped just blinked harshly and cocked the one eyebrow - in surprise. Y/N was now closer to him, her chest heaving as she stared up at him. She was shorter than he remembered.

"I-If I may, sir?" She asked, lifting a hand.

He had a feeling he knew what she was asking, but didn't know for certain. But all the same he nodded. He watched as her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned in, going onto her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

He hadn't been kissed in a long time, and the surprise of her initiating it made him stand there and accept her soft lips against his. When she broke, he could see the fear in her eyes as though she had done something wrong. Alec hadn't kissed in a while, and he felt the anxiety creep in that he didn't remember how. But the look in her eyes made it worth the fear.

He plunged forward, grabbing the back of her neck gently while his other hand came to cradle her jaw. Her skin was soft under his touch, melting as he held her. Y/N's hands came up to hold his jaw, scruffy and itchy in the most delightful way. Her mouth melded with his as his tongue licked along her bottom lip.

She cherished the way his jaw scratched against hers slightly, sighing when he broke to trail soft kisses down her jaw and the length of her neck. The scratch was enough to make her giggle like a schoolgirl, holding his shoulders. He shot back up, hair slightly wild but nothing compared to his eyes as he looked into hers deeply. He needed to be absolutely certain. There was no time for messing about and hurting anyone.

She smiled. He was so handsome to her, but in an understated way. She took the moment to run a finger on his sculpted jawline, along his freckled cheeks and down his crooked nose. No, not everyone might look at those features and call it handsome. But to her, he was everything. Smart, kind, and good-looking as sin. Her finger fell upon his lips, slightly open and let out harsh breaths as he searched her eyes desperately. Alec always wished he could read expressions better, he was terrified he'd make the wrong decision somewhere down the line.

But Y/N smiled, and nodded, pressing a soft kiss to his nose before taking a step back. Then she toed off her own shoes, shucked off her own jacket, and began to undress.

He followed her lead, removing his shirt and pants. Eventually, they both stood in front of one another naked. Y/N felt that pang of anxiety in her chest at being bare in front of a man. She'd made it very clear to Alec that she found him to be hotter than hell, but did he feel that way about her? She wasn't ugly, she knew that, but she wasn't a showstopper.

And yes, she could see the surprisingly length of him hardening before him. But didn't every man get hard when sex was on the table?

Alec came forward and placed his hands on her hips, pulling her forward as his eyes took in every inch of her. He ran a hand along her stomach - an insecure area for her - and up between her breasts, before settling it on the base of her neck. The simple action left her breathless.

His eyes were still on her body before he brought them up to hers. She was struck by how deep his were, how warm and brown, they seemed to go on forever.

"Look at you," he said hoarsely, his accent suddenly get thicker. "You're gorgeous."

"You think so?" She felt stupid asking it. She should be confident, she should pose seductively and tell him to strap in the way girls do on the telly. But this felt real and raw, and raw didn't shy away from the insecurities. Insecurities laced with cellulite and hair, parts that feel too pudgy there and too concave there. Never quite where it needs to be, never "ugly" enough for the world to tell you you have a right to complain.

"'Course. 'Course, look at you. You think I'm g-good too?" He asked back.

Y/N smiled, "thank you for saying that, most men don't."

"Don't they?" Alec asked in surprise, figuring that was just a part of the experience.

She shook her head and let her gaze trace along his body as well. He was lean and tall, with thin legs and arms wrapped in gentle muscle. His stomach was slightly pouchy and soft, beneath it his length was already hard at the sight of her. She ran a hand up from his stomach to his chest, mimicking his actions, and let it stay on his heart. Beneath her touch it thumped violently. Then she looked up to see his face, her favorite feature. His eyes were warm and gentle even when they didn't mean to be. "All of you is handsome to me, all of you."

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing, "you're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. And if it isn't too crass to say, I'd fuck every inch of you."

It was too crass to say, and even a little cheesy, but it made her blossom with a smile. She threw her arms around his neck and let herself fall into one of his all encompassing kisses she was starting to like the taste of too much. Alec's lips were firm but not overpowering as they engulfed her, setting a tingle from her toes all the way up to her head in a heady giggle. His hands held onto her waist, grasping the flesh there with a sweet intensity. His lips parted with a deep groan.

She walked backwards to the bed, leading Alec until he was over her. His arms were poised by her head, his neck brought down as he peppered open mouth kisses along her neck. She laughed lightly at his scruffy beard, moaning when his lips found the spot between her neck and shoulder that shot straight through her. Y/N writhed under his touch, heat searing her skin. His hands were everywhere, branding her, skating up her waist to grab a handful of her breast, down her back to cup her bum, and feather like fingers traveling over the top of her thighs to the place in between. She gasped as he ran a finger down her slit.

"So wet..." he murmured, not expecting her to be so aroused by him. He'd barely done anything for her, hadn't touched down there at all. Yet she was slick to the touch, heat and arousal. Alec loved the way her chest flushed, her eyes closed tightly as she savored his touch on her skin.

He ran his fingers down, keeping his touch light as he experimentally nudged around. When he found her clit she gasped, her whole body tensing and focusing on the nerves right there against his finger.

"So responsive," he murmured, starting to work gently against her clit as she took shaking, uneven breaths. Alec went to speak again, then stopped. Tess never liked when he spoke in bed, said it distracted her from her climax. So he'd learned to stay silent and focus on his partner's body, her mouth as she fought her body's reaction to grind violently against his fingers. He kissed her sternum, biting at the flesh gingerly. Despite himself, Alec growled into her as she bucked her hips to meet his ministrations.

"Keep talking," she said in a hoarse voice.

"Wot?" Alec asked, taken aback.

Y/N looked up at him, eyes heady with need, "your voice is hot. If it's okay to ask, please keep talking, sir."

Alec grinned his charming, crooked smile. He bent down to kiss along her stomach as he quickened his pace on his clit, driving her faster to a climax then she was used to. That deep Scottish voice rang our praises, some loud enough that she could hear them and clench her thighs, others murmurs against her flesh that made her head feel light and airy. She giggled at the thought of all the beard rash she'd have along her body from him. All the same he told her how well she was doing, how beautiful she was, how lovely she looked squirming underneath him.

Then, as her back began to arch and she could feel the orgasm just a hair's breadth away, he stilled. Y/N whined. Actually felt herself whine in protest. He chuckled, clearly meaning to edge her, using his large hands to keep her legs wide open.

"A-are you ready?" Alec asked, his usual confidence lost to the arousal he was trying to keep at bay for her. His hands were large and warm, holding onto the space between her hips and thighs with a firm yet gentle touch.

Y/N's eyes gazed down to his cock, hard and ready. It looked about ready to burst, but Alec squeezed her thighs to look up into his eyes. They were warm and kind. Asking for consent even in a position like this. It made her all the more sure of her answer.

She reached up for his face, grabbing his jaw and planting a warm kiss on his mouth as he started to guide himself inside of her. He was slow, letting her gasp and adjust to the length inch by inch until he was fully inside of her. Alec paused. She could feel her heartbeat everywhere, pulsing desperately for friction.

She nodded, kissing Alec again. She'd never had a kiss like that, so strong and comforting. Kisses were never her thing, she hadn't understood the fuss over them. Just two sets of lips pressed against one another, the taste of the day infecting it. But with Alec it was more than the cho mein or egg rolls, and it was more than chapped lips pressed against one another. It was full of desire, trying to communicate all that words couldn't. She drank it in fully, gasping against him as he started to move inside of her.

Alec was bigger than she expected and bigger than he was used to, and she wiggled her hips to the feeling of being stretched so full like that. He cherished the feeling of her gasps and moans, dipping to kiss every inch of skin near him.

"So beautiful, so gorgeous..." he thrusted in quickly this time and saw her body tense from surprise. "You're taking me beautifully, Angel."

Y/N could listen to his voice all day. Even before she realized he was far from an ugly bloke, she fancied the way his voice poured over her in sexy waves. Deep, guttural, it was honest and raw. He didn't lie, he didn't cover it with some pretense to be sexy. Even when his voice would break, small gasps from the sensations breaking up his sentences, she found it all the better.

Alec leaned back, not wanting to stop kissing her not wanting to miss the view. He'd pulled her hips down to the edge of the bed, him standing and her legs spread wide and resting on the small of his back. With a gentle pace that started to grow more desperate he thrust into her, watching her body flush and squirm beneath him. Y/N threw her arms up, arching her back to take him deeper. Alec was enamored with the way her breasts bounced with each thrust.

"So fucking beautiful," he grumbled, snaking a hand down to stroke her clit. He could feel that he wasn't going to last as long as he would have liked, but by the way Y/N let out little moans by his feather light touch, he figured she didn't mind all that much.

Y/N was in her own world, feeling his voice slide off her skin like oil as she chased her high. His denial of her orgasm earlier made this one all the more powerful. It seemed to slam into her, causing her to gasp wildly as Alec kept firm ministrations on her clit. Then he too reached his climax, grunting in a low voice before pouring out in a shocking spurt.

Then he pulled out, falling beside her as they both gasped for breath. Y/N quickly ambled out of the bed and used the restroom before she came back in, feeling like her limbs were absolute jelly. Alec brought her back to the bed, laying next to her. His hand held hers, thumb tracing circles on the back of her hand.

"That was incredible," he finally said.

"You could say that again."

"That was incredible." They both paused, turning to look at one another, before bursting into a fit of giggles.

[shegatsby]

The Bikerider and The Nurse

A/N: Hi guys! I'm here with a new fic. I wanted to keep the first chapter short but don't worry, it's gonna be a long ass fic with smut in the future! Let me know if you want to be tagged. Love you xxx

Words: 1.583K TAG LIST IS OPEN!

Warnings: Injury but not detailed so don't worry.

Chapter One

‘’It’s gonna be a long ass night.’’ Elena complained, they were wearing their uniforms for their night shift, Y/N loved the nights, she loved helping people and usually the nights were calm but this night was different. There was a bar fight, the rumor reached before the patients. She wore her white long dress uniform and white pumps, when she quickly tied her hair and placed the white cap she ran out of the lounge. She was the right hand of an old doctor, no one usually liked him because he was grumpy but Y/N admired him because he worked in the army during the WW2 and his knowledge of medicine was beyond anyone she had ever met. Dr. Smith didn’t like most of his colleges because they kept complaining but Y/N was different, she turned up out of nowhere one day and showed her determination for the job and that’s why the old man kept her by his side during any complicated surgeries or important cases. He kept mentioning that she should go back to school and become a doctor but Y/N kindly smiled and said she was happy being a  nurse, he knew she could do it, she had the capacity unlike these morons he had to see every day. Dr. Smith wasn’t a stupid man, whenever he asked her a personal question such as her hometown, her parents etc. she was perfectly giving diplomatic answers and then disappearing. No one knew where she was from or anything personal about Y/N but for Dr. Smith as long as she was useful he didn’t mind her back story.

Elena was her friend, over the months they had bounded but Y/N was smart enough to keep her distance, Elena kept inviting her to this bar she and her husband were regulars or the picnics they were having with their friends.. Y/N kept kindly declining the offers but Elena never felt sad or angry. She was few years older than Y/N and she knew that this young woman had a tragic past, she could feel it in her bones so Elena decided to be gentle and never take things personal.

As they were running to the emergency wing Dr. Smith called for Y/N, there was a patient from the bar fight and his condition was more severe than the others so she followed the old man.

‘’Caucasian male, in his late 20s, other than bruises he has a damaged ankle..’’ the other nurse was explaining the situation when Y/N was startled for a second. There was man laying on the hospital bed with his dirty clothes, his dirty blonde hair and mustache was the first details she had noticed, even though he was unconscious he had a stern look on his face, his jaw and high cheeks were sharp looking, he had this thick jacket that one of his ringed hands were holding tight, as she got closer she heard that he was mumbling something… Y/N  got closer and bend over the bed to hear him clearly,

‘’Don’t,’’ he was saying, ‘’Don’t take the jacket off.’’

Y/N looked at Dr. Smith, ‘’He doesn’t want us to take the jacket off.’’ She said calmly, ‘’I don’t care about the damn jacket, this man needs surgery right now or he is about to lose his foot!’’ he was right, Y/N knew that she would be in the surgery room assisting the doctor so they took him immediately in. Before the surgery Y/N took his jacket off and put it in her locker, she decided to give it to him once he wakes up.

After the surgery she had found out that the man was Elena’s husband’s friend from some motorcycle club. Elena thanked her for taking care of him and she said that four of them should hang out once he gets better, after Elena hugged her thankfully Y/N held her arm before she left, it was dawn and theit shift had ended, ‘’What’s..’’ she began and cleared her throat, ‘’What’s his name? I didn’t look at the papers so I don’t-‘’

Elena laughed with her signature laugh, she was a cheerful woman,

 ‘’His name is Benny, Benny Cross.’’

Before she left work she didn’t forget to get his jacket from the locker, she wanted to wash it at home and bring it to the hospital, she had another shift starting in the afternoon.

In the afternoon, the jacket was clean and dry, and she was marching to the hospital. After wearing her uniform she learned which room they took him and she directly walked there. Her plan was to put the jacket there and leave to her surprise he was awake. When she walked in they locked eyes, he was laying there, dark circles under his deep blue eyes, he looked tired. There was a white cast on his ankle and covering his foot. She brought the jacket and put it on the chair next to his bed, no words were exchanged. She gently smiled after that and turned to leave before she heard him.

‘’Thank you.’’ His raspy voice was low, she stopped at the threshold and turned to him, ‘’You’re welcome.’’ She replied shortly and walked out of the room. She loved helping people and it wasn’t the first time she did something for a patient but she felt strange. There was a heavy feeling on her chest, she had to ignore it and get to work. She had to ignore because the last time she had given in to those feelings she had to leave her home and family behind and start fresh. There was a reason why no one knew anything personal about her and she had to keep it that way.

Days passed, she woke up, went to work, did her best and got home. She was used to this routine but Elena had a problem with it. She kept begging to Y/N, inviting her everywhere. They were in the lounge when Elena cornered her, ‘’You only have morning shift right?’’ she questioned her with her deep eyes, ‘’Yes.’’ Was Y/N’s answer. ‘’Then you’re coming with us this evening.’’ There she was, inviting her again, this time Y/N was silent for a while, usually her immediate response was ‘’Sorry but I have other things to do.’’ But this time she considered her options. She was a young woman and she deserved to be sociable in life, she couldn’t always be scared and look back. Y/N said she would be there and she just needed the address, there was a bar Elena and her husband were regulars of. She laughed when she saw Elena’s eyes got bigger by shock, ‘’Really? You are coming?’’ her mouth was open. Y/N laughed again, ‘’Yes. I would love to hang out with you and your husband, he seems like a nice guy.’’ It was about time she faced her fears. She was safe now, no one could harm her, not anymore. Elena gave her the address of the bar.

During the day she helped Dr. Smith, attended small surgeries, she was usually at the Emergency wing. At 5pm her shift ended so she went home, ate and took a shower.

She found herself in front of her bedroom mirror, she wore a dark red blouse and beige jeans with flat shoes, her hair was loose and she did a light make up. She looked at her finished look, it had been while since she went out and she felt powerful, finally her life was stable and she was saving money, making new friends. She looked very happy. She got her back, even gave herself a wink on the mirror and locked her door. She took the bus to the bar.

There were so many bikes outside of the bar she was startled, Elena had mentioned that her husband belonged to a motorcycle club and they would hang out together, the wives and girlfriends, they would have Sunday picnics as well. The door of the bar was wide open and people were coming and going, mostly men. She approached slowly, like a cat. There were some men wearing the same jacket she washed and cleaned for her patient last week, he must be a member of this club. These men were laughing really hard and drinking, she could see shadows through the windows and she found herself taking a step back, should she go in? It would be rude not to, Elena would be very upset… but she could lie to Elena and make up an excuse.. as she was having a mental breakdown a tall man walked passed her, he was limping a bit. He had dirty blonde hair, he was walking slowly to the bar with one of his hands holding his cigarette. She could only see his back but he looked familiar. When he reached the threshold  he stopped and turned to look at her, and that’s when she realized who was this young man. He was her patient from last week, Benny Cross. His blue eyes found her, they shared a brief moment of acknowledging each other, she swore she saw a faint smile on his face and then he walked in.

She noticed that she had been standing there for almost 7 minutes, people started to notice so she looked back at the road and then looked at the bar, a sudden feeling of courage washed over her entire body and her feet took her to the open door.

Thank you for reading. :)

[ms-wwe]

CHAPTER 1 (PT 1) OF MY NEW DAMIAN PRIEST X OC FIC!!

I stood in front of my full-length mirror studying my body and what it’s become, my tattoos that cover from my ankles to my collarbones have weathered and faded ink from years of living. My muscles are still prominent, yet not as defined as they were in my twenties. My short pixie-like almost black hair was still damp from my shower moments ago, my makeup-less face dawning dark circles beneath my eyes that never seemed to fade away even with layers of makeup. I sighed at the thought of what this morning would hold, how my life was fixing to be laid out in vivid detail to a woman I’d only spoken to via phone or email. I closed my eyes and exhaled, taking in the faint sound of the birds outside my bedroom window, being here, being home, always felt like a different world to me, and the thought of someone invading this home to dig up thirty-four years of trauma left a pit in my stomach. But alas, I was the one who asked to do this here, at the compound, in the comfort of my childhood home, the comfort of knowing my fathers were just some hundred feet away from where I was in the comfort of their own homes. I opened my eyes and stared at myself once more, adjusting the bra straps resting on my shoulders, and pulling the waistband of my underwear to a more comfortable position. I turned around to face my bed, grabbed the clothes I had sat aside a mere fifteen minutes prior, and began sliding them on. I figured since we were going to be reliving the horrors that eclipsed my life, I needed to be comfortable, which is why I chose to slide on grey sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt I took from my Orlando home. These clothes still smelt like Florida, of my beautiful modern home with high ceilings and black and white décor. I pulled the sleeves of the large sweatshirt into my palms and held it to my nose, raking in a deep inhale, embracing the comfort of the scent, this sweatshirt smelt of his Cologne, and it felt as if it was keeping me grounded in the impending doom of this day. I pulled myself from my daze, knowing my time to get ready and presentable was coming to an end sooner rather than later. I opened the flimsy old bedroom door and was immediately engulfed in the eerie silence inside the home, I still wasn’t used to it. I proceeded down the hallway to the kitchen, trying not to notice the picture frames still hung on the wall surrounding me, or the faint scent of old cigarette smoke still lingering in the air. My grandfather, the man who raised me for half of my childhood had been gone for years at this point, yet being in his home without him still had this strange ability to make it feel as though he’d just passed recently. It was a sensation I still had not grown accustomed to. I made my way into the kitchen and made a beeline straight for the old coffee pot that had seen better days, I never understood why my grandfather refused to upgrade to a Keurig machine, but now that he's gone I find comfort in this old coffee pot that was hanging on for dear life. I turned the pot on and grabbed the canister of coffee sitting on its right side, it was brand new and had a small note taped to the lid.

[drfrankenjoe]

Trick or Treat

After being refreshed on some of the Original/Blue Spine books and some of the questionable decisions the boys make during them, I got an idea for... whatever this is.

I tried to make it ambiguous what time period this was set, but it probably comes off most like a chapter of the 1950's rewrites. This also functions a little bit as an exploration of Frank's relationship with Fenton and Frank in general. Enjoy?

CW: Drugging (It's nothing worse than what would be in the books.)

Just as the boys were about to flag a taxi, a mid-sized sedan pulled up beside them. Lowered windows revealed a man who looked to be in his forties with cropped brown hair, steely eyes, and a goatee.

“You Fenton’s boys?” the driver questioned.

“Yeah,” answered Joe. “Are you a friend of Dad’s?”

“He told me you two might be here. If it weren’t for his accident, he’d pick you up himself, but that’s why he sent me.”

“Thank you Mr…” Frank paused long enough to let the man give him a name.

“Just call me Rudy.”

“Thanks Rudy.” A wave of uncertainty overtook him. “It’s weird, though. I don’t think I’ve heard Dad mention a Rudy before.”

“Oh yeah, we’ve only known each other for a few days. I took him in after the landslide.” Rudy dug something out from his back seat. “He told me you might like these.”

His hand returned holding two candy bars, Choco-Chuckles, a chocolate bar filled with nougat, nuts, and caramel, and Coconutter, a peanut-filled peanut butter bar coated in coconut flakes.

Joe swiped the Choco-Chuckles. “These are my favorites, thanks a lot!”

Frank turned around the Coconutter in his hands, staring at it intently.

“What’s the matter, son?” asked Rudy.

“I’m not a big fan of Coconutters,” Frank responded, then smirked, “but Dad probably didn’t know; he has more important things to worry about. Thanks.”

Rudy’s face faltered some, then settled back into a friendly smile. “Of course. Now why don’t you go and load your luggage in the trunk? Then we can be on our way.”

Once the brothers stowed their belongings, they took their places in the back seat.

“So, how’s Dad?” Joe opened the candy bar in his hand. “He didn’t have to go to a hospital?”

“No, he just needs to lay down for a while, and he’ll be right as rain.”

“Good to hear.” He took a bite and swallowed. “I’m guessing you live up on the mountain, right? Must not get visitors often, huh?”

“You’re right about that. Detective genes must run in the family.”

“Dad told you he’s a detective?” Frank spoke up.

“Not in those words, but I’m aware of the famous Fenton Hardy. I gotta say, it was quite a surprise to see him show up near my cabin.” Rudy’s eyes shifted towards him in the rearview mirror. “You must be his older son—Sorry, I’m bad with names.”

“Frank.”

“And I’m Joe.”

“Frank and Joe.” Rudy bobbed his head. “Nice to meet’cha. By the way, Frank, what is your favorite candy bar if you don’t mind me askin’?”

“Oh no, you don’t have to get anything for me.”

“No, I insist. It’s gonna be a while before we get to my place.”

“Probably a Krispen bar? But anything without nuts is fine.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Allergy?”

“Just a texture thing. You really don’t have to. I can deal with the Coconutter.”

“No need to be so polite, it’ll only take a sec. ‘Sides, there’s somethin’ else I need to buy anyway.” Soon, Rudy pulled into a gas station, and the car came to a stop. He took a step outside. “You two sit tight. I’ll be right back.”

Frank took advantage of his leave to discuss the mystery. “I wonder if that landslide was foul play. Maybe Dad was onto something.”

“You think Rudy did it?” his brother yawned.

“What? No. Why would he leave us here alone if he was part of the counterfeiting ring?”

Joe shrugged with an ‘I don’t know’ sound, then laughed. “Yeah, I can’t imagine a real crook going out of his way to get you your favorite candy. Thank goodness he was there to help Dad.”

“Yeah. With him out of commission, we’ll really have to keep on our toes. There’s no telling what tricks the real culprits have up their sleeves.”

“You think? If they’re behind what happened to Dad, then I think they’ve used up all their big guns. How many landslides can they make on one mountain, anyway?”

Frank gave Joe a warning look. “Let’s not find out.”

Blue eyes stared at the unopened candy bar. “Say, if you’re not eating that Coconutter, can I have it?”

“Knock yourself out.” 

Instead of opening it right away, Joe pocketed it. “We could always do with some extra rations just in case you jinx us and things go badly.” He grimaced, holding a hand over his stomach. “I’d rather not have a repeat of the last time you half-remembered Chet’s berry advice.”

“I told you not to eat a bunch at once!”

“Only after you told me that if it’s not green, yellow, or white, it’s alright.” He wagged a finger along with the pneumonic.

Frank sighed. “I’ll make sure to take notes next time.”

The front door opened, and in came Mark with Frank’s bar. He handed it back to him. “Here’s your Krispen bar.”

“Thank you.” Hungrier than he realized, Frank tore into the candy bar just before realizing that it would probably be better if he saved it for some other time. Oh well. If push came to shove, he and Joe could split the Coconutter.

Rudy pulled out of the parking lot and onto a highway headed into the mountains. The leisurely drive lulled Joe to sleep somewhere along the way. Frank stayed up to think about the counterfeiting ring, but even he had to admit that his eyelids were getting a little heavy.

“Nice scenery.” Some small talk should keep him awake. “Do you drive into town often?”

“Only when I need somethin’. Gettin’ to see the mountain from far away like this makes it worth the drive, don’t’cha think?”

“Speaking of the mountain,” he might as well do some digging around, “I know you said you don’t get many visitors, but do people hike there often?”

“I know there’s a few people who do.”

“Have you seen anyone recently?”

“Other than your pa, can’t say that I have.”

“What about caves?” Frank stifled a yawn. “Do you know if there are any caves or mining shafts around?”

“Well, I reckon there’s some of those around, but I wouldn’t know where they are. I don’t venture too far outside of my cabin. You never know what might be lurking in those woods.” Rudy’s eyes narrowed, then softened. “Don’t feel the need to make conversation for my sake. I’m used to making this trip alone. You can take a nap if you’d like. I see your brother has.”

“It’s okay.” This conversation didn’t give Frank much to work off of, but he wanted to see what he could do with what he was given.

“Let me ask you a question.”

“Me?” 

“What’s it like havin’ a father like the great Fenton Hardy?”

To be honest, Frank preferred to be the one asking questions, but he supposed this one was innocent enough. “It’s great.”

“Must be proud of him.”

“Of course. I couldn’t ask for a better dad.”

Rudy’s eyebrows raised. “Well, it’s good you feel that way, I suppose. I do have to wonder, though, with him being so well-known, he must get a lot of cases, yeah?”

That was pretty obvious. “He does.”

“Do you see him often?”

“When we can.”

Rudy chuckled. “I’ll take that as a no.”

Maybe Frank was just tired and hungry, but he didn’t care for this guy’s tone. He took care not to show it. “Other people need him around more than we do. We know he’s doing important work out there, so we can’t be mad.”

“How noble. I can’t say I’d be so selfless in your shoes, but your pa–or maybe your ma in this case–must’ve raised you well.”

“Thanks, they both did.” Frank smiled.

“It’s a shame they never taught you not to take candy from strangers.”

Frank saw his own eyes widen in the rearview mirror. His thoughts snapped to Joe. He tried shaking him, calling his name, and even clapping directly by his ear, but nothing woke him up. After inspecting his candy bar wrapper, he found a puncture hole hidden discreetly by a flap. They’d both been drugged.

“He won’t be waking up for a while.” Rudy all but confirmed his realization. “And I wouldn’t jump out of a car going 70 mph if I were you,” he narrated Frank’s next one, “unless you just wanted to get things over with.”

Frank took his hand off of the car door, mentally kicking himself in frustration. There had to be a way for him and Joe to get out of this car safely.

“I dunno much about little Joey over there, or your father, despite how much time we’ve spent together–”

So he did know their father! He must’ve been holding him captive.

“–but you seem like a nice kid. Too nice for your own good. You and your brother probably just wanted to follow in your pa’s footsteps. Maybe this is your family’s weird way of bonding. I hope we can go easy on you.”

Frank stared angrily, not willing to give his captor more information than he already had.

“The silent treatment, huh? Just like your old man. You might think I’m lyin’, but I really do feel bad for you, kid. At least my pa prepared me for the job hazards before welcomin’ me into the biz. And he knew my favorite candy bar!”

His father was also a counterfeiter? Noted.

“He never left me or Ma by our lonesome for too long. Made room in his schedule to come to as many of my track and field meets as he could. And when he couldn’t? Well, the son of a gun who held him back would hafta pay.”

Too bad Joe wasn’t awake. He’d get a kick out of this. Tragically, it was up to Frank to sass him on his own. “Gee, mister, that sounds really nice. I wish my dad could come to our track meets and buy us lots of candy. Unfortunately, he’s too busy saving lives.”

“You really think you’re slick, don’t’cha? Of course it’s not about the games or the treats.” Rudy’s face grew oddly sincere. “It’s about spendin’ time with your family. And he’s suckered you into thinkin’ that you’re less important to him.”

Frank could almost hear his brother whining ‘Gimme a break!’ “Question: If your dad cared about family so much, why risk going to prison making fake money when he could just get a legal job making legal money and still be able to spend time with you?” He fought against his eyelids. “Why even involve you?”

“I dunno, but followin’ in his footsteps is workin’ out better for me than it is for you two. Night-night, Frankie Boy.”

Where was Rudy taking the Hardys? Would their father be there, alive? How would they escape? Frank tried to keep himself awake with these questions and more, but despite his best efforts, his eyes came to a close, and the sounds of the road drifted away.

[heartofalifer]

you know when in the show there is always That One Broody and Traumatised Main Character I Am Awkward and Handshake Only Plis and there's a Sunshine and Love other half that never got together but then u find fanfics of them and like 89.37% of those they got together Broody One's love language is almost always touch and is the floofiest Soff Boi u want to protect forever?

yeah.

[flabber-worried]

guys i want to write a fic so so bad but i can only ever come up with little blurbs like this and can never fully flesh anything out

-

-

Things were never the same after Germany. When Ned called and they had that fight. Sure they patched it up but something was fractured between them. And between the boys. Which is exactly why Nancy didn’t call Frank when she was arrested, even though he was who she wanted to talk to most.

More than Bess.

More than George.

More than her dad.

More than… Ned.

But she needed Ned’s help and with how fresh that fracture was, she couldn’t risk a real break, so she never called. 

Frank of course, didn’t know this when he found out she had been arrested.

And Joe, who surprisingly understood immediately, found out when Frank nearly ran him over with the car, speeding out of the driveway to get to Nancy.

-

-

maybe i'll just post all the little snippets and call it a fic

[hobo-copp]

I have decided the fic I'm writing after I finish my current one will be Harry x Titus. Bc I literally can't find any content of them and the more I think of them the more I need it.

It just... Makes sense to me.

[waty-art]

Stranger Danger part 2

This is part 2 of Stranger Danger. Thank you for reading! quick disclaimer, this one has a short scene with an attempted attack on the boys.

part 1

Years later, on the Halloween of Frank’s 18th year and Joe’s 16th, they were once again celebrating the holiday.

The two brothers barely went tricker treating after the incident when they were younger, but they would instead have a tradition of watching a scary movie and opening the door to tricker treaters.

This year, Frank and Joe were left at the house alone while their parents had left for one of dad’s business dinners.

Fenton and Laura had always been wary on this particular night after what had happened, and they almost decided not to go and leave the boys alone. Of course Frank and Joe reassured them they would be fine and wouldn’t be going outside recklessly, they had even decided to invite their friends Chet Morton and Biff Hooper to watch the movie and hang out.

Chet Morton was a stout, heavy set boy who had red hair and freckles. He was good friends with both boys and often had the two brothers laughing their heads off. They laughed mainly when something happened to Chet’s treasured jalopy which he had named “Queen”. When something befell the car the red head would go wild.

Biff Hooper was closer to Frank than he was to Joe, due to the fact that both blondes had gotten off on the wrong foot in middle school, due the fact that Joe was indeed the spoiled younger sibling and didn’t like how Biff was taking up Frank’s attention. Joe and Biff later grew out of their major rivalry and ended up becoming friends. They still bantered jokingly and liked to annoy each other.

Biff had his blonde hair cut short and was taller than Frank by a few inches, but had double the muscle Frank did.

Today Frank ditched his dress shirts because he couldn’t stand Joe nagging him to dress more causally for a whole day. He wore a large dark blue sweater and black jeans while Joe wore his “Bay Port High” basketball jersey over a black T-shirt with ripped blue jeans.

The four friends were currently alone at the house and were setting up for the movie.

“Joe! Help me get the plates for the pizza!” Frank called from the kitchen to Joe who was in the living room across from it.

The house had an open hallway by the front door which had the kitchen on one side and the living room on the other. The bedrooms were located up the large, dark wooden stair case.

“Yeesh! I’m coming Frank, calm down.” Joe retorted in annoyance as he sauntered into the kitchen and walked to the cabinets over the sink.

“Hey does anyone know where the popcorn is?” Chet questioned opening and closing cabinet doors rapidly in search of the snack.

“Dude, you’ve basically lived at this place, if anyone should know where anything is, it’s you.” Biff teased with a smirk as he strolled into the kitchen. “Also, Frank, where do you keep the soda?”

Frank gave Biff a deadpan expression. “Am i the only one who knows anything around here?” Frank exclaimed exasperatedly as he began to cut the pizza with the cutter roughly.

“No, I know something.” Chet interjected snidely. “I know that you guys don’t have any fricking popcorn!”

“Language.” Frank warned, digging the cutter into the pizza particularly hard.

Biff only chuckled as he watched Frank struggle with the pizza cutter. “Did you burn that thing’s crust because it looks like you are cutting into a rock.” Biff joked as he tried to take the pizza cutter from Frank so he could help.

“For your information, No I did not. Now go get the soda, it’s in the fridge you big idiot.” Frank stated sternly, yanking the pizza cutter away from Biff who raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Frank, is Biff bothering you?” Joe questioned as he stalked over with the plates in his hands.

“Ye-“ Frank started but Biff interrupted rapidly.

“Don’t sick Joe on me Frank.” Biff laughed nervously.

The four fools finally finished bickering playfully and got all the food laid out in the coffee table in the living room which stood in front of the leather couch.

“Alright, we are doing this by popular demand!” Joe announced standing in front of The TV. “we have three selections to choose from.”

The majority ended up voting for “The Village” much to Frank’s dismay. He absolutely hated that movie and knew it would be picked when Biff said he never saw it.

Joe always played it just to mess with Frank and get him to flip out when a jump scare happened.

The group began taking their seats on the long couch.

Frank sat in the middle seat which was usually his designated spot for movie nights, and Biff tried to sit next to his best friend but Joe was faster. Joe zipped from in front of the TV to Frank’s side almost instantly, plopping down smugly next to his brother who rolled his eyes at the two’s playful shenanigans.

Biff laughed then sat on Frank’s other side while Chet sat on Joe’s.

They were 20 minutes into the movie and Frank had already gotten frightened and spilled the popcorn when he jolted from a jump scare. This happened two times more until Joe ripped the popcorn bowl from his hands and revoked his snack privileges.

Chet also flipped out a bunch of times already, and a pizza slice had landed on Joe’s lap in the process.

Biff laughed heartily and Joe scowled at him grumpily. Everyone was enjoying the movie, some more than others, when the doorbell rang.

“Oh yeah, this is about the time when tricker treaters start trickling in.” Biff observed.

“I got it!” Frank offered a little more eager than he meant to, causing everyone on the couch to laugh. Frank stood up and began walking out into the hallway, grabbing the candy bowl on his way out.

Now do you remember how calm Joe had been after the incident years ago? Well, let’s just say that Joe wasn’t really that calm on the inside. He always was wary of the Holiday after what had happened.

The disturbing memories were now attached to this day, which is why Joe also got up and followed his brother to the door. Joe never forgot that night, so he always felt justified when he became uneasy on this day.

Frank unlocked the door twisted the nob, opening the door to find a tall person in a black hoodie and pants, wearing a white face mask with only the eyes showing. Frank’s eyes traveled down to spot something sticking out of the man’s hoodie pocket, Frank couldn’t be sure what it was but his best guess was a kitchen knife from the look of the wooden handle peaking out of the pocket.

Before Frank and Joe could move, the mysterious person took out his knife and tried to lunge at them, but thankfully Joe was fast enough to start pushing the door closed.

Frank dropped the plastic candy bowl to the ground and him and Joe immediately began pressing all of their weight against the door which the masked person was trying to push open.

Biff and Chet rushed into the hallway to find the two brothers battling with the door.

“What the hell?” Chet screamed when he saw the white mask peek around the door.

“Don’t just stand there you idiots!” Joe shouted furiously.

Biff and Chet got the message and all four of them were slamming their bodies against the door, successfully closing it. Still pressing their bodies against the door Frank reached for the door lock and turned it harshly.

There was no sound except for the heavy breathing from the group. They all were wide eyed and frightened, but they felt relief.

“Chet, go call the police!” Frank ordered between heavy pants.

It took Chet a second to process the command, but when he got it he sped off down the hall and into the kitchen where the phone was.

Meanwhile Frank and Joe could only stare wide eyed at each other.

The boys did not even attempt to look outside the windows, but instead made sure everything was locked and that the blinds were down. No one said a word except for Chet who wouldn’t leave the police phone operator alone until the officers came. When the officers arrived in two sturdy squad cars Frank and Joe were hesitant to open the door for them, so instead Biff did. The policemen asked questions and the boys gave their best answers but in the end there was no trace of the man that tried to attack them, he had just vanished.

Sadly there was no way to identify the man and no proof of force entry, so The officers couldn’t do anything. Once the officers left the boys were alone again.

Frank decided to phone Fenton and tell him what happened, but it went straight to voice mail.

“What we should do is just stay all together in one room and try to calm down.” Biff reasoned, seeing clearly that Frank and Joe were shaken quite a bit, Frank was completely quiet, but fright was etched in his features.

Joe was too stubborn to show fear, but Biff knew he was still just as afraid.

“Yeah…” Joe responded quietly, as he watched his older brother try to hide his emotions. “don’t worry Frank, everything’s gonna be ok.” Joe tried to reassure his sibling even though he was terrified himself. Joe’s comforting words relaxed the black-haired Hardy, but he didn’t want anyone to think he was being coddled by his younger brother.

“I-I know that. I don’t need to be comforted!” Frank stuttered in embarrassment, causing Joe to give a small smile. Joe then took his brother’s hand in his and led him back to the couch, the two then settled down and the others joined them. Frank and Joe huddled against each other while Biff and Chet took their original seats.

For the rest of the night the four boys tried to watch something lighthearted and funny to distract themselves.

Time passed and they chuckled softly at some parts of the new movie they picked, but Joe never let go of the baseball bat that he had retrieved from his room and Chet would often nervously look over his shoulder.

Biff was ready to jump from the couch and defend everyone if he had to and Frank was a ball of nerves but tried not to show it.

Finally at 12:55 the parents arrived home. At first when the doorbell rang the boys froze and exchanged frightened glances, then they heard the faint sound of their Father yelling to open up.

The door was practically ripped off its hinges and the parents were pulled in by the four erratic boys. The boys all began talking at once, trying to explain the events that had happened.

Fenton immediately stopped them and tried to calm them down.

They eventually explained everything and the Hardy parents were in shock, but Fenton’s detective mode kicked in and, believe me, he knew how to stay calm in these types of situations.

The first course of action was to get Chet and Biff home safely, so Fenton called their parents and told them what had happened. Finally Biff and Chet were saying goodbye to the brothers with tight hugs, but their smiles were forced and tight. Once Biff and Chet were gone Fenton and Laura sat the boys down in the kitchen around the table and asked them if they were alright.

Of course they lied, not wanting to look like cowards in front of two people they respected and loved.

Fenton knew they were lying, but he couldn’t force them to talk about it so he let them go get ready for bed. once they were in the bedroom, they were silent for the most part while Frank changed into his flannel pajamas, and Joe swapped his jersey and jeans for his boxers and a T-shirt.

Up until it was time to get into bed, it was dead silence.

Frank stared at his bed in horror. He didn’t know what would visit him in his dreams tonight.

Joe also dreaded climbing into his bed, not excited for bad memories to replay in his head all night.

“Joe…” Frank called quietly, but he didn’t have to say anything else, because Joe understood what he was getting at.

Joe walked over to his brother’s side, and the two climbed into Frank’s bed like they did years ago. Once settled under the covers together, Joe spoke softly. “And you said you weren’t sensitive.” Joe teased in a whisper. Frank huffed grumpily, but didn’t have a comeback.

“Just shut up and go to sleep.” Frank then shut his eyes, moving closer to his brother.

Joe grinned, then wrapped his arm over Frank’s side.

Wow! I did it! I posted my first fic….it might not be that great but I had a lot of fun writing it.

Thank you so much for reading!

[izooleo]

But he’s closer to Titus than he’s ever been before. And for once, he doesn’t think. Willingly. He chooses to drown in that haze that wraps both of them in like a bed on a winter day. And he kisses him.

..

Kim falls asleep on top of Titus. When they wake up, they're closer than ever

..

Im sorry for the quality drop at the end of the fic, things... happened ksdjaldsja but !! new disco fic! tried some new things!

[maddysworldofchaos]

i NEED people to write fics about JB Cox from the Hardy Boys (2020) 😻😻😻😻 i love him omg

[storyweaverofgondor]

Summary: Joe struggles with the aftermath of the episode Sole Survivor. Thankfully he's not alone.

[bel1ewrites]

Good Luck, Babe! (Sam Carpenter x Reader)

a/n: Long time no see......... Originally this was a Wanda Maximoff fanfic, but I needed Sam in a tank top again. ps. listen to Good Luck, Babe! by Chapell Roan if you want to understand this more or watch Stardew valley female farmer x Haley edits.

Description: You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling.

WC: 2.9k

Warnings: Bar bathroom sex, bottom!reader, top!Sam, farmer!Sam, internalized homophobia, brief kissing of men :(, angst, mentions of alcohol

IT was getting difficult to keep track of the number of shots you’d gone through, each one drowning out your regrets more than the last. The bar was stuffy. It was full of sweaty bodies and slurred words, Friday night drawing most people from town to wind down from a week full of work. It was always a risk coming here, you knew that.

She frequented this bar, sipped on whiskey and laughed lightly with the other farmers at the bartop. But you didn’t care. Besides, you weren’t there for her! You weren’t. You were there to find a new boy to distract yourself with, to spend the night next to. 

The martini you’d ordered sat untouched in front of you, taunting you quietly as if reading your thoughts. 

“Hey there pretty lady,” a voice called from behind you, raised slightly so that you could hear him over the chatter. 

You turned on your stool, eyes met with a man. They all looked the same to you: like, well, men. This one had glasses, which was a good thing you’d supposed. He was handsome enough. His hair was dark, near black, and slicked back with a thick layer of gel. The thought of running your hands through the sticky mess made your stomach churn. Not because you didn’t like man hair! You just didn’t like gel, which was a valid reason that had nothing to do with his gender.

Running a hand through your hair, you put on your best smile and lowered your eyelids -a trick as old as time-. “Hi,” you said sweetly, offering him your name. His eyes lit up, beer hanging comfortably in his hand. 

The background noise grew louder, hoots coming from a number of men somewhere behind you. A mixture of, “Took you long enough!”s and “Look who decided to show up!”s grabbing your attention. You brushed it off, stayed facing away from the ruckus and tried to focus on gel boy’s words. 

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he said smoothly, eyes running down your figure. “I’m Har-”

“Alright boys enough!” a familiar voice shot out through the room, rasped syllables filling your ears and sending shivers up your spine. You didn’t turn around, wouldn’t. Your feet stayed planted as her laugh sparked your body to life. 

You thought long and hard. Thought about what to do, where to go. You should stay, there was no reason to leave. And anyways, the night was far from over. The clock behind -Harley? Hardy?- the man read half past nine. No, you would stay and have fun with Har-what’s-it and you would go home with him if he asked and you wouldn’t think about a certain farmer with black hair and impressively skilled forearms. Forearms that were sculpted from lifting and plowing and planting. Forearms that you wanted to watch move as her hands found their way-

“Um, hello?” Har-gel asked, scratching his neck with his free hand. His cheeks were tinged with a slight pink. He seemed like a sweet guy, one who would marry a sweet girl and have babies with her. A girl who wasn’t you. 

You grasped the collar of his shirt, pulled him down towards you with your back pressed against the bartop. “Can we makeout?” you asked, eyes flicking down to his parted lips. They were chapped a little. You looked away from them. 

He didn’t hesitate, just placed his beer on the surface behind you and boxed you in with his arms, hips pressing to yours as he moved closer between your legs. 

The kiss was fine. It tasted like beer and the stubble on his chin poked yours painfully. It was fine, his tongue was in your mouth and like, that was fine you guessed. He was respectful with it, hands not venturing from their spot behind you. You waited, kissed back, went to run a hand through his hair and thought better of it. You waited some more. 

After what seemed like an eon, he pulled back. His cheeks were bright red and his glasses were foggy, lips a little swollen as his breath rushed out from them. You didn’t feel much of anything besides indifference. There was a pit in your stomach, one that you ignored entirely. It was probably something everyone experienced when they kissed a man, one that was meant to be pushed aside. 

“Wanna get out of here?” Har-don asked, gazing down at you with a look that was definitely meant to be attractive, and probably would’ve been if not for the shots in your system. 

“Yeah!” you said, smile painfully forced, “Just let me go use the restroom really quick.” he backed up as you went to stand, digging through your purse and setting two twenties down next to your drink. 

Your legs carried you to the women's room, hands fussing with the tangles he’d made in your hair. The dress you wore was one of your favorites, one that screamed summer. It was the perfect length for going out, not too short but not too long. It flowed around you as you pushed the bathroom door open, sighing with relief when you realized you were alone. 

When you met your eyes in the mirror, you couldn’t help but look away. You were ashamed, you felt like a fraud. The pit in your stomach grew, so you washed your hands to distract yourself. The water was cold as it rushed out of the faucet, soothing your overheated body and disarrayed mind while you watched it hit your skin. You stood there with your hands under the water for longer than normal, not even glancing up when the door opened.

Briefly, the sounds of the bar flooded the bathroom, fading as the door swung shut. Subconsciously you reached out, pushed on the soap dispenser and watched the foam fall into your dripping hand. You just needed a minute before you went back to the sweet man with the glasses, a second to collect yourself. 

“Got a lot on your mind?” a woman asked from behind you. Well, not just a woman. The woman. 

The woman who you shared your secrets with, who held you when you cried and listened to you say things like, “it's just not the way I am, Sam,” after the two of you got done fucking. She was the woman who made you believe in love, who showed you how colorful the world could be. 

Her hair was pulled back, a few stray pieces falling messily around her face. It was still dark, but the summer sun had brightened it up a little bit. She was clad in her work clothes, tank top tucked into her jeans, boots laced perfectly. It was easy to tell what she’d been up to the past few months, her toned arms and tanned skin hinting at long days spent on the farm. You forced your eyes away from her figure in the mirror, looking back at your hands in the water. 

“Nope,” you sighed, turning the water off and drying your hands. “Just freshening up.”

She huffed out a laugh, crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t blame you,” she admitted. “I’d wash my hands after that little show too.”

You couldn’t help the heat that rushed to your cheeks, movement halting momentarily, hands frozen in brown paper towels. You hadn’t meant for her to see that, not consciously at least. You just needed to distract yourself, just needed a minute to focus on something other than her. 

“If you came in here to slut shame me, I’m not in the mood,” your voice was cold, eyes catching hers in the mirror. You still hadn’t turned to face her. You couldn’t

Her brows pinched together, lips parting to say something before shutting again. Her tongue darted out the wet them. She took a step closer. “I didn’t mean- well, I did, but I’m sorry.” 

You shrugged, “not like I care.” You shoved the paper towels into the trash can next to you and leaned into the mirror, running a finger under your lip to fix the smudges there. The reminder of the feeling of stubble against your chin made your stomach churn, but your face remained impassive. 

You can hear Sam groan from behind you, probably pinching the bridge of her nose between her pointer and thumb. “I hate when you say that.” 

“Say what?”

She took another step closer, the sound of her boots hitting the floor sending shocks to your system. “That you don’t care.”

You stayed quiet, looked at yourself in the mirror. You saw a girl, a fraud, a liar. You saw your future flash in front of you, an unhappy marriage, nothing more than some man’s wife. 

She was right behind you now, close enough that you could feel her presence like a promise. She put her hand on the counter, leaned forward until you could see her face in the peripheral. 

“Look at me.” she pleaded lowly, desperation in her tone. It was impossible to keep your eyes from meeting hers. She stood behind you, arms at her sides and gaze burning into you. Her body pressed into you as you leaned away from the mirror, her hands falling to your waist. “Tell me you want me to go,” she sighed, burying her face in your neck and inhaling. You couldn’t help but fall further into her. 

You said nothing, your own hands moving to grasp at hers and drag them up your body until she was hugging you from behind, breathing you in and squeezing. 

“Tell me to leave,” her voice was muffled in your neck, lips moving against your skin as she placed kisses there like last resorts. 

You shook your head, lashes fluttering as you gave into the feeling of her again. Her eyes met yours in the mirror, hands squeezing your flesh. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you when she bit you softly, teeth digging into your jugular. 

“Say you want this,” she spoke the sentence like a prayer.

You couldn’t manage the words.

“Tell me you want me,” She ordered, voice hard. Her breathing was heavy, you could feel her hands shake slightly from where they were pressed into you. “Say it or I’ll leave right now. I swear, I’ll leave and pretend you never existed.” The words were sharp and final. 

All you could manage was a nod, brows drawn together in want. She moved, taking her face out of your neck and towering over you, though your height differences weren’t drastic. Her hands skated down your pelvis, landing on your hips and squeezing, pulling you into her. 

“Use your words,” she pried, eyes dark and pupils blown. 

You couldn’t. Your mouth was glued shut, it was impossible to say anything to her, impossible to do anything other than shake your head and squeeze her hands on your hips. You were so lost in her that you forgot all about the bar, all about the bathroom, the unlocked door. There was nothing but her. Her hands, her hair, her face, her mouth. 

She moved her hand, pushing you forward with a grip on the back of your neck and folding you over the counter. Heat rushed through you, settling in the bottom of your stomach and making you close your eyes. The counter was fairly long, seemingly built for fucking on top of. 

“Don’t worry,” she reassured you, her hand trailing down your back, the other still on your hip. “I’ll get you to say it.” 

You let out a high pitched squeak, a mix between a whine and a sound of shock when she pulled the skirt of your dress up, pushing it past your lower back. 

Her fingers ran over your skin, nails digging in as she dragged her hand lower and lower, pushing into you and leaning forward to speak in your ear. You moaned quietly, hips moving against the pressure of her still hand, seeking relief. “Would you have let him bend you over this counter,” she asked, kissing your shoulder. “What would he say if he saw this? If he saw you all desperate and needy for me, whining and begging for me to fuck you,” she looked at you, face pink and lips parted, and hummed. 

When she started moving her hand you had to bite into your lip to keep quiet, so hard that you were afraid you’d bleed. Her fingertips pressed into your clit, moving in calculated circles just how you liked it. She’d always been so good at reading you, at figuring out just what made you tick, what made you need her. 

“Please,” you panted when she slowed her hand, watching as she smiled menacingly from behind you before pulling the last layer of fabric down your parted legs. When she put her fingers back they were met with slick heat, the sound of her groan only making your need worse.

“Say it,” she said, running her fingers through you, feeling the way you wanted her. Her breathing stuttered when you let out a needy sound, her fingers pressing tight circles right where she knew you wanted them. It was too slow, you needed more.

You suppressed a moan, covering your mouth with your hand. 

“You used to be so good for me,” she pouted, pulling your hand away from your mouth and holding it behind your back with her free one. “What happened?”

Without warning, she slid two fingers into you, pulling a deep moan from you, too loud for a public bathroom. Her fingers pushed down, finding the spot that only she knew before you could even comprehend it. She fucked you like she meant it, hard thrusts powered by months of pent up need. It was scary how fast she was able to build you up, how fast she got you panting and begging. 

“Fuck,” you whined, straining your neck to look back at her for the first time, as opposed to her reflection in the mirror. 

“Face forward,” she ordered, pounding into you harder, “look at how pretty you are, taking me like this. Tell me you want this, baby.” Her voice was dripping with need, the steady rhythm of her thrusts hauling you closer. 

“Harder,” you groaned, pushing back into her and leaning up on your free arm. The fabric of your dress rubbed against your skin where it lay, the sensation was so dirty. You were being fucked over a bathroom sink, watching yourself get more and more pathetic as your ex buried her fingers in you.

Her thrusts grew softer, slower, enragingly delicate. “Say you fucking want me.” Her words were a stark contrast against the way she fucked you, the way she drew it out.

“Please, please Sam. I need it.” your mouth dropped open, little sounds flowing from it as she sped up again, fucking you just how she knew you liked it. Your eyes were closing of their own accord, struggling to stay open and watch as her muscles moved while she fucked you against a bar sink. 

“Good girl,” she smiled, letting go of your hand to rub your clit again. You almost fell as the pressure inside of you skyrocketed, becoming almost unbearable. “Now tell me who you belong to.”

You couldn’t comprehend her words, too focused on the orgasm that was quickly approaching, preparing your body for the shock of it. “I’m so close, baby, I’m so close. Just like that.”

Your cunt was throbbing with need, finally reunited with the person who knew you the best. All those months of fucking yourself would never amount to the way Sam did. The way she commanded your entire being.

She stopped moving. All movement stopped. Her hands, her body, her mouth. You almost cried as her fingers stilled inside of you. The orgasm rushed away, dissolving into painful pleasure and disappointment.

“No, no. Why did you stop? Sam, why?”

“Tell me who you belong to.”

“Wha-” she started moving again, slowly rubbing a spot deep inside of you. You sucked in a breath. You were so turned on it hurt, wetness running down your thighs.

“Say it,” she stressed, fingers moving on your clit again, your orgasm sparked back to life, slowly building again. The longer you waited the faster she went, working you back up until you were on the edge, one move away from cumming. 

“I’ll stop again and walk out of this goddamn bathroom so fast,” she growled over your moans. It was so hard to focus, you needed her so bad you couldn't breathe. "Who do you belong to? Who else fucks you like this?"

“You,” you choked out through a whine. Her thrusts sped up. You pulled her in with no resistance, clenching around her fingers and dripping with need “You. I belong to you, I’m yours. No one fucks me like you do, no one touches me like you do. Please let me cum Sam, please.”

The world seemed to pause when she leaned into you, kissing your neck and fucking you like you earned it. She was giving you all of herself, showing you who you belonged to and who you needed. Your brain was foggy, no sound came out of you as you came, cheek pressed against the counter and hands clenching into fists. Your elbow had given out, leaving you arched into the bar sink.

"That's it," Sam cooed, slowing down to fuck you through the wave of your orgasm, "You're so pretty."

Shock after shock hit, each one leaving you shaking even as she rested unmoving inside of you. "You did so good."

Your whole body was on fire, throbbing and twitching as you worked through it, Sam whispering praise in your ear.

She kissed your cheek, a sound of protest leaving you when she pulled her fingers out of you. You stayed still, your body moving with the force of your breaths.

"I locked the door when I came in," Sam smiled, rubbing your back soothingly.

You would ask her later, when you regained your ability to speak, how she knew to lock it. You would ask why she followed you, why she cared after you left her like she meant nothing. But for that moment, all you could do was lay there and listen to her love you.

[ms-wwe]

CHAPTER I (PT. 2) DAMIAN PRIEST X OC

“ Your favorite! Don't drink too much before your interview baby doll. I'll be at the house if you need me.”

- Daddy

The note brought a smile to my face as I popped the lid on the coffee canister, taking in the strong scent of coffee grounds as I began prepping the pot. Though I was a thirty-four-year-old woman, I still found immense comfort in knowing at least one of my dads gave a damn enough about how stressful today may be for me to stay planted at their home that was just down the hill. Knowing if this interview became too much, too hurtful, that I could go running into his arms felt like a security blanket. I examined the kitchen for the next five minutes while my coffee brewed, the pantry was stocked with food I’d eat, there were drinks and snacks in the refrigerator, and I knew that this had to of been the work of my fathers. Knowing them, they likely assumed I’d be too nervous and too dread-filled to go grocery shop for a house that sits empty until I pay a visit, and they were right, groceries hadn’t even crossed my mind. I considered making myself a meal, it was eight fifteen and I had plenty of time to eat before this interview happened, yet the thought of putting food in my system made me feel sick, so I chose to skip the meal and enjoy my hot black coffee all on its own. I opened the cabinet next to the fridge and pulled out a coffee mug, one of my grandfather's favorites. It was a large mug that had been in this house since before I existed. It had a weird yellow hue to it now, my guess from the years of daily use, and on the front had an old logo that had started to fade away. It was for an old diner that used to exist in town but had been shut down for years. According to my grandfather, it was where he and my grandmother went to breakfast after church every Sunday. He always said using this mug made him feel connected to her again, and now I’m using it to feel connected to him. I poured my coffee and decided to enjoy out on the front porch in one of the old rockers. As soon as I opened the front door, I was hit with the crisp fall morning air, something I missed being in Florida permanently now. I made my way to the closest rocker and curled up in the seat, taking in the view from my grandfather’s porch. The compound of more acres than I cared to know of land that my grandparents had bought in the early days of their marriage. Their house, a single-story, old-timey ranch home, sat on top of a rather large hill, and now, it overlooked two massive homes flanking either side in the close distance. My fathers lived in these homes with their respective families and children. I looked at both houses, trying to see if I could discern any activity in the homes yet but to no surprise, I couldn’t quite tell from this angle. I sipped my coffee and took in the morning as much as I could, knowing in less than an hour, I’d be in the most uncomfortable position I’ve ever experienced in my life. My phone buzzed in my back pocket, jolting me out of my doomsday thoughts. I immediately pulled it from my pocket and smiled at the incoming call as I swiped to answer it. “Mija,” the deep voice said happily, and suddenly, I was back on earth without a care in the world.

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

There is nothing left for Jey to do on Raw… we know he not getting another title shot, especially from Sami so from now, until he gets thrown back into the bloodline story he will be in dumbass matches that do him no good…

Shoulda just drafted his ass to SD and let him take the title from Logan Paul… but hey, what the hell do I know? I’m just a fanfic writer 🤷🏽‍♀️😒

Matt and Jeff Hardy were single champions so why tf can’t Jimmy and Jey have a couple of single title runs???

All they want that man for is his entrance and it’s sad. Homie has had the most matches out of ANYONE on the entire WWE roster and yall wanna keep him off the one of the biggest PLEs of the year?

FOH

And when Jimmy does come back.

Work on his damn character! We get it he’s a player hater but damn, can we get some fucking story progression! Like WHY did he go back to Roman? That shit made no sense…

Jimmy can still be goofy but he can win matches too! He doesn’t need to be SmackDowns resided bitch boy shits weird,

when it comes to The USOs it seems like creative doesn’t give a fuck. Them men have been busting their asses for 14+ years.

14 years of GREAT proms , GREAT matches just for them to be reduced to Yeet vs No Yeet?

I HATE BEING AN USOS FAN RIGHT NOW! I WANT BETTER FOR OUR FAVES AND IT LOOKS LIKE WERE NOT GON A GET IT NO TIME SOON.