#Trying to practice with writing and attempted to make it more of a decent size

[littlemisspascal]

Anytime, Anyplace, Anywhere

pairing: modern-ish Pero x Female Reader

summary: In which Reader is a newspaper columnist with few self-preservation instincts, Statesman is an insurance company with a catchy jingle, and Pero is the insurance agent assigned to look after you. Except only two outta three of these statements are true.

word count: 3k+

rating: T

warnings: Reader is nameless with no description except for being shorter than Pero, language, blood, violence, guns, non-major character death, Author’s poor attempt at humor, Author knows nothing about insurance and/or a career in journalism, mistaken identity, supernatural elements, worldbuilding

author note: this is what happens when I watch Puss in Boots The Last Wish and then a Statefarm commercial and then random inspiration sparks. It’s borderline a crack fic, but hey, sometimes that’s what the muse wants. I even have more scenes outlined beyond this so...Hopefully someone out there enjoys this 😊 

The story of how you wound up in Wader’s Rest is a rather boring chain of events that can be summed up as follows: you graduate with a journalism degree, spend the next five years trying and failing to convince a major news outlet to hire you all the while typing up fluff pieces for your hometown’s website so you can afford food and other necessities, receive a job offer out of the fucking blue offering you a columnist job in a town hundreds of miles away, decide screw it let’s go and…yeah, that’s about it. For these last six months, Wader's Rest has been your new home.

Wader's Rest is a medium-sized-ish community settled along the southern coastline, perpetually smelling of freshly caught fish and sea salt. It’d be a decent tourist destination, in your opinion, if it wasn’t also a hive of criminal activity, crawling with smugglers and drug dealers and fugitives. The city can be split into two types of people: crime-doers and crime-avoiders. 

Oh, yeah, and then there’s you in a solo category of your own making: crime-seeker. Insert trumpet fanfare here.

There’s a grand total of one newspaper responsible for updating residents on all things Wader's Rest-related. Wader’s Reader has a staff of twelve working all hours of the day in an ugly brick building on the corner of Main Street, right across from a coffee shop you’re 65% sure is a front for black market antiques but it’s also the only place that doesn’t judge the ungodly amount of sugar you pour in your drink so. Until that percentage rises up to 100%, you reckon it’s alright giving them a pass in the meantime.

In a time where a quick search on your phone or computer can answer any conceivable question you have in seconds, the residents of Wader's Rest are strangely protective of their newspaper. Like, Gollum my precious! kind of protective. The most likely reason is probably because the internet access out here is so painfully slow it’s practically nonexistent, but you like to think they actually look forward to reading your column. No more writing about baking contests and music festivals, not when you’ve discovered the addictive adrenaline rush of investigating the many, many, many crimes of Wader's Rest. Nothing else gets your blood pumping as much as witnessing an illegal exchange of weapons in the back parking lot of a Wendy’s. 

So it isn’t uncommon then, to spend your nights crouched behind dumpsters (or sometimes even inside them) or picking locks or doing other shady-as-hell-if-you-had-any-other-job activities in order to gather all the facts and details you need to write the perfect piece for your loyal readers. Insert inspiring quote here like fortune favors the bold or whatever.

It also isn’t uncommon for your nights to end either in the hospital or covered in so many bandages it looks like you spent the night in the hospital. You’re on a first name basis with most of the staff, including Dr. William Garin who’s got such vibrant crystal blue eyes he could’ve been a glasses modeler in another life. Shame he’s got such overwhelming heart-eyes for your boss or you’d be severely tempted to shoot your shot.

Anyways.

See, the problem is, you’re not exactly a master of subtlety yet, and also some of your column subjects don’t always appreciate being watched like they’re zoo animals—they appreciate it even less when you point out that conducting their illegal business in creepy alleyways and abandoned warehouses doesn’t magically make them invisible. Really, any Average Joe could stroll right in and watch the proceedings.

You grunt, head banging against a cement wall so hard you see stars. A meaty fist tightens its grip on your shirt, holding you high enough the toes of your sneakers barely scuff the ground, while the owner of that fist—so massively muscular he’s more of a grizzly bear than a man—glares down at you through narrowed eyes.

Yeah, all those Average Joes really don’t know the fun they're missing out on. Concussions plus bruised, possibly cracked ribs equal exciting times

“Hey Big Mac,” you wheeze, blinking until your vision’s more or less clear and his unimpressed face swims into focus. “Did you get more muscles? You look like you got more muscles.”

If possible, his unimpressed look increases. 

Big Mac’s been a recurring foe since your first week in Wader's Rest when you went out for a midnight McDonald’s run—you have a weak spot for their McFlurries, alright?—and discovered him throwing bricks at the neighboring weed shop’s front window. Where he got the sack of bricks remains a mystery, but upon shattering the glass he was in and out in a matter of thirty seconds with an armful of edibles before disappearing into the darkness of night. You’d been so stunned by the whole ordeal not only had you forgotten to call the police, but your McFlurry had melted before you’d even tasted it.

You’ve lost count at this point how many times he’s been featured in one of your columns. Big Mac’s like a really nasty stain on a white shirt, impossible to ignore, but he’s also smooth as fucking butter, sliding out of cuffs before any charges can stick. You don’t even know the giant’s real name (don’t care to learn it either, the nicknames you hand out like free candy add some extra pizazz to the writing)—just that he likes edibles and that when he’s not breaking store windows he can usually be found working as a henchman for any one of the twenty something crime lords in the city. Apparently they don’t mind sharing lackeys so long as there’s no loose lips. Snitches wind up in ditches after all. 

Tonight you’ve interrupted a clandestine meeting in the factory district between Big Mac and a new fellow you’d decided to call Stringbean due to his lithe frame—you never claimed to be creative with your nicknaming ability. All it took was accidentally knocking over a trash can with a deafening bang and here you are, helpless as an overturned turtle, hoping you can talk your way out of this predicament with as little bloodshed as possible.

The telltale cocking of a gun immediately dampens those hopes.

Both you and Big Mac look to the sound, finding Stringbean aiming a pistol your direction. He’s a nervous-looking thing, sweat shining on his brow, and there’s few things in life as scarily unpredictable as a twitchy man with a loaded gun. 

“What are you doing,” Big Mac rumbles without any inflection in his tone.

“We agreed no witnesses,” is the breathy, slightly nasally response. Nothing about Stringbean–aside from the weapon in his hands–screams bad guy. He’s thin, bespectacled, suit too neatly pressed like it’s his Sunday best clothes. You estimate him lasting about a week before the bigger sharks gobble him up and spit out his—you squint, oh good lord—his bumblebee patterned bow tie as the only evidence of his existence. 

“Witness?” you pipe up. “Witness to what exactly? Care to shed some light–ugh!”

The rest of your sentence ends in another choked wheeze as Big Mac shoves you against the wall again. Yep, something’s definitely broken in your body now. He’s not even looking at you, the bastard, like you’re not even a worthy enough threat to keep an eye on for any devious tricks.

Instead, Big Mac says something to Stringbean, probably some kind of grumbling threat about tearing Stringbean’s head from his shoulders if he doesn’t put the gun away, but the thunderous whooshing of blood in your ears prevents you from hearing if that’s right or not. It’s a good line though, the kind of line that tempts you to sneak it into your draft and hope your boss doesn’t cross it out with that damn red pen of hers, possessing a special sixth sense for sniffing out bullshit.

Stringbean retorts something that’s also lost on you–God, you really need to invest in a tape recorder, or some sort of phone app–but whatever he says has Big Mac dropping you without warning, lunging at the smaller man like a lion after a mouse. You fall on your hands and knees with a faint yelp, gritting your teeth at the instant blooms of pain shooting along your nerve endings. It takes you a second to collect yourself, but it’s a second too long to have wasted, remembering too late how dangerous your situation is—

Bang.

A scream escapes you, cowering against the wall in a scrunched up ball. Big Mac’s lying on the ground, unmoving, a chunk of his shoulder missing and gallons of blood gushing out like a damn river. Oh shit. Oh holy fucking shit. Stringbean’s on the cusp of hyperventilating, seeming unable to process his own actions, and then those anxious, too-wide eyes lock onto you. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I’m sorry,” Stringbean says, and he actually sounds sincere. But the effect is immediately dulled when he lines up the gun directly with your face.

One would think, being mere seconds from a bullet entering your brain, that you’d have some kind of epiphany about the meaning of life. See flashes from your childhood, hear an angelic chorus, that kinda thing. The odds aren’t in your favor. There’s no healing from a headshot at this close range. You are going to die and the only stupid fucking thing you can think about is that damn catchy jingle.

Squeezing your eyes shut, words tumble out of your mouth at a frantic speed, “Anytime, anyplace, anywhere Statesman is there!”

Stringbean pulls the trigger.

—

Statesman designing a new kind of workers compensation insurance specifically catered for your risky lifestyle had been your boss’ idea. She knew the head guy of the company, some old bearded fellow straight out of a Wild West Eastwood movie called Champagne (no last name, just like Cher), pulled a couple of strings (which is probably code for glared him into submission), handed you a pen, got your signature, and boom—as of three days ago, Lin proudly informed you “You’re completely covered. Cuts, broken bones, rabid squirrel attacks, the whole shebang. Now get out of my office.”

You’d liked your old insurance and had been quite happy with their care, thank you very much. But there’s no arguing with Lin when she gets that glint in her eye like some kind of bird of prey. And besides, forcing insurance on you is a sign she cares, right? That’s what you’ll keep telling yourself anyways.

The commercials are enjoyable, you can admit that at least. Especially the ones where there’s some kind of dangerous situation involving rampaging bison or avalanches or whatnot and the agent, whose uniform includes a leather jacket and cowboy hat, swoops in to the rescue after the poor would-be victims shout out the jingle Anytime, anyplace, anywhere Statesman is there!, then teleports everyone to safety.

Entertaining? Yes. 

Realistic? Hell no.

—

There’s a high-pitched ringing in your ears, rattling around inside your skull. 

“—ime for this. Get up.”

Huh? Who’s that? 

“I don’t like repeating myself. Get. Up.”

Oh no. Eyes still shut, your hands search for a wound, for blood, patting all over your head, then your chest and torso. Nothing. Fuck, you’ve died and crossed over into the afterlife. That’s why there’s no injury or pain. Your life is over. The end. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. You can’t—

Something hard hits your leg. “You’re still alive.”

Your eyes snap open, surroundings blurring into focus. You’re in the warehouse still. Stringbean’s on the floor near Big Mac, sightless blue eyes staring back at you, a bullet hole in the middle of his forehead revealing blood and bone and brain matter. Immediately you avert your gaze, tasting bile in the back of your throat, and it’s only then you see the pair of boots by your legs.

A man stands over you, dressed in a leather jacket and jeans with soft-looking, unstyled brown hair and a stubbled jawline sharp enough to give papercuts. The words ruggedly handsome come to mind and stay there, banishing all other thoughts. Brown eyes so dark they’re verging on black stare down at you beneath furrowed brows, the perfect image of silent judgment. What the hell. He might just be the most attractive person you’ve ever seen, beating Dr. Pretty Eyes Garin by fucking leagues.

“Did you just kick me?” you ask before you can stop yourself, rising to your feet. Your head barely reaches his chest—a very broad chest, you can’t help noticing, leather straining at the shoulders to contain him—and you have to crane your head up to continue meeting his dull, half-lidded gaze.

“You weren’t listening,” says the stranger with a voice like the scrape of a butter knife on toast. Your heartbeat stutters, discovering a new favorite sound, and it takes you an embarrassingly long moment to realize you’re staring at his mouth with way more intensity than a person should look at another person’s mouth.

“Uh, yeah, well I-I thought I was dead. He was going to shoot me.” Your eyes drift towards Stringbean again, frowning at the gun in his hand. It doesn’t look like a pistol anymore, metal mangled and warped. “What the hell?”

“Backfired on him. Rare, but it happens.” He shrugs a shoulder, unconcerned, like he’s seen a thousand bloody incidents and he’s numb to the gore. And that’s…a scary thought to consider.

“Right...” You eye him a bit more critically now, taking in the scar dissecting his eyebrow. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“I didn’t throw it.”

Irritation flares, momentarily overtaking the budding apprehension. It brushes against your journalist instincts, insisting you’re missing something here. “Alright, Mr. Nameless, do you want to at least explain what exactly you’re doing here in the middle of the night?”

“Same as you. Work,” he answers curtly, glancing at his wrist where an expensive-looking watch is wrapped around the tan skin. Your fingers twitch with the urge to touch. “When I’m called, I show up. No matter the time or place.” His eyes flicker around the room with thinly veiled disgust. “Even if it means coming to shitholes like this.”

He goes where he’s called? That’s an interesting and ominous choice of phrasing. What is he, some kind of hitman or secret agent or—

Wait a minute.

Dangerous situation. Popping up out of nowhere. Wearing a leather jacket. Your life is saved despite all the odds stacked against you.

Understanding hits like one of Big Mac’s bricks, finally connecting the dots together and good lord it’s so fucking obvious you fully deserve the forehead slap you give yourself. “Holy shit the jingle actually worked.”

His scarred eyebrow lifts. “What?”

“How did I not know this was a real thing?” you half-ask, half-demand, hands settling on your hips. “You’re proof teleportation is fucking real! I feel like this is something more people should be talking about. Unless…Unless not everyone has this kind of coverage. Oh my God, is this some kind of extra health protection bundle attached to my new contract written in the fine print?” 

That stupidly attractive eyebrow lifts even higher.

“Don’t give me that look. Nobody under seventy-five reads all those tiny words, especially when the whole stack is five hundred pages front and back. All those poor trees…Also,” you point an accusing finger, “you’re missing a cowboy hat so I really can’t be blamed for not recognizing you.”

“A cowboy hat?” His face screws up at that, and somehow he makes the expression of someone who stepped in dog shit look attractive. Seriously, how is this guy even real? “I’d rather die than wear one of those.”

You stare at him, slack-jawed at his bluntness. “First of all, too soon, man, too soon. There are dead bodies literally right there. And secondly, wow,” a smidge of awe slips into your tone, “you must have some balls, rebelling against the big boss man like that.”

Oh to have been a fly on the wall seeing Champagne’s reaction to the refusal to comply with the uniform policy. You’d only met the old man for a hot second, but considering his love of westerns it wouldn’t surprise you if he challenged his opponents to quick-fire duels at high noon. Water guns or foam pellets instead of actual bullets, of course. He might gargle with bourbon and use a spittoon, but that doesn’t mean he’s a total heathen.

You snort a quiet laugh, then wince at the ache in your rib cage. Oh, yeah. There’s that fun pain again. The nameless agent turns away with what you think is an eye roll, but it’s too fast to tell, and looks down at Big Mac and Stringbean.

“I-I guess I need to call the police,” you say quietly, stomach churning when a sideways glance reveals a growing pool of blood beneath the bodies. Scary to think how close you’d been to being one of them.

“If it makes you stop talking to me, go right ahead,” your companion quips, uncaring of the scoff he gets for it. 

You find your bag by the trash can you’d hidden behind before Big Mac seized you. Bag is a generous term for the accessory that’s more duct tape than fabric after being dropped, kicked, and run over amongst other unfortunate fates. Still, it does a good job of carrying your stuff so you’ll keep on stubbornly holding onto it until the bitter end.

Pulling out your phone, you open the keypad only for the whistling notes of a song to have you freezing in place. Literally, your body feels like it’s become a block of ice, goosebumps rising along your exposed skin. As surreptitiously as you can manage, you sneak a glance at the agent, and it shouldn’t be fair how someone can look so seductive with puckered lips while whistling such an eerily haunting tune. The sheer contrast is enough to make your brain hurt.

Or maybe that’s a side effect of your skull smacking against the wall.

“Did you forget it’s three numbers?” he says abruptly, startling you, and the way he’s now looking at you gives the distinct impression he thinks you’re an idiot. “Two, technically, since one repeats itself–”

“I know what to do,” you snap defensively, turning back to your phone with a huff. Deliberately you slam your thumb against the three buttons, but find yourself hesitating to press call.

Looking up, you find the nameless agent already staring back at you. His head tilts, displaying the same confusion of a dog not understanding their owner’s behavior. It’s…almost ridiculously cute.

“Thanks for, um, being here and stuff,” you tell him, barely restraining yourself from doing something awkward like giving a thumbs up.

He blinks, a flash of something you think resembles surprise crossing his face, and then he’s back to blankness. “I had to come,” he replies.

“Well, yeah, ‘cause of the magic jingle,” you wave a flippant hand, words tumbling out faster than you can keep up with them, “but still, it’s nice, you know, having someone to watch your back, even if I don’t know who you are–”

The sound of your name has your jaw shutting with an audible click. For a second time you think about the unfairness of the situation. He has access to your file, knows your name and personal details, and what do you get to know about him? Bupkis.

“...Yes?”

“Make the phone call,” he says, an edge of amusement in his voice that produces a funny warm feeling in your stomach. Nausea, you decide, that must be it.

Grumbling under your breath, you look back to your phone and finally hit the button, listening to it ring. 

“See,” you say, purposefully smug, turning around, “I’m not an idiot–”

The man is gone. 

Didn’t even say goodbye, the ill-mannered jerk.

And as the operator picks up, asking what’s your emergency, you can’t help but think your insurance agent is a bit of an enigmatic asshole. All intimidating and sour-faced to ward off unwanted attention. Probably thrives off confusing his clients like he’s some kind of damn Rubik’s cube personified. 

Which is good for you since you thrive off of solving mysteries and inserting your nose where it doesn’t belong. You’ll know his name, his birthdate, hell, his entire history by the end of the week.

You eat Rubik’s cubes for breakfast.

[delirious-donna]

Yours [Obito Uchiha]

an: this was a request from a wattpad user, decided to pop it on here to see if it gets any love! I adored writing Obito, and would love to write more for him in the future.

pairings: Obito Uchiha x female reader

warnings: modern AU, friends to lovers, fluff, a lil angst, possessive obito, pussy eating, size kink, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie

Masterlist

Thump, thump, thump.

The heavy bass of the music beat to a staccato rhythm that matched the thump of his heart to perfection. His empty fingers twitched, the muscles pulling taut and stretching the skin until the veins became a prominent warning of his darkening mood. Why had he agreed to this? It never ended well for him...

He took another long pull on his beer, the bitter taste coating his tongue and sliding down his throat to ease the fires that were slowly spreading into every crevice of his soul, soon they would be out of control. An inferno of emotions that could, and would erupt at any moment.

His obsidian eyes blazed with their dark flames, the last of his restraint was hanging by a mere thread and he knew that when it finally snapped his eyes would shine like a crimson beacon in the dimly lit room. With jaw set, Obito watched the masses of writhing bodies.

A sea of flailing limbs that ebbed and flowed like playful waves to the pounding music. There were at least thirty people crowded on the dancefloor but his eyes were fixed on one particular body. He could care less about the young couples that ground just a little too wantonly to be decent. He had no time for the groups of pretty girls that batted their doe-like eyes at the watching males, trying to lure them in like sirens calling to doomed sailors. Nor did he care for the males that lined the edge of the space, sly smirks spread across their smug faces as they whispered likely disgusting comments about the females in their sights.

No – none of that mattered when he could watch you.

Obito had been friends with you longer than he could remember, grown-up together and practically inseparable since you were both old enough to walk and talk. The love you shared was obvious, and everyone in your friendship group knew it, but it had changed in the last two years. Now it was not the love of two friends that were bound so tightly that they could be one person, for Obito it had not been enough. He wanted you in a way he had never wanted anyone before.

He had had his fair share of girlfriends, and you had certainly attracted the attention of numerous boys over the years. None of them had been good enough for you, no one ever would be. The times he had spent enduring the company of idiotic boys that did not treat you the way you deserved, all whilst he sat there with teeth clenched and a tight grip on his knee to stop him from reaching out for their damn throats, it seemed never-ending.

There had never been a girl that was able to hold his attention long enough, no one could compare to your wickedly sharp sense of humour, the way you took none of his moody bullshit, forcing him out of his shell and into endless adventures. Obito was unsure how different he would be today if it had not been for your influence in his life.

Would he be pursuing his career in law?

Would he have joined the college swim team?

Would he ever have had the nerve to stick his head above the parapet, refusing to accept things that were ethically wrong and actively seeking to make a difference?

Now at twenty-two respectively, your friendship had become strained. No longer could he stand by the wayside as men attempted to woo you, the ever constant shoulder to cry on when things did not work out as he had known they wouldn’t. It hurt too much. Each new face that he was introduced to was simply another blade to his heart, and there soon would be no space left for another.

He knew that you felt it too – felt him pulling away. Texts went longer between replies, unanswered calls that were never returned and social events that were declined so he did not have to suffer in your presence. Obito was withdrawing into himself, locking himself away in order to protect his heart, or what was left of it.

It had been two weeks since he had last seen you, and the changes were certainly drastic. Your natural hair colour was now a striking silver colour, the spotlights of the club caught it beautifully and it made many a head turn to admire the colour. Obito was certain you had lost at least ten pounds, and your outfit on this particular night was far too indecent for public display.

You wore a sleeveless midnight velvet dress that wrapped around your slender throat, exposing the entire length of your back and highlighting the fact that you were not wearing a bra. When you threw your hands in the air, he could see the barest glimpse of the side of your breasts and he cursed. The skirt of the dress clung to your thighs and butt and it would have been too much for the Uchiha if it had not been for the semi-sheer chiffon panels that fell down to almost touching the floor, hiding the bare skin from sight and making it at least a bit more acceptable. Along with the chunky silver heels on your feet, you looked like a fucking goddess, and it seemed like you knew it.

Obito frowned, he was unsure about these changes and he most certainly disapproved of you losing weight, it was absolutely not necessary. He longed for the old y/n, the girl that would complain that her feet were far too delicate to wear heels, and preferred to sit in a booth with him to chat rather than indulging in dancing for hours. You looked just as drop-dead gorgeous in simple jeans and baggy shirts, although he couldn’t help but appreciate the effort you had clearly gone to this evening.

He was hypnotised by the rolling of your hips as you writhed against Kurenai’s lithe body, his eyes zeroed in on the placement of your hands as they stuck like glue around her lower back. A giggle bubbled from your lips, and he wondered what conversation could possibly be made over the din blaring incessantly.

Did you realise how intently he was watching you?

A deep grunt of irritation made Obito’s eyes snap to the side. Kakashi and Gai wore matching expressions of profound exasperation. The Uchiha knew that y/n had roped these two idiots into ensuring that he came along this evening, and he didn’t know if he should feel grateful or betrayed.

His silver haired friend tipped his drink forward as he gestured with his head towards you, “why don’t you go dance with her?” he asked barely audible over the music.

Obito scoffed and drained the last of his beer, his first and only one of the night. He could not afford to succumb to his swelling emotions, and alcohol would only serve in loosening his tongue and ruining everything past the point of reconciliation.

“And why would I do that?”

Kakashi turned to Gai, and the pair exchanged a silent conversation that consisted of shoulders being shrugged and eyes shifting to and fro. Obito had already refocused on y/n, who looked away suddenly as if you had been caught doing something you shouldn’t have.

Had you been watching him?

~

You were a nervous fucking wreck.

Nothing seemed to be going to plan, and you were running out of ideas to turn the tides. Perhaps this had not been the foolproof plan you had assumed it would be. Obito seemed worse than ever, and it crushed your soul to bear witness to his misery.

Your fingers combed through your newly coloured hair, still finding it strange to see the shimmering silver colour as you played with the locks and tried desperately not to drown in your anxiety. Kurenai eyed you with concern, a small frown forming on her brow as she tugged you more forcefully into the dance.

It was hard to watch as your best friend in the whole damn world pulled away from you, turning his back and effectively slamming the door on decades of friendships. You didn’t understand what had changed, had you done something wrong? Did he not like you anymore?

The constant worry that gnawed at you day and night had affected your appetite, resulting in you losing weight and sadly not from your butt.

Obito Uchiha was the best person you knew, he was everything to you – the sun and the moon. He was kind, passionate, darkly funny and so compassionate that it seemed improbable. Obito always spoke about how you had forced him out into the big bad world, but in truth, you had held hands and brokered that adventure together. Without him, nothing would be as it was today.

The easy smile that he had always wore when around you had slowly morphed into a frown of displeasure. No longer did he seek out your company, no more innocuous texts to find out your opinion of the latest movie or book. The Uchiha was actively avoiding you, and enough was enough.

You rubbed absently at your chest, directly over your heart. You refused to admit that your friendship had ceased being enough for you, unrequited love was not on the cards and you did not wish to be pitied by your friends. Instead, you pushed the feelings aside, jumping willingly into the arms of any man that showed you the affection you craved. It was downright stupid, and you knew that, but for brief moments it didn’t hurt quite so much.

It was hard to drag your gaze away from him.

He looked so handsome, as he always did. Sat stiffly with Kakashi and Gai a good distance away in a booth that they had procured earlier in the night. His dark hair was tousled in a windswept manner, and how you longed to run your fingers through that hair until you scratched at his scalp. You imagined how soft it would feel under your touch, how he might groan if you were to tug, and that had you biting your lip in want.

His skin was sun-kissed and smooth except for the lines of small scars that marked the side of his mouth from a childhood accident. An accident you had witnessed, and would never forget. The blood-curdling scream of your young voice filled your mind instantly as you tried to shake the image away, not wishing to sully the moment. Those scars did nothing to detract from his good looks, in fact, they made him look mysterious and you always noticed how they would tug whenever his lazy lopsided grin would spread across his lips.

Obito was more than a foot taller than you, with broad shoulders and a swimmer’s toned body – well, it was only fitting since he did indeed swim like a damned fish. The khaki coloured v-neck top he wore stretched taut over his upper half, biceps rippling every time he lifted the bottle of beer to his mouth and your thighs pressed together unbidden.

His eyes swept to your own and you looked away suddenly, feeling like you had been caught with your whole hand in the cookie jar. Kurenai smiled mischievously, pulling your hands to spin you around until your back was pressed to her front. You swore there was a flare of red that illuminated for the briefest second, but it couldn’t have, could it?

You were more than aware of Obito’s weird family condition, how his eyes would turn crimson when he experienced profound emotions. It was rare to witness, and the only other time you remembered was when he had been so angry at one of your ex-boyfriends who had cheated on you, that he almost tore the poor boy apart with his bare hands.

The shiver rushed up your spine at the memory, the absolute feral rage that had contorted his face until he was almost unrecognisable. It had been the turning point for you, the savagery he displayed in protecting your honour spoke to a deep part of you that wished to be cared for and loved unconditionally.

You were so wrapped up in reliving that memory that you didn’t notice the change until it was far too late. Images of Obito’s snarling face as he pressed the cheating bastard up against the wall, the restraint in his free hand that was curled and ready to strike him repeatedly whilst you watched on in fear, but not fear of Obito – fear of the feelings that were rushing to the surface.

It wasn’t until the hand at your waist dipped just that bit lower that you realised something was wrong. Kurenai’s hand shouldn’t be that large, and she certainly wouldn’t have flexed her fingers into the velvet fabric of your dress until it raised the hem higher.

Your head swung wildly to the side to look over your shoulder, and your terrified eyes came to find the tall frame of Kakashi Hatake at your back. He smiled, catlike and coy whilst his eyes twinkled with mirth.

When the fuck had he moved?

Leaning down, a hand lifted to brush the hair from your ear and you felt his lips grazing your skin as he spoke, “when are the two of you going to admit it, huh?”

You frowned, confused by his question and the cold prickle at your scalp. You had halted your slow dance, but Kakashi tugged on your hips to resume the rhythm you had previously kept as he waited patiently for an answer.

“Admit what?”

The silver haired man that had been your friend for years, rolled his eyes and gestured with his head towards the booth that now Kurenai, Gai and Obito sat at. The Uchiha had a death grip on the empty bottle of beer in his hand, and for one second you worried he would explode the glass. Your eyes lifted to his face to find onyx eyes that were fighting the creep of scarlet that tried to emerge, his brow was drawn low and his mouth was set in a fixed angry line.

“You two clearly want each other, why deny it?” the Hatake spoke again in your ear, and the hairs on your arms raised at the clear accusation. Worry began to unfurl in your stomach, you knew more than most of the deep rivalry that ran deep between Obito and Kakashi. At the heart of it was brotherly love, but that did not mean that these two idiots had not caused each other a healthy dose of pain and humiliation over the years.

To be held in the arms of Kakashi at a moment like this was akin to a death wish for the silver haired male, yet he seemed to revel in that knowledge. His grip on your hip tightened as his other hand spread across the flat of your stomach. Your feet felt leaden but he rocked you into a natural rhythm that would most definitely look explicit to onlookers.

“Just look at him, if he isn’t planning my murder right this second then I am a horse’s ass!” he continued unabashedly.

The sassy retort flew from your mouth before you could think better of it, “you are a horse’s ass Kakashi! I fail to see how this is going to help the situation, you stupid fucker!”

Your eyes never left Obito’s, he was staring fixedly at you as if he could see into your very soul. Your breathing was becoming laboured as your felt yourself wilt under the intense gaze, lashes lowering as you blinked much too rapidly.

“Oh my, is it me or Obito that has caused the change in you, y/n? I can feel your heartbeat in my body, and the heat coming off you could melt steel…” he cooed as a new song started that was a slower pace. Kakashi forced your hips to grind against his front, and a whine left your lips before you could stop it.

“Seeing as I am about to get a pretty savage punch to the face, I’d like you to make it worth my while. I swear to all that is holy, if you hook your arms around my neck right now, the stupid Uchiha that will be here in seconds will worship at your feet by the end of the night,” he whispered.

You were so focused on Obito, who was now on his feet and walking towards you both with crackling embers in his eyes that you only took in half of the request. Something primal obeyed Kakashi’s demand, your arms lifted to wrap around his neck, fingers stroking at the silky silver strands absently.

Obito faltered for a second.

A tic worked his stubbled jaw before his gait increased and as you blinked and reopened your eyes, he was there. His intoxicating scent filled your head instantly, that musky aroma laced with smouldering wood that always reminded you of childhood camping trips.

His hand shot out, and for a second you were sure it was to knock Kakashi’s teeth out of his smug head, but at the last moment, the hand diverted and curled around the back of your head. Obito tugged forcefully until you were ripped from the Hatake’s arms and into the chest of the Uchiha.

Your own hands unwound from Kakashi’s neck and braced upon Obito’s strong chest as you fought for every breath to leave your lips. He had lost the fight to control the colour of his eyes, carmine irises burned into the face of his friend and rival, almost begging him to fight him over you. Seconds felt like hours as the silent tension crackled above your heads, finally, the Hatake backed down. With his hands raised in surrender, he offered both of you a crooked smile before he dug his hands deep into his pockets and sauntered back to the booth by the wall.

A thick finger hooked under your chin, tipping your head back to look into his eyes that continued to pulse with unadulterated emotion.

“We need to talk, y/n.”

His voice was rough as it always was, but there was a different edge to his tone and it had you shivering all over again. He felt it, Obito cocked his head as you shook in his hold. His eyebrows lifted, close to disappearing into his hairline and you could feel him starting to retreat, he was mistaking your swarming lust for fear and you refused to allow it.

With a swiftness you had never previously owned, your arms anchored around his neck and your lips pressed against his own. The shock of it made him pause, but only for the briefest of moments until he roared to life once more. His mammoth hands crushed you to him, eliminating all space between your bodies, and swept you into the most heated kiss of your life.

~

Obito had clearly died and gone to heaven. He had obviously tripped on his way towards you, cracked his head on the polished floor and now here he was in his own personal heaven kissing you like he always imagined.

The raging fury that had pounded in his ears dulled to be replaced with an explosion of desire. It swept through his veins, scorching his nerve endings and leaving nothing but char and ash in its wake. Not even the thought of pounding Kakashi’s stupid fucking face into the dirt could top this feeling as he held you close.

Mine. Mine! MINE!

The chant reverberated inside his skull as he let himself drown in the feel of your mouth. Your lips were plush and tasted of your favourite mint chapstick, his tongue lazily stroked the plump lower lip as he asked with forced politeness to be invited inside. Before he could slide into your wet cavern, desperate to explore every crevice and make it his, you pulled away.

Obito growled, low and deadly in its intensity.

He was more than displeased, he was downright outraged at your audacity to deny him what should have always been his. The Uchiha was a feminist through and through, knew that you and all women were not mere objects to be owned by men or anyone for that matter, but it didn’t stop the animalistic instinct that thrashed and roared like a caged lion. He wanted to own your body and soul, but he equally wanted you to own him. If he were honest, you had owned him for years.

He watched as you slid down his body, he hadn’t even realised that he had pulled you off your feet as you kissed. Watched as your hands fell from around his neck, missing their presence instantly, and stared at the fingers that touched your kiss swollen lips.

Your eyes burned with desire, so why had you pulled back? And then he saw it, that flicker of impish behaviour that he knew so well. You were playing with him, and you had no idea how foolish a move that was right now. Toying with him like a cat toys with a cornered mouse – well this mouse held no fear and was about to prove it.

The loud whoops and hollers filtered to the Uchiha’s ears, he didn’t need to turn to know that your friends were overjoyed to bear witness to your first kiss. A cute little blush was blooming to life on your cheeks, pearly whites sinking into your lower lip and one foot twisting in embarrassment. Obito was about to make it oh so much worse, and he smiled a truly deviant grin that caught your attention with ease as he swooped down.

~

This was a nightclub, you didn’t indulge in public displays of attention, ever – let alone for your very first kiss with Obito Uchiha. Yet, you didn’t regret it for one single second, just wished it hadn’t been ogled by everyone in the damn club. Your embarrassment served to douse the flames of desire a little, but one look at the wicked smile that lit upon Obito’s face, and you blanched.

One second you were staring up at the man that you had spent so long yearning for, and the next you were upside down staring at his sexy ass as he walked you from the club. The barbarian had lifted you like a fucking sack of potatoes, slung you over his shoulder like you were the spoils of war.

His strong palm curled around your thighs, pushing aside the chiffon panels until he was directly touching your flesh, and that first connection made heat pool indecently between your legs. You whimpered knowing that when he finally touched you where you wanted him most, he would find it soaking and you could already imagine the smirk that would plaster his face.

A lacklustre war broke out in your head, on the one hand, you definitely did not wish to be manhandled in this way. Every bratty instinct provoking you to kick your feet, to thump your tiny fists against his back and rail at him to put you down. However, if you did that, would he take that as a rejection? Your want for this man was reaching a crescendo, if he were to back down now you would be left a puddle of sexual frustration, and it would likely end your friendship for good.

In the end, it didn’t truly matter.

By the time your brain had processed the last few moments, you were already outside feeling the crash of the cool autumn air on your exposed skin. You had to reassure the two bouncers that this was ‘all fine’ as they moved to block the Uchiha’s path. His rumbling chest was warning enough to keep a safe distance, and all attempts to engage him in conversation went unnoticed until you arrived at the door of his apartment.

Obito carefully lowered you to your feet in front of his door. His hands lifted to cage your body against the black wood, you could feel his arousal press to your stomach. You gasped as one hand moved, not knowing where it might go until he dug it deep into his pocket to fish out his keys. He chuckled in your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin.

“Feeling jumpy, y/n?”

Defiantly, you shook your head and raised your chin as you waited for him to unlock the door. As soon as the key turned in the lock you pulled the handle and strode inside, reminding yourself of a place you had visited more times than you could count. It felt different somehow, although nothing had changed.

The door closed softly behind you, turning you gazed at Obito was leaning back against the door, watching you like a predator watches its prey. His midnight eyes scoured you from head to toe, and a mean sneer graced his face.

“Tell me, who were you trying to impress tonight with this new look?” he hissed through his teeth.

You planted your hands on your hips, ready for the verbal onslaught that you knew was coming. Obito could never hold his damn tongue, and you knew he was mad at you. Two can play this game… you thought, eyes narrowing.

“Anyone with the balls to go after what they want.”

Two quick strides and he was in your face, finger hooked under your chin as carmine orbs blazed their outrage at your sharp tongue.

“Don’t give it out if you can’t take it Uchiha,” you purred, rolling his family name until it sounded lewd in your mouth.

His eyes softened, those beautiful dark lashes lowering as his thumb moved to stroke your lower lip. You lapped at the digit, eliciting a soft groan from the towering male.

“Sorry… I –,”

You cut him off with another kiss. Where had this forthright behaviour come from? Sure, you were hardly a wilting wallflower, but you didn’t normally initiate as often as this. Obito was quick to respond, those large palms rubbing up the sides of your dress until the hem almost had your ass uncovered.

Winding your fingers through his silken hair, nails raking into the scalp as you had longed to do, and he groaned just as you had known he would. You were hoovering on your tiptoes, and even with him stooping, the height difference was substantial. When his hands found your naked back, those calloused fingers stroked with vigour and sent rippling pleasure to coil in your stomach.

“Obi…” you whined, tugging on his lip with your teeth. You felt the impatience moments before the sound of ripping fabric rent the air. The fucker had literally ripped the chiffon panels from your dress, they fluttered to the floor as his hands cupped your ass aggressively.

“Jump.”

You obeyed the command without a second’s hesitation, winding your legs around his waist as he took your entire weight like it was nothing. He was walking with purpose towards his bedroom, lips locked in desperate kisses and you prayed he didn’t fall over something.

He pulled back to kiss along your jawline, peppering your skin with bruising kisses that had you moaning and arching your back. His hands palmed your round cheeks, massaging the flesh as you ground your slick centre against the straining erection you could feel through his pants.

“I don’t like that you’ve lost weight, y/n, but we can talk about that later,” he whispered in your ear seconds before his teeth tugged on your lobe. You huffed your irritation, but you bit your tongue. You could spit your venom at him later after the worst itch of your entire life had been scratched.

Obito sat on the edge of his bed, cradling you on his lap and it simply wasn’t enough. You pushed at his chest, using every ounce of force to make him lay back. Your hurried fingers sunk to the hem of his top, lifting it to uncover his rippling abs. Licking your lips like a satisfied cat you dove down to ravish his skin, teeth nipping and sucking small bruises, marking him as yours.

The top disappeared into a darkened corner as you traced every line of definition, stopping to pay careful attention to his dark nipples. Obito sucked in a breath and raised his head to watch as your tongue flickered out to tease each bud in turn.

You sat back to admire your handiwork, Obito looked perfect below you. Cheeks flushed, eyes fluttering shut as his hands sought out your hips, desperate to touch you wherever he could reach. Toned chest rising and falling, a smattering of small bruises already forming from your possessive mouth.

“So pretty, Obito.”

He growled at your murmured words, eyes flashing in warning as his fist grabbed at the fabric covering your chest. His thick fingers curled menacingly around the material and yanked. You felt the fabric protest as it lay nestled around your neck, but Obito was far stronger and it gave way easily enough.

Your breasts were now exposed to his hungry gaze, hands lifted to cover your modesty but he was quick to grab at those hands and force them behind your back as he sat upon the mattress. His hot mouth planted scorching kisses to your mounds, lavishing attention everywhere but where you wanted it most. He made a dance of kissing and licking towards your nipples to dart away at the last second, and it was making you crazy with need.

Slowly, he released your captured hands which found their rightful place deep in his hair. You pressed Obito firmly into your achingly needy tits, making your intention clear. He smiled against your slick skin, eyes tipping up to meet your gaze as he took your nipple into his mouth. That first pulling suck damn near broke you, every touch was mirrored between your legs and your thighs squeezed the Uchiha’s hips as you sought out more friction.

Obito worshipped your breasts, cooing sweet nothings as his lips, tongue and teeth forced you closer and closer to the edge. One hand stroked down the rippling mass of muscles in his back, nails raking his golden skin until he hissed.

“I thought you wanted to talk,” you asked through your lust hazed mind. Obito stilled, releasing your tortured peak with an audible ‘pop’ that sounded nothing other than utterly sinful in the hushed room.

“We can talk, or I can take care of this first…” he growled, a hand slipping under your dress and inching towards your soaked centre. A shudder passed up his spine as he felt your wetness, shocked eyes blinked wide before a slow smile spread over his face.

“Tell me, y/n. Who made you this fucking wet? Was it Kakashi, or was it me?”

Your head turned away, refusing to meet his eye and he punished you for it. Eager fingers slipped your ruined panties to the side and ran the length of your slit – back and forth went his knuckles as he waited.

“Fucking hell, Obi! You know damn well who caused this,” you mewled, rocking yourself into his touch, desperate for his fingers to sink deeper into your folds and bring on your orgasm that was sitting so close, yet still so far.

His free hand tightened on your hip, fixing you in place as he gestured with his chin for you to look at him. “Answer me,” he demanded flatly.

“You! You are the reason that my panties are ruined, you are the reason that I am so damn close to cumming that I can practically taste it.” you thundered in response, but you weren’t finished there.

“You are always the reason. The reason I dyed my hair, the reason I lost weight, the fucking reason that I dressed like a whore tonight! I thought – I thought you had stopped liking me, and it hurt. Fuck Obi, it hurt so bad…”

The tears were fast to fall, flooding your lashline before crashing down your cheeks. He was there in an instant, soft kisses over your tear-streaked skin and hugging you into his body. Bare chests pressed together as he held you whilst you cried.

The atmosphere in the room changed, no longer did it feel charged with sexual energy, now a sorrowful weight pressed upon your entwined forms.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, y/n. Let me make it up to you, will you let me do that? Let me show you who you belong to.” Each statement was punctuated with tender kisses on your lips and jawline. The desire pulled taut at his final words, and when he pushed to standing whilst still holding you, all you could do was anchor yourself.

Obito pressed your back softly into the mattress and followed you down. He kissed a path from your ankle, divesting you of your heels in the process before finally reaching your inner thighs. His rough hands massaged your hips through your dress which was now only a skirt from his violent treatment of the garment.

At last, you lay beneath him in only your sopping white lace panties, and the Uchiha stared at you with love drunk eyes. “So fucking perfect,” he whispered, one finger tracing from your bobbing throat to the top of your underwear.

Before you could blink, Obito pulled apart your already ruined underwear and tossed them into the darkness. He lay between your legs, eyes struggling to decide where to look – torn between your beautiful gaze or your perfect pussy. It seemed like your core won the battle, in the end, his stare was reverential and it made you squirm in anticipation.

He sensed the urgency and finally took pity on you. His mouth was tender and loving as he dragged the flat of his tongue along your glistening folds, tasting you for the first time and pulling the most decadent sounding growl from his throat.

Obito ran his tongue in tight circles around your clit as his fingers explored your centre. It wasn’t long before one of his thick fingers was pressing into your entrance, stroking your walls lovingly and making your back arch high on the bed. One hand glided up your stomach until he could grasp your breast, fingers playing with the nipple as he continued his ministrations.

“Always knew you’d be delicious… never get enough… too good for me.”

He spoke incoherently into your pussy, but every word reached your ears and stoked further at your fires which already burned white-hot. Obito pressed a second finger into your tight hole, and you whined at the exquisite stretch that curled your toes.

“Oh, baby, gotta prep you. Open up for me y/n, need you to take all of my cock. Such a good girl for me,” he cooed between tongue flicks on your sensitive clit.

You were so close, that coil of tension was pulled so tightly in your stomach that it could snap at any second and for the first time in your life, you felt the compulsion to ask permission, “fu-fuck… need to cum so bad. Please, Obi.”

You felt his devilish smile on your slit, his fingers curled to hit that squishy special spot in your pussy walls and his mouth suckled your bundle of nerves into his wicked mouth. The orgasm tore through you like an unrelenting force of nature, your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and your back bowed until it was almost painful to hold in this position.

Obito stroked you through your high. His hand was soaked to the knuckles in your juices as he pulled them from you and made a show of sucking them clean as you watched, completely fucked out.

“Mmm kitten, such a good girl. Never taught you’d ask permission to cum, do you like it when I take control of your delicious body, huh? Shall I use it for my own pleasure now?”

His words were speaking directly to your core, and a new coil of pleasure was quickly building. You nodded fervently, completely unabashed by how desperate you probably looked to him. If he didn’t fuck you soon, you would implode on his bed.

The sound of his zipper lowering pulled your glazed eyes back to his looming body. Obito pushed both his jeans and boxers down in one swift movement, freeing his straining erection and allowing him relief from the tight constraints. He was big, in fact, that was the understatement of the decade. The Uchiha’s cock slapped against his stomach, almost reaching his belly button and you bit your lip harshly at the sight.

He wrapped one hand around the length, his thumb spreading his precum down the shaft as he pumped it for your enjoyment. One prominent vein stood to stark attention along the underside, and you knew his skin would taste musky and delicious. The phantom tang of salt made your mouth water for him, a hand lifting to beckon him closer.

“Like what you see baby? This is all yours, understand?” he hissed through his teeth as he knelt between your legs. His tousled hair had fallen into his face, skin flushed from arousal and a guttural groan vibrated through your entire body as the head of his cock teased your slit.

He coated himself in the remnants of your juices.

“Do I need protection kitten?”

You shook your head slowly, begging for any words to form in your mind – you had never fallen so silent in the heat of the moment and it was embarrassing.

“Please,” was all you managed to whine, your throat sounding raw with the need to be filled. Obito smiled as he pressed forwards slowly. His hands braced on either side of your head, and you raised yourself to snag his lips as he continued to press into you. The slight burn from accommodating such a monstrous length was not enough to overwhelm the pleasure that was spiralling out of control.

The Uchiha grunted as he at long last bottomed out, your bodies meeting as if you were two perfect puzzle pieces. You accepted him in a way that you had never done before, this was heaven and you would never give it up. Obito was yours, now and forever and you were his.

This was not the raw fucking that you had expected when you had first entered his apartment, this was so much more than that. Your hearts were connected in a way that spoke of the years you had spent together, the love that formed from decades of friendship and would continue to build into the future from this moment onward.

His strokes were languid but deep, rocking into you with a control that could not be matched nor compared. Your eyes met and his ruby coloured irises were so beautiful to look upon, the knowledge that you were the reason for his heightened emotions tightened your chest and thrummed in your lower stomach.

“Obi… faster.”

He obliged your demand, his hips snapping into a furious pace that pressed your head into the soft pillow. Obito shifted back onto his knees, gripping your thighs and lifting one leg to drape over his shoulder whilst the other was pressed tightly to your chest. This new angle felt even deeper which had seemed impossible, but here you were being split in half by your best friend.

“Kitten. Fuck. So close. Need you to cum on my cock, y/n.”

His grip was bruising, and you felt the crescendo of your second orgasm tipping over the edge. Stars blurred your vision as Obito fucked you into delirious pleasure, he made you drunk on both his cock and his burning love. It was intoxicating, and you never wanted to come back down.

Your lewd moans and exaltations of his name that chanted from your lips as he pounded through your release were enough to tip his own. Obito shuddered, short and sharp thrusts into your walls that were attempting to milk him of everything he had.

“I love you, y/n,” he said after what felt like the longest moment of your shared life. He cautiously watched for your reaction and was ecstatic when a wide and genuine smile split your face. Without pulling from you, he fell into your open arms and nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

His body trembled as you held him tightly, stroking at his sweat-soaked hair and feathering kisses on his forehead.

“I love you too, dumbass.”

[wifeyreid]

Solitaire with Spencer

This is what I imagine playing solitaire with our resident genius Dr Spencer Reid would look like! I play solitaire allot on my laptop (hence the theme) on Microsoft solitaire collection. So the actual playing of solitaire is specific to that. This goes without saying but please don’t repost my work, reblogs are welcome however.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Content: Pure SFW fluff, brief use of Y/N

Words: 546

Warnings: None, although this hasn’t been peer reviewed? is that what it’s called? so there might be a few mistakes.

A/N: This is my second Fanfiction writing extravaganza/expedition/whatever the fuck you wanna call it. Although I’m counting it as my first, because well, my actual first one was a croc of shite and riddled with cringe. Urban Dictionary definition of cringe: that fic. so, to my audience of idk how many, here’s my *first* fic! 

    The living room is cozy, warm and compact, which adds to the atmosphere. It’s a box room with a small and comfy L shaped couch in the left hand corner of the room. On the wall opposite it, centred, is a decently sized fireplace. To the left of it is a tv stand and tv. On the wall to the left of the fireplace was the door into the room, and a bookshelf which is practically filled to the brim with books. Not surprising for the apartment, considering you and spencer are its inhabitants. And, in the middle of the room was a mahogany coffee table. You were sitting on the couch, solitaire open on your laptop, as spencer walked in with two coffees in his hand. One of which had an exorbitant amount of sugar.

    “You know any card game is really all just math. They’re not that difficult to figure out” Spencer stated, putting your coffees on the table, making sure not to mix up the two. “Is that why you’re banned from nearly every casino in Vegas?” Y/N quipped. Spencer loved it whenever you played cards. The concentration that exuded from your face was truly a sight to see. He thought it was really cute. I mean he thought anything you did was cute but, this took the cake. “spencer?” Y/n interjected, waving their hands in his face in an attempt at catching his often times fickle attention. “oh uh, hey look!” He blurted, hoping you didn’t notice his blatant daydreaming. He could have sworn his body was working against him, as a faint blush was forming on his cheeks. “It’s telling you you’ve run out of moves” he stated, trying quickly to change subject and draw attention away from his face. Darned cheeks have a mind of their own, he thought. You noticed, but decided you’d let it slide. Just this once. But.. not without teasing him about it first. You loved how flustered it made him.  “Guess captain obvious decided to show up” you giggled. “Who’s that? Is it a new marvel character? did you know Marvel Comics has over 7,000 characters, and more than 50,000 if you count one off and secondary characters?” spencer asked “oh and there’s over 10,000 characters in the DC comics!” he exclaimed. “Oh how I love it when you ramble” you chuckled “but it’s a saying Spence. I was just teasing you for pointing out the obvious” you explained. Seemingly impossible, Spencer’s face went an even brighter red, causing you both to break out into a fit of laughter. After a moments bliss, you decided to speak again, saving him his embarrassment. Even though you had been dating for two years, well, two years, 4 months, 7 days, and 15 minutes if you ask Spencer, he still gets sheepish around you. “ Now, can I get back to Solitaire. I’m determined to win” you asked, your lips forming a smug grin. “you sure you don’t need any help?” Spencer teased “Captain I’m bad at solitaire.” He paused. “No offence.” You put your hand to your chest, pretending rather dramatically, to take a blow to the heart but you stopped abruptly “ Hey!! I am not bad at solitaire!” you remarked. “But, help would be appreciated.”

[jilliannotfound]

More SBI fam with gn!reader please?

𝕊𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝔻𝕒𝕪

SBI x GN!LittleSibling!Reader (in-game)

Summary: Y/N spends a snow day with their family :)

Warnings: Slight language

A/N: Hi! I’m so happy you all have been enjoying reading these SBI fics as much as I enjoy writing them! This does exist in the same universe as my previous two SBI fics, but it’s not necessary to read them (if you’d like to though, they’re linked on my masterlist). Enjoy this fluffy SBI family content!

—

It had been snowing for almost a week now, thick layers covering the land as far as the eye could see.

Being practically stuck inside, Y/N felt like their head was going to burst if they didn’t do something besides play card games with Wilbur.

“Daddd..” They said, dragging out the final letter to grab his attention.

“Yes?”

“Can we please do something? Like literally anything other than sitting here?”

Phil peeked out of the window next to his seat and looked back at his four children.

“The snow seems to have slowed down, if you all bundle up properly I don’t see why you can’t go out and play in it.”

The four had never been happier to hear their father's approval to go outside, all getting up and rushing to their winter gear.

Tommy ran out of the house with Techno hot on his trail to make sure the lanky boy didn’t hurt himself as Wilbur tied up Y/N’s snow boots.

As soon as Wilbur opened the door he was met with a large snowball to the face.

“You’re fucking paying for that one!” He said, scooping up snow and aiming for the now running blonde boy.

They chased each other into the woods and Y/N and Techno were left standing in their bright snowy yard.

“What do ya want to do?” Techno asked.

“Hmmm,” They thought out loud. “Oh! Let’s build a snowman!”

He gave them a look of dread, but Y/N knew he would never deny them of anything.

“Let’s get started I guess.” He fake sighed and they began construction.

They had a solid base started, the first ball making the snowman nearly half of Y/N’s size already. That was until Tommy came running their way trampling the snow mound, face planting into the soft pile.

“Tommy!” They exclaimed as Tommy looked up at his annoyed siblings.

“Sorry… We’ll help fix it!”

“We? I’m not doing shit.” Wilbur added from behind him.

“It’s your fault just as much as it is mine! If you didn’t throw that snowball at me I wouldn’t have fallen.” He countered.

“You’re both helping.” Techno said, sticking a hand out for Tommy to grab.

Y/N reached up and brushed all of the snow off of Tommy’s hair, quickly checking his face for any bruises from the fall.

They all began rolling the snow up again, getting a decent base that was somehow even bigger than their first attempt.

Once the body was mostly built Y/N went to go find sticks and rocks to decorate their new snowy friend, leaving the taller members to finish the head of the snowman.

Tommy stuck the two long branches into the side of the snowman to give him arms while Y/N used some pebbles to create a kind smiley face.

They all stepped back to view their creation, trying to figure out what looked off.

“I think he needs a nose.” Phil chimed from the porch above them, holding a carrot with a smile.

“Yes!” Y/N said as their father handed them the final piece.

They stuck to in the face of the snowman and smiled.

“Wait!” Wilbur exclaimed, pulling the beanie off of his head and handing it to his smallest sibling. “This is the final piece.”

They stared at the large white figure for a moment, thinking.

“How-“ Before they could even get the concern out of Y/N’s mouth, Techno came up behind them lifting them off of the ground so they could reach.

After placing the burgundy cap on the snowman, they looked at their temporary companion with joy.

“He looks kind of fucked.” Tommy said and Wilbur and Phil simultaneously smacked him on the arm as they all burst into laughter.

“You’ve been out here for hours, let’s get some hot chocolate, yeah?” Phil suggested, dragging his frozen children into the warmth of their home.

The five cuddled up, sipping the sweet refreshment with smiles, relishing in the fun filled day they spent with each other.

[luimagines]

He Accidentally Hurt You pt.2

Masterlist

Set platonically and within the group Part 1

Hyrule

Your blood was pounding as your feet carried you across the battle field.

Your hearing was rendered useless by the cause, you only thoughts were on Hyrule and getting to him before the hoard of monsters did. He had somehow gotten separated from the group in the struggle and was left to fend for himself.

You made contact.

The sword in your hand followed through your practiced movements, slicing all and any between you and your target.

You could hear him in the distance, you were close, you just had to get- just a little-

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and the air changed. The split second static was your only warning before lightning struck.

Monsters fell all around you but you failed to pay attention to that. Your attention was instead on the blinding, scalding twist in your arm that held your trusted blade. You couldn’t even find it in you to let go of the weapon, your muscles incapable to receiving orders.

The pain traveled through your arm and across your chest until it encompassed your whole being.

Screams tore through your throat without your knowledge and when the attack subsided, your whole body went rag doll and your vision went black.

“Please. Please. Please.” A voice whispered through the darkness. It was soft. Pleading. A blessed chill seemed deep into your bones and you found it within yourself to open your eyes.

Hyrule was crouched above you, tears in his eyes with shallow cuts across his tunic and exposed skin. Not a lot of blood though, your brain supplies. You take a relieved breath.

“Hey.” You croaked out in greeting. “Glad to see you’re ok. I was worried.”

“I didn’t know you were there.” He blurts as if he didn’t hear you. Maybe he didn’t. “I thought it was only monsters nearby. I don’t think I have enough magic to heal you completely. This is all my fault.”

“Fault?” You attempted to sit up. You succeed. Mostly.

A grunt leaves your mouth at the stiffness in your joints and you force yourself to power though to reach into your inventory.

A sniffle leaves your Traveler when you push his hands away when you find your target. The red liquid glints in the dying sunlight and you hand it out to him. “Think you can open it?”

He nods and pry's it open before you can even think about getting into a better sitting position.

You don’t think twice about taking the potion when he hands it back.

“Save your magic.” You say. “I’ll be fine.”

And you know you’re right....It’ll take a little more than that to convince the rest of the group when you get back though. Hyrule plans to smother you until not a single blemish is left. The others? Well... They’ll keep an eye on you.

Twilight

“Ten rupees says you can’t make that throw.” You hear Warriors say.

“Double it and I’ll gladly prove you wrong.” Twilight responds.

The book in your lap calls for attention more than whatever those two are doing for the sake of friendly competition. You don’t look up, trying to keep your eyes on the page but you can’t help the growing curiosity in the back of your head.

“What are we using to aim with?”

“That?”

“Sure.”

You roll your eyes and keep your head down.

“I’ll be twenty rupees richer and it’ll shut your mouth. Just watch.” Twilight grumbles.

There’s a tap and a growl before something comes at your head full throttle. It’s dense but not enough to keep it from exploding all into your hair and it knocks you over slightly.

You closed your book to protect it from the falling matter and reach at the spot. By your feet laying the offending object.

An apple.

They threw an apple at your head. Correction. Twilight threw an apple at your head.

The thoughts in your head spin a bit. Your whole head is throbbing but you doubt there’s any blood. You look up just in time to see Warrior and Twilight running at you as fast as they can. Twilight reaches you first and kneels next to you. “By Ordana, are you ok?”

His hands hover over you, trying to take in the damage without actually touching you.

“Who are you?” You blurt out, very quickly realizing that it was the wrong thing to say.

His face drops and Warrior wears a similar expression.

“Kidding.” A pained grin covers your face. “Take me to Hyrule please.”

“I’m so sorry.” Twilight reaches for you and you comply. Once you’re on your feet he speaks again. “Warrior messed up my shot and it hit you by accident.”

“That’s a weird way to say you lost a bet.”

You kick Warrior as payback.

Sky

“So...” You sit next to Sky during the break. “What are you planning to make this time?”

The boy next to you already had his whittling knife out and a decent sized chunk of wood in his lap. He picked it up and spun it a few times, staring into it as if he could already see the form inside it. It was just his job to take it out.

“I don’t know yet.” He admits. “Maybe it’ll come to me.”

You nod and let him work in relative silence, the faint but consistent sounds of Sky working next to you create a blissful and serene atmosphere.

The others are off doing their own thing, each keeping to themselves for the most part.

It’s nice.

“Actually, can you help me with this real quick?”

Your attention is back on Sky. He’s trying to get his knife out of the wood block, the outline of the shape he’s making already starting to form.

You don’t recognize it.

Sky picks up the knife and the whole block follows. “It got stuck.”

“How?” You raise an eyebrow and try to keep the smile off of your face.

Your response is only a shrug and the wood being thrust in your direction.

You grab it and instinctively tighten your grip on it when you feel Sky pull.

You both use your strengths to your advantage and pull in different directions. You feel the knife begin to slip out and adjust your grip. Within seconds the blade is free and you feel it cross the tip of your finger.

Instantly, the wood is dropped and you cradle your hand close to you, putting pressure on the injured digit.

“Ok, got it, thank- What happened?” Sky scoots closer to you and pulls your hands out.

A thin red line follows the length of your finger and it only seems to grow as the moments pass. It doesn’t feel deep but it certainly won’t let you flex your finger for a while.

A quite hiss leaves Sky’s lips. “Well that could’ve gone better. Sorry about that.”

“It could’ve gone worse too.” You press a little on the injury, trying to will the pain away.

It doesn’t work, but hey, you try.

“Hold on. I think I have some bandages in my pack.” Sky gets up and jogs to where most of the others are sitting. He picks up his bag and looks inside for a minute or two before jogging back to you.

A small role of bandages sits in his hand and when he reach for your hand, you don’t hesitate to give it to him.

As he’s working on your finger, you feel mild irritation bubble up in your throat. “This better not scar.”

“Why’s that?” Sky replies.

“It’ll be the lamest story.”

He laughs and finishes his work.

Time

Sometimes it surprised you how short everyone in the group was. You weren’t sure if it was a Link thing or one of the biggest coincidences of the universe because it certainly wasn’t just because they were Hylian (but that probably didn’t help).

That being said, and what you could gather from The Captain, it boggled your mind further that Time was the biggest of everyone. Warrior made it seem like he’d stay small forever, implying that Time was smaller still when he first defeated Gannon.

That didn’t seem very fair.

For him and you....well everyone, only Twilight and Warrior were the ones exempt from having to look up at the old man. But you didn’t like the idea of someone so small fighting such a beast, so Time is included in your sympathy list.

Despite his size, he seemed to move as silent as a mouse. Only Wild would be quieter than him.

After some time of traveling with them all, you realized he was just as much as a gremlin as the rest.

He was not above pranking the living daylights out of poor unsuspecting teenagers.

And the thing is, no one could catch him. Somehow he managed to get them to in the blame on each other but you knew better. You swore it had to be him. There was no way. There was no way he could count as a Link and not get into this kind of stuff.

But no one believed you.

It definitely wasn’t fair.

With the stage set, it’s safe to say now that you were calmly, peacefully and quietly minding your own business. You weren’t bothering anyone.

You were writing in your journal under a tree with some low branches. Nothing too bad but in terms of shade and angle, you found it to be the perfect resting place.

You took a deep breath in and let it out.

Yes, it was nice.

“BOO!”

You jumped as high as your reflexes you take you and spun around, but you had forgotten where you were in the moment.

With a solid thunk, your head hit the branch above you and sat back down, with a curse.

While there was laughter in the your reaction, it was cut off abruptly at the first sign of pain. “Oh jeeze, I’m sorry. How bad does it hurt?”

A whimper escaped your mouth before you could stop it and you closed your journal, choosing to furiously rub your hands against the now tender spot on the top of your head. “Ow Time. Why did you do that?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d move like that.” He moved your hands away and inspected the area for himself. “No bleeding. Doesn’t look like it’ll need a potion...”

“I blame you.” You grumbled. “This is your fault.”

“I can accept that.” He nodded and stepped back. “There’s not much we can do about it in terms of healing, but perhaps Hyrule would be willing to lend a hand.”

“No way. He’d ask how it happened and I’m not going to lie to him.” You pouted. “No one will believe me if I told them the truth.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s you!” You glared at him.

A tiny giggle escaped from the so called Old Man of the group, Mr. Stick in the Mud. Senor Buzzkill. “And why would that make a difference?”

“I cannot believe you... Actually yes I can, you were doing this on purpose the whole time.”

He laughed more fully this time and didn’t seem to let up.

With a pout, you picked up your book and marched away.

One day you’ll get back at him. You just had to figure out how and when.

Four

“So, how do we play this game again?” You picked up the ball one of your companions took out. It was almost the size of your head and had crisscrossing lines. It was white and weighed less than you originally thought.

It was a relatively slow day and no one felt in the mood to dampen it by looking for trouble.

While Twilight and Warrior set up the net that was supposed to go with it, the rest were waiting and going over the rules.

“Just hit the ball over the net. You can’t the ball twice in a row, someone else has to hit it and if it touches the ground you lose the point.”

“Seems simple enough.” Wild takes the ball from you and tosses it a few times.

It takes a while for all the appropriate moves to be demonstrated but you all play the game with ease.

You were having a good time with your friends. Everyone was actually getting along for a change. With a smile on your face, you waited for the moment that would inevitably change.

You swore you could almost pin point when it happened.

With Four right across from you, his sudden change in stance gave away the glint in his eyes.

The ball came to him and he jumped up, higher than you thought he could and spiked.

Next thing you knew, you were on the ground, stunned and slightly disoriented and your face was hurting.

Four ran to your side as the game was halted. “That... was not what I was intending.”

“You don’t say... Can I step out for a minute?” You asked, trying to get your feet. Four helped you get away from the battle field- I mean, the game area and helped you sit back down against a nearby tree.

“Sorry about that.” He smiled apologetically. “Anything I can do to help?”

You looked up at him hopefully. “Lose the game?”

“Not a chance.”

[imaginativeamateur]

[Shikamaru Nara X Reader] Planned

Requested by: @anonymous: Shikamaru asking the reader to move in with him

Pairing: Shikamaru Nara x gn!Reader

Note: Thank you for your request, anon. Seriously, I had troubles coming up with the title and plot for so long lol ;DD. I had a really fun time writing this (this is like I dunno maybe the 4th draft?). Enough rambling, enjoy reading!

Your appetite dissipated as soon as you saw the words written on the letter sent out to all renters at your complex, “To restore the facilities of our complex, the monthly rent, therefore, would increase by 15%.”

After the Fourth Shinobi War, you were in no good financial condition. Working for the Council, your paycheck for the next two months was upheld to recover the ruins of the village. You did not regret your decision to give up your salary to help Konoha, but you were unsure how you would even make it through this month.

The number ‘15%’ kept on repeating in your head. You had to hide this from Shikamaru of course, at least for now. He was already busy enough with paperwork, you could not bother him with your problem.

It had been four days of you hunting for a place to stay, yet it was all futile. You banged your head on the office desk after returning from lunch, sleep-deprived and hopeless. You had three more days before the landlord would literally kick you out of the complex, not a lot of time. You were so screwed.

After all your vain attempts, you were contemplating whether to actually tell Shikamaru about your housing issue or not. Maybe he could help you find a place with his position in the Council. You sighed, you decided to see how today would go first, maybe you would tell him eventually, soon.

Then you heard a familiar voice approaching your table. It was Shikamaru stopping by your department before making his way to the Hokage’s office, “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi,” you lifted your face and weakly grinned, “on your way to the Hokage?”

He nodded, “You want to go out for dinner tonight?”

“Sure,” you eagerly replied, momentarily forgot about your nagging burden, “I’ve been craving some noodles!”

Shikamaru smiled wide and smoothed your hair, “I’ll come get you at six.”

After he left, your energy was revived as you stretched your arms up above your head and started your afternoon shift. Then you noticed several colleagues snickering behind, “Y/N, you two look so cute together.”

You blushed, suddenly aware that the whole office witnessed your interaction. Another girl continued, “Why don’t you just ask him to let you move in? You guys have been dating for years!”

Biting your inner cheek, you instantly put down her suggestion with a feigned laugh, “I’ll be able to rent one before I’m kicked out. Besides, we are not that ready to live together, you know.” 

Moving with Shikamaru was an option that never crossed your mind. It was not because you did not love him nor the other way around. But it was just that living together would be on a whole new level of intimacy. And to be honest, you were quite reluctant if your boyfriend would think it was fine. You knew for a fact if you were to tell him about your residency situation, he would immediately pull you under his roof, but it would be... forced. So you decided to wait.

You nodded to yourself, assuring that you would be okay. At least, you could stay at Ino’s for several days and cross your fingers that the blonde would not spill a word to your boyfriend, which was nearly impossible. Again, you sighed.

“How was your day?” Shikamaru questioned after you finished your last slurp of noodles.

“Not so tiring,” wiping the corner of your lips with a tissue, you automatically replied, “I’ve contacted an agency already and I’m going to go see their place tomorrow to see what they have to offer... oh...” 

Oh. You blinked, your mouth was faster than your brain. Great.

You hesitantly glanced at him, trying to find an appropriate reason to cover your mistake, “I meant I scheduled a meeting to see the housing choices that they offer.” The more you talked, the quieter you became, stuttering between your words, “It’s not like I’m going to get kicked out soon, no, actually, I just wanted to move to somewhere... ugh... closer to you? Yeah, I wanted to live closer to your place.”

You gulped, hoping that was a decent scapegoat even though you were sure he saw through your lie in an instant.

“Why do you need to live closer to me when you can live with me instead?”

“What?” You were totally bewildered when the words passed his lips, nearly choking on your water, “Did I hear you wrong?”

“I want you to move in with me, Y/N.”

You lowered your head and stared at your hands under the table, they suddenly felt so small, “Are you sure?”

“Do you think I’m not being serious?” Shikamaru took your hands in his, finger pads grazing across your skin.

“That’s not what I meant. It’s just, living together is really... complicated.”

“I've been wanting to tell you this,” he straightened his back and cleared his throat. “Tonight, I, Shikamaru Nara, will take Y/N under his roof, vowing to provide Y/N with an abundance of necessities, including clothes, foods, drinks, free access to a double-sized bed and a bathtub with hot water available at anytime, a perfectly safe shelter and a an intelligent man.” Kami knew he had been practicing the same lines for days not to cringe at the last few words.

You hugged your stomach, laughing at his testament but there were waves of unnamed happiness fluttering deep down, “Why do you sound like a real estate agent trying to lure me to sign a rental contract? And what’s up with the last term?”

He smiled seeing that you had released all the tension he saw in the afternoon, “If you’re still not satisfied, we can amend the contract when you’re officially moved in. By the way, it’s rent-free, you don’t have to worry about any 15% raise.”

Your eyes immediately narrowed as realization dawned upon you, “You knew about the 15% raise?”

He shrugged, “So are you signing the contract?”

Biting your lips, you growled, “So you did know about my struggle for the last few days, huh? And you probably planned this, too! Shikamaru, I swear I w—um...”

Shikamaru quickly pulled you in and captured your lips, “Be quick, I don’t have a lot of patience, dear customer.”

He smirked, his plan finally worked. The truth was he wanted to ask you to move in with him even before the war started but unfortunately, he did not get a chance to do so. After his eyes happened to skim across the budget allocation and saw the name of your complex on the list one week ago with a mention of a 15% raise to restore the infrastructures, a bulb lit in his head. You were not wrong, it was indeed, very well-planned.

You melted in his arms, already decided to say yes but refused to give up on the outside, “When did you know about the raise?”

“You should know I oversee a majority of the budget here, especially during this period.” He deadpanned, “Besides, it doesn’t matter because you have officially signed the contract. You used one of the services.”

“What? I have never said so and I didn’t use any of your services!”

He pointed at his lips, “Do you still remember the last term?”

“That doesn’t count! You took advantage of me!” Your face reddened in embarrassment, shoving him away with a huff, “And why didn’t you tell me anything?”

Shikamaru retreated, scratching his head, “I had to prepare everything before I take you home, sorry for taking so long. I want to make the experience perfect.”

Your eyes softened, “So I guess I can’t no longer back off anymore, yeah?”

A look of confident spread across his features, “And one more thing, if you want to cancel the contract or withdraw or anything, you will be spending the rest of your life stuck, with, me.”

------------------

Taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu​ @thenightfallingstar​

[astaroth1357]

The Obey Me Cast on a Camping Trip (Part One: Brothers)

Hey guys, thank you sooo much for getting me to 2,000 followers!! I honestly don’t know what to say... I never dreamed that this little hobby of mine would reach so many eyes, and I can’t be more grateful. At a time in my life where things feel so chaotic and uncertain, being a part of this community and sharing my weird ideas has been what’s kept me going. It’s been such a rewarding experience all around, so thank you. From the bottom of my heart. 😊

I pulled out all the stops for this post. I even brought out one of my favorite songs of all time: Ao to Natsu by Mrs. GREEN APPLE to get the feel juuust right. I hope you all enjoy it!

This post is split in two due to length (I had too much fun again...) For the Undateables, please click HERE!

Intro:

Another day, another team building activity between the demons and the exchange students. It was Diavolo’s idea to go on a camping trip to the human world (because of course it was), and there were very… mixed responses. That sentiment wasn’t helped when he refused Lucifer’s insistent pleas to just purchase cabins for everyone to stay in. Oh no, the Demon Lord wanted to rough it out in the wilderness, and now everyone else was getting dragged along with him…

Wonder how that turned out?

Lucifer

Really, really, really tried to push Diavolo to just rent out cabins in but noooo, he wasn’t having it... So he ended up driving a van crammed with his brothers, the MC, and a butt-ton of camping equipment into the Alaskan wilderness… 

The car ride itself was insufferable… We’re talking, “I SWEAR I WILL TURN THIS CAR AROUND!!” level of antics every 10 miles or so (mostly from Mammon)…

Setting up camp was even more of a nightmare because about half of his brothers were utterly useless. The other half (save Satan) were completely clueless… Had it not been for Barbatos and Satan he probably would have just resigned himself to the mercy of the river’s currents and let it take him away…

He couldn’t even wear his usual clothes because of the situation… For the first time in who knows how many centuries, he was stuck wearing jeans… Diavolo even bought him several plaid shirts... (which he was not happy with btw because his brother wouldn’t stop making fun of the “new” him)

He had his own tent of decent-size, enough to move around in but nothing to write home about. The very fact he didn’t have to share was a luxury in itself, so he took it for what it was worth...

He spent a good portion of the trip focused on two things: keeping Diavolo happy and everybody else alive. He rarely left camp unless forced to; he just wanted to get it all over with as soon as possible…

If he did leave, it was because Diavolo would drag him along to fish or hike. He was... less than pleased to be called out of his tent at the crack of dawn or well past dusk to sit on a little rented fishing boat with Diavolo… but he didn’t exactly pick his friends so...

He rates the trip Too Much Trouble/10. Let’s never do it again.

Mammon

Wasn’t a massive fan of being stuck out in the wild, but Satan told him some made-up bullshit about buried treasure out in the forest and got him HOOKED. He even borrowed stole a whole bunch of mining/digging equipment just for the occasion!

He spent most of the car ride asking, “Are we there yet??” like a child. The MC had to step in to keep Lucifer from leaving him on the side of the road at multiple points during the journey... 

He was one of the utterly useless ones when it came to setting up camp. Someone charged him with putting up the twin’s tent, and he spent thirty minutes reading (then re-reading) the instructions while shouting expletives. Poor Simeon had to shield Luke from the vulgarity…

He has to share a tent with Levi, which neither of them liked. Mammon mainly because of Levi’s “old fish stink” and Levi because he feared catching “Mammon’s stupid.”

He was all jazzed up to go digging from Day One, though. He’d have breakfast, grab his shovel, then wander out into the middle of nowhere to go dig holes in the ground…

He also got completely lost on Day One, and it took the MC summoning him with their pact to return him to the group... By that time, he was filthy and somehow looked like he had been castaway for days (even though he was gone for like, three hours?)

When he stubbornly refused to stop digging, Lucifer resorted to just tying a rope around his ankle and letting him loose. It was up to Mammon to get back to camp before dinner, or else Lucifer would yank him back like he was on a leash.

Satan waited until the last day to finally tell Mammon the treasure was bullshit, and he was PISSED. He even threw Satan into the river, which resulted in the rest of the brothers joining in for a swim while the two tried to “playfully” drown each other.

He’d rate this trip 0/10 because he didn’t get any buried treasure. What a ripoff…

Leviathan

Hated the idea with a burning, seething passion. There’s no internet, cable, electricity, or phone signal out in the middle of nowhere! How the heck is an otaku supposed to survive?!

He clung to his electronics during the car ride until either they ran out of signal or their battery died, then he didn’t know what to do with himself… He resorted to reading several volumes of the manga he stuffed into his bag and clung to the MC for emotional support…

Yet another useless soul trying to put the camp together. He was in charge of his and Mammon’s tent but ended up almost crying in frustration… How the hell do humans do this all on their own?? Wasn’t he supposed to be the third strongest?! Why is he so pathetic?!? 😫

Hates sharing a tent with Mammon because he always wakes up to the second born encroaching on his space somehow… Poor baby is pretty much directly against the tent wall and STILL has to deal with legs and elbows in his side... 😰

Spends the majority of the trip moping in the tent... If he goes out there, he has to deal with the sun, bugs, and people… No thanks. He only leaves for meals and occasionally to go swimming. 

When he found out part of the way through that Barbs brought portable solar panels and a battery pack for Diavolo and Lucifer’s phones, he was livid. He demanded access to the power source, which Lucifer refused because “It would defeat the purpose of this trip.”

He’d have summoned Lotan right then and there, deadass in the middle of the forest, if the MC hadn’t intervened. He then went back to moping, but now at the bottom of the lake and it took a lot of coaxing to get him back out…

On the final day, he was packing up the camp before anyone else even woke up. He wanted OUT and back to civilization ASAP. Bedroom here he comes!

Satan

You wouldn’t think of Satan as an outdoorsy guy. Still, he has shades of a survivalist in him (mostly because he’s read a lot of guides and was looking for an excuse to use them for a loooong time).

He read for the majority of the ride. He was squished between Asmo and Levi, which was reasonably peaceful. But he did end up shouting at Mammon quite a bit towards the end because “NO, we’re not there yet, peabrain!!”

He actually wasn’t a waste of space when setting up the camp, and between him, Barbs, and Lucifer, they were able to get a lot of stuff set up before sundown. He did have to bark a few orders to the others here and there, but overall competency won out in the end.

He shared a tent with Asmo, and the two made it work well enough… Except when Asmo did things like spraying his perfumes and dry shampoos, making it practically impossible to breathe in for a few minutes…

Spent a lot of the first few days reinforcing the camp to a ridiculous degree.

Did he have to collect large branches to build an exterior fence around the campsite? No. But he did.

Did he have to set up a water distillation system using some of the materials Barbs had lying around the “kitchen?” No. But he did.

Did he have to weave a series of fishing nets to catch them lunch from the lake and river? I think you get the point by now.

Only once he built pretty much every contraption or improvement he could think of, did he go back to just reading and relaxing by the fire.

By the time the group was ready to leave, Satan had somehow managed to craft them a veritable, self-sustaining fortress in the middle of the Alaskan wilds…

Overall he would rate the trip as… meh. Next time give him a challenge like a deserted island or an actual desert, and then he’ll really see what he can do.

Asmodeus

Was about as unhappy with the idea as Levi was… It wasn’t that he disliked the outdoors per se, it was just that no one, NO ONE, pulls off looking flawless after several days stuck in a tent!

He chatted the entire car ride from start to finish. He never stopped talking. It made for decent background noise at least…

Was one of the more clueless ones when trying to set up camp and pretty just did what he was ordered. The second he was left to try and figure something out on his own, he went to Lucifer or Satan for help because NOPE. Human equipment is needlessly complicated sometimes…

He had to share a tent with Satan, which in theory shouldn’t have been that bad, but Satan was out basically all day in the sun doing who knows what and would always come back sweaty and gross! At some points, he had to chase his brother out of the tent until he dunked himself in the river or something. No way was Asmo sleeping next to that. 😤

Asmo took the second-longest to get up and get ready in the morning. Sometimes he wouldn’t even leave the tent until well past breakfast just in an attempt to salvage his hair and skin… He only got grouchier about it as the trip went on… 😥

A more… earthy looking Asmo is kind of a bizarre sight. He’s still attractive, no doubt, but it’s less like polished glamour and more like Hollywood humble. He spent the majority of the trip looking like a somewhat dirtied movie-star (which he still insisted was the worst he’s ever looked in ages).

Aside from salvaging his looks, he actually enjoyed taking pictures of their surroundings or of the group (but not himself). He sometimes forgot how genuinely breathtaking the human world could be…

….but his patience for the place wore out quickly once he started noticing his hair getting greasy. He was right next to Levi, packing up the site once it was finally time to leave. At least those two finally found something they could agree on, let’s get the fuck out already! 

Beelzebub

He was really curious about trying camping food and pretty excited that Barbatos was coming, too (because that meant great food in general).

Unfortunately, Lucifer had to stop the van at basically every gas station they passed for Beel could refill on snacks… Belphie ended up getting buried in wrappers pretty often, but he was asleep, so it didn’t matter much.

Beel did a lot of the heavy lifting when setting the camp up, but the finer details were left up to everybody else. He had his hands full getting stuff off the cars as is…

Of course, he shared a tent with Belphie, and there wasn’t much complaint between them. Honestly, there would have been more drama if they were split, so this was the better option.

After the MC told Beel about fishing and how it could net him more food, if he did it right, he knew exactly what he wanted to do during the trip.

… But no one told him how long and slow the process would be. There were points he’d get so hungry he’d consider eating the bait himself…

That was until about Day Three of the trip when they passed by a river full of grizzly bears… He was about to ask the MC why the bears were all standing in the water, but then he saw a fish practically leap directly into one’s mouth…

Beel had discovered his true calling.

Of course, the grizzlies didn’t take too kindly to a demon suddenly sprinting into the water with them. They tried to fight him off, but Beel just tossed most of them downstream without any issue until they realized who the apex predator really was…

After forming a shaky truce with the bears, Beel would stand in the water for hours then come back with whole baskets full of salmon… There were far more fish than Barbatos knew what to do with, so he’d just confiscate a few then let Beel eat the rest...

The MC shuddered to think about what Beel had done to the local salmon population… But he was full and happy for most of the trip, so he had a great time!

Belphegor

Sleep for him isn’t too contingent on location, so the idea of camping wasn’t terrible. It did sound like a lot of hassle for no good reason, though…

He spent the entire car ride asleep, head and cow pillow pressed up against the window and everything. It wasn’t the most comfortable experience, but he’d dealt with worse.

He was utterly useless when putting up the camp by choice, thank you. He had more than enough sense to get things put together; he just didn’t want to. If he wasn’t asked to do something by Beel or the MC, he’d just lay back in the grass and smugly watch everybody else struggle…

Again, he and Beel are in the same tent, and you wouldn’t hear any complaints out of him. He did start to have some second thoughts when Beel began getting a fishy smell, though, so he tried to bunk with the MC in their tent for a while.

Like Levi, Belphie didn’t leave the tent much during the daylight hours, but that was because he was still asleep… There was no good way to wake him with no alarms available, so he’d sleep in past lunch easily.

When he was awake, he didn’t leave camp very much except to walk with the MC or watch Beel fishing grizzly-style.

Eventually, Asmo and Diavolo got sick of him dodging their photos, so they’d started posing him Weekend at Bernie’s style around the camp (always conveniently propped up by something and with sunglasses on)

Something Belphie did like, however, was the nighttime. Since there were no lights around, he could practically see everything the sky had to offer. He could spend hours laying on his back long after everyone else had gone to bed just admiring the stars.

All in all, not a terrible trip. Anything that could give him that view like that was well worth it. 6/10, would sleep again.

Click HERE for Part Two. Check out my Masterlist for more!

[candychronicles]

red room // y. inasa

A/N: my take on the bnharem sex workers collab! so excited to write for inasa. he’s an incredibly underrated character and all i hope is that one person likes this lol

CHARACTER PAIRING: Yoarashi Inasa x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3,735

WARNINGS: oral (m!receiving), sex work, just some good ol fashioned safe, consensual sex

SYNOPSIS: a lucrative encounter with a group of pro heroes leads to an unlikely relationship.

want to read more goodies? head on over here!

loud music blared over the speakers as you sashayed your way through the back stage. it was a crowded night and you were itching to get on stage and make some money. usually, you got good tips just by shaking your hips in your scantily clad body but the real cash was private events. it was especially rewarding when pro heroes, such as the ones who sat in the private VIP section, joined the club. that was when you made the most dough.

your set was announced and before people could prepare themselves you sauntered on stage, false confidence oozing out of you. you never really loved your job for this aspect, nor did you think you did great in front of a crowd, but you had been faking it your whole life and it came in handy when you walked across the platform, twirling around the sleek metal bar in the center of the stage.

slowly, your gaze raked across the people in the bar, eyes narrowed into slits, a small smirk across your face. you lazily dragged your hand up your body and across your chin, letting it fall to the pole. gripping the metal, you twirled your body around once, twice, three times before jumping up, entwining your legs around it and letting your head fall back, hair cascading towards the floor. you spent the next five minutes tantalizingly moving about the area. slinking to the floor towards the end of your set, you pushed your breasts together as you tucked the tips from the greedy men in between them, sliding the rest in the waist of your sequined panties. with one small wave, you pulled yourself off the ground and sauntered back behind the stage.

it had only been a few minutes of you counting your money in the dressing room before one of the bar maids had flagged you down, letting you know one of the VIP sections was asking for you. a cheshire grin made its way across your face as you realized that this could be the big money you were after for the night.

“well hello boys, how are we tonight?” you cooed, sliding into the seat next to a rather uncomfortable looking guy with striking red and white hair.

a man of intensely large stature sat in the middle, a few older men surrounding him in the semi-circle booth. across from you sat another guy your age: tall with buzzed hair and looking as equally uncomfortable as the man sitting next to you.

“we were very intrigued by your performance,” the large man in the middle stated. when he leaned forward, you recognized him as the former number one pro hero Endeavor. despite his size, you weren’t intimidated. you may have not had a lot of confidence with large crowds, but when it came to working a group, you could get them wrapped around your finger with a little bat of your eyelashes.

this collective was no different than the rest. a few jokes to the ones who were uncomfortable, chagrin smiles to the ones who just wanted some entertainment and some well placed compliments and they were putty in your hands. Endeavor spent most of the time sloshing his drink around and bragging about his accomplishments back in the day. you had found out that the guy sitting next to you was his son and they did not seem to get along very well. while you had spent time verbally praising the former number one hero, you secretly whispered jokes and jabs to the dynamic man next to you, allowing him to loosen up and even smile. 

when the session had finished, you were tipped heavily. some sloppy cheek kisses were exchanged and you had thought that had been the end of it, a thick wad of cash in your hands, when Endeavor had spoken up once more.

“Inasa, you haven’t said one word to this pretty young lady. she’s spent her time here all for us and you disrespect her like this?” he chided, but his words were laced with something else, something sharp.

“a private room might change your mind, perhaps? you’ve barely looked at anyone here or even touched your drink. i suggest you change your act after this is over.”

you felt bad for the fellow, you really did, but when Endeavor, Enji, he told you to call him, pulled out a stack so large you didn’t even know if you could fit your hand around it, you accepted immediately. you were going to make sure he had the time of his life one way or another.

you placed your hand gently on his shoulder and he jumped, his skin crawling underneath your touch. you didn’t let it phase you though as you guided him towards the private room, your hand coming to clasp around his, twirling yourself as you giggled. he looked like he was going to be sick, face clammy and eyes darting everywhere but your body. 

when you had finally sat him down in the cushy couch, he burst.

“i’m so sorry miss, i’m trying really hard to be respectful and not look at you. i’m not interested in this at all, so if you could please just let me go, i’d really appreciate it.”

you blinked at him, cocking your head before howling, hands clutching at your stomach as you listened to him continue to babble.

“are you not into women? it’s okay if you’re not, i’m happy to sit here but your friend paid a great amount of money for you to be in here and if i want to keep getting that money i have to at least do my job and make you stay the full hour.”

“oh no no that’s not it at all. in fact, i find you very attractive. i just, i don’t like these sorts of establishments. not that they’re bad in any way, oh no, your profession is quite admirable, it’s just that i prefer to have a connection before engaging in anything flirtatious and physical. though i have been told that it is easy for me to make friends and i guess that’s true, so maybe we will be friends by the end of this and it won’t be a total waste, but it’s…”

you cut him off with your hand, flabbergasted at his ramblings.

“i’m happy to just talk and i’m happy to make friends. so tell me about yourself then.”

you sat down opposite him, sinking into the soft plush as you listened to him ramble about his life: where he went to school, when he met Shouto Todoroki, how he became a pro hero, how he landed the job at Endeavor’s agency and how he had ended up across from you in the burgundy room. you listened with rapt attention, nodding sympathetically when he expressed struggles, giving little whoops and cheers when he explained his victories and just generally murmuring along to his story. 

when the time was up, you stood up and walked over to him.

“is it okay if i sit down?” you questioned, motioning to his lap. 

he looked you up and down as if you had three heads but leaned back, palms placed firmly on the plush seating. you giggled at his actions but proceeded nonetheless, popping buttons open on his shirt, rustling up his clothes and placing a big kiss on his cheek for good measure.

“don’t want your boss thinking you chickened out on him,” you teased. “it was great meeting you Inasa. it’s not every day i get a gentleman as kind as you coming in. i do hope i get to see you again, if only to listen to more of your stories. take care of yourself and stay safe.”

you stood up and opened the door, motioning for him to step out and walk down the hall back to his booth. he watched you for a moment, enraptured by your actions, before he quickly turned around and practically sprinted down the hall. you heard the whoops and hollers of the men as he returned back to his seat and you smiled, satisfied with the heavy weight of cash in your hand. 

---

the next night of working started out the same. a few sets with some decent tips, but you had little luck when it had come to private dances and you greatly missed the generous tips from the booth the night before. just when you had thought luck ran out for you though, a familiar buzzed head darted nervously around, seemingly looking for someone.

“are you lost handsome? never thought i’d see you here again, let alone so soon.”

relief flooded his eyes and before you got a chance to tease him for it, he had pulled out a stack of money equally as large as the night before.

“you know you don’t have to pay me that much for an hour.”

“will this cover the rest of the night?” 

you didn’t even have to look at the stack to know it would cover a whole week's worth of private dances if he wanted. wordlessly, you took the money from him and led him to your private room. this time you brought in snacks and drinks, choosing to sit on the lavish carpet instead, cocooning yourself with pillows.

“so what do you want to talk about this time?” you asked, spurring him on to talk about his latest adventures.

things took a turn for the worst when, an hour in, he became visibly upset.

“i feel like this is wrong,” he confessed, eyes darting to scantily clad figure, teeth clenching as he attempted to calm himself.

“this is my work. i don’t feel degraded, i feel empowered. people are paying me for my services, whether they be innocent or not. i choose what i get to do with my body and how. nobody else can control me. i’m happy to be anything to anyone and i must confess that talking to you has been the highlight of both nights. it’s a gentle reprieve from everything else but at the end of the day this is a job and i don’t feel demeaned by it, so please don’t treat me like i’m some abused puppy.”

after that argument, his body visibly relaxed. it didn’t really matter exactly what made him relax but it did lead to a much more enjoyable night. when everything was over, you left him with a kiss, pinching his cheeks with your hand as you led him out for the second night in a row.

you had a day off, choosing to enjoy your excess money by splurging on some new items you wanted but when you came in the next day, he was there waiting, a wad of cash in one hand and a bag of something in the other.

“a private room for the whole night?” you questioned, not waiting for his response as you took the cash out of his hand and grabbed his tie, leading him to your room once more.

when he sat down across from you, he pulled out his own snacks and drinks, claiming he needed to pay you back for the night before. you shrugged your shoulders as you dug in, chatting the night away, laughing and enjoying yourself much more than you should for him just being a client. 

“Inasa, while i don’t mind you spending exorbitant amounts of money on me every night, i’ve got to ask, why are you here? why do you come just to chat all night? do you not have friends or family?”

his eyebrows furrowed, mouth forming a harsh line before he stated, “i do but nobody treats me the way you do. nobody treats me like i’m, well, nobody. i don’t claim to be the number one pro hero, but i am fairly popular, and the fact that you sit across from me chatting and listening to my stories like i’m an old friend and not some big shot with money makes me feel different.”

you pondered the thought for a moment, not realizing how taxing it could be to have so many eyes on you all at once. while you felt sympathetic, you still didn’t understand why he paid you so much for just one night. was he afraid you wouldn’t accept the normal rate? was he trying to remain professional despite the lines already being blurred?

“listen, Inasa, while I don’t mind you doing this, we can be friends outside of work. you don’t have to pay me for just talking, at least while i’m not here. this is my job and i’d like it to remain somewhat professional. i won’t be leaving for any person, any relationship, any amount of money, because i find dignity and excitement in doing so. if that’s something that doesn’t bother you, then let’s finish the night off and if you’d like to see me, we can go get coffee or something, yeah? the most i’ll let you pay is for the drinks themselves.”

he nodded his head firmly, agreeing to see you for coffee, but something seemed off still. you tried to keep the conversation going, throwing candy at his face and cracking jokes but he remained somewhat stoic still.

“alright buttercup, what’s wrong?” you questioned, frowning when he looked up at you.

“you find dignity in this job, it doesn’t bother you to be sexual with someone in any manner for a certain price, and you don’t look down on anyone who engages with you sexually?”

you nodded your head at his questions, looking at him quizzically as he processed the information.

“would you look down on me if i asked you for something like that?”

ah, so that was the big question. it would take a fool for someone to not realize how he had looked at you, how his gazes got more bold and as he shifted, holding a pillow in his lap as you laid lavishly across the fluffy carpet. you felt stupid for not realizing sooner that that was what he wanted, but with a satisfied smile, you shook your head no. 

“it’s my job and you are my client. you have paid me well, way more than i would ask for anything like this. i don’t see it as weird or uncomfortable. we do have some ground rules to lay if you’re interested though.”

you spent the next few minutes explaining safe sex, STDs, condoms, rules and boundaries for the scene and safe words in case anything got out of hand. he sat listening with rapt attention, soaking in every word you said and engaging in the conversation maturely and respectfully. when everything was said and done, you pulled out your contract, having him sign, agreeing with all that you had said.

“i don’t know if i can do this. i feel like this is wrong. not because you do but because i like you and i know this is just a job for you and wow i shouldn’t have done this.”

“relax Inasa, i’ll take care of you. and if it gets too much, don’t forget to use your safeword.”

he clenched the seat next to him as you straddled his lap, taking his face into your hands as you etched all the little scars littering the skin. 

“it’s not every day i get to fuck a handsome guy like yourself,” you cooed. “is it okay if i kiss you? i don’t usually do that with clients but i think you’re an exception to the rule.”

he responded by surging forward, all inhibitions lost as his lips smashed into yours, hands reaching to pull you impossibly close to him. you squealed into the kiss but relished in the way he felt, the way his large body engulfed all your senses. you were definitely screwed, not only literally but mentally as well. you knew damn well that this was more than a client interaction and would lead to something potentially messy but right now you didn’t seem to care as you felt his hands grasp at your ass, squeezing and eliciting yet another moan from you. this time, he took advantage, his tongue delving into your mouth, exploring every inch of you.

“i need you Inasa,” you moaned, partially because it was true but also to spur him on, to continue to make him feel confident and satisfied. 

“let me take care of you first,” he tried to insist, eyes blown wide at your lewd words, but you had other plans.

you shimmied out of your panties, sequins glittering in the dim red light, tossing them to the other side of the room before motioning for him to stand up, asking permission to take off his pants. when he nodded his head, you chided him, reminding him to use his words. all it took was a squeak of a “yes” for you to slowly pull his pants and boxers down, mouth absolutely drooling at the sight of his cock. he wasn’t the longest you had by any means but he was so incredibly thick you weren’t even sure if he could fit inside, but all you knew was that you wanted to be stuffed full.

you pushed him back onto the couch, dropping to your knees as you settled yourself between his thighs, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin. before you even had a chance to ask him if you could touch him, he was already begging, hand gently placed on your head as he struggled to remain calm. 

you spent a few moments just admiring the way he breathed, how he moved, what got him twitching, before you began. a soft lick was placed on the underside of his shaft and he jumped, startled yet aroused at the soft feeling of your tongue on his dick. you licked once more, enjoying the way he reacted, before you took him fully into your mouth. he felt warm and heavy on your tongue and you did your best to take him all in, using your hand to pump the rest of him. 

a languid pace was set, you appreciating the way he reacted to your touch but it wasn’t long before he was begging for more, his release being teased. you complied, wanting nothing more than to keep the customer happy, or so you told yourself. in reality, you were enjoying this much more than you could possibly explain.

it took only a few more minutes before he was bucking his hips into your mouth, spurting hot liquid down your throat. you swallowed every drop, sticking your tongue out to show him what you had done. he spent the next five minutes apologizing for not asking permission before doing that but you had shut him up by straddling his lap, your pussy grazing over his already hard again cock.

“want you s’bad Inasa. won’t you fuck me please?” 

he sputtered and stammered, not believing this was happening but complying all the same. he quickly grabbed the condom and rolled it down on his shaft, careful not to rip anything. he slowly lifted you up before placing you down on his cock, enjoying the feeling of you sucking him in immediately. 

it took an agonizing three minutes before he bottomed out. he had stretched you completely, filling you to the brim with his cock. you felt like you were going to burst at the seams with how full you were but it also felt so incredibly good.

“please move, wanna feel you inside of me,” you begged, throwing your head back and bouncing on your knees.

he complied once again without question, thrusting his hips up to meet your pace, setting a fast yet gentle tone to the scene. you gripped his shoulders with all your strength, attempting to steady yourself against his speed. moans and whines left your mouth at an obscene rate, your brain being fucked out of your body as he continued to stuff you over and over again.

when he realized he was close yet again, he licked his thumb before placing it experimentally against your clit. you bucked immediately into his touch, keening at the overwhelming sensation. setting a rate that matched his thrusts, he circled around the bud, applying just the right pressure to have tears leaking out of your eyes, feeling so overwhelmed by sensation of him and him alone.

“please, i want to cum, please,” you begged, this time putty in his hands as he continued to fuck you senseless.

“cum for me, please, i want to see it, want to see your pretty face as i make you cum.”

all it took was some added speed and pressure and a gentle grab to your chin with his other hand to have you come undone, eyes screwing shut as an intense wave of pleasure rushed over your body. he sputtered and thrusted a few more times before coming in the condom, his body instantly relaxing. 

he spent the next few minutes bringing you down from your high, rubbing soothing circles on your back, having you drink some water and cleaning you from your own juices which were dribbling down your thighs. when he was finished, he pulled back on your underwear, careful of your now sore and throbbing cunt.

sitting down on the couch, you spread out, completely spent from just one fuck. never in your life had you had dick that good, the sheer care and intensity at which he screwed you sending you reeling as you tried to wrap your head around what had just happened.

looking at the clock, you realized his time was up. despite not wanting to see him go, you had to admit to yourself that you had a fun time and that this was something outside of a workplace situation. 

“i-uh, your time is up now Inasa. i hope you had fun and had a satisfactory experience.”

“i did, a lot.”

“i hope to see you again soon,” you finally admitted, bringing your eyes up to stare at him, at his truly disheveled yet satisfied state. you didn’t want to get your hopes up, knowing that he paid for this and it was strictly professional, but when he uttered a question, you smiled, hoping that this would turn out to be an interesting time.

“so, uh, coffee soon?” 

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 10

I’m sorry its taken me so long to update. I haven't had much time to write lately due to....well, life. But here we are and its long, so hopefully that makes up for the length. 

Side note- the Norwegian used is from Google translate so....

Warnings: swearing, mild sexual content, Lothbrok family dynamics (yes, its a warning), threats of violence

Words: 15,700 (yep, my longest chapter yet. I packed ALOT into this beast)

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius @evelynshelby @pomegranates-and-blood @heavenly1927 @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls @love-all-things-writing @southernbe @ecarroll1978 @breezykpop @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie​

Series Masterlist

"Where are we going? I thought we were going to your flat?" 

 Gyda slyly smiled at Kari, sitting in the passenger seat of her bright yellow Porsche. "Change of plans."

 Kari stared at her friend. "I'm scared to ask."

 "Torvi asked for female reinforcement. So, we are going to keep her company."

 "Ok…. But where is that?" 

 "At the brothers' house." The blonde answered nonchalantly as she made a quick right-hand turn. "It's tradition. Kind of a last family summer party before it's too cold to swim anymore. They have a pool in their backyard."

 Kari felt her stomach drop. Ivar had told her he lived with his three other brothers. Gyda had her own flat while Bjorn and Torvi owned a house nearby. Whenever she tried to ask Ivar about his home, he would shrug off the question or ignore it completely. Eventually she just stopped asking. Curiosity certainly reared its head when she wondered what his home was like. For how much money meant nothing to him, she guessed it was massive and expensive. Maybe he knew she would not fit in and that was why he never brought her? Even through his speeches of wanting her to be his girlfriend, he knew she would not fit into his lifestyle. Why else would he keep her away? It was a valid truth that she had come to terms with. Even if she found herself secretly desperate to ease into his life, she never would. 

 "Of course, they do…." Kari rolled her eyes at the notion that obviously, there was a pool in their backyard. It fit the stereotype in her mind. Then she thought about what Gyda just said. "Wait. Do you have a swimsuit with you?"

 Gyda raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow at her while keeping her eyes on the road. "Don't worry, I've got you covered. Torvi brought an extra of hers for you."

 "You had this planned, didn't you? We never were going to your flat, were we?"

 "I don't kiss and tell."

 "Yes, you do. There was that guy you hooked up with two weeks ago that kept sending you dick pics after."

 "That guy was way too proud of his dick. I mean it wasn't even that big."

 "I don't want to hear this again." Kari groaned, tugging on her diamond earring. She enjoyed Gyda but she had learned far more about the woman's sex life than she had any desire to know. 

 "Okay, fine. And yes, Torvi and I planned this. Ivar doesn't know you're coming."

 "Why?"

 Gyda smirked. "Because he's been so secretive and only Hvitserk has seen you two together. Besides, the rest of the brothers want to meet you. We may be at each other's throats most of the time but we do care for one another."

 The brunette let her friend's words sink in. Hvitserk had mentioned the others wanting to meet her, but she had not fully believed it. Sure, she wanted to meet them and was curious after hearing Ivar talk about them, but why would they be interested in her? She glanced down at her clothes, the capri leggings and tank top that were practically a signature look for her. For once, she wished she dressed nicer regularly. "I wish you had said something before."

 "You wouldn't have come then. You'd have created some excuse why you couldn't come." Gyda pointed out the obviously painful truth without remorse. 

 Kari slouched in the passenger seat, butterflies doing somersaults in her belly. Slowly, she pulled her ponytail down, letting her hair hang loose past her shoulders, running her hand through it absent-mindedly in hopes it looked decent. 

 At a red light, Gyda looked over at her with a bright smile. "It'll be fun." 

 "I don't know…. isn’t it supposed to be just family?"

 "Ubbe sometimes brings his girlfriend but yeah, it's usually just family."

 There was another long silence before Kari spoke again, unable to fully conceal her nerves. "You should drop me off and just go. I don't want to intrude."

 "You're not. I'm bringing you because there is always way too much testosterone." Gyda groaned, then reached over and swatted Kari's leg. "What are you so worried about?"

 "What if they don't like me?" She whispered. The weight of her confession hung over her like a dark cloud. 

 "What?"

 She kept her gaze out the window. "The…. the others. What if they don't like me?"

 Gyda laughed. "Kari, don't worry. They will love you. I promise. And if they say anything fucking stupid, I'll slap them or Ivar will stab them. See? Simple."

 A smile grew on Kari's face. "That shouldn't make me feel better…. but for some reason it does." Maybe she had already spent too much time with various Lothbroks if the idea of people resorting to violence made her feel better. 

 "You aren't alone, if anything we'll steal Torvi and Asa away and have a girls' party."

 "Asa? That's her daughter, right?"

 "Right, and Hali is her son. I swear that boy is going to be a miniature version of Bjorn."

 "I've never been around kids much." 

 Gyda chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. "They are great, Asa is a sweetie who prefers to cuddle in someone's lap. It's Hali who is a bit wild but all his uncles love to play with him. He'll probably be swimming in the pool the whole time anyway."

 Still staring out the window, Kari thought about everything Gyda had said. Of course, she was still nervous about just showing up to a family event unannounced, even if she was sort of being kidnapped by Gyda. Some of her nerves faded away with the knowledge that Gyda and Torvi both wanted her there. She really would not be alone. She had friends. She had people that wanted to spend time with her. Hopefully Ivar would be pleased to see her. His potential reaction was the only real wrinkle in her fluctuating confidence. 

 "Okay. I can do this." She said aloud, wondering if she was trying to fully convince herself. 

 "Good, cause we're almost there."

 Kari stared out the window as they approached a gated community. Gyda showed her ID to a guard who chatted with her like they were old friends. As the yellow Porsche drove by the houses in the community, Kari just stared in awe. She had seen houses, mansions was a better term, like these before but it always amazed her that people lived in them. What did they do with all that space? All of the homes were set back from the road so Kari only caught glimpses of them but it was enough to remind her how out of her element she was. 

 Finally, they pulled up a long driveway to a massive two-story house. It was white with an insane number of windows, and a huge garage attached on the left side. On the right side looked like an expansive addition that made Kari wonder why they needed more space. The roof was made of some slate gray tiles, with a balcony above the front door and ivy draping elegantly over the corners. There were various sized potted plants and shrubbery around the front of the house and leading down the sides. Several European beech trees were strategically placed in the front yard to block most of the view from the road in an attempt at privacy. Whoever the grounds keeper was, for surely they had one, needed a raise. 

 Kari could only gape for a long moment, unable to move as she took in the immaculate, beautiful house. To think this was where Ivar lived and he always came over to her tiny townhouse. It was a struggle to tamper down the post embarrassment. 

 Gyda started talking as she parked in front of the house. The only other vehicle in sight was a silver four-door Audi, that Kari recognized as Torvi's. "Aslaug chose the house for them. When she isn't traveling for work or staying at their family home in Norway, this is where she stays. So, she insisted on this place. Something about the natural sunlight and old aesthetic blending with the new vibe. Or some other shit. I can't remember."

 "Huh." Kari said as she followed the blonde out of the car. She noticed there was no mention of the father, Ragnar, and wondered where he stayed but knew it was none of her business so she kept her question to herself. Maybe Ivar would explain it to her. 

 Gyda opened the solid, wood front door, waltzing in like she had done this a million times. Kari took two steps in and froze. The vaulted ceiling in the foyer was enough to stare at but it was the large chandelier that caused her to stare. The way it caught the afternoon light through the many windows and gently cast it about was truly gorgeous. This view was worth owning the house for itself, in her opinion. 

 A tugging on her arm made Kari squeak as she found herself suddenly being dragged along like a ragdoll. 

 "You can stare later, Torvi is waiting for us." Gyda stated, a large purse over her shoulder and her heeled boots clicking on the shiny, wood floor with each step. 

 Kari caught glimpses of other rooms as they passed down the long, straight hallway. A living room with a TV that took up most of the wall it was on. A kitchen that would make any celebrity chef drool. Pictures and awards displayed along the walls in the hallway that were obviously put up by their mother.  

 The two finally stepped out into a room with glass walls, where the pool and expansive backyard lay before them. Most likely what used to be a porch before being enclosed. Still being pulled along, Kari followed Gyda through a side door onto the stamped concrete that surrounded the pool and lounge area. A pool in a rectangle shape dominated the area, a diving board on the far end. A quick glance around showed a jacuzzi on the other side, closer to the house, the water bubbling like a cauldron. There was a large grill, several short tables and lounge chairs spread over the stamped concrete. At the far end was an adult size statue of the Buddha with two flowering pots on either side of him and some kind of cheap, plastic crown on his head. 

 The backyard was several acres wide and at least that many in length. Trees and large shrubs blocked the views of the neighbor's properties and made the place feel almost like a hidden oasis. Further down in a corner was a lovely gazebo with a cobbled stone path leading to it and gardens decorating the way. 

 "Gyda! What took you so long?!" A distinctly male voice called out. 

 "I had to pick up a package." She called back, pulling Kari into full view of the others. 

 The brunette gave a small, self-conscious smile at the many pairs of eyes that she could feel land on her. Before she could really get a good look at who was around, a shout of her name startled her. 

 "Kari!" Hvitserk jumped up from his lounge chair, wearing only dark green swim trunks, and walked over to her with a beaming smile. 

 "Hey…. OH!" She started to greet him only to be swallowed into a hug and spun in a circle. Unable to deny him, she hugged him back and laughed. It was funny since last time she saw him, he was in business attire, coming to check on her per Ivar's instructions. Now she could not help but notice his toned body. His form reminded her more of a runner, while she was used to seeing Ivar's muscular torso. A couple tattoos on Hvitserk caught her eye and she wondered if all the brothers had them. 

 When he finally set her back on her feet, he kept his hands on her shoulders, green eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. "I didn't know you were coming here."

 "Yeah, I didn't know either until Gyda told me on the way."

 He chuckled, glancing over her head to his half-sister. "Yeah, not surprising."

 "Uh huh. Watch yourself, boy. I could still beat your ass if I wanted too." Gyda quipped. 

 "Maybe fifteen years ago. You don't have a chance now."

 "Keep telling yourself that, Hvitty." She teased, then yelled at Torvi. "You got it?"

 As soon as Kari was released by Hvitserk, she could sense a pair of sharp, blue eyes boring into her. Skin prickling under the sensation, she hesitantly looked up and immediately met Ivar's intense gaze right away, as if subconsciously her mind already knew where he was without having to search for him. 

 Reclined back on a cushioned, lounge beach chair, he wore loose black sweatpants, instead of swim trunks, under his leg braces, but without a shirt. His tattoos were a stark contrast on his skin and shamelessly on full display. Her fingers twitched with the urge to trace them again. It was his penetrating gaze though, the lack of emotion on his handsome face, that made her wonder if being here was a bad idea. 

 Before she could make a run for it, Gyda grabbed her arm as if sensing her desire to flee. "C'mon, let's get changed."

 With one last glance at Ivar, she followed behind Gyda and Torvi, who had joined them, back into the massive house. They headed to the kitchen and Gyda pointed out a bathroom across the way. 

 Placing the beach bag on the kitchen counter, Torvi dug in it for a moment before murmuring a quiet "here it is" and handed Kari something. "Here. I bought this forever ago but never wore it. Bjorn said he didn't like the colors."

 Kari took it, guessing it was the promised swimsuit, and peeked down at the two pieces of clothing in her hands. "Um…. where’s the rest of it?"

 Laughing, Gyda rolled her eyes. "Get in there and change or I'll do it for you."

 With a concerned look between the swimsuit in her hands and the two blondes staring at her expectantly, Kari finally conceded defeat and stepped into the bathroom. It was only a half bath, with a toilet and sink, but it was still roomy and felt fancy somehow. The mirror above the sink was large and there was a small, pretty flowering plant on the counter that upon inspection, turned out to be real. 

 Quickly, she changed out of her leggings and tank top and into the swimsuit, figuring it was best that way, like ripping off a band-aid. Plus, if she stopped moving, her nerves would get the better of her and she would somehow find a way to sneak home. Even if she had to crawl through a window. A smile grew on her face remembering Hvitserk's enthusiasm to see her. That had honestly surprised her but she found she did not mind. Hvitserk seemed like a good guy and the little bit of time they had spent together, she felt comfortable with him. He was funny and caring. 

 Then Ivar's blank face came to mind and all of her excitement slipped away like water down a drain. There had been no acknowledgement, not even the hint of a smile, only a hard stare that made her anxious and self-conscious.  

 Taking a deep breath, she tried to remind herself what Gyda said. At least the two Lothbrok women wanted her here, and apparently Hvitserk was happy to see her. That was what she needed to focus on and not Ivar's reaction.

 Once done changing, she finally took stock of what Torvi had leant her and gasped.  

 "Oh no. No, no, no. Hell no."

 She stared down at the wide-band bikini. The top and bottom both had alternating white and light pink stripes, strangely reminding her of cotton candy. The design was certainly something she would never pick out for herself but she did not hate it. The real problem was the way half her ass cheeks hung out of the bottoms and more of her breasts saw the light of day than they ever had before. Never had she been so exposed. Even swimsuits she bought in the past were never this revealing. Her gaze immediately zeroed in on her fuller hips and thighs, fully exposed. Faint whispers that sounded like her mother's taunts echoed in the recesses of her mind as she stared at herself. There was no way she could go out in this. She would rather wear her leggings and tank top than have anyone see her wearing this. They would all laugh at her. 

 "Kari? You done yet?" Torvi called through the door. 

 "I'm…. I’m not coming out in this!" 

 "Let us see it first!" Gyda shot back. 

 "But…." Kari tried once again, unsuccessfully, to tuck her breasts into the bikini top. "It's padded!" 

 "Open this door, Kari." Gyda demanded, suddenly sounding closer. 

 She took one more look at herself, feeling the embarrassed tears welling in her eyes. With a deep breath, knowing she could not escape Gyda just yet, she opened the door. Immediately her blue-green eyes scanned to make sure it was only Gyda and Torvi in the kitchen before she further opened the door so they could see. 

 "Shit, Kari, you look great." Gyda said after giving a wolf whistle. 

 "Half of my butt is hanging out and most of my boobs. I can't wear this out there." She said, almost panicking now. 

 "No, they aren't, you're overexaggerating."

 "Kari," Torvi said kindly, drawing the brunette's frenzied attention, "you're more curvy than I am and let's be honest, your ass and tits are bigger than mine. I'd kill to have a body like yours. You look beautiful. But if you're uncomfortable, I think I have a cover you can wear over it."

 "Please." She replied softly, hating how she sounded like a fearful child.  

 Torvi smiled at her. "I'll be right back."

 Swiftly, Kari stepped back into the bathroom before Gyda could say anything. Her nerves felt alight and not in a good way. Grabbing her phone, she scrolled through her Pinterest, anything to distract herself from this nightmare. If it was just Gyda and Torvi seeing her in this, she might have been uncomfortable but she could tolerate it. Even with Ivar she might have shied away some but he always made her feel so desirable that she doubted her nerves would have lasted long. It was the thought of prancing around in this in front of the other brothers, men she had never met, that made her stomach twist into knots and her breathing quicken painfully. 

 Finally, a gentle knock on the door and a quiet, "It's me," had Kari open it to take the cover from Torvi. It was a solid white oversized V-neck cover with a simple pattern around the neckline. Without wasting a moment, she slipped it on over the bikini, immediately feeling better. The hem of the cover touched the tops of her thighs, higher than she would have liked, but it was better than before. 

 She looked up, running her hands over the cover. "Thank you." 

 Torvi smiled softly with understanding. "I understand. I don't wear swimsuits that show my stomach anymore. Stretch marks." She shrugged casually, moving back to slip onto an island stool. 

 Kari trailed behind her with her bundle of clothes and purse. Without a word, Gyda slipped into the bathroom to change, leaving the other two waiting for her. It was now that Kari really took note of Torvi's swimsuit; it was a classy black and white one piece with thin crisscross straps across the back. The blonde could easily wear a bikini and look amazing in it, but it made Kari feel marginally better that she was not the only one self-conscious about her body. Perhaps that was why Torvi shared about her stretch marks?

 "Is it…." Kari started then stopped, leaning against the black marble countertop. Surveying the grand kitchen for a second, hoping to gather her thoughts, she took a deep breath before continuing. "Is it okay that I'm here? Gyda said this is a family event and I don't want to intrude."

 Torvi turned to face her fully, green eyes gazing at her before she shrugged again. "Normally we try to keep it just family, Ubbe sometimes brings Margrethe, but I doubt anyone will be upset you're here. Honestly, the brothers keep asking about you, so now maybe they will finally shut up and stop teasing Ivar."

 Kari fiddled with the hem of the swimsuit cover. "He didn't seem happy to see me."

 "Ivar?" At Kari's nod, Torvi snorted. "I don't think it's you he's upset with. He's a very private person, as I'm sure you know. If I took a guess, I'd say he was keeping you hidden."

 "But why?"

 "Look, I've known the Lothbroks for about ten years and during that time, I've seen Ivar go through some ups and downs…. well, as much as he lets anyone see. I mostly heard it from Bjorn. Point is, he's allowing you into his inner circle. Hell, you're probably at the center of his inner circle. I saw how he acted with you at the yoga studio. You mean something to him. It's no secret he wants you to be his girlfriend. Maybe he is worried that you'll meet his family and decide we're too much or that you find one of his brothers more attractive or easier to deal with? He pretends to be super confident but it wouldn't be the first time that a woman chose one of the others over him."

 Every time Kari heard that, her heart broke once again for Ivar. How many times had he been overlooked because of his legs? Or his harsh demeanor? Something that she was beginning to realize was just to protect himself, to keep others at arm's length. It made her want to hug him and never let him go, to remind him he was more than just his disability. That he was worth being cared about by more than just family. 

 Kari must have been lost in her thoughts for longer than she realized. Suddenly she was drawn out of her inner musings by Gyda coming out of the bathroom, having changed into a plant print cutout tankini. Of course, looking like she just stepped out of a magazine cover. There had to be something in the Lothbrok blood for everyone to be this damn attractive. 

 "Are we ready?" She asked, her large bag in hand, presumably with her clothes in it. "Kari, you can put your stuff in here for now."

 Torvi touched Kari's shoulder. "Don't worry. If anything, you are here to keep me and Gyda company, okay?"

 Kari smiled, finding herself reassured and grateful for the two women. "Thanks." She slipped her clothes and shoes into Gyda's bottomless bag. They stashed their bags in the glass room and then headed back out into the backyard. 

 Soon as they stepped out, a little girl came running over. Torvi swept her up into her arms gracefully. She turned to Kari with the little blonde girl on her hip. "This is Asa. How old are you, Asa?"

 The little girl stared at her mom before shyly tucking her face into the crook of Torvi's neck, while her blue eyes stayed on Kari. After a moment, she held up two fingers. 

 "You're two?" Kari asked. When the little girl shyly nodded, Kari's smile widened. "I wish I was that old. It's nice to meet you, Asa. I'm Kari."

 Torvi pressed a quick kiss to the top of her daughter's head. "Did daddy let you play in the pool yet?"

 Asa shook her head. 

 "Alright, let's go kick his butt. He did promise, didn't he?"

 That made the little girl giggle and Kari could feel her heart melting slightly. She was just too cute and most likely spoiled by all her uncles. Even her swimsuit was a purple halter top and green bottom with a little skirt that was very The Little Mermaid-esque.  

 A happy scream followed by a splash drew Kari's gaze to the pool. A young boy resurfaced laughing loudly. Bjorn, she recognized, was in the pool also, but turned to look up at Torvi as she approached with Asa on her hip. 

 "Let's go sit down." Gyda slipped her arm through Kari's and pulled her along to where there was a grouping of lounge chairs. Ivar, Hvitserk and a curly-haired blond reclined with beers in hand. 

 Kari could feel Ivar's gaze tracing over her form as she approached, like fingers trailing over her skin leaving a fire in its wake. She sneaked a peek at him, only to find his ardent gaze on her. She blushed and kept her eyes downward. At least he did not look impassive anymore, but she still felt hesitant. 

 "Hey boys. What are we drinking this time?" Gyda questioned. 

 Hvitserk turned the beer bottle to show the label. 

 "Ew. I don't why you drink that shit. I'm going to get some wine. Kari, you want some?"

 "Ah, sure." She murmured.

 "Good. You boys be nice to my friend, especially you Ivar." With that Gyda walked back towards the house but not before giving Kari a subtle wink.

 "Take a seat, Kari." Hvitserk gestured to an open chair next to him. 

 For a split second she considered slinking into the seat, anything for the attention to be taken off her, but realized that was not what she actually wanted. It had been two days since she had seen Ivar and the last time they hung out, it was when he returned from his trip to Italy. He had picked her up the next day to take her out to eat but he ended up spending the majority of the time on his phone, yelling into it in a foreign language and seeming on the verge of throwing his phone or punching a wall. She ended up ordering take-out for them that they ate at her townhouse but he was too wired to really relax and left soon after. The next two days he had been busy with work so they could only text. The one time they managed to Face-Time, she could not help but notice his bruised knuckles and when she asked him about them, he said he did some boxing to release stress. 

 With butterflies doing somersaults in her belly, she took a step closer to stand near Ivar's lounge chair. Tugging on the hem of her cover as she quietly spoke. "Hey, Ivar. Can I sit with you?"

 "Oh, you're acknowledging me now?" He snapped, never removing his severe blue eyes off of her.  

 She blinked owlishly, surprised by his sharp tone. Her stomach dropped to her feet and she could feel an embarrassed flush rising on her cheeks. "Yeah, I'm sorry." She whispered, dropping her chin, unable to meet his eyes anymore. This was all a mistake, she knew it. This only sealed her poor decision. 

 Shifting to look back at the house, she wondered if she should find Gyda and beg to drive her back home, or if she should find the closest bus stop. Before she could take a step away, a calloused hand snatched hers in a firm grip. Startled, she looked down to see Ivar holding her hand. Her eyes jumped up to stare at him in shock, confused by his conflicting actions. In those vivid, expressive eyes she could easily read the regret in them. Without her conscious decision, her heart softened. 

 "Sit." He said quietly, what most likely meant to come out commanding but sounded more as a plea. She nodded and allowed him to guide her onto the wide lounge chair next to him. 

 A furious blush warmed her cheeks when Ivar wrapped an arm around her waist, tucking her into his side and pressing a quick kiss to her temple. What she assumed was his nonverbal apology. 

 "Hey, this is Sigurd." Hvitserk said, gesturing to the unknown blond sitting with them. "I don't think you've met him yet. Ubbe had to take a call, so you'll meet him later."

 "Hi, it's nice to meet you." She said, looking at the other Lothbrok. He had light blond, curly hair in frazzled braids and brown eyes. At first glance she would not have guessed he was one of the brothers, but she figured genetics were always weird. He had a lean body similar to Hvitserk with a tribal tattoo sleeve and a Thor's hammer necklace laying on his bare chest like the other brothers wore.

 He silently raised his beer bottle at her, still stretched out in his chair like a lazy cat in the sun. 

 Thoughtfully she peered up at Ivar, keeping her voice low. "I'm sorry, I didn't know Gyda was bringing me here otherwise I'd have told you. She literally didn't tell me until we were pulling up."

 "It's fine." He murmured evenly, but Kari got the feeling that was not how he truly felt. 

 "Do….do you want me to leave?"

 He sighed, his grip around her tightening for a moment, before he seemed to relax. "No. I'm glad you're here. It won't be boring…." a wolfish grin grew as he slid his hand up her exposed thigh sensually, ".... especially if you take off this cover and let me see what's underneath." 

 "No!" She squeaked, grabbing his roving hand before it could migrate further. 

 He chuckled. "Come on, kitten…. just a peek?"

 "Ivar, no."

 "Why not?"

 "Its…. it’s scandalous."

 Hvitserk raised his hand, a devious smirk on his face. "I want to see."

 She covered her face with her hands, embarrassment flooding her. "Oh gods, this was such a bad idea." Then she had to rapidly grasp Ivar's hand as it slipped under the swimsuit cover to caress her hip and trace her bikini bottom. "Ivar…."

 "Fine." He slipped his hand back out but splayed it over her exposed thigh. "You can show me later."

 Thankfully, Gyda reappeared with a glass of white wine in each hand and another blond male in tow who carried the wine bottle. He had short, cropped hair and a muscular body that spoke of many hours in the gym. Kari wondered if this was the brother that Ivar regularly worked out with. 

 "Why are you sitting with Ivar? I brought you here! I'm even bringing you wine!" Gyda teased, handing a glass to Kari. 

 "You also dragged me here unknowingly. Wine is the least you could do." Kari said without thinking, making the others laugh. 

 "You know damn well you're happy to be here." Gyda winked then took the open lounge chair next to her. "Right, I'm guessing you've been introduced to Sigurd." She flicked a hand in the curly-haired Lothbrok's direction followed by vaguely gesturing to the last unknown brother. "Now this pain in my ass, over here, is Ubbe. Ubbe, this is Kari."

 Sitting between Hvitserk and Gyda, Ubbe rolled his blue eyes but leaned forward to shake Kari's hand. "It's nice to finally meet you."

 "Yeah, likewise."

 Ubbe sat back with an impish glint in his eyes. "So, you're Ivar's girl?"

 "Um…. we’re just..." She started, unsure what to say to his family. 

 Ivar broke in, his single word answer almost coming out in a growl. "Yes."

 She whipped her head to look at him, only for him to stare her down as if waiting to see if she could refute his claim. Logically, she knew she should say something, argue that they were only friends. Yet any rebuttal died on her tongue under his fierce gaze. Instead she chose to sip on her wine generously.  

 "Right." Ubbe finally said, watching the two with an amused look. 

 Sigurd scoffed loudly before taking a swig of his beer. 

 "Something you want to say, Sig?" Ivar turned narrowed eyes at his brother.

 The curly-haired brother smirked, seeming to debate saying anything. Finally, he sat up and his gaze zeroed in on Kari. "How much does he pay you to fuck him?"

 The reaction from those around was instantaneous. Next to her, Ivar tensed, ready to spring up and fight his brother. A sharp reprimand of "Sigurd!" came from both Gyda and Ubbe while Hvitserk pinched the bridge of his nose. 

 Something rose up inside Kari though. She understood enough to know about the animosity between Sigurd and Ivar. His comment felt more like a cruel jab at Ivar than her. She was just the pathway to try and cause torment between the brothers. But if no one else was going to stand up and defend the dark-haired Lothbrok, she would. 

 So instead of taking his words personally, she just smiled sweetly at Sigurd, placing a hand on Ivar's thigh as she responded. "He doesn't. I'm happy to do it for free. Besides, he has something you never will."

 "And what's that?"

 "A cock big enough to pleasure someone….is that why you go through girlfriends so quickly?"

 The rising tension evaporated in a flash. Gyda snorted so hard she almost dropped her wine glass. Hvitserk threw his head back laughing while Ubbe tried to cover his smile with his hand. Kari was sure her eyes were comically wide as what she said without thinking sunk in. Her face flushed and she pressed her face against Ivar's shoulder. Sure, she had meant to defend Ivar but she had not meant to be so crass. The statement seemed to fly out of her mouth before her brain could catch up. 

 Next to her, Ivar laughed as he nuzzled her. She squirmed under his onslaught but also at realizing she just insulted one of Ivar's brothers. Even if it was the one he liked least of all. For a fleeting moment, the idea she had just made herself an enemy crossed her mind. 

 When she sneaked a peek, Sigurd quickly drained the rest of his beer and walked away murmuring something about getting another one. 

 "I think you'll fit in, Kari." Ubbe stated, still trying unsuccessfully to hide his amusement. 

 Kari was unsure of that. She quickly took a large sip of the wine to settle her fraying nerves. What had she been thinking? It hurt to hear Ivar's brother being so blatantly cruel to him and if this was a regular occurrence, no wonder Ivar wanted to spend most of their time at her place. 

 "I didn't realize you liked my cock so much, kattungen." Ivar whispered salaciously into her ear, drawing her back to the present. His tongue flicked her earlobe, making her jolt. "I think I'll have to give you a reward later."

 She shivered at his tone, her core clenching without resistance. It was unfair how just at his husky tone alone, her body betrayed her desire. But they were in public though, in front of his family no less, so she willfully attempted to cool the heat warming her veins. With a smile, she tried to nudge him away from her but he was too strong, only tightening his grip on her and laying a quick kiss to her neck. 

 "I can't believe I said that." She whispered, hoping only he heard her. 

 He smirked, an unmistakable fire in his eyes. "It was sexy as fuck."

 Thankfully, Torvi came over to join the group, a welcome distraction for Kari as she was sure the fire in Ivar's gaze was enough to set her ablaze and further stoke her own heat. 

 Torvi settled into Sigurd's now absent spot. "What did I miss?" 

 "Kari said Ivar's cock is bigger than Sigurd's." Hvitserk stated smugly. 

 Torvi stared at Kari with a tilt of her head and an amused grin. "Really? And how did we get on the subject of dicks already?"

 Some of the group laughed as Kari covered her face once again, mortified that she was the center of attention because of what she thoughtlessly said. She had the sneaking suspicion none of them would ever let her live this down. 

 "Alright, enough. Come on, it's girl time now." Gyda grabbed Kari's hand and dragged her to her feet, much to Ivar's obvious chagrin. She scoffed, meeting her half-brother's gaze. "I'll give her back later."

 The three women wandered over to some open chairs further down from the guys and closer to the Buddha statue. Gyda carried the wine bottle and her glass while Kari carefully held her own glass. Torvi snatched a beer from a nearby cooler as they meandered over. Gyda settled on a single, lounge chair adjacent to a cushioned two-person seat which the other two sat on. 

 "Alright, we have a very serious matter to discuss. Your answer may or may not break our friendship." Gyda started, leaning forward as she pointed a single finger at the brunette. 

 Kari found herself straightening in her seat, hand clutching her wine glass tighter. 

 Eyes intent, Gyda's voice dropped conspiringly. "Who is sexier: Steve Rogers or Bucky Barnes?"

 Shock rendered Kari momentarily speechless. At Gyda's serious tone, she had imagined a topic that would involve confessing a secret, not…. not a movie franchise. "Um…. Bucky." She hesitantly answered. 

 "Yes!!" Gyda shouted, throwing her arms up and almost spilling her wine. "I knew I liked you! Ivar, she is mine now!"

 Kari laughed at her enthusiasm; all concern having vanished instantly. "I take it you like him too?"

 "Hell yeah. I would willingly choke on his cock or he could pound my pussy to pulp and I wouldn't complain either way."

 Torvi shook her head, a hint of a smile tilting the corners of her lips up. "Something's wrong with you."

 "You prefer Steve?" Kari inquired, once she recovered from choking on air at Gyda's blunt statement. Her friend always had a way of surprising her, and giving her second-hand embarrassment.

 Torvi shrugged. "A tall, handsome blond. That's my kind of man."

 Peeking over at Bjorn who was still playing in the pool with both kids, Kari hummed thoughtfully. "Huh. Makes sense."

 "No wonder you are with Ivar if you prefer Bucky Barnes."

 "But we aren't…. together." Kari fixed her eyes on her wine, knowing her answer sounded lame even to her own ears. 

 Gyda patted her leg. "You keep telling yourself that."

 "We're just friends."

 "No, you aren't."

 "Kari, it's fine." Torvi shot Gyda a look. "It's between you two, it's not really our business."

 "She's our friend!" Gyda whined, throwing herself back in her seat dramatically. 

 "And she will let us know if something changes. Including telling us if Ivar does something stupid and we need to kick his ass."

 Kari giggled as Torvi tapped her beer bottle against her wine glass. "I promise. Hvitserk already made me swear too."

 "Good. So is Ivar really that good in bed?" 

 "Gyda!" Kari exclaimed but laughed at how shameless her friend was. 

 Torvi thankfully changed the topic of conversation to Ubbe's birthday coming up next month. Asa wandered over, wrapped in a green and brown towel with long ears sticking out that made her look like baby Yoda. When Sigurd eventually appeared, Hali dragged him to the pool where they jumped in together. Not long after, Hvitserk joined them, doing a cannon-ball with the splash almost hitting the ladies. 

 Kari chatted with Torvi and Gyda for some time, enjoying herself immensely. The topics varied, but she never felt unincluded. More than once, she glanced over, only to find Ivar's gaze already on her. After the third time, he tipped his head to the side and patted the spot next to him. A not-so subtle invitation or demand, depending on how you looked at it. 

 A smile teased her lips and she nodded. She started to rise, with her second glass of wine in hand, when the sound of a loud "shit" from Gyda distracted her. 

 "What is she doing here?" Torvi quietly asked with an undertone of frustration. 

 Curious, Kari followed their gazes towards the door leading into the glassed-in porch. She was met with the sight of two blondes emerging in matching, white swimsuits that barely seemed to cover anything. Both strutted as if they were on a runway, while chatting with one another. 

 "Kari, go sit with Ivar." Gyda encouraged, snatching her hand and leading her back without a moment's hesitation towards where Ivar and Ubbe were still sitting. The wine was left forgotten on the side table. 

 "What's going on?" Kari asked in a hushed tone. 

 "Drama. I can't believe that bitch brought her. What was she thinking?"

 "Gyda?"

 She clicked her tongue but hurriedly whispered back. "That's Ivar's ex."

 Surprise made Kari almost stumble but she managed to catch herself at the last second. Further explanations had to wait because they came upon the brothers at the same time the two blondes did. Soon as Kari was close enough, Ivar held out his hand, a sweet gesture, but she could see the tension and anger in the set of his shoulders and the thin line of his lips. Silently, he guided her to sit between his spread legs, arms banding around her waist and pulling her indecently close. For once though, she did not complain. 

 "Hey, baby." One of the blondes said in a sickly-sweet voice as she pressed a kiss to Ubbe's cheek. "Sorry we're late."

 "It's fine." Ubbe slowly answered as he shifted his gaze to the other blonde. "I didn't know you were bringing someone."

 "This is supposed to be family only." Gyda snapped, having dropped into her seat next to Ivar and Kari. 

 The blonde, who stood next to Ubbe still, narrowed her eyes at Kari. "Then why is she here?" 

 "That's Ivar's girlfriend." Ubbe answered.

 "Uh, hi, I'm Kari." She decided to speak up, hoping introductions would somehow break the rising tension. At her words, Ivar momentarily dropped his head to kiss her shoulder. Unsure if his actions were encouraging or reprimanding, she laid her hands over his, which were still wrapped around her. 

 "Hmmm…. Margrethe." She replied flatly, with a pinched look, as if talking to Kari was beneath her. "I'm Ubbe's fiancé."

 The other blonde smiled pleasantly as she looked Kari in the eye. "I'm Freydis. It's lovely to meet you."

 "Yeah, nice to meet you too." Kari managed to say around the suddenly tightened grip around her waist. She would be a liar if she said she was not intimidated by Freydis. While both women were beautiful, something that seemed required to be in the presence of the Lothbrok family, Freydis was a step beyond that. With her doll-like features, lovely blue eyes and flawless skin, she was gorgeous. Kari could feel all her own insecurities screaming at her in the presence of Ivar's ex. How the youngest Lothbrok went from someone as stunning as Freydis to as girl-next-door as Kari, she had no idea….and it made her uncomfortable. 

 "What the fuck is she doing here?" Ivar demanded, ignoring Freydis' presence completely.  

 Margrethe rolled her eyes as her hand slowly stroked across Ubbe's shoulders. "I get bored and wanted to spend time with my best friend, so fuck off." She turned her head to look at Freydis beside her. "Come on, let's get something to drink." 

 After a quick kiss to Ubbe, the two headed back towards the house but not before Freydis glanced back at Ivar and Kari one last time. 

 Once they were far enough away, Gyda rounded on Ubbe, not even bothering to contain her ire. "Fiancé? Really, Ubbe?" She sneered. 

 "Hell no. I haven't proposed. I damn well don't plan to and she knows it."

 "Why are you still with her? She's a greedy bitch."

 "Gyda, I know you don't like her but she's still my girlfriend."

 "Who the fuck knows why." 

 Ubbe turned his attention to Ivar. "I swear I didn't know she was bringing Freydis. I'd have told her not to come then."

 "As long as she stays the fuck away from me, I don't give a shit." The dark-haired Lothbrok growled at his older brother. 

 The residual tension in the air was painful to abide in. It felt like a caged animal, pacing, waiting, ready for the moment to unleash a terrorizing attack. 

 "Hey, I have a question." Kari blurted out, unable to take the way the tension made her skin feel like it was being sunburned. Once Gyda and Ubbe shifted to watch her, she posed her question. "Ah, well, I've been wondering for a while but why don't you guys have bodyguards or something?"

 Ivar snorted, brushing her hair over her shoulder to press his face into the crook of her neck, making her squirm although he did not relent his position. 

 It was Ubbe that answered with a wide grin. "Eh, we don't need them. We can handle ourselves."

 "But you guys have drivers, isn't the next step to have bodyguards?"

 "You worried for us?" Ivar whispered, nipping at her skin, only to soothe the spot with his tongue. 

 "I'm serious."

 "Let's just say we know how to protect ourselves. Besides, no one is stupid enough to come after us." Ubbe concluded, raising his beer in a mock salute.

 Gyda snickered. "This is why I stay out of the family business."

 "You've no issue spending Father's money though." Ubbe retorted in a jovial way. 

 She shrugged and sent Kari a playful wink. 

 A minute later, Bjorn, Torvi and Asa came over, taking open seats with Asa sitting in Torvi's lap. Even though Kari had met Bjorn before, it still shocked her to see how much larger he was compared to the other brothers, both in size and physique. Now sitting next to Torvi, he appeared larger. With his long, braided ponytail and shaved sides, a short beard and sharp, blue eyes, he seemed quite formidable. Kari wondered briefly if that helped with the family business. 

 "See Kari there, she is the one who teaches yoga." Torvi softly said to Asa. 

 Asa peeked over at Kari, shyly smiling, still wrapped in her towel but with a juice box in hand. 

 "I bet if you ask nicely, she might show you something." Torvi said then looked up at Kari. "Lately she loves watching me do yoga at home. It's cute when she tries to do it with me."

 Bjorn chuckled, slinging an arm over the back of his wife's chair. "And usually falls down onto her face."

 "Hey, she's trying!" Torvi defended, elbowing Bjorn in the side.

 Looking at the little girl across the circle of seats, Kari smiled. "Want me to show you something I've been working on? I'm not very good at it though, so if I fall over, you can laugh at me. I'll be laughing at myself too."

 Asa nodded fervently, eyes wide in anticipation. 

 "What do you say?" Torvi tapped her daughter's nose. 

 Asa looked up at her mom then back to Kari. "Please." Even though it came out sounding more like "peas".

 "Sure. I need to stretch some first." Kari stood up and immediately had to slap Ivar's hand away that prowled down the curve of her ass. She tried to glare at him over her shoulder, only to be met with a mock innocence. Overly aware of the eyes on her, she chose a spot nearby in the plush, green grass, trying to keep her nerves to a minimum. Carefully, she warmed up her muscles, doing a few simple stretches so as not to hurt herself. Honestly, she was nervous since she never did advanced poses in front of others. It was not that she was unable to, for she did them frequently at home on her own time. It just felt like she was vying for attention or trying to show off when she did advanced poses in view of others. Conflicting memories of her grandmother's encouraging voice fought with her mother's reprimand in her mind as she stretched. 

 "What are you going to do?" Gyda called over, returning from retrieving her wine glass and bottle. 

 The question pulled her from her mind's internal war, bringing her back to the present. "Um, it's called the super soldier."

 "Oooo, I like it already."

 Once stretched, Kari stood frozen for a moment realizing she was going to need to take her cover off to do the pose. 

 "Kari, you look sexy as hell, now take the damn cover off." Gyda called out. 

 Kari hesitated, fears and insecurities rising afresh within her. 

 "Do it or Ivar will get his ass up and help you. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

 "I hate you." She mumbled but gave in. Slowly, she walked back over to the circle of chairs, pulling the white cover off and dropped it on the lounge chair Ivar still sat on. Her eyes briefly flickered up only to meet Ivar's smoldering gaze. Instantly, she could feel herself flush. Hoping no one noticed, she moved back to her grassy spot. A loud wolf-whistle came from the direction of the pool, most likely from Hvitserk but Kari ignored it, knowing if she thought about it too much, she would make a run for it. Mentally preparing herself, she pulled her hair back into a bun on the nape of her neck, then faced the group but kept her gaze downward, too scared to look at them. 

 After taking a deep breath, she bent over to lay her hands flat on the grass without bending her knees. Next, she hooked her right shoulder behind her knee and extended her left arm for balance. She took a long, deep breath before continuing onward. Then she lifted her left foot and grabbed it with her right hand, still tucked behind her right leg. After another deep breath, she pulled her left leg up until her knee was pointed towards the sky. She held it there for three breaths before slowly releasing her leg back down and carefully straightening back up. 

 A small round of applause greeted her when she straightened. 

 "Another!"

 "You go, Kari!"

 "Do another one!"

 Blushing furiously at the cheers, she leaned forward into downward facing dog. Carefully, she slid her hands forward until her elbows touched the grass with her ass still in the air. Taking a deep breath and hoping she did not make a fool of herself, she engaged her core and kicked her legs up so she was doing a handstand but still on her elbows. Once she felt stable, she pressed her legs together and slowly bent her knees until they were almost parallel with her forearms on the ground. Feeling the burn in her core and arms, she hoped she could finish the pose without falling on her face. Next, she lowered her legs, knees apart now and big toes touching until her feet touched the top of her head. She could not help the smile that stretched across her face as she held the pose for a couple seconds, making sure to breathe slow. Scorpion pose was one she was still trying to master on her own, let alone in front of others. If anything, this felt like a victory for her. Methodically she unfurled, bringing her legs up and then back to the ground. 

 When she finally stood up, brushing the grass off her forearms, it was to another round of applause.

 "That was amazing!" Torvi said. 

 "I was thinking sexy as fuck!" Hvitserk exclaimed, a smile on his face from where he now stood, leaning against Ubbe's chair. 

 Self-consciously, Kari tugged on her swimsuit, making sure everything was tucked into place, as much as it could be, before pulling her hair out of the bun. She walked back over to the lounge chair quickly and yanked the cover back over her body. 

 "I'm going to wash my hands." She said without meeting anyone's eyes, skirting around the group and heading towards the glassed-in porch. 

 Laughter erupted behind her as she approached the door but she ignored it as she walked inside. She padded through the porch, stomach twisting in knots, and turned into the kitchen. Her feet stuttered to a halt as she noticed Margrethe and Freydis standing there with bottles of something in hand. For a split second she thought about turning and heading to the bathroom but it was too late as the two blondes noticed her intrusion. 

 "Hi, I just need to wash my hands." Kari explained. After a moment's hesitation, she walked around the opposite side of the massive island from them and towards the kitchen sink.

 "So, you're Ivar's girlfriend?" Margrethe stated with a mocking undertone. "I didn't think someone like you was his…. type."

 "Margrethe…." Freydis chided. 

 "What? Look at her. I mean she's got tits and an ass, and I guess she could be pretty but that's it."

 "I'm sorry." Freydis apologized kindly. After a long, awkward pause where the kitchen was silent besides Kari washing her hands, she asked, "How long have you and Ivar been together?"

 "Um, we aren't…. we’re just friends." Kari found herself admitting, as she finished drying her hands and turned around to see them both staring at her. Though Freydis had a gentle smile on her face, Margrethe looked nothing less than the cat that caught the canary and planned on lording it over everyone. 

 "Oh?" 

 "See. Told you, Dis. He is still single." Margrethe smugly said, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "He's just playing the game."

 "Game?" Kari muttered aloud. 

 Freydis set her glass down and came around the island to stand in front of Kari. Her blue eyes were bright as they met Kari's. "You seem like a nice girl and clearly the others like you too. So, I'll be honest because I don't want you to get caught up in the Lothbrok drama and get hurt. Okay?"

 "Okay."

 "Ivar and I are getting back together. We're just taking a break right now. Truly, I know we are destined for each other and he agrees. We had a bad fight and needed some space but he loves me just as much as I love him. So, I know he will come back to me when he is ready. I'm so sorry to tell you that you're just the rebound girl. I'm sure he likes you but that's as far as it will ever go. Gyda likes to try and mess with the brothers' love lives so I am sorry if she dragged you into this without telling you the whole truth. It's not your fault. I am sure Gyda lied to you and probably Ivar too. But it's good for you to know now. I don't hold it against you if you've have had sex with him but just know your time with him is limited, okay? How long have you two been 'friends'?"

 "We met last month." Kari whispered, dread and despair a writhing mess of snakes churning in her stomach. Air refused to fill her lungs, leaving her struggling for breath. 

 Freydis sighed. "It probably will be soon then. Just take advantage of the things he purchases for you, so when he leaves, you can have something to sell if you're in a pinch. Yeah?"

 "Ah…. sure."

 "Good. You seem like a nice girl. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this."

 "It's…." Kari choked back a sudden sob. "It's alright. Thank you."

 "Of course, we girls need to look out for each other. Is there anything I can do for you?" She inquired, sounding so genuine in her desire to help, her gaze imploring and lips in a faint, comforting smile. 

 "No…. no. I just need to check my phone. Have you seen Gyda's bag?"

 "I think she left it on the porch." Margrethe helpfully added, never having lost the smug grin on her face as she watched Kari with a hawk-like intensity. 

 "Oh, right. Thank you." Kari shifted back and forth on her feet, body primed to run, to flee before anyone could see the tears that welled pathetically in her eyes. 

 Freydis reached out and squeezed her arm, a brief exchange of understanding, then strutted back around to grab her drink and follow Margrethe to the porch and outside. 

 Once alone, Kari pressed a hand over her mouth to try and stifle the sob that lodged itself in her throat. She knew it. Everything Freydis said made sense. 

 Without a second thought, she rushed around the island and onto the porch, quickly locating Gyda's bag. She scooped her purse and clothes out only to hurry back inside. A quick check of the time and she figured she might be able to catch a bus, but in this gated community, there was no way buses came through so she would end up walking somewhere. Feeling the sting of tears in her eyes, she sniffled, trying desperately to hold them back. She looked up the nearest bus stop on her phone, pleased it was only a few blocks away from the gated community. 

 Once positive she knew where she was going, she stared down at her clothes on the counter, wondering if she should change before leaving. It would certainly look odd for her to be walking down the street in the swimsuit cover and sandals in such an upscale neighborhood. Then she thought about any of the Lothbroks finding her trying to leave and pushed the potential oddity of her attire from her mind. It appeared there was a gas station nearby when she found the bus stop, it would be simple to change there quickly. Somehow she could give the swimsuit and cover back to Torvi…. but not today. Right now, she needed to leave. 

 She tried to shove her clothes into her purse, only succeeding by making it look like an over-inflated balloon but it worked. Lastly, she reached to grab her phone off the kitchen counter but froze. Ivar bought it for her. Freydis' words came back to her about taking advantage of the things he bought for her. Bile burned the back of her throat at the idea. She promised herself she would not be one of those girls to him. Slowly, she retracted her hand, forming it into a fist by her side. Ivar could give the phone to Freydis or throw it in the trash for all she cared. Even with the feeling of her heart being ripped in two, she refused to take advantage of him or his money. She was a better person than that. Or so she hoped. 

 Worried someone would come in soon, she tossed her purse over her shoulder and swiftly headed towards the front door. She passed through the hallway she entered in, but the pictures and awards blurred before her eyes as the repressed tears threatened to make an appearance. Hastily, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand but knew it was ultimately futile. 

 "Kari?" 

 Her stride never faltered towards her escape, even after hearing Hvitserk call her name from what sounded like the porch. 

 "Kari? Where are you going?" His voice came from behind her, probably standing at the entrance of the hallway now. 

 "I have to go." Kari said, not bothering to turn around, unsure if he could even hear her. She could barely hear footsteps behind her over the sound of her sniffles and ragged breathing. It did not matter since she was close to her escape, just a couple more moments. Her hand touched the handle, just beginning to pull the door open when Hvitserk's hand appeared in her direct line of vision and slammed it closed. Although the sound was muffled, it echoed in her mind like a gunshot. 

 "What's going on?" Hvitserk stood directly behind her, his hand still firmly planted on the door as if to prevent her from even considering leaving without permission again. 

 "It's nothing." She murmured, staring down at her feet. 

 "I seriously doubt that if you are trying to sneak away while crying…. what happened?"

 "Nothing. I just…. I just want to go home."

 "Okay." He shifted to lean his shoulder against the door, ducking his head to try and catch her eyes. "Does this have to do with the yoga stuff?"

 "No. Just…. please, Hvitserk."

 "You need to tell me something. Look, I'll give you a ride, we can leave right now but you have to tell me what happened."

 She swallowed thickly, still refusing to look at him. It was taking all of her willpower to keep the tears at bay. At any moment she felt the tears would come forth with all the power of a hurricane, reducing her to a sniveling mess on the floor, nursing a broken heart. It was all her fault though. How could she have believed someone like Ivar Lothbrok would actually be interested in her for more than just a one-night stand. She was just a challenge for him, someone to pass the time. Then once she gave in, once they finally had sex, he would walk out of her life and back into Freydis' arms and bed…. where he apparently belonged. 

 "Kari?" Hvitserk softly prompted. 

 "It's…. I just have a better understanding now…. of where I stand…. of my purpose here."

 "Your purpose?"

 She sniffed, wiping her wet eyes once again before the tears fell. "I'm just a rebound girl….and that's alright. I get it. But I just want to go home now." 

 "Fuck. Freydis said that, didn't she?"

 "It doesn't matter. Can you please just take me to the bus stop, I can get home from there." She knew she was begging but she did not care anymore. 

 "Kari, give me that." He grabbed her purse from her and tossed it onto a wooden side table. His hands held hers in a manner that was comforting verse restraining. His thumbs rubbed along the back of her hands as he softly spoke. "Look at me, you know it's not like that."

 "It doesn't matter." She shook her head, even as her hands gripped his tighter, the feeling being the only thing keeping her from falling apart at the front door. "I shouldn't have let Gyda bring me here. I should have made her drop me off."

 "Kari…." He began but was interrupted. 

 "Hvitty?" Ivar's loud voice boomed from the kitchen. "You better not be trying to fuck Kari!"

 Kari flinched at the sound. The facade of strength she fought to maintain evaporated like smoke. The tears she had been trying so desperately to withhold slipped free, rolling down her cheeks like a cleansing rain.  

 "Over here!" Hvitserk called back, releasing her hands but not moving away. 

 Ivar's measured gait could be heard coming down the hallway like the footsteps of doom. 

 "What the fuck is going on? You disappear to find Kari and then…." His voice trailed off as he entered the foyer, piercing gaze zeroing in on her tear-stained face. What sense of jovial teasing transformed into enraged fury. When he spoke next, it came out in an animalistic growl that bespoke impending violence. "Who fucking hurt you?"

 "I'm fine." She mumbled, wrapping her arms around herself. Her chin rested on her chest, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "I just want to go home."

 "Freydis….and I'm betting Margrethe also said something to her." Hvitserk snitched, leaning fully against the door. He watched both Kari and his brother as if ready to intervene at a moment's notice. 

 Ivar snapped, stepping closer. "What did they say?"

 She was unsure who he directed his question to but she still shook her head, refusing to look at either brother. Hearing his wrath, it only made her heart ache more. All of this was a show, it had to be. Why would he truly care? The sound of his heavy gait coming closer brought a fresh wave of silent tears. 

 Moving to her other side, he cupped her cheek. When she resisted looking at him, he shifted his hand to grab the back of her neck, forcing her gaze to meet his. A tempest swirled in his icy blue eyes. "What. Did. They. Say?"

 "Why does it matter?" She questioned, bottom lip trembling as a sob rose from her chest. 

 "Because they hurt you."

 "But I'm no one. I don't matter." She shook her head, pressing a hand over her mouth to contain the cries bound to escape at any moment. "You're just going to get back together with Freydis when you get bored with me."

 His eyes widened as if she had sucker-punched him. His mouth dropped open for a moment before he collected himself, the maelstrom rippling under his skin on the verge of breaking free. "Did they say that?"

 "Freydis said…. she said you two were just taking a break….and I'm the rebound girl."

 "Fuck. Fuck!" Ivar stepped away, running his hands through his loose hair. In an instant, he grabbed the decorative bowl off the entrance table and threw it. The shattering against the wall reverberated in the foyer followed by Ivar's guttural shout. "FUCK!" 

 "Ivar." Hvitserk softly said, warily watching his younger brother. 

 "I'm going to kill her. Fuck! I can't believe she would fucking say that!" Ivar ran his hands through his hair again, looking on the verge of ripping the strands out. The ferocity in his eyes was unmatched as he glanced down the hallway, clearly wanting to go after his ex, then shifted back to Kari, who remained silent and unmoving. "What else did she say?" He barked at her. 

 "You're destined for each other." She confessed after a moment's hesitation. 

 Ivar stormed over to her, devouring the ground beneath his feet as he invaded her space. Standing before her, he cupped her face, eyes imploring her to believe him. "Freydis is a crazy, jealous bitch. She manipulates to get what she wants. Don't believe a word out of her fucking mouth. Fuck! Please, Kari, don't cry. I'm right here, kitten."

 His words seeped into her mind, slipping in through the cracks and delving deep into her soul. His words alone should not have reassured her like they did. Between his pleading eyes and his gentle touch, her few walls surrounding her heart crumbled, unable to fight him. She believed him, even before her mind fully recognized it. 

 She lightly placed her hands on his bare chest, one directly over his heart, feeling the rapid tempo under her fingers. "Promise?" She whispered wetly. "You're not just…. I’m not just a rebound girl?"

 Ivar groaned, pressing his forehead to Kari's. "I swear. I never thought that about you." 

 And she believed him again. The truth falling from his lips resounded in the very core of her being. It made no sense how she knew, but somehow, she did. 

 After a long second, Hvitserk pushed off the door from next to them. "I'm going to head back and keep an eye on them. Kari, if you still want a ride just text me, alright?" 

 "Thank you, Hvitty." She reached out and snagged his hand, giving it a quick squeeze. With a smile, he responded in kind before heading down the hallway towards the backyard. 

 Soon as Hvitserk started walking away, Ivar grabbed her hand and led her in the opposite direction. They hurried through a short hallway to arrive at a closed door. Impatiently, Ivar thrust the door open and pulled her into a room, slamming the door shut behind them. She had a brief moment to scan the new room and notice the two walls with floor to ceiling bookshelves packed full and the couple couches near a large window. 

 Before she could do anything, she shrieked as she found herself suddenly yanked back, her body colliding with the closed door. Immediately Ivar's mouth claimed hers in a hungry, feverish kiss. His body pinned her to the door, hands kneading her hips. It was all she could do to just breathe. Her hands clung to his broad shoulders, desperate to stay above the waves of passion-fueled desire that surged unchecked within her. 

 Ivar withdrew his mouth from hers, but only to place kisses over her cheeks, washing away her tears with his affections. "Don't listen to her. Her and I. We are through. I will never go back to her. She has been sniffing around but that ends tonight. I won't fucking let her talk to you again. I fucking swear it."

 "Ivar…." She whined, tilting her head. An open invitation which he took. 

 He swooped in, continuing to speak between leaving open-mouth kisses on her neck. "It's you. It's you I want. It's you I think about all the time. Fuck, kitten, you have no idea how much I want you. And seeing you do those yoga poses in that swimsuit…. fuck! You looked so goddamn sexy; I got a hard-on just watching." He grabbed her thigh, lifting it up and curling it behind him, pressing himself against her core. At the touch of his hardened length against her, she whimpered. "Do you feel that? That's for you, søte Kari."

 She could not help but roll her hips, grinding against his erection, body automatically seeking friction. 

 "Yes! Fuck." He growled against her neck. "Come here."

 She whined when he released her leg, letting it fall down to the floor. Her breathing was unsteady already, heart hammering away in her chest. A part of her knew she should stop this, open the door behind her and walk out to avoid the temptation. Yet when his hand latched onto hers once again, tugging her towards one of the couches, she followed willingly, unable to deny the sweet sin that was Ivar.

 He dropped onto the couch and settled her into his lap to straddle him. As she settled, he grabbed a handful of the cover over her and yanked it off, tossing it haphazardly onto the floor. Her first instinct was to cover her chest, but as her arms moved to do that, Ivar guided them behind his head. His gaze drunk in the curves of her body, an unashamed starved look in his eyes that made her shudder as it further ignited the fire in her belly. 

 "Kattungen min." He whispered reverently. "Fucking hell, so gorgeous. No one else gets to touch you like I do. Got it? You're mine." He started lavishing her chest and neck with his mouth, alternating between his lips and tongue. 

 She knew she should feel more self-conscious straddling Ivar's lap in only the swimsuit that barely covered all of her assets; but it was as if his touch banished the thoughts away. Instead she felt beautiful and cherished. 

 He palmed one of her breasts and the moan that escaped her was pure wanton. Hands tangled in his long locks as her hips ground harder against his erection in response. His leg braces were only an afterthought that did not impede her actions. 

 "Ivar, please."

 "That's it. Fuck, you're so beautiful. I can't wait to fuck you senseless."

 Suddenly he shifted under her, his hand fumbling between them. Her mind barely took notice as he sucked the skin between her breasts, something that would definitely leave a mark. Next thing she knew, his cock was freed, standing at attention between them. 

 Before she could protest, he spoke up. "I know you're not ready." He slid it under her, pulling her hips back down. At the sensation of his cock rubbing her slit with only the thin barrier of the bikini bottom between them, she threw her head back with a whine. Desire roared through her like a freight train as his cock rubbed against her soaking core. 

 "You like that, kitten?"

 "Yes." She sighed out, head tilted back as she rolled her hips. 

 "Good, my turn." He reached behind her and promptly untied the straps of the bikini top behind her back. 

 "Ivar!" She tried to cover herself but he swatted her hands away. 

 "Trust me."

 Once she relented, he laid a hard kiss to her lips then tugged the top over her head, the band behind her neck without a tie. She desperately wanted to cover herself, now before him feeling on full display. But it was the look on his face that stilled her movements. 

 "Guder. Du er utsøkt. Faen. Den vakreste kvinnen." He murmured with adoration and awe dripping off each word. 

 "What did you say?"

 Instead of answering her, he lowered his face to her chest and captured one of her perky nipples in his mouth. His other hand moved to grab one of her ass cheeks, encouraging her to keep riding him. 

 All breath vanished from her lungs. All thoughts and insecurities fled under his touch. Her hands tangled in his hair, keeping his mouth on her. All she could feel was him. All she wanted to feel was him. Gasps and moans slipped from her as she allowed herself to be overtaken and drawn into an ocean of pleasure. 

 She could feel herself rising higher and higher, riding the wave. Her mind was becoming delirious from fire in her veins and the motion of her hips rocking over his exposed cock. 

 To her surprise, Ivar grabbed a handful of hair at the back of her neck. "That's it, beautiful. Fuck. Let's see what that bendy spine can do." Carefully, he pulled on her hair, not in a painful way but as if to guide her. Willingly submitting herself, she bent her back, following his lead. When her chest was parallel to the ceiling, he stopped pulling, keeping her suspended with her back arched. 

 Ivar groaned loudly, thrusting against her. She met his action, too absorbed in the bliss to care about decency. 

 "All the dirty, fucking things this makes me want to do to you." He licked a scalding line up her sternum, only to swirl his tongue around one of her nipples, making her mewl as she continued to move her hips faster. "Come for me."

 "Yes, yes." She chanted. "Ivar, please."

 "Keep begging, kitten. Let me know how much you want my cock."

 As her climax hit, the tightening coil in her core sprung loose, her mouth dropped open in a silent scream. Wave after wave rolled over her. She could feel Ivar grunt and thrust a few more times beneath her before retracing his cock and spurting onto her exposed stomach. After he released her hair, letting her rise back up to face him. Their eyes fixated on one another, chests heaving as they struggled for breath. 

 Gently, she reached out and touched his cheek, a shy smile on her face. Then, when he made no move to pull away, she leaned forward, uncaring of his cum slipping down her stomach, and drew him into a lazy, slow kiss. He responded, lips melding to hers in a way that was full of softness and contentment. After a moment, she felt him reach behind him for the blanket laying on the back of the couch and wipe her stomach off, all the while never abandoning their kiss. 

 Once she was clean, he dropped the blanket to the floor and somehow managed to keep their lips locked as he guided them to lay down on the couch, their bare chests pressed together and his arm under her head, legs tangled. 

 "Do you believe me now?" He eventually asked, leaning back but only far enough so the tips of their noses almost touched. 

 "Mmmm?"

 "That it's you I want. Freydis and anyone else can go fuck themselves for all I care."

 She bit her bottom lip and dropped her gaze. "I don't understand why."

 "What are you talking about?"

 "I mean…. Margrethe said I'm not your…. type."

 He snorted and muttered under his breath, "fucking bitch".

 "But she's right." Kari pressed onward, her hand running up and down his side as if to ground herself. "I mean, I could never compare to Freydis…. or Torvi or Gyda or any of them. They are all beautiful and….and in perfect shape. I'm not. My thighs and butt are too big and I'm maybe pretty but that's it."

 "You're right. You're not my usual type. But those girls, I'd fuck them and then never look their way again. You though, fuck, I can barely take my eyes off you when you're around. And these," he reached down and grabbed a handful of one of her ass cheeks, making her squeak. "I love them. And these thighs, fucking hell, kitten, I want you to suffocate me with them when I finally eat you out."

 She gasped, a bolt of electricity shooting through her at the image. 

 A devilish grin grew on his face, his hand stroking her ass cheek. "You like that idea? My tongue teasing your folds before slipping inside of you. Your thighs wrapped around my head as I feast on your pussy."

 "Ivar." She whined, unable to stop the sudden roll of her hips. 

 "Soon, sweet Kari." He chuckled darkly, ceasing her movement by melding their hips together. "And your tits, gods, they are perfect. I could stare at them all day."

 She giggled even as she flushed under his praise. "I'm sorry for doubting you. I guess, I'm still just surprised you'd…. well, that you want me."

 "You are mine. You're my woman." He stated resolutely, gazing directly into her eyes so she could see how serious he was. 

 "But we aren't dating…."

 "Doesn't fucking matter. You're mine. And one of these days you'll change your mind and stop playing this game of trying to keep me away."

 She sighed, wishing it would be that easy. Before he could continue with that argument, she changed the subject. "You know, I think we exceeded our kiss quota for the day."

 He snorted. "I didn't see you complaining earlier."

 "That's true. Do you think we should head back out?"

 "If I see Freydis or Margrethe right now…." His voice trailed off, but the fury from earlier lingered in the unspoken threat. 

 "I know. We don't have too. I'm okay right here." 

 A grateful smile on his lips, he kissed her quickly then rolled her onto her back and laid his head on her chest. They relaxed like that for several minutes in silence, her hand running through his hair, just enjoying the feeling of complacency and peace between them now after their fight. If you could even call it that. 

 Finally, she spoke up in a hushed tone, a random question coming to mind. "Do you ever get in the pool?"

 "No."

 "Oh." Was all she could say after his sharp, barbed answer. Clearly it was a subject that was not open for discussion. Her mind wandered, wondering what happened to cause such a response from him. An uncomfortable tension hung over them after his response. Something she was not sure if she should try and dissipate or ignore for now. 

 After a minute of continued silence, he kissed her chest, letting his lips linger there as if using the extra time to mentally prepare himself. Before she could tell him it was none of her business, he spoke. His tone was quiet and, in anyone else, almost shaky. 

 "I…. I used to try when I was younger. They'd put me on one of those stupid floating things and pull me around or someone would hold me. Then, when I was about seven…. Sigurd and I got in a big fight earlier that day. He claimed I broke one of his toys. Fucking asshole. I was sitting by the pool, this in our childhood home in Kattegat, I liked to watch things float on the water. Sigurd walked by me and….and pushed me over the edge."

 She gasped. "Oh Ivar…."

 "Ubbe jumped in and pulled my half-drown ass out." He nuzzled against her skin; his tone having lost the insecurity as he reassured her. "I'm alright, Kari."

 She drew his face up and gave him a long kiss, their mouth connecting with a deeper need and alleviation. "Remind me to thank Ubbe when I see him next."

 He rolled his eyes. "Don't. He's never let me forget the fact."

 "Still."

 They laid there for some more time, wrapped up in one another and content in the peaceful stillness. She could not help but think about the memory Ivar shared with her. How far back did that resentment go between the brothers? Had there ever been a time where they cared for one another? And how bad was the animosity between them if one was willing to kill the other, even as children? If her arms tightened around him, neither one mentioned it as they continued to lay there. 

 A loud knock on the door followed by a yell through the door of "are you two done yet?" disturbed their peace. 

 "Hvits, fuck off!" Ivar called back, burrowing his face between her breasts. 

 "Do you have clothes on at least?!"

 "I do!" 

 Kari swatted the back of Ivar's head at his admission. Leaning up slightly, he gave her a cheeky wink before laying his head back down. 

 "Well cover up, I'm coming in!" Hvitserk yelled through the door. 

 "Ivar, get up." Kari softly said, a panic setting in at the brother coming in and seeing them in this suggestive position and her topless. 

 "No." He mumbled. 

 Before she could shove him off, he snatched the throw blanket off the floor and threw it over his head to cover her chest. As she began to protest, the door cautiously opened. In an instant, she tried to spread out the blanket over them as best as she could, keeping the blanket over her chest and spread it somewhat over their torsos. Although how much good it did was questionable. She peered over to see Hvitserk standing in the doorway with an amused look before shaking his head and stepping in, closing the door behind him. 

 "What the fuck do you want?" Ivar asked, muffled by the blanket and his face still pressed against her skin. 

 Kari raised her gaze to the ceiling for a moment then mouthed to Hvitserk, "I'm sorry."

 Hvitserk winked at her before answering. "Bjorn and Torvi want everyone together before they leave. Sounds like they have an announcement or something."

 "Are the bitches still here?"

 "Yeah." Hvitserk sighed. 

 "Then no."

 "I'll go." Kari softly said. "It must be important."

 "No, you aren't." Ivar nipped at the side of her breast, making her squirm. 

 "Well everyone is waiting on you two." Hvitserk pointed out as he watched, clearly entertained if his broad grin said anything. 

 "I'm coming."

 Ivar pulled the blanket back slightly to stare up at her. "Why the fuck do you want to see them?"

 "Is it….is it terrible I want to show Frey…. her that I'm still here. That no matter what they said, that I'm not going anywhere."

 A positively, feral grin spread over his face. He swooped in and pressed a devastating kiss to her mouth, not letting up until she thought she would suffocate from the intensity of it. "Let's go." 

 He started to rise up but when she squeaked and tried to clutch the blanket to her, he froze. 

 "Hvits, leave."

 "You sure I can't stay?" His smirk grew as he caught Kari's eye and watched her flush deepen. 

 "GO!" Ivar bellowed, glaring at his older brother. 

 "Fine. I'll wait out here for you. If you're not out in three minutes, I'm coming back in." Hvitserk stepped outside and closed the door behind him. 

 Ivar carefully slid off of her, standing up beside the couch, the blanket in hand. His predatory, blue eyes remained trained on her form, raking over her body like a sweet he wanted to devour completely. A familiar warmth awakened in her core, even as she shyly glanced away, covering her naked breasts with her hands. 

 "Fuck, you're gorgeous. On second thought, I think we should stay. I need another taste of you and to hear you moaning my name for everyone to fucking hear."

 She squealed, quickly skirting away from him before he could pounce on her. "Ivar, no!" Yet, miraculously, he managed to snag an arm around her waist and drag her back against his chest. 

 "Should we make an announcement of our own?" He asked, running his nose along the shell of her ear, chuckling under his breath when she shivered against him.

 "What do you mean?"

 "That you're my girlfriend. That this just-friends is shit."

 "I…." She balked, eyes wide and heart beating a painful staccato in her chest. “We…. we can't."

 "Why the fuck not?" He grasped her breasts, rolling her peaked nipples between his fingers. 

 She practically swallowed her tongue, biting back the moan lodged in her throat. When she was positive she could control her voice, she replied. "We've talked about this. I'm just…. I’m not ready."

 "But you'll practically let me fuck you?"

 At his harsh snap, she tried to push out of his embrace, unwilling to have this conversation in their current predicament or maybe have the conversation at all. The innate desire to flee rose up in her but she tried to force it down as she squirmed in his arms. He held her firm, not giving up an inch, her body flush against his own. 

 "Ivar!" 

 "What aren't you telling me?" 

 She hated both herself and him in the moment as she ceased her escape attempts. She hated him for continuously pushing her, for ignoring her words and trying to force her where he wanted her to be. Even more though, she hated herself. If she had kept away from him, however unlikely that was, if she did not have to hide, then none of this would matter. If she could be honest, truly honest, he would most likely reject her. And that was why she hated herself most. Because she was selfish and wanted his attention and affection, even knowing if he knew who she truly was, he would walk away. 

 Carefully, she turned her head to meet his stormy eyes. "I promise one day I will. I just…. can we please just enjoy this? What we have? I just need…. time."

 He stared down at her for a long time. She wondered what he read in her face when he finally gave a resigned sigh. "Fine. I'm telling people you are my girlfriend though."

 "You're unbelievable."

 "I think you like that about me." He matched her smile with his own before letting her go.  

 She quickly found her bikini top, noticing Ivar not-so-subtly adjusting his sweatpants. She slipped it over her head but when she went to tie the straps, a pair of calloused hands covered hers. Without a word, he tied it behind her back. Once done, his hand slowly prowled down her back to lightly smack her ass. 

 "Hey!" She whipped around, only to see a Cheshire grin on his face. 

 "That's my sexy ass."

 "Oh my god. Unbelievable." She muttered to herself as she snatched up the cover and pulled it over. She looked down at the blanket piled on the floor. 

 "Leave it. I'll deal with it later." He took her hand and walked with her towards the door. When they opened it, a still-shirtless Hvitserk stood leaning against the wall across from them. 

 "Took you two long enough. Damn. Almost came in and threw Kari over my shoulder to get you out." 

 Ivar spat something out in their language that made Hvitserk roll his eyes. Before they could move further down the hallway, Hvitserk reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, freezing her in place.  

 "Hey, whatever they said. Just try to ignore it. We all want you here. Hell, all of us would kick them to the damn curb if Ubbe would let us. But Ubbe and Bjorn have already approved of you."

 Ivar scoffed but Hvitserk kept his gaze on hers, letting her know he was serious. 

 "Just know, we're on your side."

 "Thank you, Hvitty." She squeezed his hand, warmth blooming in her chest at his words.  

 "Either one of them tries to talk to her, I'll strangle them." Ivar growled, starting down the hallway, towing Kari behind him. 

 "You can't kill them, Ivar. Mother said murder is wrong."

 Ivar laughed, looking over his shoulder at his brother. "Mother still loves me."

 "Yeah, yeah, we all know you're her favorite."

 "Can you blame her? Look at me. I'm far superior and more interesting than the rest of you."

 "Keep telling yourself that."

 Kari could not help but smile at their teasing, a mock argument that sounded like it had been executed many times before until now it was said out of fondness and mock sibling rivalry. 

 The three walked back outside through the glassed-in porch. On the way, she noticed her purse back next to Gyda's bag and wondered if Hvitserk moved it there for her. Outside, everyone else sat on chairs or lounge chairs that were grouped in a haphazard circle, obviously waiting for the remainder of the group to join.  

 "What took you so long? Thought we'd have to send a search party to find you." Bjorn called out as the three approached. 

 "I got 'em. The library reeks of sex though." Hvitserk said, dodging Kari's swing. 

 Ivar guided her back to the lounge chair they had been sitting in earlier, tucking her into his side with a hand laying possessively on her hip. Hvitserk sat on her other side instead of pulling a new chair over. She tried to ignore Margrethe and Freydis who sat across from them, keeping her eyes trained on her lap, fiddling with the hem of her cover.  

 "Ok, now that we're finally all here." Bjorn said, standing up with Asa in his arms. "We just wanted to tell our family the good news in person."

 "Torvi is pregnant!" Gyda blurted, staring at her sister-in-law in shock. 

 "Fuck! Gyda!" Bjorn groaned. 

 "Daddy said a bad word." Hali looked over at his mother from his spot next to Sigurd. 

 "Yes, he did, thank you, Hali." Torvi replied smiling then addressed the group. "I'm about two months along. So right now, we are only telling family, so please don't share this with anyone else yet."

 "Wow! A third! Congrats!" Ubbe started, others immediately echoing their own congratulations and well-wishes. 

 Kari jumped up and moved to give Torvi a hug after Gyda. "I know we haven't known each other long but I'm so excited for you. You're an amazing mother."

 "Thank you, Kari. Maybe your own time will come soon." She shooting her eyes over to Ivar for a second then meeting Kari's again. 

 "Oh, I don't know." She blushed at the thought. After another brief hug, Kari returned to her seat. 

 "How old are you?" Hvitserk asked suddenly. 

 "Um, I turned twenty-five this summer."

 "Ha! Still the baby of the group." Sigurd laughed, pointing his beer bottle at Ivar.  

 "Hey, nothing is wrong with an older woman. We're in our sexual prime." Gyda defended. 

 "She's not that much older." Ivar retorted, his hand skimming up and down Kari's thigh. "Just a year."

 "And a few months. You're turning twenty-four after the new year." Ubbe helpfully added with a grin. 

 "Fuck off." 

 "Mommy, Uncle Ivar said a bad word now."

 "Yes, he did, Hali. I think it's time for us to go. Say goodbye to everyone." Torvi said. After a round of goodbyes and hugs to all the uncles and aunt, the small family headed back through the house to head to their own home.

 "Did you know Ivar is younger than you?" Hvitserk asked conspiringly, once conversation started around them again. 

 She tilted her head as she looked at him, slowly answering his question. “Yeah…. we talked about this a while ago."

 "Good. Do you want kids?"

 "Hvits, what is this?" Ivar butted in. 

 "Just testing the waters to see how she feels about having my babies. You know they'd be beautiful." Hvitserk chuckled when Ivar glared at him. 

 "Be nice you two or I'm moving." Kari chided. 

 "Yes, mom." Hvitserk said, sneaking a kiss to her cheek before jumping away. He turned around and pointed at her as he walked backwards. "One day you'll have my babies!" 

 She laughed, shaking her head. She could practically feel the smoke coming from Ivar's ears. Before he could burst a vein, she leaned closer to him and laid her head against his shoulder. "He knows I'm yours."

 "He fucking better or I'll beat his ass to remind him." Ivar murmured, nuzzling her temple. 

 She relaxed against him, looking around the backyard. Hvitserk and Ubbe had started some kind of wrestling competition in the pool, both looking like they were trying to drown each other. Gyda and Ivar called insults from their seats. Sigurd was texting on his phone but occasionally looking up and making a comment. At one point he caught her eye and gave her a brief nod, which she smiled back, hoping any animosity between the two of them from her earlier comment was gone. She purposefully ignored the whispering between Margrethe and Freydis, taking a note from Ivar's book and acting as if they did not exist. 

 Looking at the Lothbrok family around her, she smiled at the group, still amazed she found herself in their midst and how welcoming most of them were. For almost two years she had been alone in a new country, thinking that was what she wanted. Now though, she wondered if she had just been missing a group that accepted her without question. 

 She peered up at Ivar, heart swelling with gratitude and affection. Without second guessing herself, she kissed his cheek and leaned back against his shoulder. He hummed, placing his own kiss to the top of her head. 

 She wondered if she should just give up fighting this, whatever this was between them. Maybe it would work out. Maybe everything would not fall apart as soon as the truth fell from her lips. Maybe he could accept her past and who she was. 

 Silently, she shook the thoughts away. It was still too soon to tell and if she was honest, she did not want to lose this. 

 Or lose him. 

[justcourttee]

It’s More Than Just a Game Pt 1

@qualitypeacepainter sent me this wonderful idea for a Daminette Volleyball AU. It will definitely have several parts and I am so excited to write it so I hope you enjoy and I hope it’s something like what you had in mind :)

“So this is what a tournament looks like?” Marinette inhaled deeply “Do you smell that Nino? Air Salonpas. It’s so satisfying.”

She didn’t bother waiting for his response, she knew he was only here for her sake. Nobody could match her excitement for this day. It took her weeks, but she finally scrambled together a makeshift team so that she could enter at least one volleyball tournament before her middle school days were over. They had exactly three days of practice, but it didn’t matter.

Marinette was here to win.

“There are a lot of good teams here, please don’t get your hopes up Mari.” Adrien reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder as if he were attempting to pull her back down to reality. “Nino and I only know the basics, this isn’t anything like baseball.”

“Yeah Marinette, I know you gave us all a crash course, but this is way different from basketball.”

“And soccer!”

Her teammates all shared the same discouraged look on their faces. They knew how hard Marinette trained. Every day after school, she’d set to herself, pass to herself, spike at the school wall while the basketball team practiced. She was always helping them out, so the least they could do was help her form a team, but volleyball was something none of them knew much of.

“You guys worry too much! You’re all super athletic and the best friends a girl could ask for. There is absolutely nothing that could get in our way-”

Her sentence was cut short as a yell of excitement echoed through the gym. Instantly her eyes locked on the source of the commotion. Gotham Middle had entered and the crowd’s excitement was all focused on them. The teams around them begin to whisper, passing drills stopping as everyone took the chance to size up the competition.

“-it’s the King of the Court-”

“-I thought they weren’t entering this tournament-”

“-we’re so screwed-”

It was as if the world was crashing down around her. Marinette knew all about Gotham Middle. They were always featured in Sports Weekly as the top school in the volleyball world. In fact, there was even one student who was being scouted for the US National team. The King of the Court, Damian Al Ghul Wayne.

“I-I think I need to use the bathroom.” Marinette clutched her stomach, her face paling the longer she stared.

“Are you okay?”  Nino tried to offer her a hand to steady herself but she simply waved him off, stumbling past him to the hallway, her eyes dazed.

It’s just one team. It’s not like they would have to play them first. Of course, they would have a warm-up game, something to get her team in the groove. Yeah, there was no doubt in her mind. She came here to win, not worry about some top-ranked school.

Slowly she stood up, taking a few deep breaths, the bathroom door a mere ten steps away.

“I’ve never even heard of Dupont Transfer Middle.”

“Apparently it’s some French school that sends students wanting to study in America. It’s like a prep for American high school. They spend their eighth-grade year there to perfect their English and take any courses that wouldn’t transfer over.”

Marinette glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, standing in front of the water fountain were a couple of members of Gotham Middle. The only reason they would be concerned with her school would be..no..fate wouldn’t be that cruel right?

“They barely have a six-man team, they don’t even have a libero. Did they actually think they had a chance?”

“Hey!” Three sets of eyes turned in her direction, instantly wavering her nerve. “Don’t underestimate us.”

As if on cue, her stomach lurched once more, taking any confidence she had with it. The Gotham players shared a glance before busting into laughter.

“Is she serious? I think she is.”

“Is that the captain label on her uniform? Maybe we should show her some respect.”

Instantly, they all straightened, mock saluting her before dissolving back into a fit of laughter. Marinette wanted to give them a piece of her mind, but her stomach refused to let up.

“Hey, benchwarmers. It’s time for the warm-up. Quit wasting time.”

The three silenced, their face a mixture of fear and awe. Who could command such respect? The coach? The manager? Marinette’s eyes strayed to where the voice came from, her stomach immediately dropping.

“The King,” she slapped her hand over her mouth, hoping she hadn’t said it loud enough to offend the guy in front of her. He didn’t even glance in her direction, his fierce glare completely focused on his teammates.

“Right away sir. Kasey, fill up two more.”

Damian Wayne. He couldn’t have been more 5’7”, but compared to Marinette’s 5’1”, she was in awe. It was impressive how he could command so much respect with just one look. She watched as he turned, taking a few steps toward the gym before pausing once more.

“Relax James, you act like we’ll need a lot. Just look at our opponent.”

It was as if they completely ignored his warning. Their giggles only enraged Marinette.

“What did you sa-”

“Did I stutter? Quit wasting time. You’re barely benchwarmers, quit acting as though you’re good enough to look down on your opponent.”

Marinette watched as they all paled, gathering their bottles before rushing back into the gym. None of them dared to make eye contact with him. Marinette released a chuckle of her own. He might be terrifying, but he really wasn’t a bad guy. Marinette relaxed as she stood, a friendly smile tugging at her lips.

“You know, I was just about to say something to them myself.”

His glare shifted from his retreating teammates to where she stood. Instantly she felt a shiver down her spine.

“You’re not even physically ready to sit the bench, don’t talk as if we’re on the same level. What are you even doing here anyway? Making memories? This is a tournament for people who are serious.”

“I am serious, my team is serious. We’re here to win and that means we start by defeating you.”

Damian took a step forward. Suddenly those six inches felt a lot taller than they were. Marinette fought with herself to not move away.

“You say that like it’s so easy.” The waves flowing off of him made her want to shrivel up, but her anger anchored her feet.

“I may not look like much, but I can jump. Really high. I will jump over any wall your team puts in front of me.”

He simply scoffed, only fueling her rage. Everyone always underestimates her, she hated it. She just wanted to be taken seriously in the sport she loved.

“You will simply be a stepping stone on the way to our championship.”

Before she could even respond, Damian turned his back, returning to the court, leaving her fuming in her spot. She wanted to declare war, rush him and take him out before he could even step onto the floor, but her stomach had other plans. Gripping her gut, Marinette turned to the bathroom, her face paler than before she left the gym.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Dudette! You were gone for like twenty minutes. It’s our turn to use the court. How do we warm-up?”

Marinette scanned the other side of the court to where Gotham Middle stood huddled, occasionally glancing back at her teammates. All except one. Damian stood alone, his arms crossed, his eyes closed. If she didn’t know any better, she would think he was meditating.

“Let’s work on passing. It’s something we all struggle with and I think we’ll really need it with this team.”

Five minutes passed and as they lined up for the beginning of the first set, Marinette’s eyes locked onto his from across the court. She already had a fire burning when she stepped into the gym, but it was as if he threw coal at her until she was ablaze ready to annihilate anything in her path.

“We will win.”

Her teammates shared a look of skepticism, but none voiced their concerns. They didn’t have to. It had only been ten minutes, but the score was already 12 - 0. The only one drenched in sweat was Marinette. The energy for the rest had been drained after the first service ace.

“Nino! Set me up!”

They were barely keeping the ball in the air with iffy passes that they were sure the ref was only letting slide out of pity. Nino was the only one who could decently set. It was nothing compared to the flawless and quick sets the King was serving on the other side, but Marinette could care less. All she wanted, was a chance to hit the ball.

His set was shaky, the ball wobbling as it flew, threatening to fall out of the sky at any moment. But to her, it was perfect. On instinct, Marinette jumped, her palm connecting to the ball. A satisfying thud came from the other side of the court as the gym silenced, trying to process what had happened.

“Did they just score?”

“Forget that, did you see how high she just jumped? She must’ve been a foot over the net!”

The whispers got louder until a single clap echoed from the crowd leading to another and another. As her feet touched the ground once more, Marinette immediately shot Damian a smug look. His mouth hung agape, his eyes a mixture of anger, and did she catch a hint of admiration? It was even more satisfying than the sound of the ball hitting the court.

“Why didn’t you get that?”

Marinette flinched as he turned on his teammates, his face fuming.

“Dude, you were in shock too! We didn’t think they had-”

“This is why you don’t underestimate anyone, ever. You give every team 100% of your effort.”

Damian turned back to the net, his eyes narrowing in on her. It took everything in her not to crumble as she picked up the ball, tossing it to Adrien. She had a kill. Her first one in a tournament and not even the terrifying demon behind her could stomp on her moment.

“Okay, guys! Here’s our chance. Let’s turn this around.”

Her excitement spread through the court, each of her teammate’s risking a smile. Their fire may not have been as bright as hers, but it was finally starting to shine through.

“You’re right Marinette. We can’t promise anything flashy like the King over there, but we will get you the ball. No matter what it takes.”

This was the chance she was waiting for, the chance to motivate her team. Now that she had their attention, she didn’t want to waste one second of it.

.  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“It was a close game Marinette. Please don’t be upset.”

Marinette waved off her friends, her smile tight.

“They won in two sets and we barely hit double digits both times, but it’s okay guys, really. Thank you so much for helping me out. I’m going to stay for a while, so go on without me. I wanna watch some more matches.”

Her friends shared a look of skepticism, but one by one they slowly stood, all leaving until she was the only one left. Marinette sighed as she stood herself, working up the courage to step back into the gym.

“I told you it was useless.”

Marinette glanced over her shoulder only to meet an annoyingly familiar face blocking the entrance.

“Don’t you have something better to do than gloat oh glorious king?”

“Tt, I only wanted to point out that your jump was impressive, but volleyball is not a sport that you can get by with athleticism alone. You set yourself up for failure.”

It was Marinette’s turn to scoff as she brushed past him, intent on not speaking another word.

“A piece of advice for you. Drop volleyball while it’s all fun and games for you. High school has no place for a foreigner with no talent.”

“I’ll beat you.” Her voice was soft but cold. Damian didn’t speak a response, but he didn’t move either as if he were taunting her to continue. Marinette turned her head until she had a full view of his scowling face. “Whether it be when fall comes and my team smoothers yours or even if it takes ten, twenty, no fifty years, I will destroy you King of the Court. All I have to do is be the last one standing, right?”

He didn’t respond, only offered her a small grunt before exiting the doors. Her eyes followed him until the bus doors closed and Gotham Middle pulled out of the parking lot.

“I will get better, just you wait Damian Wayne.” Marinette took a step forward, her eyes zeroing in on the match in front of her. High School was only three months away. Three short months to make her declaration a reality.

She smiled, the fire in her eyes stirring with a deadly glint. 

“Next time we meet, I will destroy the King of the Court.”

Permanent Tag List:

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[nagito-kissmaeda]

Arcade - Komaeda x Reader

ミ☆  Just a silly thing I wrote about an arcade employee being baffled while Komaeda clears out all the machines lol ミ☆ I’ve been feeling kind of down about my writing so i just wanted to do something fun. It’s not very good haha. I’m tired and i can’t write good asjfkakd

Night shift at the arcade is usually pretty quiet. Most people start leaving around dinner time and while there are usually still some hardcore gamers lurking around until the AM, most of them only come in on Friday’s or weekends. So the job is usually easy breezy, most nights you lean up on the counter and browse the internet on your phone until your shift ends.

Tonight though, you have been acutely watching as this guy moves from machine to machine. Absolutely clearing them out. You’ve never seen anything like it. Presently, you are crouched behind a claw machine filled with Hello Kitty plushies as this guy slips two bucks into the Big Bass Wheel cabinet. Your eyes drift over to the last cabinet he used, the Wizard of Oz coin pusher. It is empty , you have never seen that happen in the whole time you’ve worked here. You weren’t even sure it could happen.

The guy spins the wheel, it spins and spins and spins. Jackpot. Your eyes narrow, a jackpot isn’t too uncommon, it honestly isn’t even worth that many tickets, but then he nonchalantly slides in another two dollars and hits jackpot again . This is starting to get suspicious.

The machine is spitting out tickets now, so many tickets. Even the guy looks surprised, you are definitely surprised. Two jackpots is not worth that many tickets, but they just keep coming and coming. Machine fault? Must be. The guy looks almost resigned at this point, sighing unhappily as the tickets keep spewing out, like they’re wasting his time and not like this was a superhuman feat of luck. Then, the machine starts smoking.

“Shit!” You hiss, jumping up from your hiding place behind the claw machine and dashing over to the guy before anything catches on fire. You’ve caught him by surprise, he probably didn’t realise you were following him around, “out of the way, please!”

He ducks out of the way, pulling his armfuls worth of tickets along with him as you switch the arcade cabinet off at the wall. The machinery inside stops whirring and the smoke calms down. You wipe your forehead with the back of your hand, you’ve never seen a machine fault this badly before, you were probably going to need to file an indecent report. What a pain.

“You okay?” You ask the guy. He is a lot taller up close, and the shock of messy white hair on his head only makes him seem taller. He sways like a palm tree in the breeze, clutching onto his massive wad of tickets for dear life.

“I’m sorry. I broke your machine.”

Oh...his voice is softer than you had expected it would be. The lights from a nearby Daytona cabinet are reflecting in his green eyes. You swallow, “You didn't break anything, machine fault, it happens sometimes.”

His eyes drift away from you and over to the cabinet, the smoke has stopped now, it doesn't look like there was too much damage, but he looks very upset about it anyway.

“Hey, seriously, dont worry about it.” You give him an awkward pat on his forearm, “The machines in here are really old, stuff like this happens all the time.”

“Oh...ah…” He bites his lip, “If you’re sure…”

You smile, “Yeah, don't even sweat it. You can keep the tickets by the way, once they're out of the machine it's a nightmare to get them back in again, so consider it an apology for almost setting you on fire.”

He laughs weakly, “Thank you.”

“Hey, uh…” You start, not so subtle eyeing his ticket collection. A decent chunk of it was from that Big Bass Wheel malfunction, an already exorbitant number was won legit. More than you had ever seen anyone win before, “are you a cabinet master?”

“A...what?”

“Like, you know all the sweet spots on the machines. Technically not cheating, but not entirely legal either.”

His eyes widen, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” You shake your head at him, “You just won a lot of tickets is all. I’ve never seen someone win that many tickets.”

“I’m just really lucky. It’s all i'm good at, honestly.” He’s fiddling with the tickets in his arms, “My friend’s birthday is coming up and i'm trying to win her that Sailor Moon statue.”

It is true that there is a coveted Sailor Moon statue amongst the arcade’s prize collection. It’s huge, beautifully painted and according to your boss, incredibly rare . It’s been sitting there on the shelf for god knows how long, still tight in it’s shrinkwrap. Generally the most any player is able to afford is three or four sticky hands and a glow in the dark spider ring, but this guy is getting tantalisingly close.

You cross your arms and smirk at him, “You’re really that lucky?”

“Most of the time.”

“Okay then. You’re going to play Monster Drop next, it's the hardest cabinet we have.” You start heading over to the machine in the back of the arcade, it’s huge, you always forget how huge it is. The guy is diligently following behind you, shoulders hunched like he’s trying to make himself seem smaller. The pile of tickets in his arms rustling as he walks, “I’ve never seen anyone get a monster jackpot on this thing. Also my boss filled it with a bunch of different sized balls, so it's basically impossible to get a standard jackpot too, even after practicing at other arcades.”

“Hm. Is that really fair?”

You shrug a shoulder, “Nope. It’s big and loud, so lots of people want to play it and Boss doesn't want too many people winning. there's a catch though, raise the difficulty and you also raise the ticket payout. So if you manage to beat it, you'll be able to afford Sailor Moon.”

The current ticket payout is displayed in flashing red lights, 72,483 . With every failed attempt at hitting the monster jackpot the payout just gets higher and higher, those tantalising numbers draw in more kids hoping to be the one who gets lucky. A number that big means the cabinet has never been won, a smart arcade goer knows that a number like that means stay away.

“How do I play?” He asks, dropping his ticket collection on the ground at his feet.

“Ah, it’s deceptively simple.” You grab his hand and tug him over to the machine, gesturing up at where the balls drop down from, “You just need to press the button to let out a ball, and that’s literally it. The base of the machine spins around to make it harder to get the balls in. Monster jackpot is in the middle, so you would think a straight drop down would jackpot you every time but-”

He smirks wryly, “it’s never that easy is it?”

“Of course not! We’d never make any money if it was.”

He laughs to himself, pulling another coin out of his pocket and clinking it into the machine, “Ah, only one turn?”

You hold up a finger, “Just the one.”

He laughs again, “Brutal.”

“Very.” You take a step back to give him room to familiarise himself with the machine. Most people like to observe it from a few angles, take some time, watch at least one cycle before using up their one shot, “Good luck.”

He turns to you and smiles, “Thanks, but like i said, this is the one thing i'm good at.” He pushes the button, he isn't even looking at the machine, the rotating base hasn't even finished half a cycle. This guy is ballsy.

Despite his gumption, the ball falls a little short of the monster jackpot, “Aw, bad luck-” you start saying, but then it starts bouncing. Once off the base, three times off the sides, up high into the air and then plonk . Straight into the monster jackpot. All you can do is stare. Not only did he get the jackpot, he got it in a rigged machine while he wasn't even looking .

He laughs politely, the sound barely audible of the cabinet’s furious ringing bells and sirens signalling an impossible feat just happened here, everyone look! The tickets have started dispensing, with over 70k to print, it's going to be a long wait, “Jeez, that was scary. I almost thought my luck had run out there!”

He looks completely relaxed as he starts folding the fresh tickets into the neatest pile he can manage, “Are you a god or something?”

“Huh?” He says, blinking down at you, “That’s such a strange thing to ask me.”

“You just beat Monster Drop without looking . I’ve seen professional cabinet masters come in here and still lose after examining the machine for a good two hours!”

“Oh, no need to be impressed. I didn't actually do anything.” He smiles sadly and continues collecting his tickets, “It’s not really much of a talent, but i suppose it comes in handy sometimes.”

You clap a palm to your forehead, unable to believe what you are hearing, “You’re going to have enough tickets for the Sailor Moon statue and enough leftover for like...unlimited sticky hands.”

He taps a finger to his lips, “Oh! I would like some sticky hands.”

“How many?”

His brow creases as he considers it, “Three or four, i guess.”

“Three or-” you start laughing, “Buddy, i could pour the whole box into your bag if you wanted.”

“I don't think i need that many sticky hands, but it's very kind of you to offer.”

“We also have glow in the dark spider rings, and a robust selection of slinkies. Oh! If you really want to splurge we have a pair of slippers that resemble a character from Rick and Morty.”

He grimaces, “I would prefer the slinkies.”

You hear the arcade cabinet’s ticket dispenser finally come to a stop, and despite his good natured effort to collect the tickets in a neat pile, they are still all bunched up around his ankles. You are about to ask him another question when you quickly realise that the Monster Drop machine is now also smoking.

He sighs, “I should have known.”

You don't have time to look into that comment, you are too busy scrambling around to the back of the machine so you can turn the power off at the wall. Much like last time, you catch it before anything actually catches on fire. This has been a very eventful day.

“Hey, uh-” you start awkwardly, pulling yourself up from the ground and moving to help the guy contend with his ticket pile, “I finish in like half an hour...if you need help carrying your miscellaneous arcade prizes back to your car or whatever…”

He blinks at you as you both reach the prize counter and deposit the monstrous ticket collection onto the bench, “I should be okay on my own...but if you want to come I wouldn't mind, though I can’t guarantee I won’t set anything else on fire…” he chuckles nervously and you give him a quizzical look.

You do want to go with him, you aren't sure if it’s just a morbid curiosity about his luck with the arcade machines, or a fascination with the soft halo of white hair falling into his eyes, but you want to get to know him better, “I’ll come with you. You don’t have anywhere near enough fingers for all the glow in the dark spider rings I’m about to give you.” You say as you round the counter and start organising his tickets into more manageable piles.

He smiles, “that does sound like a good idea. I don’t want to drop any of my brand new sticky hands, after all.” He leans forward on the counter, blinking up at you. He’s got really pretty eyelashes, “I’m Nagito Komaeda, in case you were wondering.”

You laugh, “Nice to meet you, Nagito. Now give me 20 minutes to count all your damn tickets.”

[hiro-gari]

omggg I love your writing! could you write a garou x reader where garou realizes he has feelings for y/n and at first is in denial and is all like "romance no, hero hunting yes" but as he tries to distance himself from y/n, his mind always goes back to their good memories together, and so he ends up confessing but he's all awkward about it lol (we all know this poor boy is not good with words lmaooo)

HI, thank you so much!! 🥺💖 Of course, I love this poor, clueless guy T-T

Tongue Tied

Garou x reader

SFW, some cursing

It had only been three days. Somehow, it felt like ages.

But this was for the best. For himself, and for you. A clean break with no explanations, and no lingering attachments. With how smart you were, Garou was certain you’d be able to make a convincing argument against the violent path he’d devoted himself to. Your presence alone might even be enough to sway him. Or, maybe, you’d overwhelm him with your acceptance, as you had so many times, and you’d support him leaving, if it meant achieving his dream.

Either scenario sounded awful. So he avoided them both, and disappeared without a trace.

The problem was, you were everywhere. No matter which City or run down suburb he wandered into, he saw you; a silhouette amongst the crowd that would seem a bit too similar, a laugh that could have been yours, that song you mentioned you loved drifting from some shop. Though absent, Garou couldn’t escape you.

So he poured all of his energy into his goals, fighting until he was depleted, over and over. To hell with the class and rank of his opponents, any fight was better than letting his mind wander, right?

~

The Class B hero on the ground before him never stood a chance. It could barely even be considered a victory; he was only a tally to add on the list of heroes that Garou the Hero Hunter had put in the hospital.

Although this guy might have ended up there sooner rather than later, with the way he was panting after barely a few blows had been exchanged. He was on his knees, the contents of his pockets strewn across the street. It wasn’t the coins that caught Garou’s attention, though, he could do just fine without it.

However, in his hand now were two very intriguing pieces of paper. They were a pair of tickets to some horror flick he never would have paid any mind to, if it weren’t for you.

“You’ve never seen it? Really?! I thought you’d be all about it, being a monster guy and all.”

A softness came over him at the memory. Wouldn’t it be something, to sit next to you in a dark theater, watching some slasher film rife with Hollywood jump scares? It would be just the perfect opportunity to stretch his arm around your shoulder reassuringly, to take in your sweet smell as you relax into his chest. It was a late night showing too...

He crumpled them tightly in his fist, gritting his teeth.

Enough.

The man on the ground made a pitiful show of flailing at him meekly. It was puzzling, as he hardly had a scratch on him.

“H-Hero Hunter-... we will take you down...”

“Shut it. I’m not in the mood,” Garou growled back, swatting him away effortlessly, “you could’ve at least put up a fight.”

Ignoring the hero’s indignant spluttering, Garou sauntered off, taking his time, in hopes that backup might arrive. The distant voice over the loudspeaker, however, was making it seem less and less probable.

“-please evacuate immediately and seek shelter. This is a disaster level Demon.”

No doubt that’s got all their attention right now. Figures.

The large screens on the buildings nearby showed aerial footage of the destruction as the newscast announcers prattled on in a panic.

“We’re receiving reports of massive destruction to areas of City S! Dozens of businesses and residential areas have been flattened in a matter of minutes. The train station has been obliterated, cutting off transportation in and out of-”

He stuttered to a halt, straightening suddenly. The first time you met, hadn’t you said…

“I’m here every day of the week, Monster Boy. You’ll have to stop by again sometime, I’ve gotta catch the 6:00 train home.”

“Y/N.”

He took off at a full sprint.

~

The skyscraper sized monster, satisfied with the destruction he’d caused, was lumbering off towards the next town, trailing heroes behind them.

For the first time, Garou paid them no mind. The block was nearly unrecognizable with all the rubble strewn around. He felt somewhat relieved to see the café you worked at was still standing, though the front sign was nowhere in sight, and not a single intact window remained. It seemed the area had been evacuated before any casualties. However, it was becoming clear you certainly weren’t returning to work any time soon, and the realization hit him like a blow to the chest.

In the back of his mind had always been the comforting thought that you’d be here. Here with your smile, your harmless banter, your laugh; simple things he could always count on to come back to if things went awry.

Now they were gone, obliterated in an instant, and it pissed him off to no end. A new mission presented itself clearly, outshining all thoughts of hunting heroes and becoming a monster.

I’ll find Y/N again. I swear it.

The promises he made to himself were always the strongest.

It wouldn’t be an easy feat. He knew very little about where you lived, or the places you went outside of this, but he was already forming a plan in his mind. He could start with the list of all the stops the 6:00 train made from here, and thoroughly scour each of the residential areas until he found you.

And when I find Y/N, I’ll say everything. I’ll say-

The crunch of footsteps falling on broken glass snapped him out of his thoughts, his muscles tightening defensively.

“Garou?”

It couldn’t be, surely.

But there you were; a bag over your shoulder, a phone in your hand, slowly making your way toward him from the corner you’d be hunkered down in. The look on your face that told him you hadn’t forgotten how he’d disappeared without so much as a goodbye, and he felt an unfamiliar pang of guilt settling in his stomach.

“Y/N-”

You cocked a brow at him, relaxing slightly as you came closer. All the things Garou wanted to say fell flat as you eyed him, studying the countless new scars he’d acquired since the last time he’d seen you.

“What are you doing here?” You tried cautiously, unnerved by his uncharacteristic silence, “All the heroes have moved on, chasing down that big oaf,” you gestured toward the receding chaos behind him.

“I was getting to them,” he replied with a tilt of his chin, “what are you still doing here?” It came out sounding like an accusation, and he kicked himself internally.

You shrugged, undeterred by his sharpness as always,

“Waiting for someone to come pick me up. With the way things have been going, I’m sure I’d be taken out by a monster in no time,” you added with an awkward laugh.

He needed to say something, and he was painfully aware that this was his chance, here and now.

I’m your Monster Boy. You could let me take you out.

It didn’t seem quite right, and the way it came out sounded even worse.

“I can be the monster that takes you out.”

No. That’s a threat. Fuck.

You blinked at him, looking equally horrified.

“I meant-” He waved vaguely, shaking his head, “you know what I meant- are you laughing?” You were trying not to, practically doubling over with the effort, but this attempt of his was appalling, almost to the point of hilarity given the circumstances.

“Garou,” you said, shaking, “I have no idea what you’re trying to say here.”

Words. Words weren’t gonna work.

But in his palm, crushed and slightly damp with sweat at this point, remained some hope of salvation. He fumbled with the pieces of paper, trying to straighten them to the point of legibility. He held them between his thumb and forefinger, and leaned unnervingly close as he pointed at the title.

“This movie. You said you liked it, right?” You tilted your head in confusion, his stare making it all the more difficult to concentrate. If you squinted, you found you could barely make out the words, and you nodded slowly.

“Great!” He breathed a sigh of relief, grinning. “So we’re going.”

Your eyebrows shot up suspiciously at his sudden change of tone.

“It’s late,” you crossed your arms, looking up at him slyly, “and I’m here on the street alone with a monster. Do I have much of a choice?”

The edge in your voice was a challenge. He’d be damned if he backed down.

“Will you…” he pointed to you, for emphasis, “Go see this movie. With me.” He paused a moment, considering. “Please, Y/N.”

Your face changed completely, and for a moment, his heart sank. It almost seemed like you were about to cry, or maybe even try to swing at him. Had he said it wrong? But then you were flinging your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you buried your face into his shoulder, stretching up on your tip-toes.

“Of course I will,” you said quietly, letting him feel your words as you breathed against his skin. “Have me home at a decent hour though-”

Your words became a squeak of surprise as he wrapped his arms around you tightly, and hoisted you up with ease until he was carrying you.

“Better get going then,” he planted a kiss on your forehead apologetically, feeling your face blush red hot. You weren’t complaining though, and he took that as a green light to get moving. You were his tonight, and that thought alone was enough to make him giddy with excitement.

“Why- why did you come here, really?” You asked, repositioning yourself so you could study his face. His brow furrowed. Words always came so easily to him, so why did he always find himself so tongue-tied with you?

“Felt shitty. Didn’t see you for days. It sucked.” His concentration deepened with each pause, searching for the right words with seemingly immense difficulty. You kissed his cheek, nearly making him stumble, and he felt a small smile growing on your lips.

“I missed you too, Monster Boy~”

[kyeomunism]

Journal of the Bruised || Sirius Black

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Marauders Era

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: In which Sirius gets fascinated by the spitfire witch after reading her hopes and goals in a research journal.

Warnings: slight wounds, swearing, anxious thoughts, mentions of toxic parents, suggestive flirting, making out, me abusing my prompts I'm supposed to use for twelve different fanfics... (i think that's it, please tell me if I missed something.)

y/h/c=your hair color

y/l/n=your last name

y/n=your name (or just yeen:))

︵‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・༺❀༻・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ︵‿︵‿︵

You carefully step over some gigantic vines as you stroll around the forbidden forest. With a journal on your hand, wand in your pocket, and the bright moonlight over your head, you crouch down to get a closer look at some thorny branches and see a gleaming strand of unicorn hair entangling within it. You carefully save it in your pocket for your potions ingredients collection.

You stand up to get back to the castle without anyone noticing because getting detention would be a blow. You increase your pace, a hoard of centaurs being the least of your woes, considering the distant howls you've been hearing.

Your fear of getting in trouble at Hogwarts is just a result of your parent's high expectations, but you'll risk it for the sake of adding something to your journal. You love going to the woods at night just to pick a rare plant, animal hair, or at lucky nights, beast eggs. The moon is so bright you don't need to pull your wand out to illuminate the path.

Within a heartbeat, a loud thundering howl followed by ground-quaking steps electrify your spine. Instinct tells you to run immediately but the feel of something else's presence just several meters away glues your feet to the ground. You slowly reach for your wand as you turn. There's nothing there, but it feels like you're being watched.

A small rat came running near your direction as you inhale deeply, backing up towards the shadows just in case. A huge stag suddenly appears from where the rat came from, followed by an enthusiastic bear...no wait, you squint hard and could make up a large dog. The howling returns but this time, it's louder and scarier. Shivers overwhelm you as a full size werewolf came out of the shadows. Your free hand fly towards your mouth to stifle your terrified gasp.

You move away but not carefully enough, swearing all of them looked at your direction. The next second, you're running for your life, not daring to look back. All you know is that not only the werewolf is coming your way, but also the stag and the dog, and you don't care why. Nothing else matters as you make efforts not to scream nor show your face. It becomes harder for you through the thorny vines, wincing as the branches sting you.

Nobody can know you've been breaking the rules, not if it means getting many wounds or getting devoured alive. Nobody can know, or else your parents may force you to quit your hobbies and start preparing for work at the ministry. Oh you'd rather be dead than live without your passion.

The fear and panic about your future drives you out of the forest, not realizing until you find yourself catching breaths and applying pressure on wounds. You sit on the ground, listening to the distant howling that nearly became the last thing you heard. You check your pockets, your wand and the unicorn hair is still there.

"Damnit! Where's my journal?" You whisper-shout, bitter expression from your stinging wounds and the years long research now gone. Having the urge to lay there and cry until morning, you have no choice but to sneak back in the castle.

༺∘◦ ❀ ◦∘༻

"Who do you think that bloke was, Prongs?" Sirius asks as they sit beside Remus's hospital wing bed. "Doesn't matter now, does it? Whoever they are, they shouldn't have been idiotic enough to take a walk in the forest during a full moon," James says rather loudly.

"How 'bout you, Moons, who do you bet was it?" Peter pipes up.

"Doesn't matter, I could've killed them, worse, I could've bitten them," Remus says weakly.

Sirius brushes it off with a whole new full-proof plan for the next full moon. Something that Remus doesn't look forward to, but somehow enjoy with his friends' company. The marauders later spends the whole weekday morning in the hospital wing with the food Sirius, James and Peter got from the kitchens. The topics change each moment, until James finds a way to mock Sirius with his failed attempts at flirting with you.

"Just go talk to her!" James says between laughs.

"She doesn't even acknowledge me."

"I don't think so, it was only last quidditch practice when I heard her yell, suck it Black, when you got hit by a bludger." James, Remus and Peter laughs as Sirius's eyes widen.

Before Sirius could retort, "I gotta go prepare for my date with Evans now." James suddenly gets up, hastily messing up his hair and pocketing some sweets as his friends laugh at his ridiculous behavior.

"I'll stay here and finish these," Peter says while munching on some toast.

"I still want to know who's the owner of the journal I found a while ago. You sure you'll be good here, mate?" Sirius asks, to which Remus replies with a nod and goodluck.

༺∘◦ ❀ ◦∘༻

You're trying out spells to hide your puffy eyes from crying throughout dawn, frustratedly healing wounds. You don't want to miss breakfast to avoid suspicion, but it's hard to act normal. You finally look decent enough to your liking, but the potion made from the ingredients in your trunk did not do well on a gash on the back of your right hand, leaving a bruise. You decide to hide it in your Hogwarts robes and eat breakfast quickly.

After breakfast, you find yourself staring at the raven haired boy at the end of the hallway. Not that you expect him to care or notice you, but an inch of hope is still there. His usual unkempt hair that touches his face with such grace is just one of the many things you find attractive about him, but there was something different this time. He was holding a book, a very unusual thing to see since it's weekend.

You gasp as you walk closer in his direction, it's your journal. The thing you poured hardwork on, contains researches, discoveries and a list of dreams that had been ridiculed by your own parents. It was an extension of your soul, and it was being held by the Sirius Black.

He noticed you staring. "What's your deal, y/l/n, did you ran out of ridiculous potions to dye your hair y/h/c?"

You snap back from your thoughts. "Just a near-death experience, Black. And for the record, my hair is naturally y/h/c."

You turn around with a pounding heart. How did he find the journal? Did he read the contents? Was it that embarrassing?

Sirius watched you walk away. What does she mean by near death experience?

He looks at the journal, scans it for the second time since he found it this dawn. It's well-written and perfectly organized. He could swear he had seen the handwriting before, and the initials scribbled at the first page. Sirius decides to follow you to see if his guess is right.

༺∘◦ ❀ ◦∘༻

You sit on a part of the Hogwarts grounds away from other students, having trouble figuring out how did Sirius got your journal.

"You could've just told me this was yours."

You almost got a whiplash with Sirius's voice appearing out of nowhere. You just stared at him, examining his sharp features under the sun.

"What do you want?"

"Do you want this back?" he says, lightly waving the journal in front of you.

With a sigh, you spoke softly, "yeah. Can I have it now?"

"No."

"What?" You ask in disbelief, standing up to look at his silvery eyes.

"No, you have to reach it."

You want to whip out your wand and Accio the journal but Sirius's grin made you reach out as he waves it high above your head.

"What's wrong with your hand?" You freeze and hastily adjust your sleeves to cover it.

"You know what, I'm going back to the castle," you say half-heartedly.

"Who did this to you? I'll hex them."

"A tree branch. I would very much enjoy watching you hex it. You'll look more stupid than you already are."

"As much as I love the idea, let me see your hand first. Sirius's gentle voice almost melted you while reluctantly showing the bruise on the back of your hand. Sirius holds it, muttering an incantation under his breath. The bruise disappears in an instant.

You fill up with sudden gratitude and mixed emotions.

"I owe y—"

"No you don't. I'm doing this because I want to, deal with it. Now, tell me where you hurt yourself. Then I'll let you have your journal back."

"Why do you care anyways? I told you, I got hurt from a tree branch."

"That bruise is a cause of a potion applied on a deep gash lacking the proper incantation. What were you doing in the forbidden forest?"

"Speaking from experiences, are we, Black?" You say, highly amused. "I was just wandering around and dropped it. Are you done?"

"No, I know the easiest kind of lying is when you leave things out of a story. You could've been bitten or got killed. You're lucky Prongs and I saw you first."

You almost choked. "Excuse me? I don't know what you're talking abou—"

"I was there, me and my friends. It's a long story, y/n, so could you start first?" Your cheeks heat up at the sound of Sirius saying your first name.

"I don't think you'll understand, I'm my parent's disappointment, I'm the opposite of what they want me to be. Instead of doing my purpose, I'm out here wasting my time, trying to cope using the dumbest ways possible." You start venting out as you sit on the grass beside him.

"Believe me, I know exactly what that feels like, love." They both mentally freeze as the words slip though his mouth.

"I go through the forest just to write about the things I find there. Something I couldn't get from sitting in the library. That journal contains my hard work."

"I can tell. It's impressive and elaborate."

"Uhm, thanks. Y-you wouldn't tell anyone I was in the forest, would you?" You say hesitantly.

"If I'd tell the professors about your midnight strolls, I might as well be turning the marauders in for expulsion."

"Marauders?"

"It's my turn to explain," Sirius utters with a sigh.

You watch the handsome boy talk about his friends; how they had to transform into Animagi for the sake of keeping their friend's company—which greatly impressed you—and their mischievous whereabouts. You've never heard Sirius speak this gentle.

There so many things you wanted to say, but can't form words. "Sirius..."

His eyes meet yours for the first time you mentioned his name, and it's in a tone that he wouldn't trade for the world.

"...can I visit Remus?" you continue.

He smiles at you—a genuine smile that made your heart leap—and takes you back to the castle without a word. He gives the journal to you on the way.

Your steps are slow and steady, as if the air has never been more comfortable. You finally got to the hospital wing, and see Remus lying in bed, reading a book next to a pile of sweets his friends placed there. He looks at the two of you with a questioning stare.

"Remus, I... I was the person who saw you in the forest. Sirius told me about..."

"I'm sorry."

You felt taken aback with Remus's response.

"No, I should be sorry, I wasn't thinking. I shouldn't have been sneaking around late at night."

"That's actually a difficult habit to stop, y/n. Not that I tried," Sirius pipes up, earning chuckles from you and Remus.

You eventually become good friends with the marauders. Remus is glad you become friends because of his condition, and not inspite of it. Sirius would always ask about your day, which earns a lot of teases from James. You would still walk through the forbidden forest sometimes, but Sirius is always there to accompany you.

༺∘◦ ❀ ◦∘༻

Your NEWTs were coming near and Remus studied with you in the Gryffindor common room. It was late at night and completely silent, except for your small discussions about some topics. Several minutes pass and you find yourself talking about your feelings for Sirius, to which Remus never fail to respond with the best advices.

"Sometimes I wonder if Sirius feels the same..."

"You don't have to wonder," Remus says.

"Why?"

"Because he's right behind you." You almost jump as you hear him speak. "Mind to take a break from studying, y/n?"

You look at Remus, who shrugged with a smile. You get up and take a walk with Sirius. It was a comfortable silence, casually avoiding spots where you know people can see you and get you in detention. Your mind was going places thinking about a possible future with him. You didn't even realize you're in the astronomy tower if it wasn't for the sudden hug if cold air. You watch his eyes sparkle under the stars, standing at the huge overview of the tower.

"You wanna know how I feel about you?" You gulp at the way he broke the silence. You don't think you'll ever be ready to know. Your eyes finally met and it sent your bones to flames.

"I love you, y/n. And I've never felt more sure about anything in the world, fuck that, you are my world." The sincerity in his tone melted your brain, you couldn't string up a word.

"I can't believe we're finally here." Your throat starts to tighten with the struggle of words. "I was so scared to lose you, but I was also scared to say anything."

"Does that mean...?"

"Face first to the point and you still missed it. Of course I love you too, you idiot!"

You laugh as you jump into his arms, he gladly hugs you tight. The warmth and comfort that you felt contrasting to the cold night air felt so right.

"Hogsmeade, this weekend?" He whispers to your ear which sends shivers through your spine.

"Yes, but I don't wanna end up in detention after that."

"That's also a good idea for a first date."

You let go of the hug to look at his face.

"There's a fine line between liking you and wanting to hex you to oblivion."

"And I cross it everytime."

"Oh yes you do."

"You love it though."

"Hmm...yes I do."

With one meaningful look in his face, you press your lips against his. It's soft and gentle, firm and promising. His hand cups your face, thumb caressing your cheek. You wrap your arms around his warm body, feeling his heartbeat under his perfectly chiseled chest. After what seems like a beautiful forever, you pull away. The second you back up, a whistle and cheering made you jump.

"Prongs, Wormtail, what the hell are you doing here?" Sirius called the crackheads by the door.

"We saw you in the map, thought we've come to see the show," James says smugly.

"Want a treacle tart, y/n?" Peter says while holding half a dozen of them.

"No thanks I—"

"Hey, I thought you snuck out to the kitchens to get those for me?" You hear the distant voice of Remus, who clearly made an effort to leave his studies just to get his friends away from trouble.

"Nah Moons, 'tis the best part right here, I wanna know if Sirius messed this up," James continues with such a bright tone.

"Oh sod off, mate!" Sirius laughs as Remus take the two grown children away.

"Where were we?" You coo.

His lips brush yours passionately, like a fiery tease. You barely had a second to react and you already granted his tongue in the seam of your lips. He delved in your mouth, making you breathless. Your arms travels up to tangle around his neck to his luscious black hair. He pulls you even closer and you inhale sharply as his lips form into a smirk. He began peppering your neck with delicate kisses. You can't get enough of it, you let out pleasured tones that feels like godly music to him.

"Please, Siri... I need you."

"Absolutely, love. I will be gentle and make sure you can still walk after."

"I have seen your exes walk, no you won't," you reply. He chuckles between kisses that turned you on even more. The rest of the night will forever be one of the best things you've ever experienced.

༺∘◦ ❀ ◦∘༻

After graduating, you and Sirius joined the Order, fighting with and for each other.

One day, you and Sirius comes home from an Order mission, you have a slight bruise on your hand after falling over once in a duel with a Deatheater.

"What's wrong with your hand?" Sirius asks. Your lips forms a smile at the sudden flashback of his words.

"It's not holding yours," you reply. He lets out a bark of laughter as he checks your hand. His laugh is the nicest thing to watch and listen to.

"Wanna know what's wrong with your hands?" you ask him.

"Hmm?"

"They're not around my neck." Before you even finish the sentence you both are already laughing loudly.

He did fix what's wrong with his hand later that day, which you absolutely love.

You continue writing all your researches on your journal as you participate in the war. It all paid off because of Sirius, despite your parents' disapproval. You're with him and that's all that matters.

You eventually publish several informative books, with Sirius always by your side to support you. You both are proud of the fact that your books became the foundation research for Damocles Belby in creating the wolfsbane potion.

[ninjakasuga]

Sonally Celebration, Year 3, Day Seven & Eight.

Sonally Celebration Week, Year Three, Day Seven & Eight: Slip & Rest.

Due to work wearing me down some I took day seven off and combined both prompts together since they can work nicely together. I had a blast again this year, and maybe I can muster the drive to get my solo-writing back on track, as well as get back to some hiatus’d RP’s I owe people.

Slip & Rest:

Setting her stylus pen down, Sally’s eyes glanced over the proposal she had finished penning on her tablet device. Once she was satisfied with the outline, and it’s concise word usage, she manually saved the document, and then had it sent to each of the Acorn Council members to go over, and give their input before they agreed on a finalized draft to implement. “Done, and done! Nicole, what's next on the docket for today?”

Materializing from one of the many holographic emitters through the castle, Nicole the Lynx appeared. Sporting a rather nice looking lavender, women's business suit. With the dress shirt under the suit jacket a lovely cream-pink. Hands folded, she smiled at Sally as her eyes closed briefly. “Absolutely nothing else! You’re finished for the day!”

Sally blinked, and looked at the clock at her desk, “How can that be? It’s only two o’clock, I should have more work until four or four-thirty. I could have sworn I had a remaining proposal to look over-.”

With a simple wave of her hand in a dismissive gesture, Nicole interjected politely. “You did, but I delegated it, as I did the rest of your itinerary.”

Flabbergasted, Sally pushed back from her desk, but remained sitting. “W-why?! Why did you do that Nicole? Some of those documents could use my oversight!”

“Yes, but also no. None of them were documents that couldn’t be looked over by the right delegate who is knowledgeable of the topic. They will have to cross your desk again, but for today others can do your work.” Hands now behind her back, Nicole’s smile faded, her expression now mild disappointment, and also full of concern. “You’re starting to overwork yourself again, and above all else, you’re still recovering from your ‘slip’.”

Grimacing, Sally looked down at her right leg, which was in a cast. “I’m sitting down, and off of it-.” “Doctor’s orders were to elevate it as much as possible. You can’t do that at a desk.” The Lynx stated in a firm, chiding manner as she moved closer and eyed the leg in question. “Why aren’t you doing this from bed or a couch at least?”

Sighing, Sally dragged a hand over her face. “Because, I get comfy, and I want to rest, I start to let my mind wander, or get nap-craven…”

An amused expression crossed the cyber-lynx’s face as she steps closer and places a hand on Sally’s shoulder. The nanites in her hologram made her body solid so she could do so. “That’s what you get when you don’t get enough rest. Your body will eventually start to remind you it has needs.”

Whining a little, a rarity from Sally unless she was ‘tired’. “I just have so much to do-.” “You have people to delegate your workload, myself included.” Reminded Nicole with an all-too-familiar tone of playful snark. “Sally this isn’t the war, you don’t need to take the world on your shoulders.”

Running a hand through her hand, Sally sighed again. Deep down she knew Nicole was right, but she had her reasons for being hyper-focused on certain aspects of work. “I know, I know, but after what happened in Spagonia last year, I wanted to hit hard on stemming any further diplomatic issues that have cropped up since-.”

The hand on her shoulder softly squeezed, empathy deep in Nicole’s voice. “I know you’re worried about a repeat of the kidnapping. Nor have any relations with other countries soured over bad diplomacy; but the whole incident was staged by a handful of greedy jerks.”

 “Greedy jerks, with a lot of pull, and a decent sized following of morons who bought their spiel, hook, line and sinker.” Sally reminded Nicole, shuddering as the memory of the whole incident made her heart clench in terror. The fear of someone wanting to hurt her babies to get back at her never truly left her. “I can’t let that happen again, ever.”

“None of us want it to happen again. That’s why we made those bracelet watches with two of my A.I.’s to be with them at all times. Whisper and Tangle are their new bodyguards and they’re among the best, and you and Sonic have been teaching them to defend themselves. In fact…” Nicole gestured to Sally’s leg. “That’s how you got that, you got over-zealous showing them some of your moves.”

A blush formed on Sally’s cheeks, going up to the tips of her ears. After the kidnapping incident, both Sonic and she wanted to start the children learning some basic self-defense. They made it a full family event with all four of them practicing, and the kids were really receptive. Then again, they always liked to see their parents show off for them, and neither Sonic nor she could resist those eyes, and pouty lips for too long.

So Sally decided last week to really show off some of her acrobatics. Even after all these years, a lot of it just came back to her, even the skills she rarely used since the war (she did keep up some of her training as an exercise regime) she found herself slipping back into use without too much catch-up practice. However, Sally was now over thirty, and was a bit more… ‘filled-out’ since her teen years. So during one wall-flip and somersault onto another surface maneuver, she miscalculated and ended up landing on her one leg, the wrong kind of way.

Luckily the break wasn’t bad, but of course Dr. Jolene had insisted on bed-rest for the majority of the next month, and to stay off the leg as much as possible. For the first two weeks, Sally obliged the order; until the itch to crack at her work got the better of her. Deep down Sally knew she was being somewhat unreasonable, but she couldn’t just be lazy all day when things had to be done!

Realizing she’d been silent for a time, and Nicole was looking at her with curious concern. Sally shook her head. “I'm well aware of how my leg got injured.” Hands on her desk, she stood up, making sure to lean on her good leg, and not let go of the desk. Reaching for her crutches, she managed to slip them under her arms and eased from the desk. In such a quick motion, Nicole didn’t have a chance to offer to help her with them. “In anycase, even if my other tasks have been delegated, I can still stop by the Council Chamber to-.”

Having had her fill of indulging the notion Sally might listen to reason and ‘rest’, Nicole decided to act and clapped her hands. Instantly she was connected to the intercom of the library. “Sonic, your lovely wife is trying to hobble out to the Council to work when she should be resting.

Eyes wide, and panic setting in, Sally glared at the Lynx who just smiled widely. “Nicole you traitor!” She turned to try and ‘hobble off’, but she could already hear not one, but three ‘booms’, followed by the sound of fast footsteps. Sally could only make a ‘meep’ sound as the door to her office flew open, and there stood her husband and children. “H-hey you three, you didn’t need to interrupt afternoon reading time. I was just seeing myself-.”

Sonic didn’t say a word, he simply crossed the distance, and instantly scooped Sally into his arms. Carrying her just like he always did. “Save the excuses for the Doc, you’re going back to bed. No work, at all. Nicole hun, can I count on you to do your thing?”

“Always my main Hog.” She smiled ever widely, nodding and with a bow, her physical form dissolved as she rejoined the castle’s nanite-network to go about her duties.

Wiggling in Sonic’s grasp, Sally puffed her cheeks, trying to look miffed, but only made herself look like a petulant child. “I can move on my own! I have crutches!” “Denied babe, kids, can you pick up the crutches for me?”

“Yes Dad!” The two seven year olds each grab and crutch and heft the item. The two lay their gazes upon their mother, practically mimicking their Father’s disappointment.

“Mama…” Kathleen puffed her cheeks, and attempted to intensify her glare. “You’re supposed to be resting!”

 As they followed their Father into the hallway, J.C. began to count off as he joined his sister in roasting their mother. “Doctor’s orders, Dad’s orders, Auntie Nicole’s orders, Aunt Bunnie and Uncle Twan’s orders-.”

“I know, I know!” Sally threw up her arms, admitting defeat, if not entirely in a graceful manner. Arms crossed she grumbled as Sonic carried her, she looked to her husband. “Isn’t carrying me a bit much?” She seemed to get more antsy about this fact, than her family putting her in the spotlight.

“Nope.” With a foot he kicked the door open softly, yet swiftly.

“...Aren’t I heavy?”

“Still nope.” Sonic eyed his wife, taking notice of his wife’s look of self-consciousness about the weight comment. “Hey kids, can you do me a solid?” He turned his head to regard the apples of his eye, smiling all the while.

“What can we do for you Dad?” Asked J.C. as he set the crutch he had carried against the wall. Something his sister mimicked as they both gave Sonic their full attention.

“Zip to the kitchen, and if Miss Cream’s there, ask her to whip up some pasta, garlic bread for dinner, and whatever else you two want. After you’re done, go and play, I got Mama from here.”

“Are you sure Daddy?” Kathleen raised an eyebrow. “Mama can be wily.”

He chuckled, gosh the kids were picking up those fancy words their Mama liked to use. “She can, but I can be more, that word you used. I got this.” He smiled and winked at the two children.

After a beat, the two children shared a look. “They’re gonna be gross.” Kathleen surmised after a moment. “Probably.” Her twin nodded, and the two rushed out of the room, making sure to close the door behind them. “Sheesh, us gross?” He grinned at Sally as he brought her to the bed, carefully settling her into her side. “How slander’in can you get? By our own kids!”

Unable to help herself, Sally giggled, lifting her leg as Sonic fit a pillow under her cast-laden limb. “Well to them, us kissing and being cuddly can be seen as gross.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged, gazing at his beautiful wife for a moment. Soaking in the view before taking her hand into his. “Something up Sal? I mean besides you not taking bed-rest orders, why’re you so touchy about me picking you up? Do you really think you’re heavy or something?”

“W-well…” The blush returned, from her neck to her ears. As those emerald eyes gazed upon her she looked away. “W-well I am, thicker than before-.” “Sal, it’s called having kids. Even I know most women have some ‘thicc’ added afterward. You’re still gorgeous as ever, plus you still work out, and keep in shape.” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re the last person I’d consider fat hun. Why did someone accuse you of such?”

“No, no this is entirely on me. I’ve just noticed it more, at how ‘thicc’ I am as you’ve put it. Plus without being able to work out due to my leg, it’s like...I just notice so easily when I’ve gained weight.” She rubbed her arms, feeling so vain about being worried over her figure or weight. “I just, wonder if I was off my jump that messed up my leg because of all this extra weight on me…”

“Ahh, I see…” Sonic still felt she was being silly, but he knew he shouldn’t dismiss her concerns either. Kicking his shoes off, he rounded the bed and climbed on from his side so he could sit next to her. Slipping his arm around her waist he leaned in and rested his cheek to hers. “Sally, sweetie, trust me you’re still fine as ever. That said, I could ask the Doc if there’s some exercises you can do without your legs, and we can ask the cook staff to give ya’ mostly light meals until you’re well enough to exercise properly again.”

“I think I would like that…” She murmured, leaning into him and enjoying the contact.

“As for your weight being why you got hurt… We’re both getting older, but Sal, babe, lookit me.” Once she did he leaned in, kissing her softly. “Just cuz’ your hips, boobs and thighs are a li’ thicker than before. Doesn’t mean you still aren’t looking after yourself, you keep in shape, and well… babe, last year you tore through a buncha armed idiots with just a sword, boots and fists. None of em’ laid a hand on you. You are not losing your touch.”

“I guess, I am being a bit silly…” Sally was still not entirely convinced, but it was nice to hear Sonic’s words. Sure he could charm and butter up anyone if he tried; but she knew him well enough when he was BS’ing. Now wasn’t the case. “Although I could argue you are biased.”

He merely grinned. “So I’m biased, I happen to enjoy being biased toward the woman I married.”

“Good to know, though truth be told.” Nuzzling his cheek, Sally peppered him with soft kisses. “I’m rather biased toward the wonderful man I married.”

After the two embraced again, Sonic leaned back and gently booped her nose. “Now if you’ll just relax and get some rest…”

“I get it, I get it, I know when I’m licked Sonic.”

His eyebrows waggle, “I haven’t done any of that… yet.” A laugh tore from her throat as she lightly smacked his arm. “Sonic!! Hahaha, oh you’re terrible!” “I dunno, you didn’t complain last time.” Arms reclining behind his head, the hedgehog clearly enjoyed his wife’s laughter at his admittedly naughty commentary.

“N-no, I didn’t…” Snerking, Sally shook her head, fighting another blush on her cheeks. “I’m sorry I’ve been difficult, I just… I feel compelled to see things through myself.”

“I get’cha Sal, still, relax, rest.” He insisted as he eased her against her pillows. “I’ll rest with ya’.”

“Going to keep an eye on me, huh warden?”

“If the shoe fits.” He shrugged, his infuriating smile remaining on his face. 

With a dramatic sigh, Sally reclined against the pillows, arms up as if she expected to be cuffed and hauled away. “I submit myself to the court.” “Just be sure to repeat that, as the kids are just as concerned as I am.” He stated playfully, going for one last dig. A bit low, but he wanted her to contemplate on that.

“Ouch… right, ughh.” She dragged a hand over her face. “I probably haven’t been setting a good example for them…” Knowing her children, they would milk that for all they could.

“Eh, I can’t be the only one giving em’ bad habits.” Sonic conceded with a mild shrug, before wrapping his hand over hers. “Now, how about we just lie here and chill here until supper is ready?”

Smiling softly, Sally squeezed his hand. “It’s a date, Sonic.”

[un-beel-ievable]

The demon brothers making plushies that look like MC 🧸

Author’s note: Please do not repost!! If you like my writing, please leave a like and a comment (and follow me to see similar content in the future :D)!

_____

Lucifer ☕:

• It's impeccable, as everything Lucifer does is. Lucifer's attention to detail is second to none.

• He tries to play the plushie off as no big deal, but literally everyone can see how much effort he's put into his handicraft. The eyes of the plushie are the exact same hue as yours are (Remember when Lucifer disappeared for a week and didn't tell anyone where he was going? I'll tell you now -he was wandering from craft shop to craft shop, trying to find thread that would reflect just how beautiful your eyes are.), and he's somehow managed to replicate a tiny version of your favourite graphic tee -down to the small imperfection on the printed design.

• Wherever he goes, the plushie follows. If he's taking a power nap, it sits on his pillow. If he's doing work at his table, it sits on his laptop, ready to help (however much a plushie can help, anyway). Even when he's in student council meetings, the plushie follows. (Diavolo thinks it's adorable, and has a miniature chair custom made for the "newest student council member". Lucifer can't decide on whether Diavolo is mocking him or not.)

Mammon 💳

• He tried his best, he really did. And I'm not saying that because the plushie he made was terrible, no, it was actually pretty decent!

• He doesn't have a clue on how plushies are made, but when he saw the plushie you made of him, he decided he wanted one too. But of you, of course. 

• He's too prideful (More like your big brother than you'd like to admit, huh, Mammon?) and embarrassed to admit to you that he has no idea what he's doing, so instead of asking you for help, he turns to YouTube videos and craft blogs to learn how to crochet. After restarting his 2nd row for the 76th time and having to untangle his ball of yarn for the 40th, he's almost ready to admit defeat.

• But then he imagines how happy you'd be when you laid eyes on the plushie he'd made of you (because "EVERYONE would want a plushie made by the GREAT Mammon, it's an honour to be chosen to be MY model." )...and suddenly he's crocheting like he's been practicing for years instead of hours, breezing through instructional videos and reading written patterns like a pro.

• His final product is slightly lopsided...but other than that it's really good!! Especially for someone who had never touched a crochet hook in his life before.

• Uses mini you to practice asking real you out.

Leviathan 🎮

• Is relatively decent at using a sewing machine. After all, he tailors his own cosplay. (And if a new season of 'Ruri-chan: Magical Girls Forever!' comes out and Ruri-chan happens to be wearing an outfit he particularly likes in it...sometimes he creates a tiny replica of it for his Ruri-chan nesoberi.)

• Ruri-chan has her own shrine in a corner of Levi's room...and now you do as well!

• Your "shrine" is basically a wooden shelf (painted in your favourite colour, of course) with a cork board mounted on the wall above it. Plushie you sits on a tiny throne on the shelf, with all the presents the real you has ever gifted him surrounding your cotton stuffed twin. The noticeboard holds a countless number of momentos -mostly photographs of the two of you and tickets from all the anime concerts and events you guys have been to.

• (The throne you sit on is a replica of the fairy queen's rose quartz throne in season 4, episode 19 of ‘Ruri-chan: Magical Girls Forever!' . Official merchandise, of course; there are only about 50 of the official ones left in existence. Ruri-chan had been perched on this very throne for over a decade, all of the other demon brothers were shocked when Levi dethroned Ruri-chan just for you.)

Satan 📚

• His plushie is perfect. Almost...too perfect.

• He's become an expert in plushie making after ploughing through an endless mountain of craft books and making his way through all the handicraft videos to ever exist. And his work shows the results of his diligent research...his final product looks machine made. Flawless. No one can fault him on technique...his work is outstanding. But somehow, something is still...off. It's too perfect, too lifeless. There's no personality to it whatsoever.

• So he spends the next week experimenting with different techniques and materials. He tries crocheting, knitting, making sock plushies...but somehow he still can't capture what makes you...you.

• Mammon notices Satan giving himself a brain aneurysm over this, and makes a comment on instead of trying to think his way through the situation like he always does, he should just "feel for it, you know? Put some heart into it."

• Mammon usually says some strange things...but this time Mammon's words actually seem to resonate with Satan. So he gives it a shot, and pours his entire heart and soul into the next plushie he makes. While the plushie looks virtually the same as all his other attempts, somehow this one feels different. 

• It feels right.

Asmodeus 👄

• Commissions someone to make the plushie of you for him

• Okay, so he doesn't make the plushie by himself (he doesn't want to break a nail). But he's incredibly involved in the designing process.

• Fusses over everything from the measurements to the exact colour (and I mean exact ) of thread they're gonna use to embroider on your eyes. Makes whoever he's commissioning do multiple samples throughout the process, and if he even finds 1 tiny fault with it he tells them to burn it and start over. His criticism is brutal, but if it isn't going to be perfect then what's the point?

• When a plushie is finally made to his satisfaction, he immediately gets down to the incredibly important task of creating a doll sized replica of your closet. He's incredibly through, there's even a tiny version of that one sock you have that's had a rip through the heel for years.

Beelzebub 🍔

• Poor Beel has no idea what he's doing...not even a little bit.

• He's watched the same crafting video so many times that half of that content creator's revenue is probably generated solely by Beelzebub himself.

• Where is he supposed to insert his crochet hook again? Oops...time to rewatch the video for the 286th time, I guess...

• His massive, beefy hands are just not made to do delicate handicrafts. He's already lost several sewing needles (pray to Simeon that no one steps on them) and his balls of yarn seem to be getting tangled up with each other just from him looking at them?? Oh, and he snapped a crochet hook clean in half just now, because he set it down on the table too hard. He's crying because all these things are happening and he has no idea why.

• Belphie walks in on the catastrophe and is pretty surprised to see his brother sobbing over a ball of yarn. Beel's never really been that into handicrafts. But when Belphie sees that Beel has actually set his snacks to the side just to concentrate on making this plushie of you...Belphie knows it's serious between the two of you.

• Belphie offers to help his twin out and between the 2 of them, they manage to finish the plushie within the next couple of days (instead of the next couple of years...which is how long it would take if Beel was left to his own devices).

• "Look!! I even attached a tag that says 'made by Belphie and Beel'!" :3

• (Please be proud of this wholesome boi.)

Belphegor 🛏

• Isn't that bad at handicrafts.

• He used to do them with Lilith, back before the war. She was amazing with her hands...much better than he was. She made him one of his cow plushies...he's always treasured it, but after she passed it became all the more precious to him. Her namesake now sits on the softest pillow he has in his bed...the cow plushie to lead all cow plushies.

• He's seen the way you've looked at Lilith (the cow plushie)...and knows while you don't hate her or it, it must be difficult to have a constant reminder of someone whose shadow you'll never know if you can step out of.

• So he decides to make a plushie of you. Not to replace Lilith (both the cow plushie and his actual sister), but as a symbol of his affection for you. To remind you that you're just as important to him as Lilith was (and maybe even more so).

• His plushie making process mostly goes off without a hitch; he doesn't encounter any major problems. He still remembers the basics, and unlike Beel he doesn't have the physical strength to snap his tools in half...he's too sleepy (All that potential nap time wasted on plushie making...).

• His finished product takes up a pride of place on his pillow beside Lilith (the cow plushie). Knowing that the 2 of you are watching over him while he sleeps makes him feel truly happy for the first time in years.

[scripttorture]

Would you say it’s realistic for a character who witnesses someone else being tortured to be effected psychologically as severely as if they were the one being tortured (or at least close to that)?

Generally? No. However if there are other things going on in the story it could be within the realm of reality.

 Trauma is a complex process and I think it’s fair to say that we don’t fully understand how it works yet. For instance we know the possible symptoms someone can manifest but we don’t really know why different survivors get different symptoms.

 It’s also… very difficult to study which particular symptoms manifest in individual trauma survivors and how ‘severe’ they are in an ethical way. (Ie how do you account for your sample size of traumatised people having different traumatic experiences, being from different backgrounds, having different support networks etc.)

 Based on what we know about PTSD in particular: lasting, severe symptoms are more likely if a person is physically hurt/otherwise physically effected by a traumatic incident.

 A person who sees a nasty car crash might still develop PTSD, but they are less likely to then the person in the passenger seat who was hurt during the crash.

 However PTSD also becomes more likely if the person in question has survived a traumatic event before.

 Essentially if you take two ‘random’ people and put them in this situation where one is the witness and the other is physically hurt, the person who was tortured will have more severe symptoms then the witness. But we know there are factors that feed in to how severe symptoms are for both survivors and witnesses. Which means that witnesses with specific backgrounds, experiences or social status might be effected more severely then ‘normal’.

 If the witness in question has pre-existing mental health problems, has survived multiple traumatic events and is socially isolated then they would probably have more severe symptoms then normal. Recovery would also take longer. They might have symptoms of similar severity to some survivors. Especially if the particular survivor they’re compared to has a lot of protective factors; ie a good support network, access to medical help, they’re only attacked once, they’ve not experienced a traumatic event before etc.

 It’s a guess, but I think you could, possibly see similar severity if you compare the worst case scenario for a witness with the best case scenario for a survivor. As I said, I can’t be sure because this isn’t something that’s easy to study.

 From a writing perspective I think it’s easier to stick to a general pattern of witness characters having less symptoms and less severe symptoms then survivors.

 But if the character you’re thinking of as the witness survived war, torture, genocide, etc and if they’re isolated then it would make sense for them to be more severely effected then a witness who’d never experienced trauma. It’s also worth remembering that some people just have severe mental health problems without having a traumatic event that ‘made’ them that way. In the same way that some people are born with fewer limbs and didn’t need an accident to ‘lose’ a limb.

 I think that in a story if you don’t provide a reason for a witness to be unusually effected you could risk making the survivor’s symptoms seem less important or ‘better’. It might also run the risk of implying the survivor is somehow ‘stronger’ or ‘tougher’ or morally superior instead of just… lucky.

 Overall I think it’s a better idea to stick to writing witnesses as less severely effected then survivors. Writing this stuff is hard. There’s a lot of elements to consider and balance when we write about torture and trauma. Adding in more complexity often makes it easier to fall into some form of torture apologia, whether we intend to or not.

 I can’t tell you what your skill level and comfort level is when it comes to writing this stuff. You are the person who knows best in that regard.

 I would say that if this is your first time writing torture or trauma and you don’t feel confident this probably isn’t a good idea for your first attempt. Balancing all these elements, doing a good job with dark themes, takes practice. And giving yourself too complex a scenario as your first try can sometimes mean you’re setting yourself up for failure.

 If you’ve written a few different stories with dark themes and torture specifically before then you’ll have more practice. And you’ll be better equipped to make a more unusual scenario work well.

 There are still a lot of potential pitfalls when we make these things more complex. It’s really easy to end up with unfortunate implications. Which is why I tend to advise keeping things simple.

 I’d strongly advise you to consider what this adds to your story. Why is it important that the witness is effected as severely as the victim?

 Does this risk taking away from the victim’s experience? Does it imply the witness is ‘better’? Does it imply the victim’s experience ‘wasn’t that bad’? Does it shift the focus away from the victim and on to a witness instead?

 You can still tell a story where a witness is deeply moved and effected by seeing torture, without giving them symptoms as severe as the victim.

 I do this by showing the witness choosing to change after this traumatic experience. I often have them becoming involved in politics, changing their views and acting where before they would have refused.

 I’ve written characters who upend their entire lives because they witnessed torture. And many of those characters don’t actually develop trauma symptoms.

 I’ve had two characters who throw away a decent military career, social security and financial security in order to help someone at risk of torture. Both characters witnessed torture and this led to them breaking someone out of a military prison. Which destroys their careers, leaves them without a source of income and makes them wanted criminals overnight.

 Consequences are possible without symptoms.

 I’d encourage you to think about some of those consequences. Because you might find that things like that, active decisions which effect the characters and plot, have a bigger impact then mental health problems do. They might even help you achieve what you want from this plot more effectively then symptoms would.

 I hope that helps :)

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