#sorry for the slight vikings drag there

[ivyithink]

i am forever thankful that in tlk religions and beliefs seriously influence actions and views of the characters, but all seemingly mystical and supernatural things have logical explanations, making the world grounded in reality and viewing experience a lot less confusing

that said, i am a complete hoe for some scary supernatural religious horror imagery, so yeah

[istorkyou]

A Thousand Battles (A Modern!Ivar AU)

A modern!Ivar x F OC (Julietta Lothbrok)

Warnings - NSFW, MINORS DNI. Language. Vomiting. Slight violence.

Synopsis - Julietta wakes up with no memory of her life or her husband, Ivar. Will it ever return? Does she want it to?

Word Count - 3747

This is for @blackseapearl 400 follower trope challenge. I asked for Amnesia :)

Shout Outs - A massive shout out to @blackseapearl and @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie for beta reading, ironing out all the mistakes and the motivation to keep going with it. Special hugs to @blackseapearl for talking through the ending with me and giving me some much needed inspiration and the wonderful moodboard.

This fic kicked (and is still kicking!) my ass, I’ve never had such a hard time with motivation as I have writing this long-ass bitch so I hope you enjoy it :)

It’s also LOOOOOOOONNNGGGGGGGG….. and I’m only the tiniest bit sorry about that!

Tag List - Let me know if you want on or off :)@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls​​ @youbloodymadgenius​​ @momowhoo​​ @zuxiezendler​​ @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog​ @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer​ @pieces-by-me​ @heavenly1927​​ @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint​​ @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy​ @petite-hime​​ @serasvictoria​​ @mimiiinspace​​ @itsmysticalmystery​​ @lonewolf471​​ @mylifeisactuallyamess​​ @draculasbride-blog​​ @love-all-things-writing​​ @southernbe​​ @redhead7799​​ @kaybee87​​ @ivarlover​​ @ivarhoegh​​ @idgafiamallthefandoms​​ @darkphoenix5037​​ @profoundtyrantharmony​​ @snarling-through-our-smiles​​ @crazyunsexycool​​ @xceafh​​ @bragisrunes​​@noway4u @batmandallyboy​​ @complicatedbutrare @readsalot73​​​​ @meandmycherrytree

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

CHAPTER 7

Julietta heads into the hustle and bustle of the crowd, throngs of people going about their daily lives, browsing and buying and chatting and laughing. It’s the first time she's been in a crowd for months and the noise is overwhelming. It invades her whole head and drags across her brain, crawling and catching on her nerves, making her want to clap her hands over her ears to block out the storming of her senses. She manages to compose herself and walks to the edge of the market, along a wall so only one side of her is being assaulted by the chaos. She stays there until her brain acclimatises.

The security stays close to her but when she asks for a little space, they allow her that and it gives her a sense of freedom. She feels less claustrophobic with them feet behind her. She wanders the stalls, waiting for something familiar to pop out at her, a smell, a face, anything. But nothing does and disappointment starts to form deep in her chest. When she starts to listen to her body again, she recognises something else. A feeling of unease, of a creeping disquiet leaching through her blood.

She quickly but carefully sweeps her eyes across the crowd and spots a man staring directly at her from no more than eight feet away; a still figure in the waves of moving people.

Her blood runs cold.

Before she has a chance to alert her security and almighty crash and multiple screaming voices erupt from behind the three of them. Reflexes kick in and they all spin towards the commotion before a hand closes over her mouth and she is being dragged backwards into an alley.

She knows it’s the staring man even before she manages to sink her teeth into his hand and she is thrown against the wall, his other hand holding her in place.

As he shakes out his bleeding hand, she takes in his appearance: deep olive skin, a shaved head and a deep scar in his right eyebrow. His rage-filled expression strikes fear into her. What is he going to do? This must be one of Ivar’s enemies coming to finalise the job the car she was hit with did not manage to do.

She cowers away from the stranger as he rips off her cap and her sunglasses, throwing them down and putting both hands on her cheeks.

“Oh Gods, Etta! I thought you were dead.” He pulls her into his chest, crushing her in his massive arms.

She is frozen to the spot; her arms stay limp at her side. She has zero recollection of this man at all.

He pushes her back against the wall, his eyes searching her all over, his big hand runs over her short hair, gripping her jaw and wrenching her head to the left so he can see the scar on her head. Then he pulls her back to face him roughly and runs a thumb over the scar under her eyes.

She recoils from his touch and he notices.

“Did they do this to you? What the fuck happened to you?” He is holding her face tenderly.

He’s not speaking English but she can understand him.

He’s speaking Russian.

“I will kill that fucking cripple if he did this to you. Talk to me, Etta.

When she hears what he calls Ivar she toughens, pushing away the paralysing fear and pulling herself up to her full height. She finds it curious that this movement sparks even more recognition in the stranger's face and he runs a hand over her shoulder.

She slaps his hands away from her in disgust. “Get the fuck away from me, I don’t know you!” She hears herself speaking Russian and covers her mouth in shock.

“Etta! It’s me! Love?! What are you talking about? We don’t have time for your silly games. We have to go. The family will cover it all. Let’s just go, it’s not worth this,” he says, gesturing to her scars. “Your father will kill them all for this.” He looks down at the marks on her neck. “What the fuck is all this?”

Her head starts to spin and bile rises in her throat. She speaks to him in English. “I don’t know you. My father died in a car accident ten years ago and I am married to Ivar Lothbrok. Get away from me.” She tries to get away from him but he grabs her by the throat gently and pins her to the wall.

“Etta! Jesus Christ. It’s me, Lev. I know your adopted father died. You came to us after! Fuck that cripple, you are mine!” He tries to kiss her but she squirms away and drags her sharp nails down his face.

“Mrs Lothbrok!” A low deep voice of her security is far enough away she knows she isn’t going to be found with this stranger yet.

“Stop calling me Etta! My name is Julietta Lothbrok. I am not yours!” She puts both her hands on her temples and screws her eyes shut.

Pictures flash before her eyes.

An older man embracing her. A banquet celebrating her in some way. Everyone speaking Russian. Seeing Ivar for the first time. A flash of the wedding. Doing up the necklace around Ivar’s neck and it falling

She can’t stop the bile this time, the disorientating sensation of the snapshots of a life she doesn’t remember causes her to drop to her knees and vomit.

“Julietta!” The calling sounds closer this time.

The stranger lifts her back to standing. “I will find you again. Look behind your bed in the apartment. The Oasis Gala. Get him to take you. I miss you so much. I love you, Etta.” He runs away quickly, just getting out of sight as the security guards enter the alleyway from the other end.

“Mrs Lothbrok! We’ve got her,” he says into his phone. “She is in an alleyway being sick, Mr Lothbrok.”

As she vomits again she points towards the end of the alley the man ran towards but doesn’t get to tell them before she retches again. She barely registers being picked up and carried to the car, the snapshots playing over and over in her head again

Laying flat on the back seat of the car, her mind races. Who the hell is she? Who was that man? That older man in her memory? What the fuck is going on? What is behind her bed? How does she speak Russian?

She vomits once more before passing out.

_____________________________

When she wakes up she is surrounded by the very familiar sounds and smell of the hospital. At least this time she can move and she recognises the man by her side. His head is on the bed next to her hand and he is asleep. She feels a rush of affection as she looks at her loving, loyal husband before the drop in her stomach as she remembers what happened and why she is back in this room.

She isn’t who he thinks she is. She wasn’t just his wife, she was something else, someone else. But who, she doesn’t know yet. What she does know is that she was having an affair, if the man in the alley is to be believed. And she can speak Russian.

She knows she can’t tell Ivar any of this. She needs to try and figure it out before she can tell him. She needs time to sort out her head, to get back to her apartment and check behind her bed like the stranger said. There is no way Ivar is going to allow her out of the estate for a while after this debacle. She doesn’t know how she is going to persuade him to let her go back to her apartment.

One thing she does know, shards of her old self, her memories are starting to tear into her new world and from what she has seen so far, she wishes with all her heart they weren’t.

She stays quiet and still for a good long while - thoughts bouncing, terrorising her peace. She makes a decision. Until she figures herself out, she needs to keep things normal, keep things locked away from her husband…

She runs a finger gently over Ivar’s cheek, making him stir and open his eyes lazily. “Liet! How are you feeling?” He sits straight in his chair and stretches, then leans into her and kisses her gently. “Baby, what happened?”

“We were driving past the street market and the sign jolted a memory. I didn’t recognise much, but I had some memories, like flashes in my head of you and I there. The shock of it all made me feel so nauseated and ended up in an alley being sick. I’m so sorry I frightened everyone. I didn’t want to cause a massive scene by puking in the market. I was supposed to be discreet. I made them pull over. Please, don’t do anything… bad to them. I made them do it. It’s not their fault.”

His face turns to anger. “The fuck it’s not their fault. They lost you! Anything could have happened to you. You could have been taken!

“But I wasn’t, Ivar. I’m fine. Apart from the ripping headache and feeling like I’m going to puke again.” He gives her a sad smile and runs his hand through her hair comfortingly.

“The doctor wants to give you another MRI to make sure there’s no change to your brain, no damage over time. Don’t look scared, love. I’m here, we will deal with whatever it is together. Forever and always. Okay?” He runs his hand over her hair comfortingly. “What else did you remember in the market?”

She thinks fast on her feet, uncomfortable with the ease in which she can lie so convincingly; she’s had no need to until then. “I’m not sure, just the stalls, the sign. Did we go together a lot?”

He nods. “When you lived in the apartment we used to go and eat at the stalls quite often and then we would go on weekends once you moved to the estate. We would go for coffee and to just browse. You always liked it there.”

She smiles at him, reminiscing about good times from their old life. She takes advantage of his good mood. “I’m sorry I scared you, again. Can we still have our night out tonight? Go to the restaurant? I would like to go to my place and pick up some books and some other bits I saw.” She works on keeping her breath even.

He runs his hands down his face. “No. We are going home to the estate once you are discharged.

She pouts a little at him, changing her tactics. She needs to get back to her apartment. That is her sole focus right now. “Please? I felt so free last night, so much more relaxed. It felt like a holiday to me. I know it’s a step back in time for you but for me it was a breath of fresh air, seeing all my old things. I didn’t really have a chance to explore, I was too busy with your head between my legs.”

His mouth twists into a smile he’s trying hard to suppress but she’s seen that face before, before or after the accident she can’t quite remember, but she knows she got him right where she wants him -- Delving back into the memories of her screaming his name, of her taste, her mouth on him -- and when he licks his lips she knows they will be going exactly where she wants them to.

“Fine, you infuriating woman. No restaurant though, we can go back to your apartment. I will go to the restaurant to get food. I would like to see the owner, there is business to discuss anyway. I think you’ve had enough memories for one day. We will need to leave early for the estate though. I have a standing engagement tomorrow and there is no way in hell you are going anywhere without me again. All this only if the doctor gives you the all-clear after the MRI. Deal?”

He's just solved her next dilemma of getting him out the house so she can search it.

“Deal. You can eat me for dessert, if you want?”

_____________________________

The MRI is thankfully normal so she is discharged a few hours later

She steps back into her apartment with refreshed eyes. As Ivar enters behind her, she turns and smiles at him before her eyes go back to sweeping the living room for any signs of a secret life. She knows she must wait until he leaves to pick up the food, acutely aware of the very limited time available to her to search. She closes her eyes for a second, willing herself to control her breathing. One panic attack a day is more than enough.

“I am going to have two security guards outside the apartment and one inside with you when I go.”

A tiny fizzle of annoyance flares inside of her, she needs to be alone so she can search the place. She thinks up an excuse, working fast. “Ivar, I was going to have a bath whilst you were out. I won’t feel comfortable if one of them is in here with me. I need to relax. Just have them stay outside, love,” she tells him, words calm and dripping with just enough flirty assertiveness that he agrees, no questions, as her hands run up over his shoulders. She barely registers the ease with which she manipulates him.

“Fine. Are you hungry, love? I will go and get the food. Call in one of the guys if you start feeling weird or remembering stuff. I will be gone for about an hour, okay?” He kisses her softly. “I love you so much.” He gives her a million more kisses all over her face and she bats him away laughing.

As he turns away from her it hits her. Whatever she may find in this place could change her, it could bring her memory back. It could change the way she feels about him and the thought springs tears to her eyes. “Ivar!” she yells before he opens the door. She runs to him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him hard. “I love you. Hurry back.”

When the door closes she knows what she has to do. She runs to fill up the bath, then she heads to the bedroom. Her bed is a bulky, oak super king with a massive headboard. She looks to the feet of the bed to see if there are scrape marks on the wood flooring that would indicate the bed being pulled out, but there are none. She tries to pull it, but she knows it is futile. There is no way she could move this bed alone. She rounds the bed, searching for any evidence of how to get to the wall behind the bed but nothing.

She runs and turns the bath off.

Dropping to her knees, she looks under the bed. Nothing under there at all so she pulls herself under to look at the wall. She runs her fingers all over the wall, fingertips grazing the bricks trying to find a wobbly one, but nothing. She takes her time examining the floorboards for loose ones, nothing. She pulls at the base boards. Nothing. She growls in frustration before flipping onto her back to think where she can search next.

That’s when she sees it. A butter knife has been carefully slid between the mattress and the bed slats, only a sliver of silver visible to the eye. She reaches for it, having to use all her strength to push up the mattress so she can wiggle it free.

On the edge of the knife there is some grey dust, she runs her finger over it carefully and realises what it is. Smiling to herself, she checks her watch.

5 minutes gone.

She flips onto her front again and starts looking for a crack in the cement holding the bricks together. She finds it, a tiny crack, almost imperceptible, but this must be it. She slides the knife into the crack and starts to work in back and forth and soon the brick starts to move forward, millimetre by millimetre. When it’s out enough, she grips it with both her hands and manages to wiggle it out. She squeezes her hand into hole left, scraping her skin, and feels around.

Her fingers touch the edge of what feels like a notebook, it takes her a few attempts but she grabs it with two fingers and manages to pull it out, dropping it on the floor next to her

She wipes the sweat from her brow and checks the time.

10 minutes gone.

She looks at her hand and it’s grazed and bleeding along the knuckles of her thumb but she pushes her hand back into the hole anyway, hissing as her raw skin scrapes against the brick again. She feels around again and grabs something cold and plastic. When she wiggles it out of the hole it’s a cell phone. The tiniest cell phone she’s ever seen, the type that gets smuggled into prison in ways she doesn’t want to think about right now. She feels in again, pulling out a cable, a charger she assumes. She forces her hand back in and her fingers graze something paper, thin and cold. She gets it between two fingers and slides it out, using her phone torch to illuminate it she sees it’s a photo. She recognises herself in it, looking a little younger, long hair, smiling broadly up at the man whose arms are wrapped around her from behind.

The man from the alley.

She lets out a gasp of shock. So he was telling the truth. She turns it over and on the back are the words ‘Etta and Lev. 2011’. She stares at it for a while, terror seeping through her body. 2011? Ivar told her the didn’t meet until 2012, so is the man from the alley an ex? She doesn’t want to ever see the picture again, so she shoves it back through the hole. Picking the brick back up, she shimmies it back into place and blows the brick dust away from the baseboard.

As she flips onto her back to replace the knife she hears a knock on the front door and freezes. She moves quickly, pushing the mattress up and replacing the knife when something else catches her eye. The movement from the mattress has caused some paper to shift out of a hiding place at the other end of the bed.

Knock knock knock. Harder this time.

She grabs the notebook, phone and charger and slides to the end of the bed, grabbing the paper, another notebook, and looks around for somewhere to stash it.

Bang bang bang! “Mrs Lothbrok. Answer me or I am kicking the door down!”

It’s the head of the security detail.

“Hang on, I’m in the bath. Give me a minute.” She says desperately trying to keep her voice even as she commando crawls from underneath the bed. She runs to her bag shoving what she has found under all her clothes. It’s the best she can do at the moment. She runs to the bathroom and strips off.

“Mrs. Lothbrok, I am under strict instructions from your husband to enter the premises by force if you don’t open the door.”

She plunges into the bath, soaking her hair, scrubbing the makeup down her face, gets out slowly, so she doesn’t spill too much over the side, grabs a towel and runs to the door, wrenching it open.

“My Gods, can I not even take a bath in peace? See, I’m fine! No need to threaten to kick the door in! Now, can I go back to my bath?”

“Sorry, Ma’am. Mr. Lothbrok was very specific about what I had to do.”

The elevator dings and the security guards jump in front of her, guns drawn. Ivar and another security guard step out. “At least you are doing your jobs properly now,” Ivar spits at them until he sees her in the doorway. He walks to the main guard stopping in front of him. “Why the fuck is my wife standing in front of you in a bath towel?”

“Ivar...” she says, trying to calm the situation.

He holds his finger up to quiet her, never taking his eyes off the security guard. She can see now is not the time to question him, in work mode, in front of his employees, so she stays quiet, despite it chapping her ass to do so

“This crew has fucked up enough today. I’ll deal with you all in due course.” He stares for another few seconds before turning to you and ushering her into the apartment.

“Get back in the tub, love. Hurry though, I don't want dinner going cold,” his voice is back to normal, he gives her a quick tap on the ass and she goes back to the bathroom and into the bath.

She closes her eyes, brain processing everything that happened in the last forty five minutes. She is desperate to know what the notebooks say, but another part of her wants to burn them so she can never know. She can’t think of it now, she knows she needs to act ‘normal’ in front of him so she compartmentalises, worried at how quickly she does so.

She will think about it at a different time. She needs to be focused. She also needs to sway him into not killing the security detail, she doesn’t want that blood on her hands.

Blood on her hands? She has a moment's clarity that there is something definitely coming through from her old personality. She realises that she barely flinched when she thought about Ivar killing them all, beating them to death. She can only assume the part of her that wants to keep them safe is the new her, not the old her.

The thought terrifies her to her core. 

“Liet, come on love, dinner is ready. I want to finish the main course and enjoy the dessert you offered me!”

Chapter 8

[alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom]

GREY HEAVENS (F/F)

@deans-ch-ch-cherrypie ie was one of the first I met here and I’m so proud of her. This beautiful and always jealous (oh lord, she is super jealous) person reached 500 followers and of course I (tried) had to write a fic. I know Cherrypie, I said this is a Hvitserk x Ariel fic, but I love Ivar too much, I just can’t ignore him, oops sorry. Te amo odiosa!

Pairing: Hvitserk x Ariel x Ivar

Warnings: F/F smut, fingering, oral, voyeurism

Words: 1726

Thank you to my amazing beta reader @quantumlocked310 for making my sentences sound good, helping me with the moodboard and always motivating me! The idea for the name of this fic is btw from my honey @jadelynlace, because I have no patience to think about an appropriate name and her titles are outstanding.

a/n:. This fandom needs more F/F so I took my chance to write one. This is also a call to those who write F/F Vikings fics -> tag me!

Forget everything you know about Ariel, because the only thing my Ariel and the Disney Ariel have in common is the red hair.

Summary: A Mermaid is the last chance Hvitserk has to revive Lagertha.

Tags: @xbellaxcarolinax @pomegranates-and-blood @heavenly1927 @walkxthexmoon @punkrocknpearls @mrsalwayswrite @grimeundglow

If you ever find her then speak cautiously, she is mightier than the sea and gentler than the breeze.

The seer warned Hvitserk; mermaids don't like humans. Also, Aslaug taught him not to talk about mermaids since he was a child. The fear that these beings might hear was too big. They pull men into the bottom of the sea and let their ships sink. Their voices intoxicate the mind and manipulate humans. Their beauty dazzles men and makes it easy to underestimate them. They can hide but are still visible for those who are meant to see them.

He rode days and weeks to the far north of Norway, where the sea is wild and high waves crash against the huge rocks, far away from all the villages. Where there are almost no animals to eat and fish are difficult to catch. He could easily die, but it was the last chance Hvitserk had to revive Lagertha.

~~·······~~

Evening dawned and he gathered wood to prepare the fireplace for the night. A few faint fire sparks flew away in the slight wind when he ground two stones together to start the fire.

"With so little wood you won't survive more than two hours" Someone complained behind him.

Hvitserk hastily picked up his axe and turned around to see who that was. Almost nobody knew why he left Kattegat. Every day he thought about how he killed the most famous shield maiden. The wisest witches and healers tried to bring her back. Daily sacrifices and even Hvitserk himself gave his blood in the attempt to revive her, but none of this was successful.

“Ivar?” He dropped the axe. “What are you doing here? Tell me, who sent you, huh?” He grinned.

“Brother, I am Ivar the Boneless, if this half fish is really more powerful than me then I have to see her.” Ivar didn't want to rely on the rumors.

“I don’t want to be a mermaid’s meal, so be kind Ivar.”

“I doubt we will find her, them, it, whatever” Ivar was quite unimpressed by Hvitserk’s enthusiasm. He was just looking forward to the little trip through Norway’s landscapes.

~~·······~~

They walked an extensive white sand beach in search of mussels whenthey heard stones rolling and humming high voices coming out of a big cave.

The sun shone through a big hole in the cave’s ceiling and illuminated two women laying on one another. They quietly tried to climb over the slippery stones in the entrance of the cavern to get closer.

The pureness of their naked bodies, never touched by a man, sliding against each other. Their bright silver-colored skins, glistening in the sunlight like sea pearls. Their wavy hair hid part of their faces. Rose lips sucking on the skin of the red-haired's neck while their thighs pressed around the other’s, spreading their juices over their intertwined legs. Two bodies soft as silk melting together, grinding their pussies and bringing each other to a shared pleasure.

It was silent, only their heavy breathing echoed in the big cave, making the squelching noises of their wetness hush. Their bodies harmonized and embraced; they took their time to satisfy each other without showing dominance.

She shivered at the feeling of the blue-haired’s teeth raking along the flesh of her throat. She was enticed by the way her tongue swirls and swipes the mounds of her chest, tasting the salty valley between her plump breasts. Addicted to the sight of her hips thrusting against her own, feeling the heat that wracked their entire bodies.

One hand roamed down the shape of her body and groped her ass. The blue-haired lifted her partner’s right leg and placed it over her shoulder, exposing her fully. She licked two fingers on her right hand and trailed them down over the red-haired thigh until she reached her cunt.

The red-haired pressed her beloved closer, having only a moment to breathe out before she delved her wet fingers inside her lover’s dripping walls. She stroked deeper, harder and faster; all the while nibbling the soft skin behind her earlobe. She pulled her fingers out and teased her entrance. Her tongue swirled over her lip, before she thrusted her fingers in one move again into her partner’s throbbing pussy adding one finger to stretch her more.

The red-haired pried her legs open andburied both hands in the other’s blue hair to trail her down, arching her back to catch each kiss she left. She brought her lover’s head between her legs and laid her mouth on her center, replacing her fingers. Her arms wrapped around the red-haired's thighs as her tongue dragged against her warmth, parting her folds to rub against her most sensitive spots. She moaned, savoring the taste of the one beneath her pulsating pussy, not missing a drop of her juices.

When her thumb brushes the smooth skin of her hard nipple, kneading it, the red-haired rewarded it with a melodic moan, a little louder this time. The strands of her red hair fell down from her face as she raised her head, revealing her gorgeous face. Her eyes shut tight and her lips trembled, before they spread in a euphoric moan with every slam of her thighs onto the blue-haired cheeks. She bucked her hips nearly throwing the blue-haired off her lap. Her hands looking for something to grip onto, settling them on blue locks. Seeing the lust-filled gaze of her beautiful girl tensed her body. Her end was near, the one above her flicked her tongue at a fast pace, curling it over clit once, twice until her body exploded in satisfaction, coating her mouth with her juices.

The shameless string of moans woke Hvitserk up from his trance.

“Do you think they are mermaids? Real mermaids?”

Ivar didn’t answer. Hvitserk hit him with his elbow, but h was totally obsessed from their magnet-like aura.

“Hey Ivar” He tried to get his attention again.

“What?!” Ivar finally could avert his gaze from them.

“I asked, if you think that these are mermaids?”

“Of course they are! Did you ever see a woman being so divine?!” It was obvious to him.

They heard a loud noise of something heavy dropping into the water but when they looked back to the place they were laying, both were gone.

“You idiot! See what you did, you should learn to speak more-”

“Mermaid! I can see you!” The mermaid’s colored hair reflected in the water. “Come out here! We don’t want to kill you!” Ivar ignored his brother and crawled over the slippery stones in their direction.

The red-haired rose confident out of the water presenting herself. Waterdrops covered her pale and shimmering skin. She titled her head to one side, focusing the two foreign men with her green eyes, without blinking.

“Vikings” She broke the intriguing silence. The way this word rolled of her tongue was tantalizing.

“We didn’t want to...uhm… “ Hvitserk stuttered ashamed about Ivar’s insolence. “We are looking for someone, a special woman, well she is more than a woman. Her name– “

“Ariel. I knew you would come. You’re here because of Lagertha’s death.” She completed his sentence.

The blue-haired came out from behind the rock and placed herself close to Ariel. Two goddess-like appearances, both the same; tall, hypnotizing them.

“Ariel. Hello Ariel” Ivar smirked, speaking in a seductive tone, scanning her naked body with his glance. “I assume you are the powerful creature Hvitserk needs.” He took a lazy step closer. ”Powerful and beautiful. I have a weakness for woman like you.” He confessed, brushing his lower lip between his teeth.

She approached and her cheek pressing lightly against his. Her damp red hair wet his armor as she leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

“I know who you are Ivar. So let me tell you whoIam.” He closed his eyes to memorize her unique salty smell better. “I am not a woman, I am a mermaid and mermaids don’t need to deal with men. And...don’t you dare to touch me!” Ivar clenched his fist and lowered his hand again.

She leaned back and spoke to the more rational brother. “I can’t help you Hvitserk. I’m sorry you came here in vain.” She wasn’t a talkative creature, especially when she felt used.

“Hey silver skin, where are you going?” Ivar started to treat her rude out of frustration. “We are not done here.” Ivar followed her out of the cave to the beach.

“But the seer told me you can, you can revive people. I didn’t want to kill her, please, it was a mistake.” Hvitserk tried to persuade her from the distance.

“This is my home.” She admired the calm of the ocean. “I can save anyone who gets lost in the heart of the sea, but Lagertha is not there.”

“Hey!” She gasped as Ivar grabbed her arm to hold her back. She immediately closed her eyes and was benumbed.

“No” The blue haired yelled and hissed, pushing Ivar away. He let go of her and Ariel started breathing again. Her eyes opened and even if they hadn’t told her how Lagertha died, she already knew it. She felt what they felt and saw what they saw. There was no secret that remained hidden from her.

“It wasn’t you who killed her, you were deceived Hvitserk. I am unable to overpower a dark might.” Hvitserk bowed his head. “But she’s fine. She is with Ragnar and she forgives you…and you too, Ivar.” Ivar rolled his eyes.

Ariel took her beloved by the hand and both stepped into the little waves. The silver colour of their legs became more luminous and greener the longer they stood in the water.

“Let’s go back to our sisters, my dear. I can hear them calling.” Her long red hair framed the curves from her swaying hips.

“And Ivar- “ She looked over her shoulder “- as long as your heart craves revenge, you will never be able to love.”

The sunlight reflected on her emerald green scales before she disappeared with her dearest in the depth of the sea completely.

Ivar waited a moment longer hoping to see her one last time.

“Ivar, it’s over.” Hvitserk laid his arm on Ivar’s shoulder and pulled him away.

[noladyme]

My Only Sunshine - Chapter 6

Liv is as human as they come – faults and all. After a dark experience in her past, she is determined to live life on her own terms, and never let anyone claim her as theirs again. This becomes an issue, when she meets a 1000-yearold vampire, who is dead-set on claiming her as his own.

CHAPTER 5

When we returned to the suite, Carl was gone. Eric sat with his elbows on his knees; staring in front of him. “Pam, give us some privacy”. Pam lingered at the door for a moment, before speaking. “I don’t want a little sister”, she sneered. “There. I said it”. For a second, Eric sent her a confused look. She left the room, and closed the door behind her.

For a long moment, I just stood there; waiting. Eric sat still as a statue, making me more uncomfortable by the second. “Is everything ok?”, I said. “Sit”, he said. I walked over to the other side of the coffee table, and sat down on the couch there; worried. “Did he find out I can’t be glamoured?”. “No… Carl doesn’t know anything about you, or your past…”. “What’s that supposed to mean”.

Eric met my eyes with a hard expression. “Carl had information for me about Godric”, he said. “Apparently, he felt obligated to tell me – as his new business partner – that Rose and Stan are going behind my makers back… Trying to start a civil war”. “So… you have a witness… proof”, I said. “We do…”, Eric said. “But it won’t do Godric much good, because apparently, he’s broken vampire law”. I looked down at my feet. “What did he do?”. “You know what he did. You were there”. He’d connected the dots.

I closed my eyes, and sighed deeply. “Godric was trying to protect you… He didn’t want me to tell you, because…”. “Because he knows I’ll die before letting the Authority execute him”, Eric said. “Doesn’t change the fact that you should have told me”. “He made me swear… He saved my life, Eric. I was pretty much dead, beat to a pulp; and he saved me, by giving me his blood”. “But first, he fed on you”, Eric said. “It was part of our deal”. “Yes, well… Try as he might, Godric is still a vampire. And your blood is… it’s hard to refuse, once you’ve had the scent; let alone, taste”.

We sat for a moment longer in silence. “I’m not going to apologize for not telling you”, I said. “I swore to Godric I wouldn’t tell anyone about what had happened. At the time, I didn’t know why…”. “That’s why he wanted to speak with you yesterday… To make you promise again”, Eric said. “No… Last night, he told me why he didn’t want you to know… But he didn’t make me do anything”, I replied. “I made the promise of my own accord. To keep him and you safe… And Nora, I suppose. I didn’t think you’d want her hurt either”. “That’s so very… human of you”, he muttered.

I didn’t know how to respond to that, but luckily Eric was in mood for a subject change. “We have an event in a few hours”. He got up to stand, and I followed his lead, moving towards my room. “Wardrobe preferences? Dinner or dessert…?”, I asked. His lips twitched into a sly smile. My slight attempt at getting him in a better mood, had apparently worked. Eric followed me to the door, and turned me around; wrapping an arm around me. He slipped a hand underneath my robe, to stroke the inside of my thigh. “Candy. Arm-candy… That purple number I found in the bottom of your suitcase, should work”. “Eric, that’s a slip!”, I said. “So?”. His fingers travelled north, soon reaching my folds; which were already wet. It didn’t take much for Eric to get me going. “I can’t just wear a slip in public… Oh, wow…”. Eric let his long finger between my labia and in to me, and used my slick to moisten his fingertip; before stroking at my clit. “I really need to… fuck, that feels amazing”. “So warm and sweet…”. His words came out in a growl. “And wanting to be ravaged”. The last part came with a teasing smile. “Not that sweet”, I whispered, and took a hold of his invading hand, to lift it to my mouth. I closed my lips around his finger, and tasted myself on it – sucking – all while keeping my eyes on Erics.

I backed away, letting the finger escape my mouth with a small pop. Eric gave me an anticipatory look, as I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his pants, and kneeled on the floor in front of him; pulling the fabric down over his erection. As tall as he was, I had to stand on my knees to reach Eric with my mouth. He drew in a gasp, as I stuck out my tongue, and let the head the head of his dick rest on it for a few seconds, while I stroked him gently up and down. “Solsken…”, Eric groaned, when I closed my mouth around him, and sucked him deeply in to my mouth. Eric was tasty – sweet and salty at the same time – and the soft skin stroking against my lips, as I moved my head, was like brushing my lips against velvet. I hummed around him, and smiled up at him with my eyes. He placed his hand on the side of my head, playing with my hair between his fingers. The sounds of grunts and moans from above me, egged me on; as I was bobbing my head back and forth – making swallowing movements and sucking in my cheeks. I cradled Erics balls in my palm, and massaged them; soon feeling them tense up.

Suddenly, Eric took a firm hold of my hair, and used his other hand, to raise me to my feet. “You’re asking for it…”, he growled. “Bed’s too far away”. “What do you mean? It’s right…”. Eric threw me against the wall; before lifting me up to straddle him, and thrusting into me – hard. “Eric!”, I croaked. With wild abandon, Eric pounded in to me. He wasn’t trying to drag anything out this time, and the sheer force of his thrusts made me worried I’d be walking funny afterwards. He was in fact ravaging me. With wanton grunts and groans, Eric had his way with me like this; while I whimpered from the delicious assault. He kissed and nibbled at the skin on my neck, without extracting his fangs. I would have gladly agreed to him feeding on me, but remembered what he had told me about having gone overboard earlier. I held on hard to Eric as he fucked me, cursing breathily into his ear; while scratching my nails across his back. I would have left marks, maybe even very deep ones; had he not been healing so soon. We came at the same time; me with a loud moan, and Eric with a guttural growl.

“So. You’ll wear the purple dress”, Eric smirked. “Not happening”, I chuckled. He lifted me off him, and set me down on the floor again. Steadying myself against his tall frame, I got on my toes, and kissed his lips.

---

I was wearing the purple slip. After Eric literally having tried – in vain, of course – to glamour me into putting it on, I obliged. I’d put a black sequined mesh number over it, making me feel a little less exposed – but still sexy as hell. Heels were apparently required again, but I was getting in to the habit of wearing them.

The event Eric had mentioned, was another party. This time, all of the sheriffs were attending, apparently; as there was a line to get in to the large building – one of those large warehouses where rich people had their terrible art exhibitions. “What is this thing?”, I muttered to Pam. “Another mingling situation”, she said. “Everyone running for sheriff will be kissing each other’s asses, to get votes”. “And my job is…?”. “Looking edible, and not falling over… Oh, and try not to die”.

Eric clearly had zero patience for waiting in any lines, and walked straight up to the door with Pam and me in tow. The girl standing there gulped when she saw the tall Viking. “Sheriff Northman, Area 5; with party”, Eric said. “I am sorry, sheriff; but there is a line”. Eric hunched over, and looked the girl in the eyes. “I don’t see a line”, he said with a soft voice.

“Are you trying to glamour the staff, Northman?”, Carl said; having appeared in the doorway. “You know me, Carl”, Eric said. Carl let out a roaring laughter, and held out his arm, gesturing for us to step inside. We entered the building, which was already full of people; both vampires and humans. Most of the latter were dressed much like myself – meals on heels. “I hear you’re paying for this shindig”, Eric said. “It was a chance for me to clear my conscience”, Carl said. “After all, that unfortunate event involving someone we both know, did happen on my turf, last year”. We headed towards a large buffet table, set up with human drinks, and what looked like carbonized blood. I hoped it was TruBlood. Both Eric and Pam took a glass; and I stood behind them, like a good little blood-bag. Eric sent me a discrete look over his shoulder, letting a sly smile break the mask of the cool debonair.

“Do you have a show set up for us?”, Eric asked. At the far end of the wall, staff was hanging up some frames and screens, for some sort of installation. “Yes well, speaking of said event… The human in question just so happens to be a photographer. I thought I’d throw him a bone…”. Carl ran a hand through his well-coiffed hair. “Wasn’t he glamoured, after what happened?”, Pam asked. “Of course he was. That doesn’t stop me from wanting to clear my guilty conscience… Oh, here he is now! Thomas Porter!”.

I felt my knees give, and almost fell over; when a pair of hands caught my waist from behind. “Whoa, there, miss!”, a cheery voice said. Eric spun around; his eyes aflame. “Please let me go”, I whimpered. I stumbled forwards, and Eric caught my arm. I couldn’t meet his eyes, simply stood shivering in place. “Looks like you drained a bit much from miss Sunday, here”, Carl smiled. “Thomas, do you mind?”. I turned around, and looked at my former assailant. “Of course!”, Thomas said, and grabbed a glass from the buffet table. “Here you go, a drink will freshen you up”. He held out the glass to me. Come on. It’s just one drink, as friends. “I…”, I breathed. Eric pushed me to stand behind him. “Stay away from her!”, he growled.

Carl held up his hands to calm down the situation. “You’ll have to forgive sheriff Northman, Thomas. He’s a bit protective of his human”, he said. “I know how it is”, Thomas said, and rolled his eyes smilingly. “Sheriff Northman, thank you so much for hiring me to restore that picture. It was like having a piece of history between my hands” “That’s right!”, Carl said. “I heard you two had been in touch. You’ve never met before, though. Have you?”. “I never had the pleasure, no”, Thomas said. “But I’ve met miss Sunday before. When she came to pick up sheriff Northman’s picture…”. He winked at me, and I felt bile rise in my throat. Erics stance was taut; he was ready to pounce on Thomas. Just as I noticed him about to bare his fangs, a voice interrupted him.

“Eric!”. Godric was standing next to his son, and Eric instantly froze in place. “Inte nu”. “Du borde ha gjort det då…”. Godric met my eyes with his own saddened ones. I parted my lips, but couldn’t speak; so simply shook my head. ”Gentlemen, I don’t speak Swedish, but this is a party… Not Thanksgiving dinner with the family”, Carl chuckled. Thomas cleared his voice. “Well, I need to go make sure the pictures are hung in the right order…”, he said, and gave me a final smile, before walking away. “And I have to go make sure the ice-sculpture doesn’t melt!”, Carl said; disappearing just as quickly.

Eric was clearly trying his best to control himself. “Pam, take Liv back to the hotel”, he said. “No… I’ll be fine”, I muttered. “I’m going to kill him”, Eric snarled. Godric gave his son a hard look. “You will not”. “He is a monster, and him being here could get you executed!”. “He doesn’t even remember what happened!”, I said. Erics jaw was clenched, and his eyes read bloody murder. There was a long pregnant pause, before Pam decided to speak. “With all due respect, even I feel fucking uncomfortable now”. A young, beautiful waitress walked past us, with a tray of drinks. “I you’ll excuse me…”. She pressed her glass into my hand, and followed her intended meal.

“Your child is as willful as mine are”, Godric said, a smile ghosting his face. “She is as loyal as yours are as well”, Eric croaked, and looked at his maker meaningfully. “Which is why I did not want you to know”. Godric looked at me with an almost hurt expression. “I wish you hadn’t told him”. I stood there with Pam’s glass in hand, before finally snapping out of it, and putting it on the table. “She didn’t. I had to find out from Carl… Not only are you throwing away your post as sheriff, you also fed from an insignificant hum in a dry state; before giving her your blood!”. I tried not to let my face show, what Eric’s words where making me feel. “Everything you’ve taught me, and now you are breaking your own rules!”. “She is not insignificant, Eric… You know that; you’ve tasted her yourself. Her blood is precious”.

I clenched my jaw, and a choked groan escaped my throat, as I stood there, and let myself be spoken about. Godric turned his eyes to me. “I am sorry. You have done so much for me; and yet I still allow us to speak of you in this way”. I nodded, but did not immediately reply. “I hope I have not offended you”. “No, sheriff Godric. You haven’t offended me at all”, I said quietly. The ancient vampire looked up at Eric, who had a sour and yet guilty expression on his face.

“Godric, you will get arrested… killed!”, Eric said, breaking the tension. “If I do, it will be my end. I will not let you to go down with me”, Godric replied. “I will not allow…”, Eric began. “You will… or I will command you”. Godric put his hand on Erics shoulder. “It will hurt this human if you…”. “I don’t give a fuck about that!”, Eric roared. Godric smiled softly. “Yes you do”. “Varför ville du då inte låta mig bli av med honom?”. Hurt traced Erics voice. Godric shook his head. ”Eric, as your maker, I command you to not act on this matter”. Eric nodded grudgingly. Isabel appeared from the crowd. “Show’s about to start”, she said. “You need to make an appearance”. Godric nodded. “We will speak later”, he said to Eric, and to me, it seemed; as he gave me a slight smile, before walking away.

We stood for a long moment, not saying anything. Around us, sheriffs from the different areas were conversing, most of them obviously looking for support to win another term. I wished another sheriff would come speak to Eric, to interrupt the silence between us. Finally, Eric looked at me. “You need to remember your place…”. “Don’t act all pissy with me, because your dad yelled at you!”, I sneered. Eric grabbed my arm, and seemed about to speak again, when that weird classical techno music began again, and Pam appeared; wiping her mouth, from a stray droplet of blood. “Am I interrupting something?”, she asked, not even pretending to care if she did. “No”, Eric said, and let go of me. “You’re gonna want to see this… both of you”.

Quickly trying to regain my composure, I followed Eric and Pam towards the installation. Up close, I saw that the pictures in the frames were of exotic dancers – on, off and behind stage. The pictures were all hung up in threes. One of them as they prepared for their performances; one mid-performance, on stage; and one after – as the dancer was either catching their breaths behind stage, getting a drink, or having a smoke. I recognized a few faces of former co-workers from Sugar and Spice, on some of the pictures. Thomas was talented. He’d managed to capture the rawness of my former profession beautifully and devastatingly.

“Everybody, gather round!”, Carl said, from the small stage set up below a large white screen. Godric stood to the side of the stage, with Isabel and Stan; representing the hosting Area. A waiter came over to Carl, and handed him a microphone. He took it, and chuckled. “I forget, not everyone in the room have as good hearing as some of us… It’s with great honor and privilege – and due to the fact that I paid for this thing – that I can welcome you to this event tonight. I hope you are all enjoying the drinks. You have probably noticed that willing donors are posted throughout the room, if the TruBlood-cocktails are not to your liking. I had a taste of a lovely female, by the name of Stacey, a few minutes ago – and I recommend her highly… Being from a dry state myself, I’m happy to take part in the local attractions”. He smiled leeringly. “Without further ado, I’d like to introduce you all to a very talented artist; that not so long ago moved to Dallas, to set up a new studio here. He is the man behind the pictures on the wall here; which are all for sale, by the way… Thomas Porter!”.

Thomas sprang onto the stage to applause from the humans, and nods from the vampires. Eric tensed up again. Thomas took the mic from Carl, and nodded nonchalantly at him. “Thank you, sheriff Rockford”, he smiled, before turning to the audience. “For the last few years, I’ve been trying to capture humanity in its rawest state; and found that it was no more pungent than in the strip-clubs of America. The installation you’re about to see, is called Truth. Hit it…”.

Heavy rock-music began playing, and the lights went down. On the large screen, pictures began revealing themselves to the beat of the bass and drums. Close up portraits of dancers flashed, and then slowly, in series of three – as they were hung on the wall – were pictures of them before, during and after performing. Pam looked amused as she gazed up at the screen; clearly enjoying the pictures of the women more than the men. Eric, on the other hand, showed no emotion.

I knew what was coming before it happened. A series of closeups of a familiar face flashed across the screen, before a picture came up of a woman holding a cigarette between her fingers, and looking at the camera through a mirror, as she was applying lipstick. I had been wearing my red sequined bra that night, and a pair of frilly black booty-shorts. No shoes. The next picture was as I was on stage, with a seductive grin on my face and one leg in the air; snatching a 10-dollar bill from a patron, with my toes. “Flexible…”, Pam muttered smilingly. Eric shrugged in agreement. “When was this?”. I was finding it hard to breathe. Looking up at Godric, I could see that he also remembered exactly when these pictures were taken. Forgetting for a moment how angry I was at him, I grabbed on to Erics arm. “Eric… Oh, fuck!”.

The final picture popped up. It had been taken from a distance; shortly after Godric was supposed to have glamoured Thomas. I thought he’d left the alley, but he must have stayed behind – hidden, somehow – and taken the photograph. On it, Godric was kneeling on the ground, with his arm around my back; and his open mouth to a gash on the top of my breast. It wasn’t the only wound I had. My entire body was covered in bruises, and my cheeks were stained from my mascara running.

There was a murmur of voices, before Stan’s voice roared from the stage. “Where was that picture taken?”. He knew very well, where it was taken. Carl held up his hand. “Stan, is this really the time…?”, he began. “This was on your turf, Rockford! Wasn’t it?”. Stan wasn’t letting up, and Isabel was looking more and more worried by the second. Godric kept his eyes on the floor. “Stan…”, Isabel said. “California is a dry state!”, Stan boomed. “Godric broke both human and vampire laws!”.

Fangs popped out everywhere, and Rose and the rest of the vampires who had gathered around Stan at the opening-ceremony, stormed the stage to surround Godric. Eric and Pam sped onto the stage, and stood in front of Godric; guarding him. There were flashes of vampires running to take a side. In the midst of the chaos, humans were running scared for the doors; and I was frozen in place, terrified.

A pair of abnormally strong hands strong hands for a human clamped around my arm, and pulled me towards the exit. “Come on!”, Thomas said. “No!”, I croaked; having somewhat found my voice again. “I’m trying to save your ass! It’s about to be a bloodbath in here…”. He yanked at my arm, forcing me to follow him.

“Everybody, calm down!”, Isabel yelled from the stage. “The Authority has been contacted, and this will be handled properly, by the right chain of command”. “Bullshit!”, Stan growled. “As deputy to Godric, I still outrank you”, Isabel said. “Stand down”. “Fuck you! He’s going down…”. “You won’t lay a hand on him”, Eric snarled; his body taut, and ready for a fight. Godric stepped forward. “It’s alright, Isabel… Eric”, he said. “I will hand myself over to the Authority, when they arrive. I will stand trial”. “Godric, no!”, Eric said. “Silver me”, Godric said. “I am sure Stan and Rose brought chains”. Rose smirked, and waved over a pair of humans, who were carrying silver chains.

I went to run towards the stage, but stumbled in my heels; and Thomas pulled me up to stand again by the waist. “Don’t touch me… You don’t even know me!”. Thomas pulled me close, holding me flush against his body; and leaned in to whisper in my ear. “You didn’t think I would ever forget you?”. I pulled my head back, and met his eyes. They were deep, cold and penetrating. I drew in a big breath, and screamed. “Eric!”.

Every vampire on the stage turned to look, and Eric sped towards me. He grabbed Thomas, and threw him against the wall. With surprising gentleness, I was scooped into Erics arms; and he held me against his chest, as I fought to breathe calmly. “I’m not going to let him touch you again”, he breathed. “I won’t let anything happen to you”. Through my tears, I was confused by seeing Stan run to Thomas’ side, and help him back on his feet.

“Enough!”. A short, balding vampire in a suit, and carrying a silver tipped cane, had entered the room; with what looked like a SWAT-team at his heels. “Fuck”, Eric said. He put me down on my feet, and tucked me in to his side. “Who’s that?”. “Someone you don’t want to know…”. I nodded slightly.

“Sheriff Godric…”, the angry looking vampire said. “Magister”, Godric replied, and stepped down to greet him. He sighed heavily. “What the fuck…? I was in the middle of dinner, and suddenly I’m called out for this shit?”. He looked up at the screen, which was still displaying the picture of Godric feeding from me.

“I have to get you out of here…”, Eric muttered. He looked towards Pam, who was at our side in the flash of an eye. “Hotel. She doesn’t leave the suite. If I’m not back before dawn, you leave Dallas as soon as you can”. “Eric, I’m not leaving you”, Pam said. “If you try to stop them, they’ll kill you…”. Eric looked at her with hard eyes. “And you…”, he said. “I don’t want you here for this. Do as you’re told”. Pam looked down, and nodded. “Eric, are they gonna hurt Godric?”. He didn’t respond. “I’ll tell them… I’ll tell them he was trying to help!”. “No, you won’t. I’m not risking your life as well”. I grabbed on to his jacket, but he tore my hands free, and brushed his lips against my forehead. “Go”. “No, Eric. I…”.

Pam’s arms were around my waist, and before I knew it, I was in the back seat of the limo we’d arrived in; dizzy, from having been whisked away at vamp speed. “What’s happening?”, I croaked. Pam looked worried for the first time since I’d met her. “Stop talking…”. “Is he coming back?”. “I said, stop fucking talking!”. She snapped her head in my direction, and I saw blood in the corner of her eye. She was crying.

---

Pam was pacing the floor of the suite, constantly picking up her phone, and then putting it down again. For once, she was the one fidgeting. I was seated on one of the couches, not moving; save for the shudders of fear streaming through my body. Fear for Godric, myself; and Eric.

“Stupid, stubborn… fucking Viking!”, Pam said. “He can’t leave me like this. If he dies, I’ll kill him!”. “Yeah…”, I agreed in a whisper. “Well, get in line…”. “And then he just sends me off to babysit his human”. I frowned at her. “I’m not his human”. “He’s paying you a shitload of money”, she said, raising a disbelieving brow at me. “You’re his”. “I’m my own; doesn’t matter how much he’s paying me. No one owns me”. I sighed. “Look; money or no money, I don’t want him dead any more than you do… Even if he is a dick on occasion”.

Pam looked at me in confused wonder for a moment, before grabbing a sandwich from the mini-fridge, and tossing it on the couch next to me. “Eat…”, she said. “I’m not hungry”, I said. “Bullshit. Eat”. I didn’t have the energy to fight her on it, so simply opened the plastic wrapping, and took a few bites from the sandwich; before getting up to go to my room and change. “I’m really sorry about what happened to your dress the other night”, I said, as I passed her. “It probably cost more than I make in a year, but I’ll pay you back for it… somehow”. “Liv…”, Pam called after me. I turned to face her. “For the record; I don’t hate you… Not that much anyway… And you have nice tits”. I raised a brow at her. “Thanks… I guess”. Pam gave me a slight smile; and I closed the door behind me.

I got into the fluffy robe, washed most of the makeup off my face, and brushed my hair; needing to keep busy. I was tired, but didn’t want to sleep. I knew I’d have nightmares both about the evening’s events, and what happened to me the year before. I already had to fight away the memory of seeing myself on that screen, beat to a pulp.

Hearing the main door to the suite open and close, I sprang for the bedroom door; opening it. Eric was stood there, holding Pam in his arms; and gently stroking her hair. “I was so worried”, she sobbed. “Shh… I’m here now”, Eric said, and pulled back to smile down at her. “Inga tårar”. “Fuck you. I’ll cry as much as I want. I could have lost you!”. “Everyone is ok”. I didn’t speak, simply took in the scene; smiling at the gentleness of it. Eric looked at me over Pam’s shoulder. “Pam, go find someone to eat. You must be starving; those drinks back there were atrocious”. He kissed the top of her head, and she wiped her eyes, before leaving the room.

I timidly stepped in to the room. “Is Godric ok?”, I asked. “They’re setting up his trial and sentencing for tomorrow night”, Eric said somberly. “Before the sheriffs’ announcements”. “That soon…? Doesn’t a trial take several days?”. Eric shrugged off his jacket, and threw it over one of the recliners. “Not for us…”. He stood with his back to me; and I stepped over, and put a hand on it. “I’m so sorry, Eric… I’ll testify… anything…”. “No”. He turned around, and took my still outstretched hand. “I can help. I was the one…”. “No…! Liv, they won’t care what happened to you with that photographer; and if you let it slip that Godric couldn’t glamour you, they will kill you”. “But maybe…”, I tried. “Why do you care?”, Eric said. “You’re not mine… not Godric’s… You have no reason to help us”. I met his eyes again. “I don’t know. I suppose… I don’t want you to get hurt”, I said quietly. “You know how you tell me I have no sense of self-preservation?”. Eric narrowed his eyes at me. “I think we might have that in common”. “And you want to protect me…”, he said. I nodded. “I know you’re plenty capable of taking care of yourself; but…”. Eric’s expression hardened, and he let go of my hand. “I am. Implying anything else is insulting”. I swallowed hard. Warm and sensitive Eric was gone. “Of course…”.

My old phone rang in my room. “I should probably take that…”, I muttered. Eric gestured standoffishly for me to go ahead. I picked up the call. “Liv! You promised to call me…”, Bills voice boomed through the receiver. “Are you alright? Do you need me to come to Dallas?”. “No, Bill. Everything is ok”, I said. “I’ll be back in a few days. Fuck, why are you all on my case about this?”. “Because we care about you. I care about you”. “I’m fine!”, I sighed. In the blink of an eye, Eric had snatched my phone from me, and put it on speaker. “Yes, Bill. Liv is perfectly fine; in so many ways”. “This conversation is between Miss Sunday, and myself”, Bill said. “Eric, give me back my phone!”, I hissed. I jumped for the phone, but he held it up in the air; seemingly enjoying the sight of me jumping up and down. Looking down, I saw that the sash on my robe had opened, and Eric was looking at my breasts bouncing. I punched him in the chest. Eric simply smiled. “Liv!”, Bill barked. “Eric, put her on, right now!”. “Liv is currently unavailable, as she is still in my employ. Feel free to tell Sam Merlotte the same thing”, Eric said. “And that job is letting you feed on her, and have sex with her?”, Bill said. “Yes”, Eric said.

I felt like I’d been slugged in the gut by a sledgehammer. I should have known that was what this was all about; especially after hearing him speak the words he had earlier. An insignificant human. I clenched my jaw, and sent Eric a venomous look. “Bill… Mr. Northman is right; I’m his for the time being”. Eric flinched slightly when I said the word his. “I’ll see you soon. Thank you for calling”.

Eric hung up the phone, and tossed it on the bed. “I have a meeting in 20 minutes”. “Will you be needing my services, sheriff Northman?”, I asked, not meeting his eyes. “No, not tonight”. “Then, I realize I can’t rescind your invitation into this room, but please get out”. Erics face dropped, and he took a step forward. “Get the fuck out”. The vampire recoiled from my words. “This is about what Bill said”. I couldn’t hide my anger and hurt anymore. “This is about what you said… And the fact that I was stupid enough to think I was anything but another fangbanger to you”. He stood up straight, towering over me; looking anywhere but at my face. “I guess it’s my own fault. I just got confused about everything, because you seemed so upset about Sam and Bill…”. “Bill Compton cares about you… Sam Merlotte cares about you…”, Eric sneered. “And I care about them. They’re my friends”. Eric raised a brow at me. “Is this jealousy, Eric?”, I asked. Suddenly, he had his hand around my throat; and stared angrily into my eyes – his fangs bared. “I don’t get jealous about humans”, he hissed. “Especially those which aren’t mine”. “No… I get that, now”, I hissed. “I’m just a well-paid bloodbag, right?”.

Eric seemed stricken by my words, and quickly removed his hand from my throat. After a short second of regaining his composure, he seemed to be back in business-mode. “You will stay in the suite. You don’t leave, unless it’s with me or Pam. And get some sleep. You look tired and anemic”. “Yes, sir”, I said. I walked over to the door, but before Eric could say anything else, I closed it in his face.

I sat on the bed for a long time, just letting myself feel. After a while, I heard the words I had heard that night, a year before. This is all you’re good for, anyway. Lay back and take it. You’re mine… Then the tears came – unrelenting and with deep heaving sobs. I was such an idiot to think I ever mattered. Even Godric had only saved me, because he wanted my blood in return. What I was, was nothing more than a stripper, a bloodbag; and a prostitute to a man, who didn’t give a shit about me. I slapped my own face, to snap out of it. There was nothing wrong with that. I was doing a job, and it was paying well. What stung, was the fact that I’d lied to myself; letting myself think that I’d mattered to him. “You’ve watched Pretty Woman too many fucking times”, I chided myself.

I crawled up under the duvet on the bed, and even though I’d only shared a bed with Eric for two nights – well, two days, if you were getting technical – it felt lonely to lie there. I fell into a restless sleep.

---

I woke a little before sundown, still rattled and sad from the happenings the night before. Eric was gone; but Pam had sent me a message letting me know to stay in the suite, unless she came to get me.

I picked at the stale sandwich I’d brought with me into my room, and then called up Sookie. “Hello?”. I heard glass being moved around, and sounds of cooking in the background. “Sookie? Shit, sorry, I forgot you were probably at work…”. “Hey, sweetie! Don’t worry about it. It’s a slow shift… Sam says hi!”. “Tell him hi back”, I said. “How are you doing? Bill told me about that phone call, but he didn’t go in to detail”. Bill Compton, always the gentleman. “He’s not coming out, is he? I can’t deal with any more vampire-bosses right now…”, I muttered. “Things not going so well with Eric? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”. She sounded worried and angry. “Not physically. He just…”. I sighed deeply. “Sookie, we had sex”. There was a long pause, where all I could hear was Lafayette yelling out orders, and chairs being moved around. “Sook’?”. “You had sex… with Eric Northman… Was it good?”. “Sookie!”, I yelped. “I’m sorry… But… Well, was it?”. I could hear her smile in her voice. “Yeah… It really was”, I said, my cheeks burning red, and Sookie sniggered. “But now he’s treating me like just another fangbanger… I didn’t come out here to be his on-call prostitute. I thought maybe…”. I couldn’t finish my sentence.

I heard Sookie sigh heavily. “He is a big butthole of a vampire…”, she said. “Look, you’re absolutely not the first woman to fall for his tall, blond and mysterious thing… There ain’t nothing wrong with that”. “Then why do I feel like shit?”, I asked. “Because society has told us, that its wrong for women to enjoy sex…”. “Sookie Stackhouse, the feminist… I like it!”, I said; finally feeling a smile trace my lips. “I wish… I wish I’d never come out here… That I never met that 6’4, incredibly good looking, charming and… fuck, Sookie! I was really beginning to like him…”. “You’re only human… Liv, you have done nothing wrong, don’t let him get to you. You just chin up, and finish that job… maybe quit it with the sex-part, though. Get the money, and move on… Take me to a nice dinner when you get back, you’ll be able to afford it; and then you can tell me if…”. “The carpet matches the drapes?”. “Liv!”. Someone called for her in the background. “Sweetie, I gotta run. Call me or Bill if you need anything, ok?”. “I will. And, Sookie…? Thanks”. “See you soon”, she said, and hung up.

While in the shower, I made a decision. I was going to do what I had been hired to do, even if I hadn’t been completely aware of what that meant, when I said yes. But I was also going to do as Sookie had said. There wasn’t a chance in hell, I was going to let that big butthole of a vampire get to me anymore; he was going to get what he paid for, and nothing else.

While drying my hair, I called Pam on the phone Eric had given me. ���What?”, she replied, after the first ring. “I need your help”, I said. “In more ways than you know. I repeat… What?” “I want to earn my money, and do the job I was hired for… I guess I’m asking WWGD…?”. “I don’t speak church”, Pam replied. “What Would Ginger Do?”.

I felt a gust of wind, and suddenly Pam was stood in front of me. “Will it piss Eric off?”, she asked. “Maybe… Is that a problem?”, I asked. “He ruined my dress, took away my room; and then almost died on me. No problem at all”, she smirked, but then raised a brow at me “One thing, though… Take it back ”. “Take what back?”. “You know what…”, she sneered. I sighed heavily. “Fine… You’ve never, ever pooped".

---

A few hours later, I was in couture again; at least Pam had told me it was. My chest was bound as tightly and as high as humanly possible, by a black satin corset-top; but when Pam had seen me exit the room after having put it on, she spun me around, and bound it even tighter. I had on a short skirt in faux leather, and strappy high-heeled sandals, that I was sure to twist my ankle in, at some point. I’d done my make-up and hair as I used to, during my dancing days; and I knew I looked both fuckable and eatable. Because of this very reason, I’d put a robe over my clothes. Pam looked hungry.

I was finishing painting my nails a dark color, when Eric entered the suite; wearing another suit – this time, with a shirt underneath. He looked every bit the powerful vampire-sheriff he was. ”What is that smell?”, Eric snarled. “I’m doing my nails, sir”, I said. He took three long strides towards me, and looked down at my freshly painted nails. “You’re keeping me locked up here, I needed to do something to pass the time”. “Doing as you’re told is part of the job, sunshine”, he retorted – letting whether this time, he meant sunshine as a term of endearment, or an insult, hang in the air. “Sir, yes, sir”, I said quietly, and screwed the lid back on the polish, blowing on my nails. Eric took the bottle from the table. “Where did you even get this?”, he asked. “I told you not to leave the suite”. “Pam”, I answered.

Eric shook his head in annoyed defeat. “The trial is in an hour; upstairs. The Authority figured out you’re the one on that picture; and they want you to testify, despite my insistence that you can’t remember anything”. “You told them that?”, I asked. He looked at me with warning eyes. “Yes, and you’ll repeat those very words to the Magister”. “I’m not going to lie! Are you crazy?”. The Viking-vampire tensed his whole body, bared his fangs, and roared at me. “You will do as you’re told, miss Sunday; because that’s what I hired you to do!”.

I wanted to scream, throw something, or even punch him in the face; but that last part would probably hurt me more than it would him. Instead, I stood my ground. If he wanted an obedient little fangbanger who did as she was told, and groveled at his feet; he’d get one. I got off the couch, and shrugged off the robe; exposing my outfit. “Yes, master”, I said. Erics eyes widened, and he turned to face his progeny. “Vad fan håller hon på med? Vad har du gjort?”. ”She asked for The Ginger. I thought you’d want a bit of an upgrade from that”, Pam said, amusement in her voice. I raised a brow at her. “Hey… I wanted to piss him off, not get killed”. Eric rolled his eyes. “We don’t have time for this. We have a trial to attend”, he said, and grabbed my arm. “Let’s go”. “I can walk myself”, I said, and pulled my arm out of his grasp, before grabbing my purse. He clenched his jaw, and opened the door for us to leave the room. The first thing that happened after I stepped out into the hallway, was that I almost fell over. Pam caught me by the arm, and pulled me upright. Eric had the decency to keep his back to me, as he laughed.

---

The top floor restaurant had once again been rearranged for what seemed like a party. I don’t know what I’d expected form a vampire-trial, but this was not it. The vampires present were all dressed to the nines, some of them in fashions that seemed to stem from decades before. There were very few humans in the room; probably to avoid having to do a mass glamour when the trial was over.

Eric strode confidently through the room, with people stepping aside as he went. I heard murmurs, and felt eyes on my back as I followed. “… the human Godric fed from”, I heard someone mutter, as I passed a group of sheriffs and their entourages. “Wasn’t she a stripper?”. “Northman likes them flexible and half naked. Haven’t you ever been to Shreveport?”. “… seems like the type”. I looked back at the group, and had to stop myself from hissing at them. I wasn’t out to get killed after all. Pam grabbed my arm, and made me keep up.

Walking up to Isabel at the center of the room, Eric solemnly nodded at her. “Is he in the building?”, he asked. “He’s been silvered all day in the magisters quarters… I would have stayed with him, but they wouldn’t let me”, Isabel said, a pained look in her eyes. “I know… You’ve been a good deputy to him”, Eric said. “But I should have been there”. “What difference would that have made? They would have found out eventually”. “No… Last conference, I should have been there. I could have stopped it”. Eric let out a frustrated growl. “You can’t blame yourself”, Isabel said. “All we can do now, is give testimony to Godrics character. Maybe we can claim the picture was fabricated… Have your human say it was a misunderstanding”. Eric gazed back at me. “She doesn’t remember what happened…”, he said, giving me a meaningful and warning look.

The hell I didn’t. I remembered everything.

---

[jensungf]

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 ∞ 𝐩.𝐣𝐬

summary: park jisung was supposed to be more than a passing cloud, than a fleeting moment. 

pairing: reader + park jisung ft. childhood friend!mark genre: high school!au, angst, fluff, some comedy too cus dreamies are funny af word count: 7.7k warnings: language, mentions of nausea

author’s note: i’m super happy to announce that i hit my first follower milestone!! thank you to the 100+ precious people who decided to follow my horrid blog, i really appreciate each and everyone one of you and i hope you enjoy this story to celebrate!

this is a sequel to my story passing clouds so please check that out first before you read this.

Jisung felt sick to his stomach. Like the time Donghyuck had somehow managed to convince him, or more so, drag him against his will onto that horrid Viking ride that day they went to the theme park together. Jisung had clutched onto the bars for dear life, and he could’ve sworn that his stomach flipped-flopped inside out and back again, with his life flashing before his eyes, all while his friends laughed at his misery. But now, along with the deja vu in the form of nausea churning in his stomach; he felt as if his chest was being constricted from the unbearable weight of guilt that was consuming his body. The gloomy skies thundered outside, as if the heavens above were laughing at his misery. As if they were chanting a mantra, reminding him that he fucked up as his head replayed the words you had sobbed just mere moments ago. He should’ve known it was a bad idea then — yet only after facing the pit in his stomach and the echoes of your cries did he know how ditching you was in fact, an irreversible mistake that might’ve cost him more than just his friendship with you.

He clenched his fists, knuckles turning white from the iron-grip on his phone as his arms fell limply to his side. What had he done?

Jaemin spoke first, as the boys all quieted down from their gaming soon after witnessing the conversation. “What the hell did you do, Jisung?”

Jisung winced. Jaemin rarely swore around him, much less directly at him. He knew he fucked up, and his friends could see the defeat in his eyes. The tension in the air thickened as Jisung’s mouth parched, unable to find the right words that could give a single reasonable explanation as to why he chose to do what he did.

“I fucked up,” he croaked plainly, running his hand hurriedly through his hair. “I hurt (Y/N).”

Jaemin’s hand balled up as he narrowed his eyes. He cared for you a lot — all the boys did. They loved you like their own sister. Jaemin’s expression softened at the sight of the youngest’s agony but he remained stern. “What did you do, Jisung?”

“(Y/N) and I.. we were supposed to go to the movies together today. But I never showed up.” Jisung’s knees felt like giving out. “I didn’t think she would actually be that upset that I didn’t show up! I-I thought she would just call someone else to watch it with her, or something. I didn’t she would blow up at me...”

“How could you not expect her to blow up at you when you literally stood her up?” Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief. Jisung bit his lip in reluctance and the other boys frowned. Jisung was usually rational, and thought about his actions before he did anything. They didn’t understand what had led him to do this.

“Why did you flake on her?” Renjun asked quietly. Jisung averted his eyes, looking down at the floor. “I don’t know. I just felt like it.”

Donghyuck scoffed, “That’s such bullshit and you know it.”

Chenle’s frown deepened. Seeing his closest friend trying to deflect the truth was so unusual. He tried to piece it together, hitting the nail on the head with a simple question.

“Don’t you like her?”

Jisung’s heart twisted into knots. “What? O-Of course I do, she’s my friend.”

“No, of course you like her Jisung, we all do. I’m asking if you like her.”

A pause hung in the air as they all patiently waited for his answer (despite the obvious.)

“Y-Yeah. I do. I like her so much, guys. And I freaking messed up.” He confessed, choking up as tears prickled his eyes. “I was scared. We planned this last week while we were studying, and I thought she was joking about it being a movie date but she was actually serious and kept bringing it up.”

“That’s a good thing though, isn’t it? You could’ve made a move on her.” Donghyuck pointed out in slight disbelief.

“I know, but I got scared! I thought.. what if she didn’t like me back, and I was taking this the wrong way? I didn’t want to make the next step and embarrass myself when— if she rejected me. I knew it was childish of me to try and be cool and play it off, but… I don't know. I-I really just thought she could do better...” Jisung buried his head into his hands, his shame and insecurities washing over him. “Mark just came back into town too, and I always thought he was a better match for her than me.”

He sucked in his breath, lips quivering. “I.. I told myself that if I just chickened out then she would replace me with him or something. So it didn’t matter if I went or not.”

“(Y/N) would never do that and you know that! It’s so obvious she likes you back,” Chenle couldn’t help but grow frustrated at how unreasonable Jisung was being with the whole situation. How could he possibly even think like that?

Jaemin inhales deeply, shaking his head in disapproval. “If you really liked her back, then you would’ve thought about how your actions would have affected her and how she would’ve reacted.”

Jisung lifts his head up, eyes bloodshot as tears drip down his face. “Guys, I fucked up. I hurt her feelings and—” His breath hitched, “S-she told me that I could go play whatever games I wanted as long as they weren’t with her! I didn’t mean to make her feel like she was just someone I used to pass time or she was a game!”

“Jisung, of course she would think that way! You can’t just mess around with her feelings like that. You ditched her without even giving her a plausible reason or heads up, and you argued with her and said that we mattered more than she did, even though we’re all friends!” Jaemin huffed exasperatedly.

He pauses to catch his breath, almost sobbing at this point. “I don’t know how to fix this. What if she never forgives me?”

“I’m so disappointed in you, Jisung. How do you expect her to forgive you?” Jaemin suddenly stands up, throwing his hands up in frustration.

Everyone’s eyes widened at Jaemin’s irritated tone. He rarely ever scolded Jisung, always showering the younger boy in love and affection. He even treated him like his little brother. Jisung's mouth hung agape at Jaemin’s harsh words. He knew he deserved it, but it stung even more coming from Jaemin.

Jaemin scowled before turning his back and storming out of the room. Everyone froze, stunned.

Jeno was the first to react. “I’ll go talk to him,” he said before stepping outside of the room.

The rest of the boys turned to Jisung who was flopped on the floor, his usually tall stature curling into a tiny ball like a small child. Chenle sighed before getting up to rub Jisung’s back comfortingly.

“You made a big mistake,” Renjun says bluntly from his spot.  

“But so does everyone. Everyone has their insecurities, Jisung. You’re still growing so you still have an opportunity to learn from them so you don’t make the same ones again. But it’s a fleeting opportunity so don’t take it for other’s kindness for granted. You owe her an apology, and if you’re sincere enough, she’ll at least hear you out. You know how (Y/N) is — she’s a very understanding person.”

Chenle and Donghyuck nod their head in agreement. “We’ve all made mistakes before. It’s a part of life.” Chenle adds.

Jisung weakly mumbles a thank you, wiping the tears from his swollen face. The boys all give him a pat on the back and a tight-lipped smile. As much as they agreed that what he did was wrong, he was still their brother. It was their job to be there for him, to support him and guide him along the path even if he made mistakes.

Jeno popped in from the doorway. “We’re going to go clean up for dinner. We’ll call you down when the food is ready.” The boys all begin to shuffle out, leaving Jisung alone with his thoughts.

He feels such agonizing frustration, but he knows that he has no one else to blame but himself. He was the sole reason you had been hurt. It was his fault, his actions, that caused you pain. At the sound of your sobs replaying through his head, he squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his hands so hard that his dull fingernails pierce the skin of his palms, leaving painful indents.

However, Jisung’s head snapped up as the door creaked open again. Jaemin's eyes softened as he took a seat next to Jisung.

“I’m sorry,“ Jisung mumbles, “I really hurt her even though I swear, I never meant to. You can be mad at me. I deserve it.”

Jaemin sighs before ruffling the younger’s head. “No, Jisung. I’m sorry for what I said.”

“I really care about both of you and I know you understand what you did was wrong. It really did hurt her, but she really likes you, you know. A lot more than you think.” Jaemin murmurs.

Jisung didn’t have the heart to tell Jaemin he didn’t actually know.

Although Jisung would always jokingly fight back against the older’s hugs when he would be the one initiating hugs and coddling him, this time, Jisung’s body relaxes as he lets the older boy wrap his arms around him.

“Thanks, Jaemin.” He sniffles. The older boy can only pull him in closer.

∞

He had a lot of work to do. Jisung sighs, leaning back in his chair before scribbling “Mission: Make it up to (Y/N)” on a piece of scratch paper. He scrutinized the blank page before groaning and crumpling it up in frustration.

Jisung facepalms the table with an astounding thud, earning a yelp from across him. “What the heck, Park Jisung! Are you trying to get a concussion?” Donghyuck screeched. The chocolate milk from his bowl of Fruity Pebbles cereal sloshes onto the surface of the table and into his lap.

“Sorry!” Jisung mutters. His older brother glares at him while furiously wiping his lap with napkins. “I just can’t think of how to get (Y/N) to forgive me. I suck at all this romantic gesture crap.”

Donghyuck wails, “Doesn’t mean you can just freaking slam your head into the table! What did the table ever do to you? Also now my favorite sweat-shorts are stained.”

Renjun walks by the kitchen and rolls his eyes in disgust. “First of all, who the hell eats fruity cereal with chocolate milk— you heathen. You deserved it.”

Donghyuck flicks his middle finger at Renjun’s back as Chenle bursts out in his iconic dolphin laughter.

“Jisung, if you get a concussion in this kitchen or break the table with that empty skull of yours, Jaemin is going to break your skull. And you know (Y/N) the best, don’t you? Use your remaining brain cells,” Renjun tutted with a pointed look.

Jisung nods but whispers something about there being only one brain cell in this whole damn house under his breath.

“Yeah, I know— ‘cause it belongs to me.”

Everyone simultaneously rolled their eyes at Renjun.

Jeno sits in front of the TV, fervently smashing buttons. His eyes never break away from the screen yet he manages to pipe up. “Why don’t you start by figuring out a list of what she likes?”

Jisung’s ears perk up at the suggestion. “That’s a great idea Jeno!” However, his excitement quickly turns into a huff of exasperation. “But (Y/N) likes so many things… Anime, ice cream, watching me dance, fangirling over —”

“Me, of course!” Hyuck singsongs with a cocky smirk.

The crumpled ball of paper smacks him dead in the nose. “Ow!”

“Wait, I know!” Jisung shouts enthusiastically as an idea pops into his head. The boys all turn to look at him. “She loves the cake from the bakery down the street!”

“Ah, Neo Bakery? The one with cherry bombs and puzzle piece cookies?” Jaemin asks.

Jisung nods, flashing his smile for the first time in days. “Yeah! Can we go right now? Please?”

“I don’t see why not,” Jaemin grins. All the boys shrug in agreement, and begin grabbing their jackets and shoes. Even Jeno leaves his game to join. But before they knew it, Jisung had dashed out the door, his sneakers barely on. “Meet you there!” He called out.

They all share a look and collectively sigh.

“He’s so whipped.”

“Yep.”

∞

By the time they had caught up to Jisung, they had found him standing in front of the quaint shoppe pacing back and forth like a lost child. Chenle shoulder-bumps him, causing him to stop in his tracks. “What the heck are you doing?”

“I didn’t want to go inside alone… It looks kind of empty,” He says sheepishly.

“Oh my god, you big baby, just go in and—” Donghyuck froze as the door he had pulled causes him to lurch forward. He tries to open the door again, but to no avail. It hadn’t budged.

Jisung runs up to the window, squishing his face against the cold glass to peer intently inside. It was empty.

“Guys,” Jeno whistled. They whirl their head in his direction. Renjun holds up a paper with the words “CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE” emblazoned in bold letters across the page. “You have got to be kidding me,” Jisung bemoans, accidentally hitting his head against the glass window in the process. He winces and rubs his reddening forehead.

“Keep that up and you’re going to lose all your brain cells before you even get a chance to speak to (Y/N),” Chenle snorts. Jisung’s nose scrunches up at his best friends and he turns to face everyone else. “Now what am I going to do?” He whines.

“I mean, are there any other places that she’d like?” asked Renjun.

Jisung shakes his head. “No, just that place. She really likes their strawberry cream cake.”

Jaemin wrinkles his nose at the mention of strawberry before he exclaims, “Ah! I got it!” A mischievous glint appears in his eyes. “Jeno, don’t you have Doyoung’s number?” Jeno stares at him quizzically before letting out a sound of realization and nodding. He quickly gets out his phone and scrolls until he finds the right contact while everyone else’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “We’re going to go to the supermarket now, let’s go Jisungie.” Jaemin beams proudly.

“What are you talking about? The supermarket? For what?”

“I got it!” Jeno announces, grinning before shoving his phone into Jisung’s ginormous hands. Jisung fumbles with it for a bit, earning a glare from Jeno. He gives an apologetic grin before looking down to read the screen.

“Woah, what? How’d you get the recipe!?” He exclaimed. Jeno shrugs yet doesn’t bother to hide his eye-smile. “I’m friends with Doyoung. He works there part-time as one of the bakers and he owes me a favor.”

“Wait, are we going to the supermarket to buy all the ingredients?” Jisung parrots bewilderedly. Chenle rolls his eyes and smacks his best friend upside the head, “Yes, you idiot. Now can we go? I’m starving too.”

Jisung’s smile ear to ear as they all make their way down the street. He was so lucky to have them.

∞

After a chaotic trip to the supermarket which had resulted in Renjun chasing down Hyuck in attempt to murder the cheeky boy for yet again trying to steal  his order of pork cutlet “by accident,” and Chenle trying to find his favorite Chinese ramen in the wrong aisle for a good 20 minutes, they had managed to get back home in one piece without getting kicked out by the manager again. (Everyone had blamed it on Jisung for accidentally knocking over the entire tower of cans on one of the tables, but he thought it was a stupid idea to even display cans in such a fashion. It wasn’t like it was one of Renjun’s weird art competitions or whatever.)

With the help of Jaemin and Jeno who both surprisingly had not fallen into the chaos, they had successfully checked off their shopping list.

“Now, we should measure out the ingredients first and then add it in so it makes it a lot quicker and easier,” Jaemin chastises as he puts on his apron. He turned around only to be met with the sight of Jisung coughing in the midst of a cloud of dust, desperately trying to wipe the cake flour that he had accidentally spilled everywhere off his black shirt.

“Park Jisung, I banned you from the goddamn kitchen for a reason but please, for the sake of (Y/N), get it together!”

Jaemin facepalmed. This was going to be a long ass ride afternoon.

∞

Cake was probably the most difficult thing Jisung has ever attempted to make in his life.“Why is this so hard? It’s just cake!” He stares at the gloppy mixture in front of him, lifting up the whisk only to be met with the sight of chunks of things he wasn’t even sure belonged in a cake.

First, it was the struggle with just simply washing strawberries. Jaemin had looked away for a single second and nearly went haywire when he saw what the younger boy was about to do.

Jisung had moved the strawberries into a bowl in the sink, running water and had just grabbed the container of green liquid when—

“Nooooooo! No!” screeched Jaemin. He smacked Jisung on the leg and scolded him with an incredulous look. “You don’t wash strawberries with dish soap, you idiot! Are you crazy!?”

Jisung shot him a puzzled look. “Wait, you don’t?”

With the self-restraint of every fiber in his body, Jaemin forced himself  to not strangle the other boy.

Then it was this. Jaemin should’ve known it was a horrible idea to try and even think about letting Jisung do this alone, but the boy had begged about about how he needed to prove himself to you and he needed all the credit. He pinched the bridge of his nose and left to go drag someone else in to help.

Jisung was perpetually frozen in his spot, his jaw still hung open. His brain was short-circuiting at this point. If he had followed all the instructions, how did it end up like this?

“You both are idiots,” Renjun shook his head, glaring at Jaemin who had dragged him away in the middle of a Moomin marathon and Jisung who was still blinking confusedly at the whisk in his hand.

“Please, Injunnie,” Jaemin pleaded, pouting with his lips puckered out and puppy-dog eyes. “Do it for (Y/N) and Jisung! We’re all counting on you!“

“Agh, fine.” Renjun rolled his eyes before going through the recipe once again.

“Oi, Park Jisung! Snap out of it!”  

“Huh, wha—?”

Renjun grabbed the whisk from him. He stares at the horrific mixture of what was definitely not cake batter and wrinkles his nose in disgust. “What the hell did you do?” He demands.

Jisung gives him a blank stare. Renjun examines the ingredients on the table and nearly faints.

“Jisung, this recipe says baking powder, not baking soda. And it says cake flour, you blockhead, not bread flour! Why do we even have bread flour!?”

“Actually, it’s because of Hyuck’s carb obsession,” Jaemin answers.

He immediately holds Renjun back from running off to fight the mentioned boy.

Jisung chortled, “Renjun, you’re the best!“

Renjun cuts him off by locking the taller boy in a loving chokehold and laughs. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Now help me would ya?”

∞

After about five hours of continuous screaming and threats of burning down the kitchen or someone’s hair (which may or may not be all by the hands of Renjun), they managed to successfully bake the cake. Jisung collapses on the couch besides his friends, finally giving his strained muscles a break from the hardcore struggle of baking. “Who knew baking was this hard?” Donghyuck teases the tired trio on the couch. Chenle laughs in delight at their suffering, and they all shoot him a dirty look. While they rest, Jeno begins cleaning the mess in the kitchen. “It looks like a goddamn tornado flew in here,” He mutters.

“My poor kitchen,” Jaemin weeps. He turns his head to pinch Jisung’s cheeks, “Ahhhh, the things I do for you and true love, my precious Jisungie.”

Jisung groans and slaps his hand away. Donghyuck and Chenle begin helping Jeno clean the mess as well. Just as they finish, the timer for the oven goes off.

Jisung sighs before getting up. “I’ll get it.” In his exhausted daze, he opens the oven and reaches out for the hot pan before —

“Ow, fuck!” He swears, retracting his now throbbing hand. “Language!” Jaemin scolds from his seat. Chenle rushes over, inspecting his hand. “Dude, are you okay?”

Jisung winces at the pain and mumbles, “I forgot the mitt.”

Jeno walks over and chides, “Go run it under cool water.” Jaemin and Renjun turned their heads from the couch. “Are you okay, ‘Sung?” Jaemin asks worriedly. Jisung nods weakly in response.

“We have burn salve, and I’ll help you bandage it afterwards,” Jeno grabs the burn salve from the cabinet and gently applies the salve to Jisung’s hand, who flinches even with the light pressure. “Chenle, can you get the cake?“ Jeno asks.

“I got it,” he reassures, skillfully taking the cake out with a mitt and closing the oven.

“Thanks,” Jisung then frowns at the white bandage wrapped around his palm. Y/N is probably going to freak if she sees this, he thinks to himself.

Despite the pain from his throbbing hand, the boys worked together to finish decorating the cake and celebrated by enjoying some of it as well. Surprisingly despite their clumsiness, it had turned out almost identical to the one from the bakery and didn’t taste bad at all. Now all Jisung had to do was just wait until he saw you tomorrow.

As he laid there in bed that night, he felt the gaping hole in his chest that had been masked by his chaotic day. He was missing something in his life the past couple of days. A hole in the shape of you. He felt like kicking something suddenly. Like himself. How could be so foolish as to push you away because of his own insecurities? You didn’t deserve a fool like him. The lump in his throat grew.

He closed his eyes tightly that night and sent a silent prayer up into the sky before he slept. Please give me another chance to love her. To make her happy.

∞

To say that Jisung was nervous, would be a great understatement. His entire livelihood depended on this. Well, maybe not livelihood but still. He didn’t know what he would do if you didn’t at least hear him out. He had trouble sleeping last night, his doubts and worries consuming him. The boys hadn’t questioned him this morning when they saw the bags under his eyes, yet still voiced their concerns only to be brushed off with a weak smile. This was what he deserved. And now he had to do what he must in order to earn your forgiveness. He had carefully wrapped the slice of strawberry cream cake in a box, with a red bow on top. He was never really one who was good at expressing his emotions through words, much less cheesy romantic gestures like this but he had practiced his apology at least a hundred times in front of his mirror the past few days. All he had to do now was just simply tell you it. Face to face.

His stomach churned as the memory of your cries and bitter words surfaced again. He shook his head in order to try and rid himself of those thoughts, which Chenle had noticed. He gave an encouraging pat to his friend’s back and murmured a soft “Hey, it’ll be okay.”

Jisung’s face twisted in slight anguish. “I don’t know, Lele…” He sighed. “I’m really scared. I really don’t know what I’d do if she doesn’t forgive me. I don’t even know if I really deserve another chance after what I did and said.”

“Jisung, she loves you a lot and you love her too. It would be foolish to say that you’d never hurt her but you need to prove that you won’t ever try and do it again. Just try your best and know that if she hears how sincere you are and see that you’re trying to learn from your mistakes, then you shouldn’t take that for granted ever again.” Chenle reassures.

Jisung smiles sadly before a look of determination replaces it. “Thanks, Chenle. It means a lot.”

Chenle smiles. “Any time, bro.”

∞

By the time lunch rolled around, Jisung felt like a shit ton of bricks had hit him. Usually, he would’ve seen you in the morning but you were nowhere to be found. He hadn't seen you in the halls or anywhere else at all, and worry was eating him up. Where in the world were you?

He took a seat besides his friends who all shot him a look of concern. “What’s wrong now?” Donghyuck questions gently. He hated seeing his youngest brother down in the dumps and although it was supposed to be resolved today, Jisung only looked more worn out.

“I haven't seen her at all today. Do you think she’s purposefully avoiding me?” Jisung feels his heart breaking even more at the possibility that you hated him to the point where you wouldn’t even want to see his face. His head drops in remorse.

“I don’t know,” Hyuck begrudgingly admits, “But don’t you have class with her?”

“Just some. But she was absent today. Usually I see her between classes as well and I haven’t seen her at all. What if she’s sick or she’s skipping class just to avoid me?”

“I doubt (Y/N) would ever skip class just for that reason… but you should just wait until class,” Renjun suggests. Jisung nods in disappointment, his expression resembling one of a kicked puppy. The boys exchange a look of pity and they eat their lunch quietly.

They could only hope for the best.

∞

Jisung mopes for the remainder of the day, feeling nothing but pure despair for his current situation. By the time the last class rolled around, he had basically given up on even seeing you today or even ever again for that matter. He stares at the dainty bag he prepared for you in deep regret before a familiar figure passes by him. (Y/N)?

His head snaps up so quickly he’s sure he almost gave himself whiplash.

It was you. You were here. You were here!

Relief washes throughout his body. His eyes followed you as you walked to your seat, yet he feels his body tense when you don’t even bother to glance back. You hadn’t spared him a single look since you had gotten to your desk but you could feel his stare burn holes into the back of your head. You didn’t actually know since you hadn’t looked at him since before this weekend but you had a gut feeling.

Still, you were stubborn and refused to turn around and give that jerk the satisfaction of attaining your precious attention.

It wasn’t fair of him to do that when he was the one who had hurt you. He was the one who had promised you his time, yet ended up treating you as if you were disposable — something he’d throw away once he had something better to do. You weren’t his priority.

You had basically spent all weekend curled up in your room sobbing into Mark’s arms. He had picked you up from the movie theater that fateful day and consoled you until the wee hours of night, patiently listening to you rant and bawl your heart out over a stupid, stupid boy. You felt so guilty since he had just come back into town and instead of spending time catching up, he had kept you company as you binge-watched sad movies to wallow in your heartbreak over a certain idiot by the name of Park Jisung.

(“I’m sorry Mark,” you blubbered as you cling onto his figure. He sighed as he rubbed your back soothingly, hoping to calm down your tears. You mumbled into his tear-stained shirt, “I didn’t expect you to come back and for this to happen. I ruined your weekend, didn’t I?”

“Well.. you might’ve,” He said, causing you to immediately sit and look at him with watery eyes and quivering lips. You opened your mouth to cry out even more but he stopped you. “Wait—I was kidding. Sort of but not really.. but it’s okay (Y/N)! I just don’t want you to see you cry anymore.” Through your watery eyes and sniffles, you managed to smack him weakly against his chest. He gave you a tight-lipped smile before softly pulling you into his embrace, tracing circles into your back as you melted into his arms and lulled yourself into a deep, painless slumber.

Mark slowly moved his head to look down at your forlorn figure, a peaceful expression upon your features despite the fresh tears still dripping down your face. He gently wiped the tears from your face with the pad of his thumb, his heartbeat thumping so loudly that he worried it would wake you. He felt like his heart was tearing in half — from how painfully heartbroken you were, and how ironically sad this situation was. “I’ll always be here by your side,” Mark whispers to the air, knowing you had already drifted into dreamland. His heart ached. After all, he knew you would never see him the same way you saw Jisung. And he had to live with that.)

You had spent the next few nights with Mark, ugly crying yourself to sleep in his arms until the tears ran out. Asking the skies how could he could just cut you out of his life just like that? Drop you with the lame excuse that his friends were first. Did he not feel any remorse for what he did?

Stupid jerk. He didn’t deserve any more of my goddamn time or attention. No more shedding any tears. No more self-pity, you thought to yourself. You didn’t need Park Jisung in your life. You didn’t need to waste your breath holding onto what your friendship once was, what your feelings once were. You were sure of it. You had tried to convince yourself so, anyways.

You wanted to burn every trace of Park Jisung from your life, yet Mark had persuaded you not to, quietly murmuring about how you would regret it more than Jisung would soon regret his actions. You found that hard to believe but after all he had done to stay by your side, you relented to his wishes.

The time had dragged on by agonizingly slowly. It felt like Jisung was stuck in time for what felt like a million damn years. His anxiousness increased as the class went on. You were actually here! He wondered why you hadn’t showed up for your earlier classes but he thanked the heavens that at least you were here now. Yet he couldn’t help but feel more on edge.

He swallowed thickly, tapping his pencil annoyingly and fidgeting in his seat. His eyes paid more attention to the ticking of the hands of the clock than the boring teacher droning on and on about today’s lesson.

Finally, the bell rings signaling the end of class. Jisung jumps out of his desk and grabs his backpack in one hand and the bag in another, dashing outside like his life depended on it. You catch a glimpse of his escaping figure, and scowl. Did he really not want to be in the same space as you? Was it that painful for him to have you to be in his life? You felt a lump grow in your throat. A part of you had naively hoped that maybe, just maybe he would confront you and apologize. Not that you’d forgive him, or anything but… You bite your lip. He really dashed out the door just like that. You swallow the tears threatening to spill and trudge out of the room with a grim shadow cast upon your face.

You walk outside and begrudgingly scan the groups of students dispersing, searching for his face despite your internal protests. You couldn’t help it. However, by the time you reach the steps of the school, he’s nowhere to be found.

“You look like your cat just died.” You turn around to see Na Jaemin leaning against the brick wall with his signature sweet smile painted on his face. You pout and remember that he’s still Jisung’s friend. Your pout quickly turns into a scowl, and as if reading your mind — he kindly says, “I’m still your friend (Y/N). Nothing will ever change that.”

Your walls drop and he gently nudged your shoulder, cocking his head towards the doors so you both head out. “I hope Bongshik didn’t actually die, or else Jeno would be devastated,” Jaemin remarks. Your shoulders droop and you shake your head. As you walk with him, he takes a turn into the courtyard and you follow him despite the unfamiliar path.

“I know what happened between both of you,” he breathes airily. You wince at the mention of the fall-out. You hadn’t really wanted other people to know yet you guessed it was inevitable. “I know you probably hate him, but I know it’ll be okay. “

You remain quiet, unable to form a coherent sentence when your mind is constantly buzzing with thoughts of Jisung, bringing back the pain clawing inside your chest. You bite your lip. “How can you be so sure about that?” You mutter bitterly.

As you stare at the fallen cherry blossoms littered all across the pavement, you don’t realize that Jaemin had stopped. You freeze, and look up only to lock your gaze with the deep chocolate orbs of the one person you had been avoiding all day.

His eyes darted around your face searching for any telltale signs of how you felt — yet your face was only void of any emotions besides shock. Your jaw drops as you immediately turn to leave. “Wait, (Y/N), please! I’m sorry, please don’t leave— please! Just hear me out.”

You halt in your footsteps, cursing yourself for being foolish enough to even listen to him. Your heart betrayed your mind. You turned around and glared at Jaemin for even getting you in this situation — yet his eyes simply gazed with intent, almost lulling you towards Jisung again. He raises his eyebrows in anticipation and tilts his head towards the other boy. You sigh in resignation at his silent command and then turn around to fully face Jisung.

“What could you possibly say that would make me want to stay?”

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Jaemin says quietly before walking away. Your eyes widen as you realize that you would have to deal with this alone. You open your mouth to protest.

“Wait, (Y/N), please — I just need to tell you something and then you can decide whether or not I’m worth any more of your time,” Jisung interrupts, pleading with his entire soul.

Your eyes flicker to him.

He had never looked so broken.

“I thought I wasn’t worth any of your time,” You say quietly, remembering his harsh words from the other day.

Jisung’s expression drops yet he knows he can’t stay quiet anymore. “No, that’s not true,” He says firmly. “You’re worth all the time in the world.”

You can feel your heart beating out of your chest now, and wonder if he can hear it despite the mere steps that distance you away from one another.

Jisung’s nose scrunches up, and you want to laugh at his cute habit of wrinkling his nose in distaste whenever he’s disappointed that something doesn’t go his way, even despite the grave situation. He inhaled sharply before continuing. “I’m so so sorry for what I said the other day. It was the most hurtful thing I’ve ever said to anyone and I’m so disappointed in myself for hurting you. I never meant to.” He bites his lip and you stare at him. His hands fidget but remain behind his back.

“I-I like you, (Y/N). A lot. M-Maybe even love you but either way! It doesn’t excuse what I did. I shouldn’t have stood you up, but I was stupid, and foolish and the biggest idiot in the world because I was scared. When you first brought up going to the movies together, I was so happy. This is going to sound so damn cheesy and I hate cheesy, but my heart literally soared. I’m still surprised you didn’t notice how red I was,” He admitted.

You stared at him in shock. Park Jisung liked you. Even loved you. He loved you back.

“I didn’t shut up about it to the boys. But then I kept thinking. What if you didn’t mean it like an actual date and I was taking it the wrong way? I was honestly terrified. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship by making the next move even though everyone told me you felt the same way. I over thought it and then decided that I didn’t want to look like an idiot, so I had to be really chill about it in front of you, so I wouldn’t embarrass myself if you didn’t feel the same way. I didn’t want you to know how excited I was because I thought I would look desperate, or something.”

“I let my insecurities get the best of me and god, when I heard that Mark Lee was coming back, I literally felt like I had no chance. I mean, you’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever known and I mean it (Y/N). Y-You…,” He pauses and takes a breath, forcing himself to make eye contact with you. “You deserve the world and I really want to be the one to make you happy because it makes me so happy every time you laugh because of me tripping over air or you wake me up when I fall asleep during our study dates — I mean hangouts. And when I get to hold your hand and doodle all over your arms—” He rambles on. “I was dumb enough to take your time for granted and not consider your feelings. But I want to do better for you. I regret what I did and I want to turn back time to fix it, but I know I can’t so… I promise I won’t make this same mistake again.” His ears turn red and your heart can’t help but swell at his words, despite your mind’s screaming.

“But I didn’t think I was good enough or anything like Mark, who’s a lot funnier and older and smarter. I thought he would be better for you.” You want to open your mouth to protest but he continues.

“But I don’t want to be scared anymore! I don’t want to live life regretting what I did. You’re the most important person in my life (Y/N), and I know I hurt you a lot because I was scared to let you see all of me and tell you how I really felt, but I want to be better and learn from my mistakes. I don’t ever want to hurt you again and I can’t promise you I won’t, because I’m a big idiot who’s still growing, and I know I make a lot of mistakes... but I want to be your big idiot who will apologize and grow from them. I would do whatever it takes to make you happy as long as we’re happy together.”

You found yourself on a rollercoaster of emotions. You bite your lip, trying to hold back the growing smile and tears threatening to burst.

Taking your hesitation as a rejection, Jisung looks down dejectedly before revealing the bag in his hand. “H-Here,” he struggles to keep his voice from breaking, just like his heart, “I… wanted to buy you your favorite cake from Neo Bakery but it was closed so I tried to bake it myself… I know you don’t want anything to do with me anymore but please just take it. It’s for you.”

Your eyes widen as you also notice his bandaged hand and the way he winces when he grips the straps of the bag tighter. You put two and two together and take the bag. You set it delicately down on the ground before rushing to embrace him.

Jisung stumbles back a little but manages to catch his balance as you wrap your arms around him. “You stupid idiot,” you mumble into his shirt, tears welling up. “Look at how cliche this is. You know how much I hate cheesy cliches.”

Jisung stiffens before he relaxes his body to hug you back even tighter. “I can’t believe you burned yourself baking a cake for me. How dumb are you? And I can’t believe Jaemin let you in the kitchen in the first place.” You say incredulously.

He lets out a laugh at your response and strokes your hair gently. “I know,” he says softly as he closes his eyes and relishes in your warmth. You loosen your grip around his torso and step back to gaze up at him. “I can’t believe you at all. What you did really hurt me and I almost burned all your hoodies” Jisung’s eyes widened in horror at your statement. You snigger slightly. “But I didn’t. Thanks to Mark, by the way.”

“It’s okay to be insecure and have your doubts and I know we all make mistakes but please, don’t shut me out and leave me hanging like that next time. We’re friends and friends don’t do that to each other. I accept your apology — only because I know how hard you must’ve worked to bake the cake with your stupid noodle limbs and incompetent cooking skills.”

“Hey!” Jisung pouts at your words and you reach up to pinch his cheeks as you laugh. He melts at your touch and a gummy smile emerges. “But if you couldn’t tell, I really like you too. Maybe even love you,” You inhale at your own words and avert your eyes. “But if you want to make the next move then we have to work on conquering our fears… Together.” You admit earnestly, a look of determination in your eyes.

Jisung can’t help but grin even harder as his heartbeat skyrockets. Happiness overflows through every part of his body. “Thank God,” He says, pulling you in for another tight embrace. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

You both revel in each other’s arms for a while longer as the breeze gently blows against your figure. You look up at him, with the sunset shining upon his skin. His sparkling eyes gaze intently into yours before he leans down a little and your breath hitches. He pauses for a moment before his lips brush hesitantly against yours, and although you don’t feel fireworks erupt or an intense rush of euphoria, you know that this felt just right. Your noses barely brush against each other’s and your eyes flutter shut, feeling his lashes tickle lightly against your skin. He’s so glad your eyes are closed so you don’t see his cheeks dusted with a rosy pink. You slot your lips against his more, the awkwardness fading away, and tip toe to wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you in deeper.

  He lets go first but smoothly slips his large hand into yours, fitting almost perfectly. His ears burn with embarrassment and you can feel yourself turn hot and blush fervently. Jisung scratches his neck trying to hide the fact that wow, for a kid who was considered shy — that really just happened.

“You’re not off the hook yet, Park Jisung! You still have a lot of groveling to do. Just because I love you doesn’t mean you’re forgiven, you big baby!” You announce to diffuse the awkwardness.

He smiles bashfully, “It’s okay. As long as I’m your big baby.” He leans down to grab the bag with his other hand and you blush even harder at the confidence brimming from his words. “Shall we go taste test my amazing cake?” He jokes.

You smack him and scoff, “There’s no damn way you were able to make this by yourself! Who helped you?”

He sticks his tongue out. “You’ll never figure it out.” You roll your eyes and laugh as you walk together, fingers still intertwined.

Maybe it was foolish of you to want to believe that Park Jisung wasn’t just simply a passing cloud or fleeting moment in your life. But you had hope. Hope that instead, he was the gentle breeze that tickled your nose and the warm sunshine that kissed your face on the warm summer days where you both had spent chasing each other until your lungs hurt. Or perhaps, his existence was embodied in the petals of the cherry blossom tree in the courtyard that bloomed every spring, carved with initials of young love that you had just ironically and cheesily enough, just experienced your first love underneath. You weren’t sure if Park Jisung’s existence was fleeting in itself or that the idea of forever actually existed, but you knew he himself was just there throughout every step of the way, and as much as the moments passed by and the memories faded, you could feel his love with the passing of every second.

And most importantly, you knew that Park Jisung still had your heart at the end of the day, and even if he dropped it, he would do everything in his power to put together the pieces even if it meant opening up a part of his heart that he had kept hidden away for so long and giving it to you. And at that moment, that was the only forever you needed.

author’s note: i sincerely hope you enjoyed this sequel hehe i worked really hard on this and it’s the longest story i’ve ever written! spoiler alert: there will be an epilogue/spin-off with mark in the making <33 please keep an eye out for that in the future hehe. special thanks to @neocitybynight @j-woosderland @gohyuck and @neostains for reading this beforehand!

taglist: @bumblebeenct @mjlkau @yongiefilms @neo-cultures @sugarsicheng @thenctaddict @soleilhyuck @ainabaina @heyy-sicheng @sunflowerhae

[scorevechkin]

For the prompt thing, 5 with bradray!

Tumblr prompt 5 with bradray “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” 

Ray doesn’t normally think of himself as a jealous person, he’s not somebody who gets worked up if someone flirts with his partner. Normally, that is.

He’s not a jealous person, he’s not. 

Except — except he is, right now. Specifically because some leggy redhead is purposefully pressing her tits against Brad’s arm like it’ll somehow get him to notice her or something. Ray’s seen photos of Brad’s ex (he’s snooped in Brad’s old room when they’d visited his parents) and this woman looks enough like her that it makes Ray seethe. 

They were only at the bar because it was both date night and there was a football game on. What better way to have a low-key date night than chilling at the bar, drinking shitty cheap beer and eating overpriced shitty appetizers? Well, it would be better if Brad didn’t have a woman hanging off his arm, Ray thinks. 

Brad obviously isn’t interested, Ray knows that, but it doesn’t stop the ugly jealousy from sitting in his chest and fanning up into his cheeks, already flushed pink from alcohol. Ray regrets sending Brad up to get the jalapeño poppers because that means he has to wait at the bar to get the bartender's attention, which means he has to wait longer while Lisa’s lookalike paws at Brad’s arm as they make polite conversation. Or, that’s at least what Ray’s hoping is happening. 

Ray knows he shouldn’t be jealous except the longer he stews there alone, the combination of alcohol and whatever seems to eat up at what little self-confidence he has when it comes to his relationship with Brad, which sucks. Brad’s a tall, gorgeous, tan, viking beef slab of a man with a proportionate cock and he’s dating Ray, Ray who’s 5’9” on a good day, who has barely managed to put back on any of the weight he lost during OIF and who still has slight facial scars from Rudy’s shitty espresso pot. His beer tastes terrible now and his stomach churns uncomfortably, seething and just sitting there looking like a fucking idiot. A jealous idiot. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly so insecure, because trusts Brad, of course, but Brad is (was?) straight. Maybe there were some wires crossed between OEF and OIF, maybe some fucked up head injury that made Brad think Ray was the bees knees or some shit. 

It sucks, that’s all Ray knows. 

Plus, he can’t even fucking do anything. DADT is still a real thing and as far as the world is concerned, Ray is just Brad’s roommate. Not his boyfriend, just an old Marine buddy who visited and ended up not leaving. 

He’s so consumed with his thoughts that Brad manages to sneak back up on him, jumping slightly when one big hand grabs at his shoulder. “Ray, what’s wrong with you?” Brad asks, dropping back into his seat and it’s then Ray realizes that Brad brought back another bottle of beer only for himself. 

Ray doesn’t pout, he doesn’t. “Nothing is wrong, homes, I’m just sitting here.” 

Brad’s eyes furrow and his voice pitches up a bit the way it does whenever he’s about to get defensive. “What the fuck is your problem?” The words only serve to rile Ray up more. “Nothing is my fucking problem! Why do you think I have a problem? You know who I’m sure doesn’t have a problem? The redhead shoving her tits in your face.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Brad asks at the same time as Ray immediately says “Jesus Christ, forget it.” 

That seems to break the dam and Ray gesticulates wildly, knowing he probably looks insane as he waves an arm towards the bar. “The fucking tits, Brad!” he hisses out, like he’s trying to whisper but obviously failing at it. “The tits?” Brad asks, looking more and more confused and annoyed at Ray, choosing to give an exasperated sigh as he takes a long drink from the bottle. Ray’s annoyed at how fucking dense Brad is being, because! Because, it’s clear Brad liked the attention! And the fact that she looks like his ex, the one he so forlornly talked about in Iraq like he was still in love with her. 

Ray knows he’s being irrational at this point but it’s like he can’t stop himself from becoming frustrated, and maybe it’s because there’s a 6 year difference between Brad and himself. Brad got engaged once and Ray is freshly twenty-three and this is his first long relationship. 

“Wait a minute, are you jealous?” Brad asks abruptly, there’s amusement in his tone that only serves to piss Ray off more. Because, fucking yes, he’s jealous, but also fuck Brad for making fun of him. “No.” Ray spits out, pointedly looking away from Brad, who only continues to stare at him. He can feel Brad boring fucking holes into his head so he finally looks back, “Okay fine, yes I’m fucking jealous, are you happy?” 

Brad gives a shrug, “Maybe. I’m just,” there’s a hint of a smile, “I’m surprised, usually I’m the one who feels jealous.” 

Ray almost spits out his beer, almost. “I’m sorry, you? When? Why? What the fuck, Brad.” “Ray, in case you hadn’t realized, due to your predilection to be half fucking naked at any point at home, you’ve gained a few admirers.” Brad frowns and picks at the paper label on his beer bottle before giving up and chugging the last of it. “Plus, it’s hard not to notice how some of your classmates stare at you when you decide to annoy the shit out of me by inviting them over.” “They stare at me because they’re intimidated by my superior intellect.” “Maybe they stare because you decided you were going to wear your silkies,” Brad stares at him and Ray recognizes that sort of hungry look he has, mixed with a fond annoyance. Neither of them says anything for a long moment and Ray chances a glance back at the bar and the redhead is still there, glancing back at their table to try and get Brad’s attention. Ray huffs, finally finishing off his beer, which is lukewarm at this point, making a face as he slams the bottle down. “Do you— okay, firstly, what the fuck Brad, how the fuck did I not notice? Next time just  literally hit me over the head like a caveman and drag me off to ravish me, homes, I give you fucking permission. Secondly, you’re it for me homes, like,” he leans into the table a bit more like it’s a secret he’s telling Brad, knowing full well the noise of the bar is easily going to drown out their conversation, “your fucking horse cock has factually ruined me for anyone else.” The lingering jealousy is still there but it’s easy to put it on the back burner as Brad stands up from his chair, leaning in close in the guise of needing to tell Ray something privately. “I’m going to get our jalapeño poppers to go and pay our tab, then we’re going to go back home — and I can show you what exactly I wanted to do to you while you were parading your skinny ass around in your PT shorts.” 

Ray’s body flares up in heat and he nods dumbly as Brad reaches down to squeeze at his waist before he’s moving away back towards the bar. He watches as the redhead tries to cozy up to Brad again, a triumphant sort of giddiness as Brad puts a hand up to, at least what Ray assumes, turn her down again.  Brad looks back towards Ray as the redhead stands up from the bar and leaves, giving him a wink as he takes the to go box from the bartender. Big gay Brad, Ray thinks as he shakes his head fondly and makes sure they have everything before they leave. 

[little-diable]

Raðljóst - a crime series by little-diable Part 1

My loves, this is my first non-fanfiction series that I’m posting on here, since I can’t really use many tags, I’d appreciate it, if you’d reblog it, ofc only if you're into it. This mini series is something I’m really proud of, so I hope you love it just as much. I mostly listened to Kaleos Vor í Vaglaskógi and save yourself while writing this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Elvas sister had been missing for six days by now, will they ever find Silja? Will they find out what happened to the Icelandic girl and if somebody had deliberately ripped her away from her family?

Warnings: angst, disappearance of a family member, could be triggering

Raðljóst (noun) enough light to find your way by

Blonde, shoulder long hair, green eyes, no freckles or moles on her face. Sixteen year old Silja had disappeared on Tuesday morning, she carried her brown school bag with her.

…

Two days after Silja went missing

She had been missing for days by now, the chilly December air blew through the streets of Höfn, snow covered the island in a white, thick blanket, deepening the heavy, melancholic feeling that nestled in her bones. 

Elva couldn’t rip her eyes off the windows, patiently waiting for her sister to finally turn into their street, with that breathtaking smile of hers on her lips, telling Elva that everything was alright, that nothing had happened to her.

But now, two days after her disappearance, hope was slowly fading away, leaving eighteen year old Elva feeling empty, lost even.

Elva could still picture the salty tears that ran down her mothers cheeks, the messy hair of hers she’d comb her fingers through, a nervous habit and those empty, grey eyes of her father as the detectives sunk down on their sofa, speaking way too calmly for Elvas liking. 

They’d never understand what it would feel like, would never understand what it would mean to lose the one person that you could bare your soul to, the one to always listen, the one to always guide you through the darkness. 

Elva felt like a raft, fighting its way through the clashing waves of the icelandic sea, fighting and fighting till all strength would leave her, till water would soften up the wood and she’d drown, without Silja by her side to rescue her, without Silja as her safe haven, the lighthouse that would guide her through the darkness.

Elva felt the days pass by in a blur, she’d barely move from her spot in front of the big window front of their living room, Elva had always been a rather optimistic nature, she couldn’t give up, not on her little sister.

“They need us down at the station, do you want to stay here?”, her father’s hand felt heavy on her shoulder, adding to the weight that seemed to drag her down, “I’ll come”. She’d grasp any chance to move her legs for a little while, any chance to get her hands on new information, anything she could cling to. 

“Alright”, his raspy voice made her knit her eyebrows together, he sounded just as tired as Elva felt, she couldn’t imagine the pain he and her mother were living through, losing your sister seems like the worst nightmare one would have to fight against, but losing your own flesh and blood, your daughter must feel like walking through hell and back.  

Snowflakes were dancing through the air, covering the ground as they drove through the calm streets, silence engulfed the family, Elva had her eyes trained on the interlaced hands of her mother, she looked emaciated, veins shining through the pale skin, displaying the hurt and anxiety that flooded through her. 

Wordlessly Elva reached for her mothers shoulder, she couldn’t get herself to speak any promising words, not when she was haunted by nightmares of Siljas dead body, wakening with drops of sweat bearding her skin, praying to the spirits that they’d find her, alive and breathing.

The police station seemed cold and uninviting, stoic faces greeted them, made Elva gasp her mothers hand a bit tighter, goosebumps rose on her skin, the need to turn around and run back home seemed to grow with every step she took. 

“Elva Jónsdóttir?”, the calloused voice made her shudder, creeping closer to the small frame of her mother, averting her eyes as the tall detective made his way up to them. “We’d like to speak to Elva first”, as he pointed towards the room he’d take her to Jón instantly got up to follow them, “alone”, the voice cut through the thick atmosphere around them, grey, stormy eyes hooked on his daughter’s frame as she disappeared from his sight.

Elva looked much younger than eighteen, her appearance seemed to deceive the beholder, dark circles underneath her eyes made her appear dull, her hair hadn’t been brushed for days, tangled into knots, baggy clothes were hanging loosely down her frame. 

“Hello Elva”, her head whipped towards a blonde, tall woman, piercing green eyes were staring at her, Elva couldn’t tell where the detective was from, the foreign accent stuck with her and would follow her for the upcoming days. “I’m sorry about Silja, we’re doing everything we can to find her”, Elva sunk down in the cold, uncomfortable chair, hands clasped together, eyes not leaving the woman's frame. 

She tried to read the name that was stitched into the jacket she wore, but she had left her glasses at home and couldn’t properly decipher the small letters. “Lilian Korhonen”, for a spur of a moment, a grateful smile tugged on Elvas lips, she visibly seemed to relax, deeply inhaling as the other detective opened Siljas file, eyes skimming through the pages. 

“Elva, you need to tell us anything that could be helpful, places where we could look for her, people she’d meet up with, anything”, a sigh spilled from Elvas dry lips, bite marks were still prominent on the thin skin, remainders of the moments where her teeth would pierce through them, a habit that she couldn’t get rid of.

 “I-”, she stuttered, panic crossed her eyes for a moment, her mind went blank, forgetting all about the essential things that would describe her sister's life, “she’d take riding lessons”. Elva closed her eyes, trying to picture Silja, the things she’d do on a daily basis, “she didn’t have a lot of friends, just her boyfriend Rubin, every now and then she’d work a shift at the viking village, especially on summer afternoons, she truly loved working there”.

“The movie set you say?”, her eyes snapped open, finding the green ones of Detective Korhonen, “mhm”, she hummed, crossing her arms in front of her chest, nails digging into her forearms, “it closed a few weeks ago, but normally she’d help out from May till September, the stable is quite near, so she’d mostly spend some time there before going to work”. 

Silja had always been into horses, the complete opposite of her sister, always full of life, a bubbly persona through and through. “I don’t know why she’d ever disappear just like that, Silja wouldn’t leave us, at least not without saying goodbye”, Elvas heart was aching, bleeding for Silja, wondering though doubting that she’d ever see her little sister again.

The detectives seemed to understand that Elva wouldn’t say much more, she was clearly struggling, fighting against the tears that would blur her vision, struggling to properly breathe with the lump in her throat. 

“We’ll call as soon as get new information, I promise”, Korhonen shook the hands of Elvas parents, shooting the girl one last glance before she left them standing, almost jogging towards her colleagues, urged on by an idea, a slight hope.  

Part 2

[imaginesmai]

Peter Parker - See the light (1)

Here is the first part of the Tangled series! If you don’t know what I’m talking about, here is a small sneak peek . Let me know if you want to be tagged! 

This doesn’t follow exactly the story, but I’m trying to be as accurate as possible. If you haven’t seen the film, you can still understand the story, but it will be easier if you have seen it since it follows the main plot. Just a reminder; reader is not as neutral as in other fics, since the story requires a specific characteristics and I didn’t want to change Peter.

Now, I hope you enjoy it!

Plot: Peter Parker has changed over the past few years. From the sweet boy that helped in town, to a thief running away from the guards with the missing princess’ crown. While doing so, he comes across a tower with a girl with a  ridiculously amount of hair. First encounters had never been so agressive for him.

The forest was nothing more than a blur as Peter dashed through the overgrowth. The mossy ground was spongy under the soles of his feet, as he practically bounded around the trees and danced around roots and barbs. His lungs burned, his legs pleading with him to slow down, but he couldn’t. The soldiers were hot on his heels, and as long as the crown was still in his possession, he couldn’t slow his sprint.

“Parker!” one of the brother shouted over his shoulder. “Keep up!”

Peter just huffed in response. The other two men were already far ahead of him; both keeping stronger stride and pace. He leaped over a fallen log and narrowly missed getting clipped by a low hanging branch. Behind him, the could hear the pounding of horses and shouting from the commander of the guard.

Suddenly, the back of Peter’s vest was being grabbed, and he was pulled into the cool brush by a strong hand. He struggled for only a second before realizing that is the other Stabbington brother who pulled him in.

“Shut up and stay still” the one with the patch scolded, and Peter’s shoulders slumped.

The theft of the crown had been nothing but improvising. Even though Peter had been dreaming with having it for months, lately he had been more focused on other things. Like the death of his uncle, murdered by the guards in a misunderstanding, or the death of his aunt, killed by an illness that Peter couldn’t afford. When the Stabbington brothers had suggested him the job, he almost said no; but he had to do something apart from hurting.

And hurting the king wasn’t such a bad option.

The ground thundered with the thumping of hoof steps, and Peter bit his tongue. The other two men were already running, caring little about the ‘team’. Peter fell into pace behind them, his lungs aching again. They didn’t run for long thought, as the trees seemed to end and they were cut off by a tall cliffside.

The three of them stared at it, until Peter broke the silence.

“Alright, help me up” Peter clapped his hands. His colleagues just stared at him in shock. “I’ll pull you up after. I’m the smallest and the lightest.”

“Give us the bag” the first one growled, holding out his hand.

“And I thought I had earned your trust” Peter said, arching a brow. There was no trust between them, and they all knew they would kill each other; even the brothers between.

The brothers just gave him narrowed eyes, so Peter gave them the bag. The crown made a tingling noise, and Peter thought of all the things that could go better if he had it.

Less than a minute later, Peter was climbing up their back like a human ladder. He had always been a skinny boy, that had grown muscles with the years, and he was used to climb into the trees for fun; so it was easy to get to the top. At the last second, he slipped the satchel right off one of them and then scampered up onto the higher ground.

“Parker, your hand” Peter should really know their names, but he couldn’t quite differentiate them.

“Sorry, but I don’t think I have one to spare. See you later!”

The brothers caught sight of the satchel in Peter’s hand, but Peter was already running before he could steal it back. The last thing he heard was his colleague’s cries of anger.

That time, sprinting didn’t feel as tiring as it did before. The horses were still behind him, but it was less threatening that earlier. Peter assumed that most of the guards had stopped over the brothers, so he had a few minutes.

As he let the wind hit his skin, Peter thought how a few years ago he wouldn’t have been able to steal, or to cheat. He was a simple boy who lived with his aunt and uncle; not with too much money, but happy enough. He had a best friend – Ned –, a girl who he considered his girlfriend – MJ – and even a man who he was learning from – Mr. Stark, the inventor –. Everything had been perfect, until they all left him, one by one, and he found himself stealing for a living. It wasn’t fun, and sometimes he allowed himself to share a few tears over the night, but it was necessary.

Peter didn’t let the emotions much room, and kept running, until he found a tower to hide.

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

There was someone in the valley.

You knew it wasn’t your mother. For one, the person didn’t call for you to let down your hair, and secondly, the person was then climbing the body of the tower to get inside. Years of being hidden in that tower, without getting out, let you know that whoever was there didn’t have friendly intentions. Your mother had warned you from them, men that wanted to kidnap you, armies that would drag you away. And thirdly, you had a too silent chameleon looking at the window.

You had hidden yourself from sight, the heaviest and most deadly pan you owned then secured in your grasp. It was slightly rusty, but that wouldn’t stop it from being able to be swung at the intruder.

The person was breathing heavily as they scaled the tower, and moments later, you observed in freight as they crawled through the window and into the living space. It was a man, and fortunately enough, he had his back turned to you.

The man reached for the bag he had slung around his torso and looked inside. He sighed.

“You arrived a few months late, my friend”

There was a slight sad tone on his voice, but he didn’t get to say much more before you had clobbered him in the back of the head with the pan. The hit wasn’t hard, just enough to have him fall to the ground, unconscious.

You stared at him for a second. For the first time, you were looking at someone other than your mother. Pascal scampered up your back and then rested on your shoulder, the little chameleon blinking confused. You ignored your friend and took a tentative step towards the stranger, curious; Pascal only shuffled backward.

The man, or boy, had chestnut hair, full of messy curls, and a clean jaw that didn’t seem like the ruthless beards of the vikings you were waiting. His long eyelashes rested peacefully in a face that seemed full of worries, although he could be sleeping. Lips parted and breathing, the stranger was beautiful.

He wore a bright blue vest without sleeves, an underneath white shirt and pants that had seen better days, brown boots scuffed and well worn. Something that seemed a small spider was drawn on the bottom of the vest.

“What do you think he is, Pascal? A ruffian or a thug? He doesn’t seem the bogeyman to me” you asked, feeling intrigued. “That’s not what the plague looks like, is it?”

Pascal seemed to roll his eyes on your shoulder, turning around and looking out of the window.

“You’re very helpful, Pascal” you sighed, and the animal just stuck his tongue.

The boy – he couldn’t be older than you – seemed out cold, so you stepped away for a second, walking towards the abandoned satchel. Keeping a cautious eye on him, you picked up the bag and opened it. A large, golden hoop, covered in what looked like shard of glass, and ornately designed stones, laid on your hand. It was gorgeous, and shimmered in the sunlight.

You turned the thing over in your hand a few times, and walked over to the nearby mirror and stared at yourself, then down at the hoop. You placed it on your wrist, but Pascal, who was back on the ground, shook his head, obviously not convinced. You spun it around your finger next, but the hoop quickly lost balance and you had to catch it before it clattered to the ground.

Finally, you brought the object to the top of your head, and stared at yourself in the mirror. Long, and hard. Pascal’s eyes seemed to widen for a moment, until he shook his head again. Defeated, you placed it back in its bag and went back to the knocked out stranger.

“What should we do with him?”

The only place you could think to hide him was in the closet nearby. Something about throwing him out of the tower didn’t seem right, so you decided to wait until he woke up and kindly show him the way off. And, maybe, you felt a little curious about the stranger.

With a grunt, you picked up the boy and dragged him over to the wardrobe from his shoulders. He was pretty heavy and you knocked a few things over, but finally managed to shove the man in; not without two or three bangs that probably had made him even more unconscious.

“There is a man in the tower” you said, crossing your arms and looking at the closet. Was it a finger what stuck from the opening? “There is a man… in my closet. In my – ha! How you like that, mother? Who’s the sapling now?”

The little dance-off you were having against the unconscious man and out of happiness ended quickly when a new voice rang up from the valley.

“Y/N! Let down your hair!”

You tumbled to the window, and looked down to see your mother smiling at you. She was carrying a basket with some fruits, and you squealed in excitement; the unconscious man would be enough proof to let you go outside. You let your hair fall towards the ground, and your mother stepped into the tower.

“I have a huge surprise” she said cheerfully.

You reeled the rest of your hair back into the tower, and singed back a happy ‘so do I’, staring at her back as the older woman removed her cloak.

“Mine first, I’m sure you’ll love it. I bought mangos!” your mother chuckled, placing his back full of fruit on the table. “Thought we could make some special dessert, it’s been a while since we did so. How’s that for a surprise?”

“It’s great, mother” you replayed, kissing her cheek when she gave you a pointed look. “I wanted to talk to you about something, though”

“Treasure, you know I hate leaving after an argument, but-“

“No, mother, you don’t-“

“Don’t interrupt me” her voice was hard, and you casted your eyes down..

“Sorry. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, mother”

“When are you not?” your mother laughed.

You looked around the walls of the tower, where a lot of drawings and books were kept. There were pieces from all over the world that your mother had given you, and some of them done by you. There wasn’t much to do when you spent your whole life up there.

“But I have –“

“I hope it’s not about the flying lanterns”

You inched closer to the wardrobe, looking for an emotional support on any of the habitants of the tower. Pascal was too busy, chasing a fly on the window, and your mother only had disapproval on her eyes. You sighed, hand shaking.

“Mother, just – earlier, you said I wasn’t ready for the outside. But I just think you were wrong –“

“Don’t tell me what’s right or wrong” you mother corrected you quickly.

“But, if you just trust me, mother, I know –“

“Y/N, we’re done talking about this.”

“I know, mother, but I just wanted to –“

“Y/N”

“Please, mother, just listen to –“

“Enough with the lights, Y/N! You’re not leaving this tower, you’re not leaving me, and you’re stopping right now if you don’t want consequences!” your mother all but screamed, eyes blowing side open and voice louder than you had ever heard it. You immediately removed your hand from the wardrobe’s handle out of shook.

It took her a second, but eventually your mother regained some form of composure and fell into a chair like the victim.

“Oh, perfect” she sighed. “You’ve made me the villain”

You watched your mother, your heart rate decreasing slowly, with your enthusiasm and happiness along. After a long moment where you fight to keep the tears at bay, out of frustration and sadness, you stepped towards her tentatively, until you could kneel by her side.

“Before… I just – I just wanted to say I know what I want for my birthday”

“What do you want?” your mother eyed you with a critical eye.

“New paints. Like the one you bought me last year, that had a special bright red glow, or the thick blue one”

Your mother narrowed her eyes at you, and leaned forward against the chair.

“That man doesn’t live close, treasure. The trip will be long. Almost three days.”

“I just thought it would be better than the lights”

Your mother let out a long sigh and stood up. She walked around for a bit, until finally stopped in front of you with a too kind smile, that only showed when she got what she wanted, and knew she had won. Leaning down, she took your head in her hands and brought it forward, so she could plant a kiss to the top of your hair.

“You sure you’ll be okay on your own?”

“I’ve done it before” you smiled shakily at her.

“Alright” your mother’s mouth was pressed in a grim line, yet she still nodded. “I’ll be back in three days. No more. I love you very much, treasure”

“I love you more, mother”

You helped your mother with the bags and wished her a safe journey under the promise of being careful in the tower. As you watched her walk away, you thought about how three days was enough time to coax the boy to take you to the flying lights and be back before she noticed.

Now you only had to wait for him to wake up.

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Stories of our Skin [I]

A simple slice of life Walter Marshall fic. Slice of life, bookstore romance, the whole shabang. Except Walter is not good at romance and very good at sex.

Tag List: @viking-raider - @toothhurtyam - @jaskierhastwohands - @hell1129-blog - @yespolkadotkitty - @ly–canthrope - @loverofallfandoms99 - @helenaellie - @magdelen69 If you want to be tagged, please IM chat me.

You own a bookstore, which both Walter and Faye like to frequent, both for their own reasons.  Walt is really not good at this whole dating thing, but all the better in bed. 

In this Chapter: You just opened up shop and attract a certain papa bear.

Ch 1 - A Free Cup of Coffee

Walter is waiting, leaned up against his truck, as Faye runs out of the house. “Where are we going today?” He opens the passenger's side door. Faye shakes her head and pushes the door shut again. “We’re going into town.” She says. Walter furrows his brow. “Why? Don’t you go into town with your mother all the time?” He asks. “Just come on.” Faye grabs Walter by the hand and pulls lightly. Walter presses the key of his truck to lock it. “Yeah yeah, calm down.” He says softly. “There is a new bookstore I want to check out.” Faye says, looking at her father, with eager eyes. “Fine.” Walter decides not to protest.

Faye happily talks about school and her friends as they stroll into town. Walter listens attentively. He has never been much of a talker, but a listener all the more. Faye decides she likes that about her dad.

The bookstore Faye leads Walter to is festively decorated. There are quite a few people. “Do we have to?” Walter is not a big fan of crowds. “Don’t be such a partypooper, dad.” Faye says. She drags Walter into the store. The store has a very vintage coffee shop feel to it. It smells like hot chocolate and hazelnut. “Isn’t this cool.” Faye says with a wide grin. “Yeah, I suppose.” Walter says. “They even have kittens here!” Faye runs off. Walter pinches the bridge of his nose. He walks after his daughter, trying to not bump into any of the other shoppers. There is quite some enthusiasm for the new shop. Walter can quite see why. The shop is warm and cozy and of course kittens are a sure fire way to draw in people.

He finds Faye in a big armchair with no less than three kittens in her lap. He chuckles, shakes his head and looks down on her. “Aren’t we supposed to be here for the books?” He asks. Faye looks up at him with a sheepish grin. “Maaaybe.” She says angelically. “Then go find yourself a book.” He tells her. “Ugh fine, just watch after these little guys.” Faye rises. She motions for her father to sit down. Walter sighs and sits down in the armchair. The kittens snuggle up to his warmth at once. “They like you.” Faye says, before dashing away. Walter heaves a deeper sigh and scratches one of the kittens behind the ear.

You notice a man seated in the big armchair in the reading area. Except he is not reading. He seems to be waiting. You take the lull in check outs and coffee orders to observe him. You are pretty convinced if you were to look up the word dad in the dictionary, you’d find a picture of his guy. He is wearing a knitted jumper, the daddest dad jeans possible and caterpillar boots. His beard is closed cropped and his hair falls in corkscrew ringlets. His eyes meet yours. You send him a sweet smile. A slight fluster dusts his cheeks. That quite amuses you. A shy dad huh? Gosh, that sure makes him exponentially cuter. And you already thought him quite hunky. The way his jumper spans across his chest and tenses at his upper arms does not escape your notice.

A teenage girl rushes for him. “Sweetie, please don’t run in the sitting area, we don’t want you to stumble over one of the kittens.” You call out to her. She looks up startled. Her father looks up as well.   “Oh, I-I’m sorry miss.” The girl mumbles. “I know you mean no harm, but the kittens are small and can easily get underfoot.” You say. The girl bites her lip and flusters. Her dad gets up. “C’mon, sit down.” He gestures at the armchair. The girl carefully sits down. The kittens in the chair seek out her warmth.

You can’t watch for long. You have customers that want to buy books or order coffee, tea and hot cocoa. But every so often, when you look up, you find the dad wandering around.

During another calm moment you lean over the counter. “Hey, psh.” You hiss at the girl. She looks up from the book she is reading. “That your dad?” You mouth at her. She nods and sends you a small smile. “He is cute.” You tell her. That makes her laugh. “Dad!” The girl calls out. Quickly the man comes to her. “What’s going on?” He asks. “This lady thinks you are cute.” She tells him. He turns to you. You smile at him. There is no smile back from him this time. Instead he puffs out his chest and turns back to his daughter. “Don’t be like this dad!” She tells him. You decide not to give up yet. You gesture at him come over. Father and daughter exchange a look and the girl nods. He heaves a light sigh and comes over to the counter. “What?” He frowns at you. “Can I offer you a cup of coffee?” You cooe. The man slightly tilts his head. “Come on, it is on the house. What would your daughter like, tea or hot cocoa?” You say sweetly. A light fluster rises to his cheeks. “Faye, what would you like?” He asks his daughter. “Hot cocoa, please.” She answers joyfully. “And you?” You purr at the dad. “Espresso, if you have it.” He says, a bit awkward now. “A hot cocoa and an espresso, coming up.” You walk over to the coffee machine and set it to work.

Faye gets up and nudged Walter with her elbow. “Don’t be so weird dad.” She hisses to him. “How am I weird?” He asks. “This woman is flirting with you and you act like you are made of stone!” Faye replies. Walter’s ears turn red. Faye facepalms.  “Don’t tell me you did not notice.” She gives her father an incredulous look. Walter shrugs his broad shoulders. “You didn’t notice. Oh my god, dad!” Faye says, just a little too loud. Several people look up at her and Walter.

“One cup of cocoa and an espresso.” You says, putting a large mug of cocoa down before Faye and a small cup for her father. “Thanks.” Faye grabs her cocoa and goes back to the armchair. “What is she reading?” You ask. “I think something Neil Gaiman.” Is the father’s answer. “And what do you like to read, sir?” You ask. “What have you got?” He retrotts. You chuckle. “Oh mister.. -” You pause, giving him a look, so he might provide you at least his last name. That sure would make for an easier conversation. “Marshall, Walter Marshall.” He replies. “Mister Marshall, I have got everything. Especially the rarer literature. I even have a faux copy of El Azif.” You reply to him. "El Azif?” He frowns at you. “Not a fan of cosmic horror?” You ask. “Never really bothered to get into it.” Walter replies. “Do you like horror?” You inquire. Walter shrugs his broad shoulders. “I see enough hororr in my job.” He replies. He takes a small sip of his espresso and then just down the whole cup in one go. “This is good stuff.”‘ He comments. You send him a smile. “What do you do for a living?” You ask. Walter chuckles airily. “I am a detective. Homicide is pretty much my … bread and butter.” He replies. “Ah, so no Wallander or The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo for you, huh?” You titter a giggle. Walter shakes his head. “No, I don’t like to take my work into my free time.” He replies.

Customers come to the counter to pay and to order coffee, tea and chocolate, some to go and others to drink in the reading area.

Walter remains at the counter, but makes sure to stay out of the way. You glance at him from time to time. You notice he is not taking his eyes off of you.

“You know, if your girl likes that book, she can buy it, too.” You tell him, after a while. Walter looks at Faye over his shoulder. “Are you going to buy it or not?” He asks. Faye looks up from her book. “Oh dad, can’t we stay.” She pouts. “Look, sweetie, I am more than happy to have you here, but this is not a library, I have to actually sell the books to make a living.” You tell her. Faye looks a bit guilty. “Can I at least finish my cocoa?” She asks. You can’t help a chuckle. “Of course sweetie.” You cooe.

Walter gently takes the book from Faye’s hands. “Don’t tell your mother. She’ll say that I am spoiling you.” He tells her. “I’ll just keep it at your place.” Faye says, hiding her smile with her mug. Walter chuckles in reply. He retrieves the book to you. “Clan of the Cave Bear.” You say. “Your daughter has good taste and a developed one too.” You scan the book. “That is twelve dollars please.” You hand him the book. “For the book, espresso and the cocoa, you are not going to make a profit of that.” Walter pulls his debit card from his wallet. “Cocoa and the espresso are on the house, Mister Marshall.” You purr. “Please, call me Walter.” He rumbles in reply. His tone of voice is very charming.

Faye rises from her hair and retrieves her mug to you. “Thank you so much, miss.” She says with a wide smile. “We ought to leave a tip.” Walter opens his wallet again. “I know something better. Do you have a piece of paper?” Faye grins mischievously. You give Faye a sheet of paper and hand her a pen. She writes down a phone number and in big graceful letters her father’s name. “Call him.” She mouths at you. You can’t help a giggle.

Walter and Faye leave your shop, but you can’t get them out of your head the entire day.

You see Faye again three days later. But she comes alone.

“Hey.” She says with a big smile. “Called my dad yet?” She asks. “I had no occasion to, opening days have been hell.” You reply. “That is too bad.” Faye shrugs. “What can I do for you?” You ask her. “I finished Clan of the Cave Bear.” She says. “In three days, you are a keen one, aren’t you?” You smile. “I have got the next book for you, if you’d like it.” You come from behind the counter. You gesture to her to follow. Faye is quickly to come after you. You lead her to the second floor and show her to the historic romance shelf. “I bet this right where you found Clan of the Cave Bear.” You cooe. “I don’t think I remember. I mainly remember dad not understanding you were flirting with him.” Faye replies. That makes you laugh. “You really need to call him.” Faye whispers. You can help a fluster from creeping up your cheeks. “You like him, don’t you?” Faye grins widely up at you. You give a huffy little chuckle in reply. “You are a clever girl, aren’t you.” You cooe. Faye happily nods.

Faye pays for her book and says goodbye. “I’ll tell dad you say hi.” She teases. “I’d rather do that myself.” You reply, sending her a wink.

Walter startles when his phone rings. He gives it a disturbed look. It is a number he doesn’t know. It almost makes him decline the call … Almost. “Yes, Marshall.” He says, as he picks up. “Mr. Marshall, hi.” He recognises your voice. His heart skips a beat. “Y/N… Why do you call?” He asks, almost slapping himself right after. How could he ask something so stupid. You laugh softly on the other end of the line. “Your daughter was just here.” You say. That alarms Walter. “Is she alright?” He asks. “No need to be worried, she just came to find the next part of the Earth Children series.” You answer. Walter let’s out a relieved sigh. “She said I really should give you a call.” You purr. “And so you did.” Walter is very glad you can’t see him. You chuckle softly. “Very well, you called me. Shall we now get back to our work?” Walter asks. “Well, I wouldn’t want to have called you in vain.” You reply. “You have not.” Walter says softly. Not with the way your voice makes him feel. He is grinning like a loon. He can hear you heave a sigh. “Very well, then I shall leave you to your work.” You reply. “Thank you so much. Have a good day.” Walter says and he hangs up. Immediately he feels like hurling his phone across the room. That small conversation went so fucking wrong!

He’s at the shop the next morning. You are surprised to see him. “Good morning, Mr. Marshall.” You say happily. “Please, call me Walter. Good morning to you too.” He says. He sounds a tad awkward, you notice. “Is there something I can do for you?” You ask. Walter takes a deep breath, which puffs out his chest. And gods does that make him glorious. “Well … I was thinking … Yesterday’s phonecall wasn’t ... “ He rubs his hand over his face. “I kinda fucked that up.” He mutters. You chuckle sweetly and shake your head. “No you didn’t.” You cooe. You walk around the counter and touch him gently on his arm. “When you said I hadn’t called you in vain, I knew that it would be right.” You say sweetly. Walter can’t help a wide grin. He touches your arm in return, a light graze of fingers, but you recognise the subconscious flirt. “I quite liked to hear your voice.” He said.  

Customers come into the shop and you have to go back to the counter to pour them tea and check out their books. Walter wanders around the shop. You follow him with your eyes.  He heads upstairs, where your eyes can’t follow. So you focus on the customers, chatting happily with them. You make them coffee and tea and check out their books. You are quite glad with how well business is going for now.

Walter comes back to the counter when you are free of customers again. “Found something you like?” You ask him. Walter shakes his head. “It’s been a while since I last read a book.” He says with a soft snicker. “I think I have something you will like.” You purr. “Oh now I am curious.” Walter replies. You erupt from behind the counter and head up the stairs. Walter follows you, but tries not to seem too eager. You head to a small shelf, with large thick books, ponderous tomes. “Are you sure that is for me?” Walter asks. “Oh yes.” You nod. You reach for a huge blue book. “I find that Mr. Lovecraft helps put things in perspective.” You hand him the book. Walter weighs it in his hands. “I doubt I even need to read it to gain perspective.” He chuckles. “It is full of short stories, read one when you feel the need of … perspective. I do warn you, they can be quite chilling.” You place one hand on the book and grin up at Walter. Walter grins back at you.

“You know what, take it home. If you don’t like it, you can just return it.” You say sweetly.

Walter places his hand over yours. There is something soft in his eyes as your gaze meets his. Even his smile is sweet and gentle. Your heart gives a little clench. Walter is incredibly charming when he smiles. “I do have to compensate you somehow, for this kindness.” He says. “You can take me out.” You reply, deciding to take the leap. “S-sure… When do you have time?” Walter agrees. His shoulders tense a little. “Thursday night?” You suggest. Walter nods. “Sure, I can do Thursday, what do wana do?” He peers you in the eye. You ponder on your answer for a little. “I could cook for you.” You suggest. “How about we cook together?” Walter replies. “Your place, or mine?” Walter murrs. “Your place?” You cooe. Walter nods in reply. “Fine by me.” He affirms. “Wonderful, should I come on my own accord, or will you pick me up?” You ask. “I’ll pick you up.” Walter replies.

You head back down and find there are customers waiting.

“I’ll see you thursday.” Walter says. “Yeah see you then.” You send him a smile. He smiles back warmly. He takes his leave then. You can’t keep your focus, watching as he goes.

[hecohansen31]

Tinder date with Ivar, please! Fluffy, smutty or angsty, it’s up to you! Thank you 💕

(A/N); Hello lovely!

Can I just say that I love you so so much for senidng me some Ivar thing to write, I am in the mood to write anything about him, so... if you have do send, I love my grumpy murder boy... (also very funny: there was supposed tto be smut, but also... I didn’t want to make it seem too fast, but if you want a continuation with smut, I am here for it! And Ivar...).

(Let’s give some joy to this baby).

Also I know this might stray a bit from the original idea, but I also had a similar idea for a bit and thought about writing it out... if you feel like it doesn’t match your ask just let me know and I’ll write it again!

Also, sorry if Ivar is a bit OOC, he is less grumpy than usual, so... I just feel like “meanie” Ivar would get a knee in the balls from me, so...

Much love, lovely! 

I hope you’ll enjoy it!

WARNINGS: Hvitserk Being A Douche, Ivar Having Enough Of His Bullshit (also I Am Sorry If Your Name Is Elaine).

Ivar hated deeply his brother, in that moment.

He hadn’t been able to quickly get himself out of that position, and he had ended up in tight jeans, looking like an idiot at the bar part of the restaurant they were supposed to meet their dates at.

A few weeks ago, he had noticed Hvitserk quitting any social interaction in favor of his phone and a few days before he had discovered his brother had started a relationship on tinder, with some girl.

He could honestly care less.

But Hvitserk hadn’t only set up a date for himself, but also for his “virgin brother” as he had called him, meanwhile he gave him the news that they would be spending the night at a restaurant, Hvitserk with his pretty girl and Ivar with a best friend of said girl.

“… I just don’t want to meet her alone!” had protested his brother and Ivar had just rolled his eyes, muttering about the fact that Hvitserk was a man and she was a woman “…haven’t you read the news? Bad things can also happen to men!”.

He low key had soon understood that Hvitserk didn’t need a shoulder or some help, but he was trying to set him up so that his brother wouldn’t stay all day onto his sofa, when he wasn’t at work, which meant the only time he would sleep.

“Hvitserk, why do you have to drag me into this?” he mumbled, meanwhile the brother pushed onto the bed a few of his clothes, to try to set up some outfits for the night, meanwhile he sat onto bed, clutching his clutch between his hands.

He knew what would happen if he went with Hvitserk: him and the girl would smirk at each other, and probably have a great time and he would be stared as a freak by the other girl, probably with some kind of snobbish smirk, meanwhile she asked what he had to make his legs like that.

Or worse, he would met a “nurse” that looked at him with pity in his eyes and hoped to cure his heart and legs with the beautiful power of her love.

He swore that if she were like that, he would have thrown up in front of her.

“Oh c’mon! It is going to be a fun night!” Hvitserk, mumbled absentmindedly, meanwhile he set up a tie around a shirt, seeing the match and Ivar had to slam down his hand against it to get him to finally get his attention, with Hvitserk staring at him “… me and Ubbe are just worried about you, you need to socialize more…”.

“I am fine” he mumbled, looked down at his hidden legs.

“Then you won’t mind joining me for a couple of drinks…” replied cheerily Hvitserks, moving in fronto of him to block him from watching elsewhere, showing him his best puppy eyes “… I’ll pay the dinner”.

He perked up, pushing himself onto the clutch, and moved onto the wardrobe.

“Who can say no to free food?”.

But now not even the promise of free food made him feel less nervous and Hvitserks had to stop him from downing another shot of whiskey.

He was low key thankful that he was sitting because it made his flaw stand out less and when Hvitserk elbowed him to make him see that his girl and her girlfriend had arrived he was able to seem almost normal, if not for the crutch next to him.

He also hoped that Hvitserk had told the girl about his problem, so that he hadn’t have to explain it, but he hadn’t much talking to do anymore with his brother, because abandoning him completely. Hvitserk moved closer to the girl smiling gently at her, but before he could welcome her properly, she locked lips together in a crashing and heated kiss that Hvitserk didn’t seem to mind.

The kissing quickly turned into a full blown make out session and Ivar huffed looking at his feet, before he saw near them a pair of booties, standing in front of him and raised his head to meet the stare of the prettiest girl in the room.

She was wearing a simple blazer over a striped shirt, matched with high waisted jeans, with a larger legs, giving her a bohemian look, that made her look easy to approach and the shy smile on her face kept up that impression he had of her.

It would have felt even worse to be dumped by a pretty girl.

“I am very sorry for Elaine” she muttered, her smile awkwardly shuffling on her feet “… she is an only child with daddy issues and tend to latch onto any male figure she sees…”.

He couldn’t stop the little laugh that escaped his lips and she seemed to brighten up a bit, standing straighter.

“I mean… I would like to say that I have excuses for Hvitserk acting like that, but…” he looked at her in her pretty eyes, feeling any emotion blossom and his own shyness retract a bit, just because they seemed so welcoming and nice “…I try not to associate with him, too much”.

She laughed quickly and again her feet were shuffling, and her eyes were down observing the suddenly interesting movement of her feet.

“So, you were also dragged into this?” she asked softly, some kind of insecurity shining in her eyes, clearly she didn’t feel at ease as him in this situation “…I already make my condolences for being stuck with me”.

He honestly understood perfectly insecure girls, but with the body that she had, he couldn’t understand what might make her insecure, mostly with somebody like him.

He also didn’t understand this sudden interest in her, alongside the willingness to seem nice towards her, probably the fact that she had been pretty gracious with him, although she probably hadn’t noticed about the crutch.

“I don’t see why you should say something like that, when you clearly haven’t spoken with me, yet” he mumbled with the same reserved tone, getting a side-eyed confused look by the girl “… and then you might hate Elaine for dragging into this”.

“Are you a serial killer?” she asked, with a conspiratorial look, exaggerated enough that it made him smirk matching perfectly her tone.

“Nope” he rolled the “p”, almost childish, but it made her giggle adorably, sheltering her face with a hand, hiding her adorable smile.

“Well then you just got some pretty points on your favor” she replied, and then sat onto the chair that had belonged to Hvitserk, and Ivar had the perfect chance to take a good look at her body in movement, graciously but with also a slight presence of goofiness.

“… you have low standards” he replied, sarcastically “… even lower than mine”.

The silence that followed him made her think that she had taken personal offence to the reply, and he turned to reply but just found her looking at her confused, before she turned her head away caught in the act of observing him attentively.

He questioned whether he had noticed his “slight problem” but before he could ask or apologize for his harsh sarcasm Elain and Hvitserk mumbled that their table was ready and Ivar noticed that although Elain seemed head over heels for his brother, Hvitserk just seemed like he already wanted to go out.

They settled down and Ivar had the chance to show off his walk on the crutch, which didn’t pass clearly unobserved by those around them a waiter even coming to ask if he needed help settle down and he was slightly thankful to Elaine’s friend (he felt extremely annoyed by the fact that he had been rude enough not even to ask her name, Asluagh would have decked him for being so ungentlemanly) for smiling gently but firmly at the waiter and telling him that “they would manage, just fine, on their own”.

He settled down in front of her, beside Hvitserk, and immediately Elaine moved the hand onto Hvitserk’s grabbing it, with a lovesick smile that brought bile in his mouth, meanwhile a blush spread onto the other girl’s face, but most importantly they were both cut off from the other couple on their own.

“I was such a terrible date already because I didn’t even ask your name and didn’t give you mine” he tried to make small talk and found some kind of relief in the way she immediately was receptive to it, showing interest in him “… I am Ivar”.

“(Y/N)” and then she muttered, spelling wrongly his name and asking if it was alright.

He taught it to her, slowly, making her blush and giggle softly at the pronounce, till she got it right, asking for the story of it, and showing interest in his Viking origins, alongside the story behind it.

After talking about him, she had moved onto offering him some info about herself, and Ivar couldn’t help but be amazed by her interests, alongside interested into knowing more, and he couldn’t help but notice the fact that she kept hiding in herself a bit, shy and insecure.

But soon from two strangers imply making small talk they found themselves to become more involved into each other and most importantly at ease with each other, enough that Ivar found himself slightly attracted by you, and “slightly” as in, he wanted to propose on the spot.

He was still a bit insecure about his legs, but she hadn’t asked much.

Elaine actually did, motioning the crutch, after Hvitserk had tried to escape to the toilette for a bit of privacy (trying to get him to accompany him, but he was enjoying (Y/N)’s presence too much), and focusing her attention onto Ivar, as if he was her next prey.

He was thankful for the way (Y/N) had gently moved her hand onto his, to stop her friend’s eyes from wandering.

“I was born with a disease that makes me legs’ bones pretty frail, they tend not only to fracture easily, but also to weld themselves badly and deformed together” it was useless to say that it was TMI for Elaine who immediately turned her head to Hvitserk as soon as he was back.

He expected the same look of horror on your face but nothing like that appeared on your face, preferring a soft smile, and your hold onto his hand tightened slightly, before it went back over your thighs.

“… that sounds painful to endure” he simply uttered.

“It is” he confirmed, and was thankful her glance wasn’t laced with pity, just strong admiration.

Hvitserk suggested a walk after the dinner, probably so that he could dump Elaine in a more private place, suggesting that (Y/N) and Ivar came back together, idea completely backed up by Elaine who looked like she was ready for a marriage proposal.

(Y/N) actually had the car so she was supposed to be the one who was going to leave him over, meanwhile Hvitserk accompanied her Elaine home, and according to what was going on… he low key was the one who got lucky tonight.

He didn’t think that she would be interested into seeing him again, although he low key wanted to, but the idea to ask her out made him nervous and completely aware that she wasn’t interested in a useless cripple.

In the drive home, the conversation had gone down to a slight small talk, before delving into comfortable silence, and she had suggested he walked him home, and although he usually thought that it was offending to treat him as some kind of less abled man, he took every chance to spend more time together.

And he was low key thankful when he found out that the elevator had stopped working for that night, he had only one floor of stairs to walk and he could have done it alone, but she offered to help him, mostly as an assurance in case he fell.

She came behind him in order to catch him if he ever feel, not invading his space but being close enough.

“I am sorry for this… I know that you low key just want to go to sleep and forget about everything” he joked, getting a slight poke on his side, which got a quiet giggle from him.

“I don’t mind it, and I get to be close to you…” she replied, softly moving her hand onto his hips to steady him, something that he wouldn’t have encouraged from any stranger, but he didn’t mind it, he kind of felt like it was just so natural “… and your wonderful cologne”.

“… that isn’t creepy in the slightest” he retorted, but his tone was light.

He felt as light as he hadn’t felt in a long time, that is probably why when they finally arrived in front of his house he tried to find excuses to make her stay in his mind, but she was the one who spoke first, something for which he was grateful.

“It was a nice night” she started, and then looked down, without facing his eyes “… we should do it again”.

“Oh definitely” he mumbled maliciously, making her raise her head and smirk softly, leaning closer and he met her halfway.

It was a simple caress of lips, but it strangely meant so so much for him: it made him feel alive.

Not strange, not pitied.

She made him feel good.

He might do indeed to propose on the spot.

When they separated, pretty quickly, mostly because she was insecure, he pushed her closer to him and smirked.

“Why wait?” he honestly didn’t care about not being able to satisfy her or anything: he just wanted to be a bit selfish “… I have a few cool things to show you inside”.

“Now that sounds creepy” she mumbled, but quickly followed him, with her hand in his.

Strangely his tinder date came up better than he thought.

He really needed to thank Hvitserk.

[ninimackbrews]

Lover: Chapter 1.5

Chapter 1.5: I think He Knows

Pairing: Henry Standing Bear x Female!Reader, Walt Longmire x Platonic!Reader, Cady Longmire x Godmother!Reader

Warnings: Language, angst, slight smut

WC: 1508

Tags: @the-moons-raes​

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I got that uhh, i mean, wanna see whats under that attitude like I want you, bless my soul and i ain't gotta tell him i think he knows…

   You looked around the apartment, it was no different than it was fifteen years ago when Henry bought the bar. Of course, curtains and furniture were different, but placement and memories were all still the same. You took a seat on the end of the bed, taking in the room you hadn’t been in in a very long time. Your mind wandered to the sleepless nights spent in that bed and the long midnight pillow talks. How you spoke of a future together. But then all of that fell apart. 

   “Y/n?” Henry’s voice broke your concentration. You stood and turned to him. He smiled shyly at you, closing the door and pushing off his shoes. His hair fell in his face and it was all in your power not to walk over and push it back, to not run your hands through it again, to kiss his lips again. It had been too long. “I am glad to see you are still here.” 

    “Are you? If I had a dime for every time you said that I’d be rich.” You teased, taking a step closer to him. He chuckled a bit, shaking his head. He watched you thoughtfully as he leaned against the table. You stood right in front of him, mere inches between you. It was true, he had said that everyday when you lived together. His smile dropped a bit. 

    “I should have told you more, maybe you would have stayed.” Your heart turned to lead and dropped to the floor. The pain in his voice was almost physical. You pushed yourself to stand between his legs and grab his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. 

    “You are not the reason I left Henry, do not think that. I had to leave, but it was not because of you,” you spoke sternly, trying to pour as much emotion into it as you could. Henry stared at you for what felt like forever and a day. He pushed off the table, hands gripping your hips, pushing you back till your knees hit the bed. He lifted you with a grunt tossing you back onto the bed. You huffed, blowing your hair out of your face. 

    “What are you doing?” You raised an eyebrow watching Henry rid himself of the button down flannel. He smirked. 

    “Making up for lost time.” You grinned at him, the heartfelt conversation forgotten. You climbed up onto your knees, pushing his undershirt up helping him pull it over his head. He was not the toned young man you remembered, but he was not unattractive in the least, he was still the most gorgeous man you had seen. You pulled him down by his cheeks, lips colliding sloppily. You drug your nails down his chest, stopping at his jeans, fingers hooking in the belt loops pressing him flush against your chest. He hissed at the feeling, his fingers clawing to pull your shirt over your head. 

    “Then let's drop the attitude.” Henry gave you a teasing look, his hands running the expanse of your now bare sides. A shiver ran down your spine as his fingers worked skillfully at the clasp of your bra. You kissed down his chest leaving purple and pink bruises in your wake. Your bra was discarded somewhere with your shirt across the room. You grinned up at him and he stared down, pushing your shoulders lightly to lay you down again. He crawled up your body, lips delicately kissing up your torso. Your hand weaved into his hair, tugging him up to your mouth. Henry met your lips fiercely, it was a tongue and teeth clash, skillfully pushing his tongue past your lips. You moaned at the feeling. You gave a particularly hard tug at his hair and he groaned into your mouth, leaning away, nipping at your bottom lip. A giggle left you. 

    “Do you still like that Standing Bear?” You bit his lip softly, soothing the area with your tongue. Henry groaned again, head dropping to nuzzle your shoulder. 

    “Only when you do it Y/l/n,” he whispered against you ear, taking the lobe between his teeth, giving it a small nip. You sighed in appreciation, the action reminding you of your first time with Henry. The way he bit you hadn’t changed any. The way he touched you gently, but desperately was the same as it had been when you were 17, when you were 21, when you were 25. Henry’s lips explored your neck like it was his first time touching you. You tugged on the roots of his hair, rolling your hips up against his. Henry hissed through clenched teeth, pressing his body against yours, meeting time with your hips. 

      “Do that again and I will not hold back,” he muttered to your chest, nipping at it playfully. You smirked, your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his lips ghosting over your left nipple. You raised your hips once more, trying to relieve the pressure building between your thighs. Henry slipped a thigh between your legs pushing down against your most sensitive area. You moaned at the feeling, rutting against the muscle. Henry kissed back up your neck. 

      “I don’t want you to hold back,” you teased, hand dragging your nails down his bare back. You licked a long stripe up his ear. He growled, and that was the trigger. 

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      You fell forward onto Henry’s chest panting. Your palm against his stomach and the other supporting you by his head. You nuzzled his neck, letting out soft giggle, his hair tickling your face. Henry sighed as you slid off of him, leg still across his hips, his arm around your shoulders. 

     “Well that was…” you took a pause looking for the right verb somewhere in your euphoria clouded mind. Henry found one before you did. 

     “Worth the wait.”

     You both laughed lightly. His hand carded through your hair softly as you both embraced the silence. 

     “What you said earlier…” you whispered drawing small circles on his chest. Henry stayed silent. “Did you mean that?” Silence. Two circles. “Because it had nothing to do with you…me leaving…” Circle. “It was a lot of different things, but you were not one of them Henry.” Silence. You leaned up onto your elbow to look at him. Henry looked at you. “Henry, please acknowledge what I am saying.” 

     He hesitated. “What do you want me to say Y/n? That I understand and I forgive you? I forgave you a long time ago, but I have not and will not forget it. I came home and you were gone. I was distraught without you! You did not even tell me goodbye!” A tear rolled down his cheek, you had the inclining to wipe it away, but held back. “Why did you leave if not because of me?” Your heart clenched at the desperation in his voice. You had never seen him this vulnerable. You sat up completely, taking his hand in yours, resting it in your lap. 

     “He got out,” you mumbled, so quietly it was surprising he heard you at all. Henry sat up against the wall, face scrunched in confusion. 

     “He? Who… no he was not supposed to be released.” The confusion that laced his voice was the exact confusion you suffered when you found out about his release. 

     “You’re right, he wasn’t supposed to get out, but they let him out on probation. He had stopped me when I went to the store that day. He said if I didn’t leave he’d… he’d…” you held back a sob, your free hand covering your mouth. Henry leaned forward. 

     “What was he going to do Y/n?” 

     “He said he… he would kill you if I didn’t leave, and I, I couldn’t let him hurt you Henry, I couldn’t, I love you and if he had done anything to you I don’t know what I would have done with myself, Henry I couldn’t lose you like that, I couldn’t let him do that, I had to leave Henry, I love you and I… I…” you choked on your sobs, Henry pulled you to his chest, his arms wrapped around you made you feel secure to an extent. 

     “Shh, Y/n, breathe. He cannot hurt you anymore,” His soothing voice whispered in your ear. You sobbed till your lungs burned and your throat was raw. You clung to Henry for grounding, the stable rock you had always held onto when you were drowning in fear those years ago. 

      “Let us go to bed and discuss this more in the morning, yes?” Henry pulled you back to look you in the eyes. You sniffled with a small nod. Henry laid down, pulling you onto his chest. You nuzzled into his neck, his smell intoxicating, allowing you to drift to sleep in his arms. 

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This is short I know, and I am so so sorry its been so long since I have written for this, but here it is. I have a break in school coming up so I should be able to write more for this!! Also if you like Vikings keep an eye out for a new story im starting!!

[geeky-introvert]

Good Girl I . Ivar X OC

Summery: Enar was just a girl from a fishing village when Viking’s raided her town and found herself thrown into a life of slavery, and that wasn’t just it. She was given to Prince Ivar as his own personal slave by his mother and she’ll do whatever it took to survive on her own in the cruel world....

Word count: 5444

Warning: Slavery, slight dub-con and smut.

Tag List: @lisinfleur @mdlady @didiintheblog @alicedopey @lupy22@rekdreams247 @mblaqgi @oddsnendsfanfics@aphnxrising @happydaysandersen @therealcalicali @naaladareia@inforapound @captstefanbrandt @waiting4inspiration @tabalugax @p8tn0lish

If anyone else wants to be added to the tag list let me know please.

Gif credit goes to @allvikingsfanfic

It felt like her existing life had been ripped away. They had come out from the fogs off the shores and raided the fishing village she lived in with her parents, both of whom were dead, slashed and cut down like they were nothing. She had tried to escape and fought back but never had a chance as she was tossed over a bloodied shoulder and carried back to their boats with her broken sobs deaf to the ears.

The journey was unpleasant and after days at sea they had arrived back to Kattegat.

Most of the new slaves were taken to be sold to the highest bidder while a small handful of them were shoved aside like they were for someone else, her being one of them. A woman approached them gracefully; her elegant beauty couldn’t be missed by anyone. She was Queen Aslaug of Kattegat.

Enar had knots twisting in her stomach with her eyes staring down at the floor boards, her small frame shook with fear as the queen stopped in front of her. Long slender fingers lifted her chin up forcing her to look at the queen and her enthralled beauty. Tears couldn’t be stopped as they streamed down her rosy cheeks.

Aslaug looked closely at the young girl with curiosity, looking over her creamy pale skin and light brown hair, dark blue orals like the depths of the sea. Despite her being covered in dirt, dried blood which wasn’t her own and knots all through her hair with tear stained cheeks from her puffy eyes, the queen saw all past this. She looked inside her mouth for a quick moment and smiled warmly at the young girl. She than had Enar brought to the hall with others she had picked out for slaves.

When entering the great hall the slaves were taken away by another to show them of their duties. Enar was about to follow suit when she felt a hand over her shoulder, prevent her from going anywhere else.

“You will remain here, this way, child.”

Aslaug lead her over to the large dinning table and had her sit down. Enar did as she was told. If she was to survive the brutal life she knew she would need to obey and accept the new life, as much has her heart still ached from the loss of her parents and her home, she had to move on to survive.

The queen watched her in silence with a tilt from her head, like she was pondering what to do with her next. She could only fiddle with her hands nervously in her lap and took deep breaths to give her any sort of comfort.

“Tell me, child, what is your name?” No harshness came from her.

“Enar, your grace.” She answered with a quiet voice earning the queens smile to linger.

“You are still young, Enar.” Aslaug commented. “I believe you have a good heart and are nurturing.” Leaning forward she grasp Enar’s hands softly in her own. “Do you promise to be loyal and commit yourself as a slave?”

Enar was caught off guard. She could only stare at the queen with her mouth gaping, words failing to fall out as the silence lingered. Perhaps she wanted her to be her own personal slave, an important position she guessed, and the queen seemed to be kind to her, for the time being that was. She was on her own to survive with no one else to protect her and had to make her own choices in life, and with that thought she answered what she believed was right.

“Yes, your grace.”

“I knew you would say that, I just had to hear it from you.” The way she said it sounded strange but didn’t question the queens meaning by it.

The sound of something dragging along the ground got Enar’s attention and looked over at the entrance to see a young man crawling towards them. She narrowed her brows in confusion before noticing his legs were bound together with a brace, and figured he was a cripple. Not wanting to be rude she forced her eyes away and stared in front of her. From the corners of her eyes she saw him pushing himself up into a chair at the table, letting out a grunt as he settled himself comfortably.

“Where have you been all morning, Ivar?” Aslaug asked with concern.

“Sparring with my brothers, mother.” He smiled with a dramatic roll from his eyes.

“The distance is too long for you to go on your own, why didn’t any of your brothers help you back?”

Enar felt Aslaug’s love for her son, a warm motherly feeling she was familiar with. It was something was she never going to have again and never stopped to think just how much she really missed it. Ivar though didn’t look that much older than her, not a little boy like Aslaug spoke to him.

“I am capable, mother,” He then noticed Enar.

She felt his cold and alluring blue eyes lingering over her like a frozen spear was about to be thrown. Never had she seen eyes so beautiful and deadly at once. A shiver broke through her as their eyes met, his gaze roaming over her deep in thought before showing an amused smile.

“Who is this?”

“This is Enar, she is a new slave.” She felt the queens fingers brushing over her hair in gentle strokes like she was trying to calm her, but it only made her uncomfortable, especially from her next words. “I am giving her to you as your own.”

She felt like she had just been tricked by the queen into thinking falsely, but remembered she didn’t clarify what she wanted her for, she just misjudged. And now she was to be her son’s own slave. Her eyes met with his again with a hint of fear, he stared back only lightly surprised before giving a wide pleased smile.

“She is mine?” He sounded like an excited little boy with a new toy which didn’t settle well for her. His mother nodded.

“Yes. She has a kind heart and has given her loyalty. I’m sure she will do well for you, my son.” She stopped stroking her hair and called over another slave. “Margrethe, have her bathed and clothed.”

She followed Margrethe out the hall, feeling nothing but Ivar’s piercing eyes on her and his cruel smile stretched wide forcing her to quiver under his dark gaze.

Enar felt grateful as Margrethe helped washing away her grimy skin and relaxed under the tenderness from her fingers as she massaged her scalp while washing her hair. Margrethe offered kind smiles and spoke to her. She had learned that Margrethe had been a slave for Aslaug’s and her sons for quite some time now and that she was treated well.

“Will Ivar treat me well if I obey him?” She had hoped.

The dreaded look from Margrethe didn’t settle well. “He can be unpredictable, and his anger can be quiet terrifying. All I can offer for advice is to be careful around him.” If it meant for her survival she’ll take it.

Once dressed Margrethe lead her back into the great hall and over to Ivar who had waited very impatiently for them.

“It is about time.” He spat towards Margrethe.

“I am sorry, Ivar.” it was all she could say with her head hung low.

He waved her away with annoyance and looked upon Enar standing away from him before he structured her to come forward with his finger.

“Come closer, slave.”

Enar willed herself to move forward with nervous steps towards him. She had to prove him that she was going to obey and not cause any trouble, that was the las thing she wanted to do, and had to make it easier on herself too. When she was close enough Ivar reached out grabbing at her skirt and pulled her forcefully to him, causing a small frightened gasp from her as their eyes met. His eyes stared at her like a hungry wolf gleaming in delight.

Ivar bit his lips while holding a giddy smile as both his hands reached around her and groped her rear, his fingers digging into her roughly causing her to bite back a whimper and closed her eyes to avoid his predatory gaze.

She trembled with every passing second his hands touched her inappropriately before he stopped with his harsh treatment and started rubbing her rear almost lovingly. From the other end of the table Aslaug watched them while drinking wine, curios to see if Enar meant by her word, and she did.

“You are very pretty,” he told her, “I would hate for your face to be damaged.” His threat was clear but showed no motive to harm her, yet. “Do you truly swear upon all the gods to obey me?” Swallowing back a lump she met his lingering gaze with a firm nod.

“I swear.”

“You will answer to me as master, is that understood?”

“Yes, master.”

“Good girl.” He pushed her away and removed his leather vest around him and held it out to her. “Stitch the loose threading, can you manage that?” She already had knowledge and skills with sewing thanks to her mother.

“Yes, master.” She could only force a shy smile.

During dinner, Enar was told to sit next to him as she nearly finished with the sewing. His hand lay over her thigh, rubbing and tightening his hold as if he was reminding her of her position, like she needed reminding. She could only try staying focused on the stitching and adjust to his warm hand on her.

The smell of the food laying out the table hit her senses like rocks thrown at her. She took a glance at the presented food before focusing on her stitching again to distract her. Her stomach made a painful gurgle and when Ivar heard it he snickered in amusement before picking at his food again.

The silence in the great hall was uplifted when more people entered with loud chatted and laughter among each other as they seated along the table. They were Ivar’s older brothers, Ubbe, Hvitserk, and Sigurd.

“You are late,” Aslaug bluntly said resting the rim of her wine at her chin.

“We are here now,” Sigurd said without care. Ubbe had thrown some food at Hvitserk making them laugh at one another, and it would’ve continued if their mother didn’t stop it.

“You are men, not children. Now eat.”

As Ubbe was piling his food he turned to face Ivar only for his gaze to be met with Enar. He practically dropped the food he held and stared in awe at her with a ghostly smile. Although his smile was gentle, his eyes held a lustful stare that sent shivers through her as their gazes held.

“Hello, what is your name?” She tensed when Ivar tightened his hand over her thigh like he was warning her.

“Enar….”

“That is a beautiful name, I’m Ubbe.” He tried charming her with kind words.

Hvitserk and Sigurd had finally looked over at her and now she had the three older brothers staring at her with the same gaze and smiles. Feeling uncomfortable she looked down at her stitching, finishing off the last bit with their lingering stares remaining on her. Ivar’s hand on her thigh continued to stroke her and gave a few gentle pats, as like he was praising her for not giving them any attention.

“Enar is a new slave and she is mine, not for you to rut.” Ivar clarified his brothers. They gave confused expressions.

“Ivar, you have to share, you cannot be greedy.” Said Ubbe with Hvitserk agreeing.

“I don’t like sharing.” Ivar growled while Sigurd scoffed.

“She is a slave and we can do as we like with her. You have no claim.”

“Actually mother gave her to me which means she is mine.” He proudly said. Sigurd shook his head in disapproval.

“You cannot give him his own slave.” He directed to his mother.

“And why is that, Sigurd?”

“He will kill her, it will be a waste. As princes we should be allowed to bed whatever slave we want.”

“Yes, you are right.” The brothers stared at their mother holding hope that she would allow it. “You may bed whoever you please, you are princes and there are many thralls for you to share. I gave Ivar his own because I think it would be good for him to have someone his age that is kind and loyal. Enar is Ivar’s the keep and if any of you wish to bed her you will need to discuss it with Ivar. I will not be a part of this argument any further.” Aslaug made it clear and went back to eating silently, ignoring her sons for the rest of the evening.

Enar’s face was burning with embarrassment as they all spoke about her like she wasn’t in the same room. She had tried just focusing on her last stitching as the silence lingered before Ubbe spoke.

“Ivar, at least think about it-“

“No!” he shouted slamming his fit against the table causing her to jump from his outburst. “Go stick your prick in Margrethe if you want to fuck something.”

They wanted to argue more but with no support from their mother and their brother’s refusal they gave up their attempts and returned to their meals. It won’t be the last time, when they get the chance they’ll make an advantage at her.

Just knowing what they were after made her feel very uncomfortable. Her mother had given her the talk on how sex happened, and the reason they had this talk was because her parents wanted her to be happy with someone she loved and to not be fooled. Getting married and having a family of her own was only a few of her desires and even though she was still young she dreamed of her future husband for many nights. That dream was no more. She was a slave now to a prince and what he had planned for her she didn’t know.

“I’m finished, master,” he took his vest back with a broad smile and admired her neat threading.

“Well done, Enar.” He purred her name softly, sending an odd feeling through her body and a warm heating at her cheeks.

He noticed this and snickered softly as he pushed his plate of food in front of her offering his left overs. It was still food, and so she gave a warm yet frightened smile.

“Thank you, master.”

Enar had to quickly learn her place and adjust to the new life suddenly thrown at her. As horrible as it was she learned to accept as she didn’t see herself fighting for her freedom would go so well. She was alive and that’s what mattered, at least that was what she told herself.

Every night she would draw him a bath and help bathe him, at first it was awkward seeing his full self and his deformed legs but it was a duty he expected from her. He had threatened her that if she ever touched his leg’s he’ll kill her, a simple and clear threat didn’t need to be repeated. His legs never bothered her and never touched or questioned about them.

She had expected to be sleeping in the barn like the other slaves; Ivar however wanted her in his own bed. The thought of sharing his bed had frightened her as she had thought the worst that he was going to have his way with her. That didn’t happened though, and instead he had wrapped his arms around her burying his face into her waist like a little boy clinging onto their mother for comfort. At first she was a little baffled but and slowly sympathised for him understanding that all he wanted was some sort of comfort, probably to deal with his pain from his legs.

Ivar was difficult to predict with his cruel playful stares and malice smiles. He would toy around with her most days, touching her and holding her close as if the wind was going to carry her away, she didn’t resist as he did this knowing he wouldn’t be pleased if she refused.

In the four months she had learned more about Ivar and his brothers. The relationship with Ubbe and Hvitserk was normal along wth their eldest half-brother Bjorn was a terrifying man to look at but hadn’t shown must attention to her, while with Sigurd it was strained. There was one time Ivar and Sigurd had an argument or disagreement about something and Sigurd stormed away with a smug grin like he had won. Ivar’s nostrils flared and his anger boiled with fury, and wanted to hurt something, and the closest thing happened to be Enar. She was pulled to the ground letting out a surprised yelp and pinned down with his hand at her throat, his grip tightening with the life struggling in her.

She had panicked and reached out to Ivar’s face giving him soothing strokes, chocking words with plea for air to sooth him however she could. He had realised what he had done and loosened his hold allowing her to breathe again. His thumb rubbed her sore neck and even placed a kiss on the area making her gasp under the tender moment under him. It confused her to see his personality change so quickly. He let her up and carried on as if nothing happened.

Even though Ubbe and Hvitserk were friendly they were also a problem with their obsession and desire for her. They had tried on many occasions to approach and to get her alone with either of them. There was even one time during a feast Hvitserk had distracted Ivar while Ubbe had took her hand and led her to the other end of the hall in the furthest corner where no one would disturb them. She had tried to get away but he only held her around her waist and held her close to him with his charming smile. His sweet words were whispered into her ear trying to coax her into his allure before he had tried kissing her, but she only rolled her away and managed to wiggle out of his hold and she ran back into Ivar’s lap knowing that was the safest place for her. Ivar was quick to pick up on what had happened and was pretty angry with his brothers for attempting to steal his thrall. They wanted to share her in their beds and continued to try and wager something with Ivar, he of course turned down everything they could offer.

At dinners she continued to feel their fond stares on her and hope for her to meet their gaze at least once but she never did. It wasn’t as if she hated them, they were kind but their sexuality was too wild. Sigurd would glare at Ivar with jealousy before looking away with a scoff.

She found herself settled more in Ivar’s lap over time while she felt a safety wall built around her the closer she was with him. Ivar felt rather pleased how his slave was so well behaved and even more seeing how jealous his brothers were of him having her all for himself. Just to annoy them more he even played with her hair while she fed him fruits. He would suck her fingers and kiss her knuckles with a gleaming smile as she gave a shy smile in return. She knew the game and went along with it, knowing it please Ivar, which meant a happy Ivar.

As the months passed she was became settled more and grew used to the life suddenly thrown at her. Nothing had changed, but all that was about to change.

Enar carried a heavy pitcher of boiled water over to the basin while Ivar waited for his bath to be prepared for him. She felt his eyes watching her which was no surprise, he always watched her, but for some reason she felt it was different than other times. Looking up she met his gaze with a gentle smile, something she had grown used to doing when they met eyes and he would always smirk or grin back, but this time his expression was black. It was like he was searching for something and couldn’t find it, almost lost. Her smile disappeared and looked away as she poured the last pitcher into the basin.

She helped him undress and removed his bracers for him leaving only his trousers on. It was only recently that he allowed her to do it, his trust slowly growing as she continued to serve him. When she went to stand he grabbed her wrist and pulled her forcefully almost making her fall forward against him. Her breathe caught in her throat when their noses bumped and felt his hot breathe against her skin. He stared at her with his dark gaze and rolled his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

“Remove my pants.”

She didn’t question and carefully pulled them down his legs. They had their ups and downs, there were rare days Ivar wanted to chat and she would sit and listen, intrigued by his knowledge, and most days he would be demanding and short tempered, and she learned to act quick to avoid disappointing him.

Enar helped him into the basin and started to gently wash his body with the wet rag. She had only just started at his arm when he spoke.

“Do my legs disgust you?”

“No, master.”

“Why?” He sounded bitter, like he was expecting her to say ‘yes’.

“You cannot change how you were born, it is who you are. Your legs shouldn’t bother anyone.”

The change in his eyes softened at her words. “Do you have siblings?”

“No, master, I am an only child.” And orphan. It still hurt to think about it.

“Hm…Sometimes I feel like one too.” He must’ve had a fight with his brothers again.

“Is there anything I can do to make you happy, master?”

Ivar stared blankly ahead for a moment before facing her. His pupils dilated with a new kind of thrill as he bit his bottom lip in thought, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.

“Take off your clothes.”

The rag was dropped into the water with a wet splash as she froze at his command. She met his eyes frozen in her shock filled her position kneeling at the side of the basin and stare dumbfounded at him. When she did or said nothing he gave her a hard glare.

“You said anything. Are you refusing me, slave?”

Enar breathed through her mouth trying to calm her raising heart and trying to form words clearly. “I-I…Master I….-“

“Did you suddenly become deaf?” She was making him angry and didn’t want that. For months she had done everything he had said but this was something completely different. There was no choice for her though and she knew that.

“No, master.” she finally answered him in a low voice.

Ivar leaned closer to the edge and took her chin into his rough fingers. “Take off your clothes. I won’t repeat myself again. Than join me.”

Enar promised herself she would do whatever it took to survive even if it meant giving herself away, and so she complied. “Yes, master.”

With shaky hands she moved the dress from her shoulders and down her arms, pulling them free from the sleeves and hesitantly rolling down her waist while holding what she could at her chest. She held her dignity for a moment longer, her glassy eyes staring at him before letting the dress pool around her ankles. Her breath hitched as she felt the cold air bit her skin with Ivar’s eyes looking her up and down with lustful eyes, tongue dipping out to lick his lips while admiring her fresh body. She let out a shaky exhale as she stepped into the basin being careful to not hurt his legs and lowered herself into his exposed lap.

Ivar grabbed at her waist and pulled her against him letting her small breasts pressing against his chest. The sudden movement made her shutter a gasp and hands resting over his shoulders for some kind of support as his hands rubbed around her hips.

“That wasn’t so hard now was it?” He said with a hint of amusement and lifted the rag between them.

“N-no, master,” she could only take the rag and start to wash down his chest again with shaky breaths.

She didn’t know how long she had been washing his chest for. All she could feel were his hands roaming over her naked self and moving up to her breasts groping them making her whimper quietly. Something warm and thick touched between her thighs and knew soon enough it was his cock which was rising slowly. Ivar looked down between them with curios eyes and let out a quiet breathily laugh making it sound like relief.

“Are you a virgin?”

“Y-yes, master.” she shuttered.

A generally warm and achy tingling swelled in her belly and squirmed in his lap trying to ease the off feeling, but only made it grow more when she rubbed her folds against his growing cock and the distracting feel only boiled more. Her skin felt flushed under his roaming fingers, mapping her hips and waist with a satisfied grin.

He wanted to do things to her he had seen his brothers do to the slave, Margrethe. Spying on them had been the only way for him to know what women liked, and he wanted to try it with Enar. Eventually Ubbe did tell him a few things, about how it was best for women to be wet before entering them, and that was what he was going to seek out.

His hands moved up her body over her shoulder and another behind her neck. He was nervous as he moved forward and pressed his lips against hers. Her first kiss was warm and tender. Enar didn’t push away or refuse him. She liked it, and deepened the kiss more from her end earning a low moan from him. It was only quick before the kiss was broken and their foreheads touched, eyes glazed deeply into one another. Ivar’s eyes were truly memorizing.

A deep feral sound came from him before he lunged at her, biting her lips and invading her mouth with his tongue, devouring her and holding her body tightly in place. She could only hold onto his shoulders and let out a muffled wince against the harsh kiss, willing herself to not pull away from him.

The water swished in the basin as they moved in motion with the kiss, his cock rock hard and rubbing between their joined bodies. Enar felt lost in the moment she had not become aware of his hand that was lowering down between them before she felt his fingers touching her heated core.

It was unexpected and fear gripped her chest as she pulled away from the kiss with a half squeaked gasp. Ivar gave her a warning glare before pulling forcefully against him again, holding her down and started kissing her neck and down towards her collarbone, all the while his finger moved over her warm folds, right before he pressed his finger into her, entering her tight entrance.

Enar let out a broken sob as his finger invaded her tight depths. It hurt a little to have his rough finger stroking her walls moving back and forth with his hot breath hitting her neck. The dual pain was turning into new sensual feeling bubbling up in her stomach, it left her confused from what she was feeling as he continued fingering her. She felt moister soaking up his finger into her depths and furrowed her brows before remembering her mother telling her once about it. It was a good thing.

“You are so wet for me.” Ivar whispered licking the shell of her ear, “such a good girl.”

She willed herself to relax and adjust to him. Closing her eyes she started to moan lowly with rocking her waist against his hand, the movement caused the tingling warmth to rise up and soon rested her head against his chest, continuing to rock against him and moan gently.

Ivar chuckled lightly and licked his lips feeling rather pleased with himself. His cock was aching and didn’t want to delay anymore. He removed his finger from her and quickly adjusted the both of them. Lining himself he pressed his cock against her folds and stole another kiss, right before shoving her down onto him roughly.

Her pained scream was muffled against his lips sealing any loud sounds from her. Pain throbbed around her core as his thick cock twitched against her stretched walls, his hands held her still on him by her hips savouring the feeling of her tightness. Tears streamed down her face and he broke away from the kiss to lick them clean while hearing her quiet weeping vibrated against his ear.

A small bit of blood mixed with the water surrounding them and he licked his lips at the sight of it. He started to rock her against him, moving her hips in his hands as he let out a shuttered breath and engulfed the bliss surround his cock. “So wet, so tight.” He moaned smiling. “Such a good girl for me.”

The feeling of his shaft stretching and moving within had been painful to endure at first, and as the pain duelled growing pleasure was rousing within. Her heat pounded, fear and pleasure mixing together with what was happening and started to rock against his shaft, moans rising from her lips as the warmth continued to boil within.

As she started to move on her own Ivar moved his hands down to her rear, gripping and spreading them as he tipped his head back letting out pleased groans. The water continued to splash over the edge of the basin as their movements grew more intense with Enar grinding against his cock.

Ivar moved up and pulled her against him and snarled harshly into her ear. “Do you like it? Do you like it when I fuck you?”

“Y-yes, master.” She managed to whimper.

“How does it feel?”

“It feels good! S-so good…” She answered in a hoarsely whisper.

“Good.” He grinned with a hiss. “Say my name!”

“I-Ivar, it–ah!” She whimpered trying to speak words against the rising pleasure rushing throughout her. “S-something’s happening? I cannot–Ivar!”

Her words broke feeling herself tighten around his cock and threw back her head with a soft cry, pleasure bursting all over and toes curled back as Ivar snarled like a beast feeling her reach her peak with his own approaching very close. Lunging forward he bit into her shoulder marking her as his and gave a few more brutal thrusts with his strong hips before erupting himself in her depths with his seed.

The water had lost most of its heat but neither of them cared. Ivar held her close letting out heavy pants as she leaned her head against his shoulder and both arms wrapped around his neck.

His fingers stroked over her bleeding shoulder where he marked her and admired his work. She made small wince from the wound. No doubt it would sting for a while which only made him smirk, knowing it might scar so everyone knew who she belonged to.

“I’m going to keep you forever, only I will ever be your master. Do you understand?” His response was a tired nuzzle earning a soft laugh from him. “I know you are tired, my pet, but I need you to answer for me.”

“I understand, master.”

“Good girl.”

[dreamwritesimagines]

Faint Of Heart 25- Enemies [Ivar x Reader]

A.N.: I love your feedback so much, it makes my day ❤️ Please keep it coming, kisses! ❤️

Summary: Pretending is difficult.

Characters: Ivar x Reader, Ubbe x Torvi, Hvitserk, Bjorn

Warnings: Explicit language, mentions of violence and blood, mentions of sex and arranged marriage, please read with care. Also, friendly reminder that  I don’t condone any of the messed up stuff happening on the show or in here.

Word Count: 4630

Due to the linking issue, previous chapters are in my masterlist!  ❤️

Gif’s not mine!

“I’m sorry, let me repeat this-“ Bree frowned at you, “He said you may return to how you used to be?”

“Yes.”

“Is that how Vikings apologize?”

“Ivar doesn’t apologize,” you mumbled and hushed Eitr who flapped her wings angrily the second she heard Ivar’s name. You ran your fingers over her soft feathers before you pressed your lips over her wing in an attempt to calm her down, and she snuggled closer to your hair for a moment before she started flying in the room.

“And?”

“And nothing.”

“Y/N.”

“Nothing happened. I closed the door and went to bed.”

Then cried until the sunrise.

“You haven’t forgiven him then?”

You swallowed thickly, then shrugged, “I don’t think I ever will be able to forgive him.”

Bree heaved a sigh, “If it’s any consolation, he’s suffering as well.”

“No he’s not.”

“Well, let’s just say you haven’t seen him this morning.”

You dragged your glances from Eitr to Bree, who was sitting up in your bed, “What?”

“I’ve seen how he was, when we first got there,” Bree said, “It’s almost as if I’m looking at a different man.”

“But promise me one day you will.”

Ivar groaned, dropping his head to your neck for one moment, his breath tickling your skin before he raised his head again.

“You’re not serious, little shark.”

“I’m very serious!”

“You want me to take you, to an actual battle?”

“Yes!” You insisted and Ivar raised his brows,

“For some reason, I don’t think you’d like that.”

“Torvi goes to battles with Ubbe!”

“Torvi can also lift a sword to put it through someone’s chest.”

“That’s just one small detail.” You muttered, and Ivar licked his lips.

“I thought you got sick at the sight of blood.”

“Another detail.”

“Also, you cannot have baths for days during battle.”

“Another detail.”

“That sounds like too many details.”

“Very insignificant details, if I may add.”

Ivar heaved a sigh, pushing your hair off your face, “Are you not forgetting one very significant detail though?”

“What?”

“I’d lose the battle if you were there.”

You pulled your brows together, “How come?”

“You cannot be enchanted during battle,” he shot you a mischievous look and you giggled, shifting slightly under him,

“So unless you’d like to be widowed at this young age-“

Your smile disappeared from your lips in a second, “Ivar, don’t even jest about that.”

“I’m just saying, in a battle-“

“No, don’t say that,”

He pulled back slightly to look at you better, his frown mirroring yours, “It would be the most glorious death. To ascend me to Valhalla-“ he was cut off when you pushed him slightly to sit up, leaning your back to the headboard.

“Is that what you’re trying to do then? In battles?”

He rolled his eyes, “Y/N-“

“Are you?”

“I’m not trying to die,” he heaved a sigh, “I’m merely saying that’s a possibility.”

A silence fell upon you as you tried to blink back the tears, and he raised your chin slightly, a smile pulling at his lips,

“Why? Would you mourn for me?”

“Ivar, I would suffer for the rest of my life,” the confession left your lips, “Is that what you want to do? To make me suffer?”

His eyes searched yours, then he shook his head, his thumb tracing your cheekbone,

“No,” his voice was soft, “I would suffer if you did.”

“Ivar does not suffer,” you stated as you snapped out of the memory, shaking your head, “It’s always me who suffers.”

Bree fell into silence for a moment, “You’ll understand when you see him. So-um, Bjorn spoke to me.”

You pulled your brows together, “About what?”

“Me. Staying.”

Your head snapped up, “Did he?”

“He made very-ehm, very valid points.”

“Oh, such as what?” you grinned at her, “Or don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. Or wait no- tell me, I want to know- is it very scandalous? Have you been to his- Gods, Bree, have you?”

Bree grinned at you, “Have I what?”

“Have you done…” you motioned at her, “You know.”

“What?”

“I swear you’re worse than Ivar- have you been um… seduced?”

She let out a laugh, “Oh seduced, that’s what you call it here?”

“Bree!”

“We haven’t seduced each other…thoroughly, if that’s what you mean,” she stated, “Just empty hallway kisses and whispers, I feel as if I am a maiden again.”

“But has he convinced you?”

Bree’s smile faded slightly, “Y/N…”

“Bree, wouldn’t you want to stay for him?”

“We barely know each other, my sweet.”

“Fine, wouldn’t you want to stay here for me?”

That got her silent and you swallowed thickly,

“Today is their last meeting.”

“I know.”

“So he- you- he will be leaving soon.”

“I know that too,” Bree shook her head, “Let us not speak of such things. Did you give Inkeri her kitten?”

“Gala has. Um- she told her Freyja sent it.”

Bree smiled, “And?”

“I wish I were there to see it, Gala says she was very happy and hugged her,” you felt emotional for some reason, and you frowned at yourself, “Anyway, I should be in the Great Hall, walk with me?”

Bree nodded and followed you as you walked out of your bedchambers, with Eitr flying behind you. She had gotten used to flying behind you in the last couple of days, as if she knew how vulnerable you felt without her by your side.

You stopped as soon as you entered the Great Hall, your eyes falling on the table where Ivar, Ubbe and Bjorn were sitting by, and all of a sudden, you were distracted from the usual crowd of the hall.

Oh.

That was what Bree had meant.

Ivar didn’t even look like he was aware of anything that was happening around him, his Earls, his warriors, even his brothers. His head hung low, his fingertips touching each other with a cup of ale remaining untouched by his right hand.

Eitr flew by your shoulder to circle the hall, and Ivar’s head shot up upon hearing the flap of wings, his eyes searching the crowd almost frantically to find you. Bjorn stood up from his chair to walk to you and Bree, and you hardly noticed him brushing his hand to Bree’s as he walked past her, and Bree muttering some excuse to follow him out of the hall, while you stared at Ivar.

He looked almost as bad as you felt. His eyes were bloodshot, and he didn’t look like he had any sleep –or food- since last night, but you forced yourself to drag your glances away from him as someone his throat beside you.

Hvitserk.

“He doesn’t look very happy, does he?” he mused and you gawked at him,

“You- you’re back?”

“You could say that.”

“Where have you been the last couple of days?”

“I was staying with Floki,” he sipped his drink, “Heartbreak doesn’t look as good on him as it does on you, huh?”

You scoffed, “Ivar doesn’t get heartbroken, Hvitserk.”

Hvitserk only raised his brows “Apparently he does,” he said, “Don’t get me wrong, you made the right decision. It was about time you hurt him back.”

“How do you know I hurt him?”

He rolled his eyes, “He’s miserable, how else?” he said “Come on. We should go.”

“Go where?”

“Map room. Last meeting, that’s why I came- well, was summoned back. We should uh… not let see your brother see any fall outs, or something, I honestly don’t listen to any of this nonsense anymore.”

Oh.

So in return of you learning heartbreak from him, Ivar had learned some court business from you.

Bjorn entered the hall again, ignoring your slight grin and nodded at the map room,

“Let’s go.”

“How’s Bree?” you whispered to him as you caught up with his long strides and he looked down at you,

“She says she’s considering.”

“That’s a good sign.”

“I guess so.”

“It is a big decision but I’m confident-“

“Sister,” Edgard said as soon as you walked into the room and both Hvitserk and Bjorn took their seats. You hesitated only for a moment before you took your seat next to Ivar, feeling his body tense up beside yours.

It was strange, really. It used to be much, much easier to pretend. But now, sitting there next to him, your hands resting on the table but not touching each other, it almost hurt just how much you couldn’t pretend.

For once, you couldn’t snap back into years of court education.

“Are you feeling better?”

“I’m still a little sick, I’m afraid.”

Edgard raised his brows, “Ivar?”

“I’m sick as well,” Ivar’s voice was almost hoarse, as if he had been yelling for hours.

“Perhaps it’s contagious.”

“No, it’s just Kattegat’s weather.” Ubbe commented and Ivar nodded.

“Probably. One moment warm and one moment ice cold.”

You narrowed your eyes, clenching your teeth.

Good. He was catching up with the court language as well.

“It was long coming, Ivar.” You stated, “Perhaps you should have prepared yourself.”

Ivar turned his head to look at you, but Edgard cleared his throat.

“So the last decisions,” Edgard said, “We get these two towns, and you get the coast, and these three.” He motioned at the map, “And what did we say? Quarter of the expenses of warrior’s families-“

“Half,” you corrected him, “We said half.”

“Fine, half. But we get the half of the treasury and gold, no matter who claims the towns. Anything else?”

“You pay our army’s expenses as well.” You reminded him and he made a face, then turned to Ivar.

“Then it’s settled,” he motioned at the men to bring the parchment and the ink pot along with the quills, but the scent of ink was too strong for some reason, which made your stomach flip. Ivar and your brother signed it, and your brother heaved a sigh, standing up.

“Well then, we will be leaving tomorrow. It was a pleasure,” he looked at you up and down “I’m sure you two want to catch up, seeing I barely saw you two together the last couple of days.”

The whole room started spinning but you clenched your teeth and smiled at him calmly, while trying your hardest not to vomit. Your brother and his men left the room, and after a look from Bjorn, Ubbe and Hvitserk followed him outside, leaving you and Ivar alone.

You slipped a little away from him, still trying to control yourself and took a deep breath,

“Are you alright?”

You closed your eyes for a moment, pursing your lips together before looking up into his red rimmed eyes,

“We should probably wait a little-“

“Are you alright though?” Ivar insisted and you nodded slowly,

“I am,” you swallowed thickly, “Are you?”

Ivar shrugged slightly, averting his eyes as if he didn’t know what to say, “Sure. Why would I not be?”

You nodded slowly, thinking about how long you would have to stay here for it to be convincing, and trying to guess whether you could stand up without falling, seeing that you still felt nauseous.

“Thank you, for…” he motioned at the door, “For coming. I- I didn’t think you would.”

“It’s a matter of Kattegat your grace. Not my feelings.”

Ivar pressed his lips together, nodding slowly.

“They’re leaving tomorrow then.”

“Should be easier, for both of us.”

“Why?”

“We’re pretending as if-“ you shrugged slightly, “It was easier before….everything. Back then I thought we could- you could…”

“What?”

“Back then I hoped that we could be in love,” you let out a bitter laugh, “It was easier to pretend back then.”

Ivar swallowed thickly, “But I-“ he hesitated, his eyes searching yours before he took a shaky breath, “You have no reason to worry, it should be easier, with me gone.”

“Gone?”

“I will leave for this raid to Dorestad as soon as I regain Freyja’s favor,” he licked his lips, “Bjorn says maybe you need your solitude.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t know how long it will last.” Ivar nodded,   “You will have a lot of time I’d say. Until we start… pretending again.”

“Perhaps we shouldn’t,” the words left your mouth before you could control yourself, making your nausea worse, and Ivar frowned,

“What?”

“We keep pretending, since I got here,” your voice was low, “No I’ve- I’ve been pretending for my whole life, and I dragged you into this, I made you pretend as if-“

“As if what?”

“As if we could ever be more than enemies,” you whispered, “As if we forgot the truth.”

Ivar blinked a couple of times,

“Enemies?” he asked silently, “That is what I am to you now? Your enemy?”

“Honestly?” You swallowed the bile climbing up to your throat, “I don’t know anymore.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, as if he didn’t know what to say.

“So perhaps we should not pretend anymore. I- it gets tiring, and very heartbreaking, and you’re right, I fall for my own deceptions, and I can’t anymore, I’m too-“ you shook your head, “I can’t anymore. I do wish you a good raid but when you come back, perhaps it’s better if we didn’t… Pretend. My parents did not. No married couple around me enjoyed each other’s company, and the people- the people got used to it. People of Kattegat would get used to it.”

“People of Kattegat would assume we’re getting a divorce.”

Your head snapped up, the fear filling you. Your heart was too heavy, and you felt way too sick, but-

What could you possibly say?

But of course, Ivar took your silence in the worst way possible. You could see the realization dawn on him and his eyes widened as he fell into a stunned silence, for the first time since you had met him, the fear apparent in his eyes.

As if he was as afraid as you were, when you had first came to Kattegat.

“You don’t mean that,” his voice was too silent, so silent that you barely heard him, and his gaze searched yours, his chest rising and falling faster than before, “Y/N. You don’t.”

This was too much. You couldn’t talk anymore, not without bursting into tears, your heart actually hurt and you-

You just couldn’t, anymore.

“I should go.”

“Y/N-” he started, but it was too late, because you stood up, then opened the door and walked out of the room without saying anything, your eyes burning with unshed tears.

                                           *

“A divorce?!” Bree asked, covering her mouth while Gala stared at you, “Y/N-“

“I said nothing. He- he jumped to conclusions, as usual-“

“But you didn’t say no?”

“I would’ve burst into tears if I’d stayed there any longer.”

“Y/N, you-“ Bree hesitated, “You did not say no.”

“No I did not.”

“So he actually thinks that-“ she was cut off when someone knocked on the door and Gala walked to open it.

“My prince.”

“May I?” Bjorn asked and you nodded as Bree shot him a small smile, then turned to look at you.

“Is everything alright out there?” you asked Bjorn and he shook his head.

“You’re considering divorce?”

“I-“ you heaved a deep sigh, “You talked to Ivar?”

“Barely, he’s not in a state to talk right now.”

You pulled your brows together, “What?”

“He ruined his room, yelled at everyone, threw whatever he grabbed at the wall until Ubbe dragged him outside and asked him what was wrong. He refuses to say anything else, other than that you are considering divorce.”

“This is no child’s play.” Bree insisted, “You cannot just let him think that if you’re not willing to go through with it.”

“Oh you’re not considering it?” Bjorn asked and you shrugged slightly,

“Y/N.”

“He just said people of Kattegat would assume we were getting a divorce if we- if we stopped pretending. I don’t have the energy to argue with him about it, I just… This sickness just doesn’t go away, and I don’t-“

“Y/N, you’d be ruined.”

“No she wouldn’t.”

“No I wouldn’t.” You and Bjorn talked at the same time and Bree looked between you,

“I’ve seen maybe two queens that went through divorce.”

“Maybe they would be ruined in your culture, not ours.”

“I’m not saying I’m considering it, I’m way too heartbroken to think anything of the sort, but-“ you heaved a sigh, “Freyja would protect me. And I’ve read our marriage agreement, my brother said one of his brothers added some details about divorce –I’m guessing Ubbe?”

“Probably. Torvi’s influence, I’m guessing.”

“Torvi’s influence?”

“She was very understanding during our…” Bjorn said and Bree raised her brows,

“You were married? To Torvi? The legendary shieldmaiden?”

“We were not meant to be, and she’s happy with Ubbe now.”

“But you- you got married before?”

Bjorn stole a look at her, then rubbed the back of his neck, “Three times.”

Bree gawked at him, “I beg your pardon?”

“Anyway Y/N, about your divorce-“

“I think my nonexistent divorce can wait- three times?” You asked him and Bjorn shifted his weight.

“My first wife, she- she became a shieldmaiden, but got wounded during battle and left. Torvi- she became a shieldmaiden around the time we were married, and then we both realized we were not meant to be. And Snaefrid was a warrior, she died during battle.”

Bree stared at him, “I wonder what it is about you that make women want to pick up a sword and join battles.”

“I wanted to tell you, I just… did not have the opportunity.”

“Oh Gods, my love is ruined and now I’m ruining yours.”

“Nothing is ruined my sweet, I’m just very… surprised, that’s all.”

“Bree-”

You waved your hands, “Anyways, let us speak less of Bjorn’s marriages which stayed in the past, does not affect the present now that you two met-“

“Y/N.”

“Um, if we go back to our discussion, nothing would happen to me.”

“Not only that, you also have the favor of Kattegat. They would never forgive Ivar.”

You frowned, “Ivar is their king.”

Bjorn scoffed, “Ivar is only interested in his warriors, raids and his battles, I don’t even know when the last time he talked to his people was. His actual people, not just his warriors.”

Bree thought for a moment, “And Inkeri’s mother did imply people of Kattegat love you.”

Bjorn nodded “So a king who doesn’t know or care about his people, or a queen who has the favor of Freyja and the people of Kattegat,” he made a hand motion as if he was balancing the possibilities, “That’d be a disaster for Ivar. His warriors would not go on a raid after Freyja sent that sign with Eitr, and if the word of him losing your affections got out? People would think Freyja would curse Kattegat.”

You shook your head, “It’s not my intention.”

“Well, I don’t even think he realizes that right now, he’s too heartbroken.”

“Well, you can go and tell him it’s not my-“

“No, Bjorn,” Bree reached out to touch his arm, “Do not say anything to him.”

“What?” You asked “Bree no, he has to know-“

“No, what he has to know is that there will be consequences the next time he thinks such disrespect can take place.”

Bjorn scoffed, “Anyone who knows Ivar would blame no one for wanting him to suffer, but… Are you sure?”

“You do not know what he said to her.”

He turned to her, “Do you know?”

“You’re not the only person who hasn’t had time for explanations, my prince.”

“What did he say to you?”

“Something so bad that he can actually believe I’d consider divorce.” You muttered, and shook your head, “I don’t- I do not wish to have that conversation- I do not wish to have any conversation with him, for the time being. I just want my peace, that’s all. He’s free to think whatever he wants to think, but that speech requires me to be well rested and ready, and I’m just… not. And there is no way I will ever cry in front of him again, so I- I just need my peace and solitude.”

“Understandable.”

“Very.”

Bjorn stole a look at Bree, “And have you- made your decision?���

And just like that, your stomach flipped. Bree could maybe leave the next morning and you weren’t ready for losing her again.

“Bree, you told me your loyalties lied with me,” you swallowed, “Please don’t go.”

Bree shut her eyes for a moment before she opened them again, heaving a sigh,

“Y/N…”

“May I borrow you for a moment?” Bjorn asked her and she looked from you to him,

“Um, I should stay with her-“

“No you shouldn’t,” You shook your head and smiled at her, “I meant it when I said I needed my solitude. Out, both of you.”

Bjorn offered her his hand and she took it, then stood up,

“Y/N…”

“You too Gala.”

“My queen-“

"Go,” you winked at her, “And for once, stop worrying about me, all of you. I shall have a peaceful night with myself, my thoughts and my falcon.”

“I could stay-“

“No, go with Bjorn.”

“My queen-“

“Gala, go find someone to dance with, there’s still music coming from the great hall.”

“But-“

“It makes no sense all of us are miserable, at least some of us should have a nice night.”

“Y/N!”

“I’m joking, go!” you pushed her towards the door and Bjorn smiled at you,

“If you fail to convince her Bjorn, I’m sending Eitr after you. No matter how many bears you killed.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“And have fun, Gala,” you pushed the blonde girl gently “I’ll see all of you tomorrow morning.”

With that, you closed the door and bolted it shut. Eitr cooed from her place, then flew to you as you climbed to the bed, and she landed on the furs, looking at you.

“Please do not tell me you worry about me as well.” You mumbled, reaching out to touch her feathers, and she came closer to you, “I’m just heartbroken.”

Eitr cooed,

“And sick.”

She tilted her head,

“And angry.”

Eitr flapped her wings, still staring at you and you heaved a sigh.

“Yeah, I see your point.”

                                           *

You couldn’t sleep until the next morning, and you were sure neither could Ivar. Even if he didn’t come to your doorstep again, you saw him in the great hall when you went there to say goodbye to your brother, you could basically feel his misery, just like your own.

What would actually happen if you got divorced?

You had read the marriage agreement. You would be safe, you would have your own land, own gold, but-

Away from Ivar.

Even if you weren’t ready to have a conversation with him, you were surely not ready to end it.

For good.

Were you?

“Have you seen Bree?” your brother asked you and you swallowed, then shook your head,

“Wasn’t she with you the whole night?” he asked and your head shot up.

“She was, but she left in the morning.” You lied easily and he huffed out, then walked to talk with Ivar who was eyeing you, as Lord Thorpe stayed away from you, eyeing Eitr who was circling the hall and you were pulled out of your thoughts when someone touched the small of your back.

Bree.

“Morning, have you-“

“Do you want me to stay?”

You pulled your brows together, “What?”

“Forget Bjorn, forget Edgard. Do you want me to stay?”

You nodded fervently, “Will you?”

“I told you my loyalties lied with you,” Bree said through her teeth, “It’s about time I showed it.”

You could feel the tears filling your eyes and you pulled her into a tight hug, making her let out a nervous giggle.

“He will not take it well.”

“He will have to live with his displeasure.”

“Bree, my love.” Your brother approached you two as Bjorn entered the hall, and Bree pulled back “Are you ready?”

Bree gulped, and took a deep breath,

“I’m staying, your grace.”

Even the nausea couldn’t stop the smile pulling at your lips as Bjorn’s jaw dropped, looking between them. Ivar pulled his brows together, and Edgard’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m staying. With my queen.”

“You’re being a fool right now, follow me outside.”

“I shall not.”

“Bree,” Edgard spoke through his teeth, “It’s an order.”

“You’re no longer my king, you do not get to demand me.”

Edgard took a step closer but both you and Bjorn reacted at the same time, he drew out his sword and you pushed Bree behind you to stand between her and Edgard, and raised your arm, Eitr landing on your arm in a second.

“Go on, try something.” You dared him, looking him in the eye, “Anything. Please do, I have wanted to hurt someone for days now. Give me an excuse.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Ivar grabbing his axe and taking a step closer to you just in case, but Edgard didn’t move an inch, he just glared at you.

“You,” he said, gritting his teeth, “This is your doing.”

“Consider this a start, Edgard.”

“Start of what?”

“Start of everything I will take from you,” you took a step closer to him, “And when, Edgard, when I make sure that you have nothing left, then you will die. Because I will it so, nothing more.”

Edgard scoffed, “You’re not as powerful as you think you are, sister.”

“Oh you have no idea how powerful I am,” you smiled at him, “But you will learn. Just before you die.”

Edgard eyed you up and down, and his glances went to Bree who was still standing behind you, but then he looked like he had changed his mind, because he turned around and stormed out of the hall, with his men following him. There were some cheering from the people and some snickering, and Eitr flew from your arm as you felt a movement behind you. Bree let out a squeak as Bjorn threw her over his shoulder, making her laugh and exclaim how inappropriate it was while Ubbe covered your eyes, saying something about them tainting you, making you giggle and push away his hand.

Overall, everyone looked happy.

Everyone but Ivar.

Your smile faded instantly when your eyes met his, and he made his way to you while Ubbe walked away, dragging Hvitserk with him.

“Your grace.” You greeted him and he swallowed thickly, licking his lips, almost-

Nervous?

“Tell me you’re not considering that,” his voice was hoarse, as if he was in pain like you were, “Y/N… Please. Please tell me you’re not.”

And just like that, tears filled your eyes.

This was getting ridiculous. You couldn’t cry in front of Ivar, much less in front of the crowd filling the hall. And he seemed to understand it, because he reached out to pull you closer to him, letting you sniffle and bury your face to his shirt. His hand slipped from your hair to your back and he pressed you closer to his chest, burying his nose into your hair.

And you just stood like that for a moment, relishing in each other, as if everything was what it used to be.

It took you almost a minute to pull yourself together, and you took a deep breath, then pulled back and wiped your eyes before glaring up at him,

“I said I don’t wish to pretend anymore,” You managed to say, trying to ignore the sob climbing up to your throat, then turned around and left the hall without looking back, leaving him there alone.

Special thanks to: @nympha-door-a @theskytraveler @iblogabout-stuff @mamaraptor @vikrone @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @asongofmarvelanddc @not–even-a-real–fan @alicedopey @thorohdamnson @captstefanbrandt @flowers-in-your-hayr @marauderskeeper @badbitsh13 @superwolfchild-fan @mblaqgi @thescarsweleave @marvelsvalhalla @natalielbeauty @pandalandalopalis@alyssiamarierenee @bloodyivar  , @eleanorsparkz    @illumminated @itsjoshebelbitch @vikingalexthedane @hangirl93 @mersers-moonypadfoot-prongs @skadithegoddess   @geekandbooknerd @katalina-from-hellbound @too-stressed-to-live@supercarricat @sky-daybreak @athroatfullofglass @blushingskywalker @little-froggy @girlwhoisfearless @aikeji @part-time-patronus @actuallyazriel @rhabakoli  and lovely anons! You are amazing! <3

[imaginesmai]

Peter Parker - Tangled AU (Preview)

Here are my new series! Thankfully, they are already finished, so as soon as I start posting them they will have a fixed schedule ❤ If you want to be tagged, please let me know!

I know I asked who you wanted them to be about, and most of you said Tony... but I had an idea about Peter, and it just fits right with the story. Don’t worry, I’m already thinking about one with Tony! 

-

“You arrived a few months late, my friend”

There was a slight sad tone on his voice, but he didn’t get to say much more before you had clobbered him in the back of the head with the pan. The hit wasn’t hard, just enough to have him fall to the ground, unconscious.

You stared at him for a second. For the first time, you were looking at someone other than your mother. Pascal scampered up your back and then rested on your shoulder, the little chameleon blinking confused. You ignored your friend and took a tentative step towards the stranger, curious; Pascal only shuffled backward.

The man, or boy, had chestnut hair, full of messy curls, and a clean jaw that didn’t seem like the ruthless beards of the vikings you were waiting. His long eyelashes rested peacefully in a face that seemed full of worries, although he could be sleeping. Lips parted and breathing, the stranger was beautiful.

-

“So” Peter started, quickly searching for his next words. “What you did back there… guess you saved me. Didn’t think you could, honestly.”

You grinned so wide, it looked though it might hurt.

“I know! If only mother were here, she would finally see how much I can handle myself”

Peter felt that, if he had met you in other circumstances, things would be different.

“Right, so, your mother. What’s her deal?”

“We shouldn’t talk about her” you chuckled, but it was deprived of humour.

“No?”

“Definitely not. She’s not exactly a light topic of conversation”

“Okay, so your mother is out of topic. I know I shouldn’t bring up the hair, either” Peter smiled softly at you, as if he wanted to prove he meant no harm. “I’m also kind too scared to talk about the… animal”

-

“I’m sorry, Y/N” he said, not bothering to keep scrapping. “If I knew this was where we would end… I never would have agreed to drag you into this”

You supressed another sob, and rubbed your head against his shoulder. Pascal was sitting sadly against your shoulder, looking at his owner with wide eyes. Peter felt bad for the chameleon. The water was at your thighs then.

“Y/N”

No response.

“Darling, listen to –“

“No!” you sobbed, and broke the embrace, trying to dry your tears. “This – this is my fault. I should have listened to her! If I didn’t disobey – I’m, I’m sorry, Peter”

Water up to your waists

-

He was already looking at you with a half-smile, and two lanterns of his own. The boy moved so that you could also fit on his side of the boat, and you sat beside him. Your shoulders brushed and his warmth evolved you.

“For you” Peter said softly, and gave you one. It had beautiful and elaborated purple draws, only matching the beauty of the moment and Peter turned his head and talked close to you. “Sometimes – you know, uh, sometimes you h-have to let go. Freedom is about letting go, Y/N”

Everything that had been built for years, locked on the tower and dreaming of the lanterns, broke up that night. Maybe it was because of his words, because of the encouragement and the possibility of taking your on decision of them. Your fingers un-curled around the bottom of the lantern when Peter leaned forward, tilting his head so that your noses didn’t touch, but your lips did.

Peter Parker taglist:

@delicately-important-trash​

@lexxxistrips​

Tangled taglist:

@ohmygoditsanthonyedwardstark​

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

[coneygoil]

The Home We Built Together, part 25

Two young Vikings. An arranged marriage. Hiccup always wanted to win the girl of his dreams, but not like this. Now he and Astrid must learn to live together and maybe one day, learn to love…

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9| Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24

Writer’s note:  This chapter gave me such fits! I'm still not satisfied with some of it. I already have the next chapter planned out, and just want to move on. I've worked on it so much I'm tired XD Hope yall enjoy it!

Special thanks to my reader tags! All of yall’s lovely comments get me through the roughest patches of writing! <3 

He’d promised to her a talk. He had yet to fulfill that promise.

It wasn’t a pleasant subject, and Hiccup wished it could be wiped from both their memories. He couldn’t forget, and he doubted Astrid would as well. He knew she wouldn’t. He’d catch the side glares she shot his way. The evidence of a beginning maelstrom flashed behind her eyes at his procrastination.

His timidness had returned. The embarrassment of the awkward experience played out in his head stilling his hand every time he wished to reach for her. Did she think less of him for not being able to pleasure her in that way? Hiccup stressed over the assumed answer. They’d come miles and boundaries far from their wedding night when Astrid chose to slice a dagger’s blade across her ankle than consummate their marriage. But now, he’d taken a giant step backwards in just one misbegotten moment.

On the third evening since the incident, they were headed to the cove to take Toothless flying. Astrid had jogged ahead leaving Hiccup to meander along the trail alone. He couldn’t wait to get in the air. To soar through clouds and reach for the sun and forget the weight that had dragged on his shoulders for the last few days.

His boots had barely hit the grassy cove floor when Hiccup found himself dangling above said floor.

“Toothless!” Hiccup yelped. The Night Fury carried him deeper into the cove. “What’s gotten into you, bud?”

Up ahead Hiccup spotted Astrid. Her arms folded over her chest and her steely gaze narrowed upon him. Uh oh. He was in trouble.

“Thank you, Toothless,” Astrid said, and gave a gestured command.

Toothless unceremoniously dropped him in front of his wife. Hiccup’s legs didn’t catch, and he landed on his bottom. He shot a sharp glance over his shoulder at his dragon, who was looking quite amused.

“Traitorous reptile,” he grumbled, getting to his feet and face to face with his wife. “Astrid, what’s this about?”

“I know you didn’t wet your pants.”

“Oh. You figured it out, huh?” All the exasperation deflated out of him. He turned to hide the burn on his face and threw his arms up then slapped them down to his sides. “But why wouldn’t you? You’re Astrid!”

He didn’t catch the slight falter of Astrid’s features before she fortified herself again.

“Some husband I am. I can’t hold it in long enough to pleasure my wife.” The words sounded strange on his tongue, even after the last few months of marriage. Sometimes it was hard to conceive that he was still a boy in a very grown up world, playing a very grown up part.

Astrid dropped her arms, softening the glower she’d been projecting on him. “Hiccup, don’t beat yourself up over it. Just because it happened this time, doesn’t mean it will next time.” She sighed. “It’s kind of my fault anyway. I caught you off guard and forced you into it.”

He didn’t want her to take the blame. Astrid’s strength was immeasurable, but as the leader of their household, Hiccup felt he needed to take responsibility. “No, Astrid. It’s not your fault. You wanted what any wife would want, and I was the one who ruined it.”

Images of her dressed in the transparent gown flooded his mind’s eyes. The perfect picture of beauty. “You were beautiful in that gown. gods, you were stunning! I still think I’m in some crazy dream that you of all people want me and would allow me to touch you. And—”

“Hiccup?”

“Hmm?”

“I get it, babe.”

“Sorry.” He’d gush over her a thousand years if he was granted that much time. “I want you, Astrid. I really, really want you. But when it happens, I want it to happen naturally. The two of us, in the moment…”

“I understand. I want it to happen that way too. I got a little carried away.” Her palm left scorch marks through his shirt where she rested it on his chest. “I guess we have some ways to go. That means more of this.” She dipped in for a firm kiss that lingered upon his lips. A promise of things hoped for, of moments yet to come that would lead them to the passion they both longed to experience one day.

Hiccup found his fingers inching around her waist and wondered how he didn’t notice he had reached for her. This was what he was speaking of. The naturalness of gravitating to one another. The little gestures of intimacy that would occur without thought.

It was in that moment, Astrid being a breath away and her palm searing into his chest, that the love for her welled up inside him. They’d come so far, opened themselves to learning about each other and from each other.

“Astrid, are you happy? With what we are? With what we have?” Hiccup had wondered upon these questions for weeks and the courage was finally there to accept whatever answer was given.

The corners of her mouth lifted into a soft return. An elegant eyebrow arced into her bangs. “This isn’t where I pictured myself. In a marriage faker than Gobbler’s leg. With someone I tried to not give a second’s thought about most of my life.”

Hiccup’s expectancy began to crumble with every word, but that wasn’t the end of her answer.

She gave him a shake then cupped his cheeks. “You surprised me, Hiccup. I wouldn’t trade what we have for any other life. At times, it’s scary and unpredictable, but I’ve never been this happy in my life. You did that.”

Hiccup was suddenly caught in a memory. I did this – he’d murmured as he gazed at Toothless’ bound and mangled body not that long ago. The accusation toward himself had filled him with crushing guilt. But this new, hopeful statement – you did that – caused a flood of joy to well up inside him.

He’d done something right. He’d brought happiness to the girl his heart flipped over the moon for.

Hiccup leaned forward, focused on those oh-so-tempting lips, but was left with an empty space filled with laughter. He flicked a glare Astrid’s way. A smile spread across her face as she rung with laughter once more.

“You’ll have to catch me for another one,” she playfully taunted.

As she awaited the chase, time slowed to nearly a standstill. Hiccup wanted to record every tiny detail. The joyful smile unmarred by hardship and war. The blue sparkle in the eyes that gleam only for me. Nothing could spoil this snippet of life Hiccup vowed to record in his memory forever.

And then, he launched after her. Around the cove they dashed, dodging rocks and slipping on mossy patches. Astrid was fast and her endurance could not be matched. Hiccup grazed her twice, almost trapping her in the corners of the cove. Astrid eluded him both times. Hopping up on a rock, she planted her fist onto her hips triumphantly.

Hiccup had a plan. The silent communication him and Toothless had practiced was paying off. Astrid cried in surprise as she was lifted in the air, dangling from the Night Fury’s mouth. She kicked out at Hiccup as he approached.

“Not fair, Hiccup!”

“Payback for earlier.”

Astrid’s fists clinched, but she relented, “Fine.”

He nodded his head for Toothless to let her down. Astrid’s nose wrinkled at the dragon slobber on her neck and swiped what she could away. Hiccup wasn’t giving up until he’d collected the spoils from the chase. He stepped up to her expectantly, eyebrows raised. A little growl escaped Astrid’s throat, but she leaned in to press her lips to his. Her hand snaked behind his neck, teasing his hairline as she also teased his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue. Hiccup was so focused on his prize that he didn’t noticed the cold, slimy wetness of Toothless’ slobber on the back of his neck until Astrid pulled away, grinning like a dragon sitting atop its hoard.

“Consolation prize.”

Her laughter echoed through the cove.

***

He couldn’t get that image out of his head. The love that swelled in him at that moment as Astrid bounced off, her smiling shining back at him like the golden rays of sun. He had to capture it.

Hiccup’s charcoal worked along the brown parchment, scratching out thick lines, forming life. He retraced the memory from earlier that day. The way her hair fluttered around her face. The quirk of her mouth. He wished he could capture the playful gleam in her eyes. Hiccup sat back in his chair, satisfied for the most part with his finished piece.

A soft weight rested on his shoulders. “What? No stick figure this time?”

Hiccup shakes his head. “You deserve to be more than a stick figure. I’m the real-life stick figure.”

Astrid leaned over his shoulder, skimming a fingertip along the empty space of parchment so not to smudge the charcoal. A thoughtful quirk of her lips played on her face. She straightened, and Hiccup was caught off guard as the chair he currently resided in was yanked backwards, the legs scraping along wooden planks.

He watched Astrid curiously as she stepped around the chair. His eyebrows jumped into his bangs at her plopping down in his lap. Her right arm slithered around his neck and draped over his shoulder. Her other arm ran along his collarbones, connecting with its match.

The nightgown that was currently covering her was her usual fare, not the sensual number that she adorned a few evenings prior. This gown is safe, not accentuating her youthful curves…among other things. The softness of her liberated breast press to his side, the sensation cozy instead of lust inspiring. Hiccup is thankful for that. Not every little touch should ignite flames. He must learn to handle the flames before he catches on fire again.

Hiccup wound his arm along her waist, another place on her that wasn’t awkward anymore. But his other hand hung down toward the floor, unsure of where to settle. Astrid couldn’t make all the decisions for them. He had to trust in her honesty and patience with their relationship. If he did something wrong or disappointing, she’d tell him.

Hesitantly, he lifted his dangling arm. Like a benevolent breath before a prayer, Hiccup rested a hand upon her knee. Testing the waters, he grazed his knuckles along her lower thigh, leaving a thick invisible line in his wake.

He crept ever-so-close to the pinnacle of her leg. This was uncharted territory, a place on Astrid’s body he’d never traversed. Her thigh is muscular, as expected, and tight as he gave her a gentle squeeze through the gown’s material. Astrid’s fingers twirl at the ends of his hair, distracting him from his explorations.

How did his life become a fantasy that played out while he had stirred in bed at midnight? How did a 15-year-old disaster become blessed with such luck? A twinge of fear struck Hiccup’s core suddenly. Him and Astrid were risking everything for their new cause.

His chest rose and fell in deep breathes. What if their plan to train dragons failed? What if Berk didn’t listen? What if Toothless was discovered and lost forever? There’d be horrible, heartbreaking consequences, not only for the dragons but for him and Astrid and the home they had built together.

“Hiccup,” he heard Astrid call from what felt like a distance. Warmth cupped his cheek. “Hiccup?”

“Hm?” Hiccup turned within the wall of her palm. How could the hands of a fierce shieldmaiden be this gentle…this loving? Not much different than a dragon, he supposed.

Astrid gave a tiny, strained chuckle. “You look like you were lost at sea.”

He met her gaze. The lantern was running low, casting long shadows in the room. “I’m fine.”

Astrid shifts a little in his lap, and Hiccup is thankful she’s much lighter without her daily gear. She peppered a few kisses along his cheekbone, the contact seeping through his skin and relaxing his distracted mind.

Hugging her close, Hiccup shut his eyes and tried to record every tiny detail of her against him. Tonight, he would live for this. Any worries of tomorrow would have to wait.

tags: @martabm90​ @chiefhiccstrid @drchee5e @celtictreemuffin @hey-its-laura-again @celtictreemuffin 

[nitannichionne]

If He Was YOUR Fan (Henry Cavill Fan Fic) - Chapter 7: Working It Out

You awaken for the first day of work at dawn. You did not get a lot of sleep feeling so excited and anxious at once. You find out that Archer and his brother go work out at a nearby gym, and asked to tag along the night before. Naturally, you must find a plus one.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Stella says, sliding into the back seat of Archer’s four door convertible Cooper.

“Ah, brought a friend, I see.” Archer smiles widely. “Hey, Stella.”

“Hey, Archer,” Stella greets. “Hi, Stuart.”

You just notice the slight breathlessness of her tone. She’s into Stuart!

“Hey.” He smiles widely, his dark eyes seeming to sparkle.

The drive wasn’t long. You all slide out and go to the gym, showing your studio IDs to get in without fuss or muss.

“Oh, there he is!” Stella squeals, tugging on your arm.

Archer and Stuart look over in the direction Stella does. Archer rolls his eyes. “Dear God. It is him.”

“Let’s go—” Stuart shrugs.

“Oh, uh—” Stella is wide-eyed and smiles the same way she heads to the treadmills. “Sure.”

“You coming?” Archer asks.

“No, I have a workout,” you explain. You don’t tell them that you made sure you were in your best condition traveling Europe alone before you left home. “I’m hitting the elliptical.”

“Seriously?” Stella asks

“I’ll be—” you point at the row of them. “right over there.” You smile and move on. After a few stretches, you get on the elliptical and set it for ten minutes. You put in your earbuds and simply go for it. You listen to your workout faves-“Goa,” and “Extreme Ways” from the Bourne Supremacy” soundtrack. Passing the ten minute mark, you slow down to a stop just as the last song ends. You turn and—

“Oh!” you gasp, almost turning and stepping right into Henry.

“Good morning.” He says calmly, catching your by your forearms to help you balance.

You realize you have been this close-no, more than this close—to him before. “Wow, sorry!”

“It’s alright,” Henry chuckles lightheartedly. “You nearly knocked me down though.”

You giggle nervously, wondering if anyone knows how you’re feeling inside. “Well, you know us little pieces of leather-well put together but stronger than we look.”

“And soft to the touch?” he says so softly only you hear it. You feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. “So you made it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod with a chuckle.

“And found the gym,” he smiles. “Most assistants don’t make it here unless it’s the weekend.”

“I thought I’d get it in before the day starts,” You shrug. “I don’t know if I’ll be here everyday, but it’s nice to know it’s here.”

“Well—” his gaze averts. “I’ll see you around then.”

“Yeah--” you smile, and for a few seconds, you are both staring at each other.

Suddenly, Archer calls you. “Hey, you done over there?”

Henry’s eyebrow raises and you do a slight shake of your head. “What?!”

“Whatcha doing next?” Archer asks. “Maybe I’ll join you!”

Henry’s gaze hardens and you feel uneasy. “See you around.”

“Hey!” Stella smiles, running over, with Stuart in pursuit.

“Oh, Henry, this is my friend Stella from catering, and this is Archer and Stuart from set design.”

Henry nods and watches you glance at Stella and Stuart standing close together.

“Ah,” a smile tugs at his lips. “Nice to see you all.”

“What’s next?” Archer asks. “Let’s do what you do.”

“You sure?” you ask.

“We’ll just…follow you.” Archer’s last two words hold suggestion and you blink at him, then up at Henry, who is now showing total disapproval.

“Uh, okay—” you shrug, trying to casual. “Care to join us?” You know the answer to that.

He shakes his head. “Total workout planned out,” he sighs. “I’ll definitely take a raincheck though.”

Archer frowns, and Henry’s eyes almost smolder as he looks into yours. “See you around.”

“Yeah,” you breathe.

“Yeah,” Archer clearly doesn’t like it, but he doesn’t know does he, you tell yourself. Another to come clean to, you cringe inwardly. “Well?”

“Well, wha-“ You stop. Henry has gone back to his weights, and you need to clear your head. That’s what you came for, isn’t it? “Come on.” You go to the rower and sit on a rower. You hit play but adjust the volume, “Hanging Tree Remix” playing. You glance at the mirrors and sense Henry’s mood-it’s isn’t good, and he’s thinking-what, you don’t know.

You take a deep breath and hit the floor. “Plank workout.” You play “Yellow Flicker Beat” and then “Breath of Life,” concentrating on it though you see him slow and watch a few times. He leaves with a parting glare and you try to ignore it. You finally hit weights, do a few a combination exercise sets to songs like “24” and “cool down to “You Gotta Be.”

“Okay, guys that’s it. Thirty minutes, let’s go!” You look around, feeling relieved and invigorated, but now you wonder what will happen next. He seemed displeased. He couldn’t--he wouldn’t think you and Archer were starting something—would he?

You shower and change for work, and coffee does it’s magic as you grab a cup. Dressed in cargos, a t-shirt and vest, you tie your hair up into a ponytail and don a cadet cap.

“So who are you-Kim Possible or Lara Croft?” Stella jokes.

“Shut up,” you joke back. “Look at you.”

“Yeah we got polos,” Stella shrugs, tapping the name of the catering company embroidered on it. “We’re walking billboards.”

“How many did you get?”

“Three.”

“Ew.”

“Yeah, good thing we have a washer at the house.”

“Tell me about it.”

Your morning flies by and you seem to do well. Between your backpack and leg pack, you were able to do quite a bit without having to run around. Soon the assistants are giving you more to do, and you wonder if this is how it is. You meet up with Stella for lunch, opting for a late one since she serves cast and crew.

“Okay, gotta tell you something!” she half squeals, half whispers. She pulls you by your hand and takes you behind the catering trailer.

“What?” you ask. You dump your salad into a huge cup, pour dressing on it and shake it. You both sit down on the back steps and leaning together. “It’s the first day, don’t gossip.”

“Gracie got shut down.”

“What?”

“Gracie asked Henry what he was doing tonight, and he said he was tired.”

Your heart deflates but you manage to remain aloof. “So?”

“Then she suggests they get together this week, catch up on old times?”

“And he said—”

“He said he is going to be busy!”

You lean in closer. “Then what?”

“She tells him he always seemed to find time and he says ‘Unless my schedule is full.’” Stella does her best British impression as she quotes Henry. “Her eyes got big and she looked around. ‘Who?’ she asked and Henry shook his head and walked off!”

Your heart starts to race. Are you the “Who?”

The afternoon is short since days of shooting start at dawn or a short time after. After getting to do lists for the next day, you are ready to go home, but decide to get a jump on things and start before you go.

“Aw.”

You sigh, recognizing Hannah’s voice, but decide not to look up at her as you input things into your tablet and schedule alarms to go off on your watch. “May I help you?”

“Gracie is not happy.”

“Oh.” You keep tapping and dragging things about.

Hannah crouches down in front of you and you look up at her. “She thinks Henry has someone here on set. Happen to know who it is?”

You lock eyes with her and take a breath. “Gossiping and mischief will get you fired. I thought you needed the money, Hannah.”

“I told her I thought it was you, and she laughed!”

You swallow hard, feeling your jaw clench.

“She looked at you and didn’t regard you as competition,” Hannah smiled maliciously. “We will find out.”

You scoff and shake your head. “Wow, so you two have time for this?”

“Two heads are better than one.”

“Ah, that is what they say,” you tilt your head to the side. “but it depends on which two heads.”

Hannah straightens. “I know you think you have a chance because you met him once, but you need to back off. He’s just being nice to you.”

You go back to your work on your tablet. “Thanks, I’ll take that under advisement.”

Hannah turns on her heel and leaves. You finish your work and shake your head. “Great,” you exhale heavily. “Two of them.”

“Two of what?”

You look up to see Henry. “God, you have got to stop sneaking up on me like that.”

He grins and offers his hand. You take it and he pulls you up effortlessly. “How was your first day?”

“Not bad,” you wrinkle your nose.

“How about you come to my place?” he asks. “I’ll get you home before sunrise, I swear it.”

You grin up at him. “Let’s try before the stroke of midnight.”

“How about curfew?”

“Deal!”

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