What if the MC getting run over turned out to be a very realistic nightmare and the RO’s woke up in bed with the MC asleep right next to them?
M wakes up screaming, the sound waking you up from your slumber. They don't notice your touch or voice in their panic episode, the dream replaying over and over again though their mind. But your gentle voice turning into a frantic yelling snaps them out of it. Before you could blink, they wrapped them tightly against you, their tears staining your shirt as little tremors base through their body.
L can still feel the tears when they wake up. They almost jump out of bed to distract their mind before noticing you beside them. Their heart aches as they long to take you into their arms and never let go. But they don't want to bother you with this. It was just a dream. Nothing serious. However, they gently hold your hand in theirs. Letting your warmth draw them back into sleep.
B is frantic when they wake up. Their mind only wanting to you. In their haste to get out of bed, they end up in a tangled heap on the floor. However once they notice you, they gently get back into bed. Laying their head on your chest, as gingerly as they can so you will not wake you up, they drift off to the sound of your breathing and heartbeat.
You actually wake up to J keeping you in a tight hold in their arms. No matter what you say, they will not answer your questions. Each one only being responded by another squeeze. The tension in their shoulders loosening when you return their embrace. J ends up falling asleep once you settle down, content that you are here.
V actually wakes you up with their pestering. They don't fully know why as the dream has mostly faded away when they woke up. But the intense desire to see your eyes is keeping them actually going to sleep. So they rouse you away from Dreamland, taking in your tired and confused eyes. Eyes that are truly alive.
C doesn't care anymore. Even if you tease for being soft right now, which makes no sense as this isn't caused by sickening puppy love or something more corny. But they shuffled themselves closer to you, inch by inch so you won't see them so vulnerable. They just want to take in each sign of life from your body, letting their anxiety fade away with each thump of your heart.
Avery actually wakes up with their hands tightly wounded into their bedsheets, little phantom pains on their knuckles and knees from their dream. They don't want to go back to sleep, back to the world where you are no longer there. So they simply watch you until the sun arrives at dawn. Taking in every little breathe and particular sleep patterns to store in their memory. Erasing every notion that your life was so cruelly taken.
Kahula wakes up choking on air, each breath coming out harsher than the last. They haven't had an attack like this since they were a kid. They scramble to get close to you, a firm grip placed on your wrist to feel the rhythm of your heartbeat. They curl up even closer, lulled back to contentment with each rise of your chest. They never want your heart to stop beating.
Traveling across the country on an amazing roadtrip was supposed to be the best summer of best friends Character A and B’s lives. Greasy food, rockin’ tunes, and quality time with their favorite person in the world. It spelled the beginning of an amazing new chapter in their lives.
After seeing the World’s Biggest Ball of Twine, they stumbled back into the car and hooked the AUX back up for some good old Barenaked Ladies, but Character B’s phone must have played the wrong song because instead of “Pinch Me,” Character B’s voice memo played out over the speakers.
“Audio Diary Entry #34: I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I want to tell them how I feel, but I can’t. Everything is so messed up. I wish I could change things. I wish I could stop being like this -- the last thing I want to do is ruin this, or us, or anything. God knows... <sigh> To be honest...I just wish they would ruin me.”
After a long period of silence, Character A glanced over at Character B’s frozen face. “Well, this is going to be an awkward 1,500 miles, isn’t it?”
Summary: What better to wind down from a busy day at work than in the company of someone you care about, doing something you love.. and risking disturbance charges?
Word Count: 4k
Warnings/Genre: sfw, 18+ regardless/minors dni, fluff and good times ahead, mutual pining
a/n: y’all better not get arrested after that for waking up the neighborhood.
Part 10: Busy Mornings, Quiet Nights
A morning shift. Waking up early enough that the sun hasn’t fully arrived and the garage doors are just being opened. Not always a favorite, but that does leave the rest of the day after work free for you, and you do have a date with your car and the rest of those carbon fiber parts.
Even better, a friend volunteered to help you out too. Car time and friend time, sounds like a good time to any tinkerer. But that will have to wait until after the shop closes, and it's only just opened.
Just opened, and Nishinoya arrives right after you while you’re still sitting in your driver’s seat, gathering your things along with the will to get out. Meaning he has a clear view of your unfortunate donut from his truck.
Laughter fills the air as he hops out of the truck, “Nice!”
You pull yourself from your own vehicle with a scowl, “Uh huh.”
A new driveshaft on a Subaru, drum brakes on a Nissan, and front struts on a Honda down. Kiyoko has you booked up for the morning and she isn't even here yet. Oftentimes the shop will be dead for up to an hour upon opening. Today, that isn’t the case. So much for bringing your car in first thing.
“When is Kiyoko coming in? I have a complaint about being this busy on a Monday.”
Takinoue chuckles darkly from behind the front desk, where you assume he’s looking up the next appointment. “Then you’re gonna love her tomorrow. Got a Mitsubishi with engine work to fill your schedule.”
You suppress a groan with there being customers coming in behind you. “Great.”
“Ready for the next?” He asks.
“But what about lunch?” You almost whine, almost. Break time would be nice right about now.
Still, a set of keys slide over the counter to you. “Just an oil change. Please?”
An oil change on a Honda Civic, easy enough. You should have this out of here in no time. Drain the oil, change the filter, add new oil, top off fluids, and so on. When it’s nearly ready to go, it took maybe 15 minutes of your time. Just to add some air to the tires and-
You work your way around the car until you’re down to the driver front tire. You don't even get the valve stem cap off when you notice a deep gash in the sidewall. It’s about three inches long and appears to be deep enough that it's nearly to the belts.
“Well shit.”
Returning to the front desk, Takinoue is still sitting there, for some reason. “Bruh, why are you still in here?”
He looks away from the computer screen only mildly annoyed by the question. “‘Cause Kiyoko will be here soon and no one did the morning half of the paperwork and that's gonna piss her off.” He jabs a finger in your direction.
Point made. “Okay, well, can you call for the owner of the Civic you had me do an oil change on? I’m done with that, but they should really replace their driver front tire ‘cause there’s a gash in the sidewall.”
“Uh, sure, but they looked to be high schoolers.”
“Call their parents then? I don't know,” your words rushed as you turn for the garage. “I’ll be out here. Just let me know what I’m doing.”
Waiting to hear back on that situation, you sit on a stool next to the Civic from where it waits in the air. Spinning side to side, phone in hand. Another setback for your lunch.
>> To Kyou: “still good for tonight? :)”
>> From Kyou: “yeah what time?”
You stop your spinning and hum. You’ll have to wait until after closing to borrow the shop, and you’ll be off work a couple of hours before then. Inconvenient, but at least you’ll have some time to clean up a little. Wouldn’t hurt to get grease off of you before meeting up with him.
>> To Kyou: “after 7 okay?”
“Yo, Y/n!” Takinoue calls out, “Go ahead and change it!”
You don't even bother yelling anything back. An impact is instantly in your hand and you get it work.
You manage to bring your car into the garage for a quick tire change before lunch. The plan was to repair the flat, but unfortunately it isn't fixable. Disappointing for sure, but worth it to retire that donut.
It's a quarter past noon by the time you return and Kiyoko and Daichi are just arriving to work. The latter arriving in time to talk to a tow truck driver that's lowering a sedan off a rollback and into a bay.
“Huh. Wonder what that is.” You walk over to the car where Daichi and Takinoue are, truck driver taking his leave and getting back into the rollback.
“So, I didn’t catch all that,” Takinoue scratches his head, eyeing the car left in front of him.
Daichi relays the information the truck driver gave him on the vehicle, “Apparently some guy changed his own oil, but didn’t do something right and oil leaked out of it. So they had it towed here.”
Takinoue’s eyebrows scrunch with concern, “Well, I hope not all of it did.”
“I’ll leave it to you two,” Daichi claps his hands together, turning back to the van he had abandoned in his bay.
Really just one of you could handle this job, but you’re both too curious to not take it on. Daichi and Ryuunosuke can surely handle the other cars even though Noya is long gone.
Good news is the engine wasn’t done for at the hands of oil starvation. Seems the owner caught the oil leak quickly and only lost a quart or two; still not great but won’t kill an engine like no oil would. And it’s an added bonus for both parties when Takinoue finds the problem to be from a double gasket on the oil filter preventing a seal. Not a good thing to find, but an easy enough fix.
Before you know it, four o’clock rolls around and you're heading home.
“Hey Tori!” Back home you’re greeted by the sight of your german shepherd snoozing on the sofa. “Aww..”
You call out as you trot through your home, “I’m just stopping in. Finally finishing up the carbon fiber stuff in a bit!”
No reply and you come up empty handed at your quick search of the place, finding that you are talking to no one but yourself. Searching your closet for something comfortable and safe to get dirty, you head for the shower to degrease from a busy day.
Exiting the bathroom in fresh clothes you hear something from behind Satori’s door. Maybe he is home after all. You start to holler your departure when another sound stops you.
Ah. Not just Satori.
“I think that’s my que,” you tell Indigo, scratching his head before taking your leave. He’s still in the same spot, just awake now. “Sorry, buddy. See ya.”
With autumn in full swing, the days seem to turn dark earlier and earlier. So when you pull up in front of your preferred garage door, the light shining from the small windows on the doors is a sharp contrast to the dark of night. You didn’t notice any cars while pulling in, so you’re not sure who could be in there or if someone just forgot to turn out the lights.
So instead of just letting yourself in as you normally do, you peer through a window, spotting a trashed mid-90’s Skyline immediately. You bang loudly on the door to get his attention.
>> To Kyou: “im here whenever you’re ready :)”
>> To Kyou: “looks like ryuu stayed after work so no rush okay?”
Soon the door raises, revealing a perplexed Ryuunosuke. “What’re you doin’ here?”
“I could ask you the same.” You slap the hood of your WRX with a grin. “It’s time I get that hood out of the back room.”
“I’m just giving ‘er the love she deserves.” He steps out of the way, waving you to pull into the garage. The R33 has been a project of Ryuu’s for awhile now, and while it now runs, it still doesn’t look like it could. Whoever had the thing last really did a number on it.
No lift is needed today for your car, but this is definitely better than swapping out your hood and wing in the parking lot of your apartment complex. Here you have a more comfortable environment without the risk of gawking eyes on you and the extra pair of hands that should be joining you shortly.
Tanaka being here was not expected. You’re positive he would help you out with your little project of the night, but you had already asked Kyoutani to help, and as with anything you ever ask of him, he had no complaints about the request.
But, Kyoutani isn’t here yet and Ryuunosuke only complains a little when you have him help you get the new, large carbon fiber items for the ol’ WRX out of the back room and into the garage. Once he helps you unwrap everything, he’s back to crawling under his car.
You check your measurements to confirm if the new wing would just bolt on or if you would need to drill new holes. The hood you know will just bolt straight on, so you don’t worry about that. You’re finishing any prep work, including removing the old STI wing, by the time you hear that distinct rumble of a boxer engine right outside. One glance out the bay door you left open for Kyoutani, and a dark green third gen WRX STI is clearly visible as it backs into a parking space straight across from where you stand.
“Is someone else here?”
You look Ryuunosuke’s way at the question, leaning your shoulder against a concrete wall with your back turned to outside. “Yeah, Kyoutani’s gonna help me.”
“Kyoutani, huh..”
Something brushes against you and you startle, but a greeting from a familiar voice has you calming down quickly. You fall back into the man behind you, a grin dancing on your face. “Hey.”
Kyoutani nods to the man under the Skyline, “That Ryuu?”
“Tanaka,” he corrects, poking his head out from under his car. “Y/n said you went to Seijoh. Played volleyball.” He looks Kyoutani over inquisitively. “I think I remember you.”
“He played for Karasuno. Crows.” You tell Kyoutani, waving your arms to mimic wings on the way to your car. “So, I got started.”
“I see.”
“I don't know if I should just go ahead and unbolt the hood and just get these out of the way or just go for the wing.” You kick at a box with a couple of dark pieces in it. “I’m trying not to damage the old parts much. Might keep ‘em. Or sell them. I don’t know yet.”
“What if you put them in these boxes then?” Kyoutani picks up part of the new wing, examining it.
“Mm, might work for the hood, but not the big wang.” You cross your arms. Where are you putting the old parts anyway? The thought hadn’t crossed your mind. “Maybe I’ll just wrap it up. Probably should have thought about this beforehand.”
“Surely there’s plenty left from this. Looks like they packed it well, I don’t see any chips or anything,” Kyoutani says, already unwrapping the new wing and eyeing the main part closely.
“Yeah, I was pleasantly surprised.” You move the remaining pieces of the carbon fiber wing and pull a large amount of wrap from the box, tossing it over the white STI wing laying on the ground. “Yeah, that should work.”
Ignoring the mild cursing coming from under the other car, you smile at the man before you. “Ready to get to work?”
With the two of you, it doesn’t take no time to install the new wing. The GT style wing really did give the rear of your car a meaner look, especially with the diffuser with its aggressive fins sticking out from under the bumper - just as you had imagined.
“Really does give it a whole other look, huh?” Your eyes trace the lines of the new wing and down the rear, admiring your vision becoming a reality.
“New tire?” He pulls you from your trance.
“Ugh, yeah.” Your brows scrunch together at the reminder of your discovery earlier. While Kyoutani was nice enough to swap out the flat tire for your donut, you never bothered to look at it until it was on the tire machine. That was when you found the cause of the flat. There was no screw or nail that you might have run over; instead, there was a slash in the sidewall, like a blade was stabbed into it. “The old one wasn’t fixable.”
Stepping away from the Subaru, Kyoutani helps you wrap up the old wing for storage before starting on the hood. There’s not much to installing it, but the bulky piece is too difficult for just one person to maneuver; at least not without risking damages to the hood or car. Even so, you still end up dancing around each other awkwardly even before one side nearly slips from your hands, just catching it before it hits the windshield.
“Oh god, that could have been bad.” You laugh nervously.
“You good?” He asks, waiting for you to readjust your side of the hood so he could go back to trying to bolt it into place.
Luckily for you, Tanaka has wandered off somewhere, missing your near disaster. Something you know he would laugh at you for. Rather, you just have Kyoutani here, not making a peep other than displaying some minor form of concern the average person would miss.
With the hood attached, all that’s left is rigging up the washer nozzles so they will actually work. You swing around to Kyoutani’s side of the vehicle to work on getting those hooked up, unintentionally press into his side as you lean over your car. The sudden heat that washes over you is embarrassing.
So, this is fine.
With only a small amount of muttering to yourself, you get the hoses in place and ready to test. Though it’s hard to move with the comfortable warmth spreading from the body beside you to where your hip meets his.
It's fine.
A little more fidgeting around as an excuse to stay put just a little longer and you finally push off the car and from Kyoutani’s side to close the hood and hang through the window to test the nozzles. “You might wanna watch out unless you want sprayed too.”
So why can’t you help the way you feel around him? How you brighten at any little text from him or anytime the two of you cross paths, expectedly or not. How you refuse to admit you miss the feeling of his soft lips on your neck.
“Looks like it works to me,” he comments when washer fluid sprays across the windshield followed by wiper blades flinging the fluid off.
“Mhmm.” You give the car another quick run around, admiring the finished product. “Thank you so much for me helping out.”
“Sure thing.” He follows when you find yourself a seat against a wall where you sit smiling at the white and carbon fiber WRX.
“I do appreciate it.”
You’re friends.
“Well, you needed someone to help. Otherwise, how many pieces would your windshield be in?”
You feign insult at the taunt. “Tanaka is here! He coulda helped.”
“Yo, I’m fixing my own shit,” your friend calls from where he’s elbow deep in his engine bay.
He knows you too well already. He’s aware of your impulsiveness, the way you can get set on doing things. “And you didn’t plan on him being here, and you already had it in your head for tonight. Which means one way or another you would do it. You’re stubborn like that.”
Friends that-
He leans his head on your shoulder, slouched back against the wall, and without thinking your lips meet his crown, planting a light kiss on his head. Your eyes instantly shoot wide when you catch yourself too late.
“Did you just kiss me?” He quietly asks with genuine curiosity.
“..No?” You might as well face it, there’s no saving this one. “Maybe.”
When you turn your head to see what Ryuu is doing now since he last returned, as well as hide your face from a certain blond, Kyoutani sneaks a light peck to your jaw. You don’t even register what Ryuusuke is occupied with, too flustered to notice much else.
Yet, Kyoutani goes on to stare at your car without a care in the world, as if that tiny little moment never happened. “It looks fucking sweet.”
“Thanks,” you’re still taken aback by his response, the very opposite of the backlash you were afraid you’d receive. “Uh, I’m probably not gonna stick around. Unless you wanna sit in this chilly garage on concrete, then by all means.”
“Nah, I’m tempted to warm up in my car. Shoulda worn my coat, I guess.” You lean back to check out his attire. It slipped past you before, but he isn’t wearing his usual leather jacket. Instead there’s an unbuttoned flannel, the dark grey plaid mostly hiding his black tee with some graphic you can’t make out from this angle.
“Mm, shall we go somewhere warm then?”
“You don’t want to drive around and show off your work?”
“Oh, I always want to drive it.” You giggle. Not everyone loves driving. Not everyone cares to be in their vehicle for any longer than necessary, simply a device for traveling from point A to point B. Others on the other hand, people like you, thoroughly enjoy it. You love being in your car, the freedom you feel as you open her up on the freeway, the excitement in hearing the engine roar or the rush of just sending it. You’ll make an excuse to go for a drive any chance you get.
“I might know an Insta worthy place with a decent drive that’s also not too far off,” he says, standing and offering you a hand.
“Know me so well. Text me where and I’ll meet you? Gonna pick up first. Won’t be long,” you say, waving the wrench you just picked up. You can’t leave the place a mess when Keishin is nice enough to let you use it freely. It will only take a few minutes anyway and you’re curious about Ryuu’s project.
With your farewells and promise of seeing each other soon enough, you head back to the garage and poke your head into Ryuu’s car to see what he’s doing in it. “You’re not done yet?”
“I like to take my time on my own time. Do a little here, get distracted by a video there. Ya know.” He rests reclined in the passenger seat with his phone in hand, obnoxious noises from a video sounding from it.
You chuckle at your childhood friend. You love his chilled out way of doing things, but you can’t help but be completely engulfed by whatever has captured your attention. Much like today’s project. “Yeah, yeah. So, like, where you at on this then, huh?”
He goes into detail, sharing what he’s recently done to the car and what’s left for tonight. You listen nearby as you pick up your work space so that you can prepare to meet with Kyoutani once more.
With the old parts stored away in the back room for Keishin to bitch at you for later and the last tool returned to its rightful place, you pace in front of your driver’s door, thoughts of the blond plaguing your mind. “Could he like me? No, no! He couldn't. Shut up! What am I saying?”
“Dude, are you serious right now? Did I not just see all that lovey-dovey shit?” He gags.
“Ugh, that means nothing.” You lean against his car, frustrated by how you can’t just drop the thought.
“Really? So if I just,” he leans out of the passenger window to dramatically nuzzle your side, “that's not weird?”
“I hate you.” No you don’t.
“But you’re not gonna bang the boss man anymore then, right?”
You groan at the reminder of him finding out about the last little sleepover you had with Keishin, “What? We’re just friends.”
“Yeah, and me and Kiyoko are just friends.”
“Aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but not if I could help it,” his frown is short lived when he looks out to where Kyoutani’s car was. “But really. Something tells me the feeling‘s mutual.”
You squint at that. What’s that supposed to mean? He’s barely seen Kyoutani, much less talked to him. “Well. I think I’m going to head out. You good?”
“Yeah. You gonna go hang out with your not-a-boyfriend?”
You roll your eyes with a scoff. “Nothing gets past you today, huh? How unlike you.”
“Hey!”
“Yeah, he helped me, now I’m going to chill with him,” you state, moving from his car to yours.
“Uh huh. Netflix and chill?”
“Ugh! No,” you say, accidentally slamming the door behind you in the process. “Oops..”
Kyoutani wasn’t wrong. The place was ideal for a photo shoot if you’re looking for an industrial vibe. An old lot with old buildings overlooking blue waters, broken down wire fencing, cracked pavement, the whole nine yards. After snapping several photos and picking your favorites to share online, you climb onto your trunk and slide your legs under the high wing. A classic tabletop pose for one last photo.
Making grabby hands is all it takes to get Kyoutani to stand between your knees, placing his arms on the table top to rest his head, eyelids drooping heavily.
You press a finger to his nose. “Mm, you sleepy? You should have gone home if you were tired.”
“Nah,” he nuzzles further into his arms and wiggles closer to you. Is his voice muffled by the flannel or is he just talking that quiet, you’re not sure, “I just wanted to see you.”
You hum, questioning if he’s about to fall asleep. “You did? Back at the garage?”
“No, like,” he pulls his face away, dark lined eyes searching yours, “Practice starts this week. I won’t get to see you as much during pre-season.”
Ah, right. You’re all too familiar with pro volleyball scheduling at this point, between Kogane and Wakatoshi. You know he’s going to have long days with demanding physical activity, and when he’s not with the Frogs, he will likely be getting all the rest he can get.
He must notice the frown you didn’t mean to show. “Okay?“
“No, yeah. I know. Kanji’s been on your team for a couple years now, I know how it is. At least availability wise.” Your hands grasp the edges of his flannel, tempted to pull him close again and share your warmth. Or maybe into a car, that might be more efficient. He has to be cold, and you’ll take any excuse to keep him here a little while longer. “Text me some, if you get the chance.” Subconsciously your knees press into his sides as if trying to ground him here, or maybe yourself. “Take care of yourself.”
“Of course.” He brings the back of one hand to your cheek, testing the temperature and grazing your soft skin. “You’re freezing.”
You jolt at the ice cold sensation from his hands. “You’re the one without a coat.”
“It’s too pretty out here to care. I’m not bothered by it.” He’s yet to really take in the environment. The grass growing through the pavement, the broken window of the abandoned warehouse behind you, or the rusty fence. While it is a cool location - great for grabbing some photos - it isn’t exactly pretty here.
Scanning the pitch black sky and glittering lights dancing through it, you think there might be one pretty thing out here.
Gaze still set in the stars, you slide a hand to his. The smallest of smiles graces your lips when he accepts the silent request, intertwining pinkies with you. “Wanna go cause some trouble? I’m sure our cars are loud as shit together.“
“It really is cold out here.” He helps you climb down from your car, trying to help you avoid scratching it. “Some pulls then?”
So, this is what happens when my fiancé falls asleep while I drive, I come up with stupid ideas...
Special thanks to @middleearthpixie, @kibleedibleedoo, @linasofia and @xxbyimm for brainstorming this ludicrous idea...
So here goes: Original Thorin with very young nephews in a modern setting...Chaos ensues...
Words : 2,5 k
Warnings: Blood, a bit of cursing, a slice of nudity
Anne remembered the big storm a few months past, but never in a million years would she have expected things to change in ways so unforeseen and – honestly – distressing as they had.
Soon after the storm – that had looked like the whole world was about to crumble – Blue Mountains flats, a large complex extending over a whole block, had welcomed new lodgers. They were weird to say the least and Anne, who spent most of her free time indoors or in the swimming pool that was part of the extensive grounds of the complex, couldn’t deny that she had wasted more thoughts than strictly necessary on those new residents.
Especially the one having moved into the duplex just across the landing from her; a grumpy fellow whose name was penned down – in a weirdly angular handwriting – as “Thorin”. No last names, no “Welcome”-mat in front of the door, just “Thorin”.
Well, “Just Thorin” was a surprisingly stout man, in his thirties as far as Anne could make out, with piercing eyes and absurdly long hair…and she had a minor crush on him. For days, she had worn her best clothes every time she left the flat in hopes to meet him in the hallway or in the carpark, but this far, she had only caught fleeting glimpses of him walking around moodily in the small park, his hands buried in the pockets of a strange-looking coat.
It looked like a bathrobe if she was honest. Maybe, he was mentally unstable?
That would definitely explain the trudging around at all hours of the day with no clear destination in sight.
She had also taken to wearing the expensive negligées her mother had given her for Christmas – on account of her being on the best way to becoming a spinster – just in case her neighbour needed a cup of sugar in the middle of the night.
He, of course, had never once knocked on her door this far – for sugar or any other kind of sweets – but hope was a stubborn weed.
Tonight though, she had seen the gorgeous woman from downstairs, younger than him but so alike in her features and complexion that she could only be kin, bring up the two rowdy boys she called her own. Anne had absolutely not pressed her ear to the door of her flat to hear the joyous squeals of “uncle” and of “cake” resounding loudly before a door was slammed shut. She was not a creep; if she had overheard those cries, it had merely been because she had felt the overwhelming urge to sort out her winter boots in July, and they so happened to be in her closet just next to said main door.
Really, she couldn’t help eavesdropping and either way, the hallway was a common space and whatever happened there was bound to be witnessed by the other lodgers.
Well, at least, she had not looked through the spyhole just to see her gorgeous neighbour in his strangely outdated pants. The word that sprang to mind was “breeches”. Oh, Anne really should stop watching that much telly and go out more, maybe then, she wouldn’t have to stalk her own neighbour like a common pervert.
The lady left after a few minutes and Anne, now rearranging her winter coats according to colour, heard her say insistently: “You take care of them Thorin or else…”
That had been a threat if ever Anne had heard one.
Well, the boys were precious of course. They were just as illogically strong looking as their uncle despite them being definitely children; the youngest was a cuddly, round-cheeked cherub with dark locks that usually looked as if someone had tried to bind them neatly before the child had crawled through the hedgerow while the older one of the boys looked like he could convince the devil himself to sing a hymn in church if he said “pretty please” with those huge blue eyes under a golden crown of locks.
With a sigh, Anne had to admit that she took too much of an interest in the newcomers by far, but she encountered the mother and the boys more often than she managed to catch the ever-frowning example of pure male beauty living just a few feet away from her.
Not tonight, Anne thought, a smile creeping onto her face as she imagined him trying to occupy the two boys who had – despite it being 7 o’clock in the evening already – not looked tired in the least.
With another long exhalation, she slipped into her comfy sleep shorts, unclasped her bra, and shrugged into the matching top. She had gained some weight over the last few years and the worn pyjama was taut over her chest, but she loved the bunnies and goats having a tea party printed on it.
Spinsters were allowed to wear whatever they wanted to bed, she told herself petulantly, and turned to her trusty companion, the TV, while biting into the stale sandwich she had found in her fridge. It couldn’t be that old – at least she hoped it wasn’t – and she was too lazy to go out and fetch something else.
She must have drifted off to sleep at some point, because the frantic ringing of the doorbell made her jump up on the couch. Who the hell would be ringing her doorbell at this hour?
A quick glance on her – almost empty – phone told her that it was past midnight. Wearily, she crept along the corridor without turning on the light.
Again, a frantic peal of ringing resounded, much too loud in the ambient silence and she was tempted to scream: “I am not home”, but that would have defeated the purpose.
This time, she did look through the peephole and gasped. It was…Thorin. And, judging from his shoulders, he was not wearing a shirt. To her utter shame, in hindsight, she immediately opened the door, only to look down on a whimpering kid.
Ah, that was where the shirt had gone then, Anne thought, distracted by the blood slowly dripping onto her own doormat.
“Woman!” He roared as if she was deaf. “I need your transport box. The…” He gestured into the hallway.
“My what? What has happened? Why don’t you call an ambulance?” She asked, aghast that he was lugging around an injured child while another one clung to his muscular thigh.
“The thing that moves you. I have seen you. It is black!” He yelled. “I am not deaf, lower your voice, my car you mean? Here!” Anne handed him the keys that hung just next to the door, for otherwise she’d never find them herself.
“No, I don’t need a key. I need the box. I need you to…put us in there and take us to a healer.” He had, mercifully, stopped screaming at her, but he apparently had no idea what a car was or how to drive one.
“What has happened?” She asked again, for she did not feel inclined to drive a potential child abuser across town.
“Deathless.” He simply stated and now, it was Anne’s turn to be confused. “What is a Deathless? And how does that explain all the blood?” She asked pointedly. “We have no time for that, woman! Will you help me?”
Oh, she was more than willing to help him and so, she slipped into the winter boots that still stared at her accusingly, took her keys and led them to the lift. “We take the stairs.” He grumbled.
Ah, okay, he was a health-nut, Anne thought, that explained why she could preen in the lift as much as she wanted and never once meet him. “The kid is injured; I think we can take the lift.” She contradicted.
All of them were wide-eyed and – hadn’t she known better – she would have almost believed that they were afraid of the contraption. When she led them to her black SUV, they seemed to sigh in relief.
“Get in!” She invited but none of them moved.
“Jesus Christ!” She cursed, opened the doors for them and put the seatbelt on the older one of the boys. She had no booster seat, for she was childless, and so she could only hope that he would not fly through the windshield the first time she braked.
“I am Fíli.” He declared proudly, extending a pudgy hand to her, and flashing her a sunny smile from which a few teeth were missing. “Hello Fíli. I am Anne.” She replied quickly while already sliding into the driver’s seat.
“So, tell me, what is a Deathless?” She had thought of drugs, but drugs generally didn’t make young boys bleed.
“It’s a sword.” Thorin replied through gritted teeth, both his hands, white-knuckled, cramped around the grab handles of the car. “A sword? You let children play with swords?” Anne shot him an incredulous glance.
“Look at the other boxes.” He went back to screaming at her, his eyes bulging out of his head and his face growing deadly pale. The boy, cradled on his lap, went on bleeding all over his chest, leaving big, angry smears on the broad expanse of rippling muscle.
He was right, she should focus on the street, Anne chastised herself as she pushed down the direction indicator to leave the cul-de-sac her complex was in. “The box is broken, it’s ticking!” Thorin yelled as if the car was about to explode around them.
“Don’t be ridiculous! Darling, can you put pressure on that wound? Like so!” Anne closed her hand around the tiny one swaddled in a shirt that felt a lot like rough-spun linen to her, deciding to ignore the grunting and groaning adult. “I’m Kíli.” The boy, his dark eyes swimming in tears, mumbled bravely. How polite they were!
“Hello Kíli, I am Anne. Press against it with your other hand. Good boy.” When she brought her hand back to the steering wheel, it was wet and sticky with blood. She took a deep breath; her car smelled like the little aroma diffuser that had fallen down and rolled somewhere on the floor, but there was also the metallic tang of blood and the musky aroma of…unclad armpits.
This was not the moment, she had to reason with herself yet again, but that man smelled incredibly good; there was a soft, woody note that was surprisingly warm for someone with such cold, unforgiving eyes.
“WOMAN!” Thorin screeched when she arrived at a crossroad. “Why have we stopped moving? Why are we angled like that? Why don’t we go on?” He motioned into the direction of the ongoing road.
“Because that is not where the hospital is?” Anne was confused. “Mistress Enna…This seems very dangerous to me.” He grumbled. “That is the wrong direction, also, that is not my name!” Anne’s voice was toneless with shock.
What had she gotten herself into?
“A crossroad seems dangerous to you, but you let children play with a literal sword? What are you? MAD?” She groused under her breath. “They have to learn sooner or later, but yes, that was a bad idea. I only left them alone for one second.” He sounded very tired all of a sudden. “Dís will have my head for this.” He sighed.
The mention of his mother excited the older boy as well who now whined: “It was not my fault, I was not even in the room, I swear. It’s all Kí’s doing!”
“How long do we have to rest here? Go ahead! Walk on!” Thorin roared, kicking the floor of the car as if that made it move. In the rear-view mirror, Anne could see Fíli’s lip wobble as he – finally – had the time to process what had happened.
“Stop stomping the car, that’s not how it works.” Anne reprimanded Thorin as softly as she could while keeping an eye on the oncoming traffic. “Will Kí die?” The boy in the backseat asked tearily.
“I am going to die?” The tiny bundle of blood and tears started wailing loudly. “No, you’re not going to die. Nobody is going to die.” Anne tried to calm the situation, but they started getting on her nerves and so, she threw herself in a reckless manoeuvre, shooting out of her spot and across the street.
Other cars were honking furiously and Thorin clutched the boy as if they were about to be hurled down a cliff.
“What are you doing?” He asked hoarsely, breathless with fright.
“Oh, shut up!” She muttered; as beautiful as he was, he was an utter blockhead she was sorry to recognise.
A new sense of urgency pervaded the space as Kíli grew suspiciously quiet, maybe, he was just exhausted from the pain and the excitement and maybe, the blood loss was getting to him. Anne swerved around corners and flew down straight stretches, no longer caring for a potential police control or insidious radar speedometers.
The welfare of the kid was her only focus in this second and she even managed to block out Thorin’s inane screams of “Woman” and “Heed the other boxes”. He seemed convinced that every single other car on the road had but one goal: to collide head-on with hers as if they were mountain goats in rut wanting to challenge a rival.
Finally, after what felt like hours, the lights of the hospital came into view, and she didn’t even brake before entering the parking lot which made all of her passengers bob up and down in their seats as they had – what else did she expect? – not braced for the slight bump of the pavement being breached.
“Out with you!” Anne sighed. “Are you not coming?” Thorin looked up, surprised, as if screaming at someone for minutes on end was not a reasonable motive for leaving him stranded with two small boys in the middle of the night.
It wasn’t.
Resigned, Anne trudged behind them, in her dumb pyjamas, into the emergency room.
“Sir…oh, no, what has happened? Are you the mother?” The nurse looked at her punitively. “I am an innocent bystander!” Anne defended herself; she hated the fact that Thorin could show up here bare-chested and she was the one being judged for bringing in an injured child.
“He’s my nephew.” Thorin said quickly, lifting the other boy into his arms as the nurse took Kíli away with a curt nod.
It didn’t take 3 minutes for another nurse to appear with a blanket for Thorin, a shame really, for now Anne had the time to really look at the dark hair powdering his pectorals and the tattoo adorning the bulging muscles of his shapely arms.
“Anne? Will Kí be okay?” Fíli rubbed his eyes, tired, and let his head fall against his uncle’s shoulder.
“I’m sure he will.” She reassured him and gave his back a little pat. “Thanks for bringing us here…and for not killing us in the process.” Thorin nodded gravely and Anne was almost ready to forgive him on the spot, if only he’d take off that silly blanket again.
Also, nobody had brought her a blanket even though she was standing here with naked legs and no bra on under her flimsy top. “Sit down, Mistress Enna, can you take the boy?” Thorin guided her to a low bench and settled the – by now soundly sleeping – Fíli onto her lap. “Here you go.” He spread the blanket over the two of them and tucked it into her top at the back.
His hands on her naked skin made her shiver and, just like that, he was forgiven.
Hi we received an ask that I may have accidentally deleted so for the asker looking for Fast and the Furious related fics this is the post! 😅
There’s not exactly a huge selection, so buckle in 😉
There is exactly one abandoned fic called The Fast, Ths Furious, and the Firecrotch but it was abandoned at only 3,000 words sadly.
Drive Ian ends up mixed up with the wrong organized crime involved guy (WIP)
Move like you stole it Mickey’s on a job for Jimmysteve but high speed chases get him a little excited
Manager’s Special Ian needs his car fix and every garage in town is trying to rip him off.
That Boy is a Goddamn Problem This is techically more mob like than F&F but it has a handful of scenes involving fast car chases and what I know about the movie series.
