Okay I had another one hit me. Yes I know I have unfinished ones, and blame the blockage monster - and a few real world blockages - at least the creative juices are flowing in some direction.
Summary: We all know that the most successful hunters, serial killers, and psychopaths hide in plain sight, successfully blending in with normal society. Logically, Sabretooth should follow that trend. I've written him in a normal environment before, but not like this. 25 years after Origins, Origins Sabretooth/Victor CreedXOC. (Yes that puts him 'working' during X1, I am assuming the events of X1 took place over spring break, and that Creed has some control of how to alter his appearance so he is not 'recognized' in his 'day job.')
Disclaimer: I don't own them, no really I don't. I swear I make nothing off of this except the satisfaction to get some sick stuff out of my head safely. Again typed on the Blackberry so forgive any typos
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He groaned and hit the punching bag again. He wished she'd finish her shower or whatever had her touching the back of her neck. He was exercising all his self restraint not to return the favor and drive her insane. He'd been hard off and on all day, as something brushed against her neck, and he knew he was going to either have to put his foot down about her wardrobe or her hair...but he like her long hair, it gave him something to grab. His dreams had been full of erotic images of her body in different positions, as he satisfied himself as he'd only been able to do a few times in his life. He took another swing at the bag.
This time she brought him to his knees and he moaned, grateful there was no one in the apartment to hear him sound so frail. He took what he wanted, when he wanted, he'd never been so frustrated in his life. He could feel something kneading her shoulder right in his groin. It felt like one of the best hand jobs he'd ever had, except is stopped before he could finish. Why the hell was she gripping the back of her neck so tightly at five o'clock in the afternoon. He knew she had no idea what it was doing to him, and when he got the chance he was going to make her pay for the humiliation and frustration.
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She glared at the overdone pot roast on her plate. The vegetables were limp and she knew he'd cooked it in the cock pot all night.
"Katherine you should eat." Her dad was sitting at the other end of the table.
"I'm really not hungry." She could feel her stomach rumbling against the lie, pot roast used to be one of her favorite meals, but she'd give anything right now to have a nice thick rare steak. She'd managed some underdone bacon and scrambled eggs at the cafeteria this morning, but she was still hungry.
"Your roommate hasn't talked you into one of those dangerous diets, has she." She could feel his glare down the table. "No that you couldn't stand to lose a few pounds, but you've always had a healthy appetite for a girl."
She cringed and ran her hand up to the back of her neck. She didn't know why touching the scar made her feel safe at her weekly torture session. She also couldn't explain why it made her think of Professor Creed. It wasn't like her dreams had been about what she considered normal sex. No lovemaking, just pure lust and raw energy.
"Is there something wrong with your neck?" Shit, he'd noticed, she blushed.
"I've been studying all week for mid terms, it's just a crick." She picked up her fork and pushed some vegetables around.
"Of course, I forget, you take after your mother, she always had to study. It was a good thing I met her, she never would have finished college anyway. I expect better from you, just because you're not a man doesn't mean you can't succeed if you apply yourself." She could feel the muscles between her shoulders winding so tight she felt like they'd snap.
"I suppose you had to study for that animal's class." He never referred to Professor Creed by name, not at home. She felt a surge of anger like she'd never felt before. He wasn't an animal. He was like her, and she sure as HELL wasn't an animal.
"Yes." She hoped he didn't hear the anger in her voice and would drop it.
"I told you not to take that class. You could have taken Johnson's class instead, he wouldn't have been hard on you. That animal hates me and I wouldn't put it past him to be harder on you because of it. If he gives you any problems I'll deal with him. I've been looking for a way to get rid of him for years."
"It's fine dad, really." She pushed the food around on her plate and took a few half hearted bites.
"You should have taken Johnson's class. He's an up and coming physicist and you could do worse than his personal attention." Yeah right, she thought, and his roaming hands. He'd tried to get her to sleep with him for a C last semester. The only thing that stopped him was she'd threatened to turn him into the Board of Regents for sexual harassment.
"Spring break is next week. I am planning my usual department barbeque. I already have the caterer lined up, but I expect you to be here, and get rid of this mutant nonsense I've been hearing rumors about. No child of mine is going to be a mutant." He slammed his fork down on the table in emphasis. " I will expect you here on Monday to start cleaning. There will be no mistakes like last year." She'd missed the tiny window in the master bathroom, no one had seen it but he wasn't going to let her live it down. "Johnson will be here, and I expect you to act like a lady with him." She hid the snort of disgust by pretending to choke on a piece of food. He glared at her, and she took a quick drink of water. He glared even harder at the claws on the ends of her fingers.
"I'll be here, Dad, but I can't exactly hide..." She started.
"You WILL hide this oddity, and you will play hostess again this year. Why your mother had to get sick and die on me I will never understand. You may be useless to follow in my footsteps, being just a girl, I can't expect any less I suppose; but you will follow in hers, am I understood."
"Yes, Dad." She was starting to hate that word, and she gripped her neck in a vice grip, her claw tips almost piercing the skin.
"If you are finished I expect the dishes clean before you leave, I will be in my study, stop by before you leave, I have your allowance check for the week." She just nodded as he flung his napkin on the table and stormed off. Twenty-two years old and she still had to get an allowance check from her dad. She wiped the tear from her eye and picked up her plate and glass to take to the kitchen.
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This time he dropped onto his hands and knees. He groaned and grabbed his crotch. He was going to kill her, what was she doing getting a damned Swedish Massage by a body builder named Hanse. It felt like his groin was gripped in a vice. The frustration he could handle, fight it off. A casual touch could be ignored, but this was pain like ha hadn't felt in years, hell as long as he could remember. It let up suddenly and he snarled as he caught a glimpse of himself in his workout room mirror, curled on the floor like some frail who'd been kicked in the groin.
He pulled himself to his feet and grabbed his sweat shirt. He was going for a jog and if he happened to run into a student of his and happened to rip her to bloody shreds, well that was the price the university paid to have Sabretooth as a math professor.
He saw her walking out of Dean Gracefield's house and she looked like she was in worse shape than he was. Her face, especially her lips, were pale, her hair damp and her shoulders were slumped in defeat. He ducked into an alley, out of sight of the house, and waited. He wanted to know what was wrong.
He smelled the tears and let out a small growl. If there was one thing he hated on earth it was a crying frail. He heard her stop, then walk straight to where he was hiding. He reared up to his full height, ready to give her hell for the torture she'd put him through when he heard her steps pick up and she ran around the corner and slammed right into his chest.
Her arms wrapped around his waist and before he realized what happened he had her wrapped in his arms, patting her back, trying to make sense of what she was mumbling through her sobs.
"...not useless, I can't fucking help that I was born a dammed girl. What did he mean I could use to lose a few pounds? I'm a God damned adult able to drink and smoke and vote and I still have to wait on him to give me an allowance." Her hands were balled into the back of his shirt, her face pressed against his chest and the strangest sound was coming from his throat.
He remembered that sound, barely. He used to lull Jimmy to sleep with it when he was sick as a kid. He was fucking purring. That did it.
"What the hell are you blubbering on about?" He grabbed her upper arms and shook her until she looked up at him.
"I hate him." She hissed, spitting like a pissed off kitten.
"Who?"
"My dad."
He shook her again for good measure.
"He said those things to you?"
"Yes, it was a normal Sunday dinner." She wiped her eyes on her sleeves.
"You're not going back there." He growled.
"I have to, I have to get the spring cleaning done and be hostess for his department barbeque next week."
"Like hell, you're going with me next week."
"I can't..." She started.
"Like hell you can't. After your midterm you better be packed. I'm taking you someplace that can explain some of the shit even I don't know about your mutation."
"But..."
"No buts, if you're not packed after the test you're going in what you're wearing and can buy a toothbrush when we get there." He turned around and stormed off. He threw back over his shoulder. "You don't belong to him anymore, get that through your head...and if you lose any weight I'll tie you down and force feed you, I like meat on my frails."
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She just stared at his retreating back. She shook her head and walked back to her usual route to the dorms. She was halfway home when she realized she was smiling.