#I mean a true honest-to-god genuine smile. Now THAT would be a sight for the history books. Red deserves to smile too.

[possiblyfunny]

Hey, look guys, more art-

HOPE.

I’ve been wanting to draw him like this ever since I first saw him smile, but my will to draw eluded me until now! This started off as a doodle, so, please excuse the messiness. I drew this to de-stress.

“Fire” Red belongs to @creatively-cosmic. They have a blog called @themissingnumbers, which is really good! Go check it out if you want to see more.

[Sketch + Colored Version below the cut!]

[your-divine-ribs]

The Devil Next Door Part 9

Words: 2.5k

The Devil Next Door Masterlist Main Masterlist

❤️‍🔥 Y/N’s POV ❤️‍🔥

It's a bad idea. You know it is. But still you find yourself agreeing. Just fifteen minutes ago you were fuming with Van, incensed that he was likely sneaking around outside like some kind of creep spying on you and Tom. Now you're actually inviting him to stay, smiling sweetly at him as he implores you to forget about all the past animosity that's built up between the two of you and 'try again'.

You're not normally a soft touch and you can't quite believe how quickly Van's managed to charm you tonight. You're still suspicious about his excuses but for some reason all that annoyance and mistrust seems to be fading away, replaced by a curious excitement that's been steadily escalating ever since you took your seat opposite him in the kitchen to tend to his injury. Maybe it was the alluring warmth in that cheeky smile of his or the piercing depth of his cool blue eyes as his steady gaze had met yours, but your resolve at staying mad at him had dissipated faster than a cloud of smoke on a breezy day.

You'd even caught him blushing at one point for god's sake! That had been quite a sight to behold. You didn't think he was capable of showing that hint of vulnerability with the usual cocky way he strutted about like he was King Shit. Was it actually possible that Van McCann had a soft and sensitive side to him? One carefully hidden away behind that cool rockstar facade?

Of course you knew it was crazy to start exploring that possibility, especially when things were going so well with Tom and you'd both admitted that you liked each other as more than just friends. Tom was caring and dependable, thoughtful and sweet, not to mention drop-dead gorgeous... in fact he was everything that you needed in a man. But was he everything that you wanted?

That was what was really bothering you if you were being completely honest with yourself. The longer that you sat here on the sofa next to Van, so close that each time he fidgeted in his seat his thigh brushed up warm and tempting against yours, the harder it was getting to keep any thoughts of Tom in your head at all.

"So... what do you wanna watch then?" You ask eventually. You've already flicked through the whole Sky planner and you've not even been taking in anything that's on the screen.

You'd been relieved when Van had agreed to your suggestion that you should move into the living room to watch some TV whilst you waited for Bondy to arrive home. You were eager to move away from the proximity that you two had shared in the kitchen, but you hadn't been banking on Van sitting quite so close. You wondered whether he'd ever heard of the concept of personal space at all the way he sat with his legs splayed wide, man-spreading in such a way that you were hemmed in against the arm of the chair.

"Don't suppose you'd fancy watching the match highlights would ya? United played Spurs this afternoon. Thrashed 'em apparently."

You don't even have to answer, Van immediately chuckles as he sees your face scrunch in distaste. "Not a footy fan then I guess?"

"I'd rather dip my eyeballs in acid than watch football," you say dryly, logging into Netflix and bringing up the recommendations menu, starting to scroll through.

"Bit dramatic," he grins. "I suppose you're into chick-flicks or some sappy shit like that, eh?"

You turn to face him then, bristling slightly. Seems like it doesn't take long for the real Van to start showing his true colours, but you suppose he's only teasing. "Stereotype much?" You challenge him.

He looks puzzled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well I'm a girl so I'm obviously going to like rom-coms and Bridget Jones's Diary, right?"

"It's a class film that is!" Van looks genuinely taken aback and you can't help but grin.

"I didn't say it wasn't... and I do actually like rom-coms, but I like loads of other stuff too. Drama, action, thrillers, horror... I really love horror actually. The more frightening the better."

"You like scary stuff then do ya?" He reaches over and plucks the remote control out of your hand, turning his attention back to the screen. "Well you're in luck as it's Halloween tomorrow so there's loads to choose from." He starts flicking through, pausing at a film you'd not heard of before. "Was gonna watch this the other night... Bondy's been banging on about it. It's an old film but it's supposed to be well scary. Nearly got banned when it first came out."

The preview starts to play and you watch on as a scantily-clad woman being chased by a masked man with a vicious looking carving knife lets out a blood-curdling scream. You frown. "Looks a bit tacky to me."

"Nah, it's a proper classic slasher movie this is," Van says and you glance at him, watching his eyes widening as the actress's skimpy top gets ripped from her body during the chase, revealing the largest pair of fake boobs you've ever seen.

"Now I know why you really wanna watch this one!" You giggle, shaking your head.

"It's not all tits I swear!" Van cries, fumbling with the remote to clear the screen, managing to pause it several times instead, each freeze-frame capturing an even clearer shot of the victim's naked chest. "Ah shit!" He curses.

"Oh give it here!" You snort through your laughter, snatching the remote back and pressing play, the opening credits appearing. "Now are you sure you wanna watch this? The guy who's squeamish about a drop of blood wanting to watch a gory slasher film?"

"Course I do, it's only a film innit?" He shifts forward in his seat to take off his jacket, slouching down even further to get comfortable. "It's you I'm worried about. Not sure if it'll freak you out too much. It's supposed to be really bad."

You smile across at him. "Gory stuff doesn't faze me. I'm a nurse working in A and E, remember? I see blood and guts every day... for real."

He returns your smile, wide with a hint of mischievousness that makes your heart race. "Yeah well... we'll see. Don't forget you can snuggle up a bit closer if ya get too frightened. I'll look after ya."

You roll your eyes and giggle, turning your head back to the screen.

❤️‍🔥 Van’s POV ❤️‍🔥

Things are looking up. Y/N seems to have let me off the hook for my appalling behaviour earlier, and in fact I think she's forgotten all about my little white lie. I try to ignore the fact that my front door key is practically burning a hole in the pocket of my jacket as I slip out of it and place it on the sofa next to me.

No harm's really being done after all. Tom gets plenty of opportunity to spend time with Y/N at work, so the fact that I've now got her all to myself for a while seems fair play, even if I did orchestrate it to happen this way. If she just happens to succumb to my charm and we have a moment on the sofa whilst we're watching this film, then so be it. Sometimes you have to play a bit dirty to get what you want, use sneaky tactics to even the playing field. That's just the way life goes. I'm not gonna start feeling guilty about it.

"Oh my god... I thought you said this was a classic? The acting's so wooden! And could the female cast wear any less clothes?"

She's laughing at the screen despite her complaints and I join in too before stealing a glance at her.

"That's probably why Bondy was so keen on watching it!"

The room's dark and her face is all lit up by the glow of the screen. She really does have a gorgeous smile and the sweet sound of her laughter is like music to my ears. I think I could listen to that sound for the rest of my life and never get sick of it.

Fuck... what is this girl doing to me? I'm turning soft.

I try to shift my full focus back to the screen but it's impossible. Before we'd settled down in front of the tele, Y/N had excused herself upstairs to get dressed, saying she'd never get the blood from my cut out of her t-shirt if she didn't soak it straight away. She'd emerged five minutes later, apologising for wearing her pyjamas with a shy smile plastered all over her face and I'd been trying to act like I wasn't in any way affected by her tiny little shorts and cami top combo ever since. That was easier said that done. I couldn't resist snatching glances in her direction every now and again, admiring her sumptuous curves and the way her exposed skin looked unbelievably soft in the gentle glow from the TV. I was well and truly captivated.

"Don't run upstairs!" She suddenly shouts at the screen, prompting me to wrench my attention back once again. "Ughh... they're breaking every horror movie rule in the book in this film. They're so dumb! They all deserve to die!"

"That's the spirit!" I chuckle, flinching as the killer plunges his knife straight through the victim's neck, copious amounts of arterial blood spewing out and decorating the walls. "Fuck me... that's a lot of blood." I feel my gut clenching, my eyes instinctively squeezing shut to block out the gory sight.

"Are you even watching? You've got your eyes closed!"

"They're not! I've just... err... I've just got something in my eye!" I blurt, rubbing my eye for show, ignoring the teasing smile that she's wearing. I turn to stare at the screen, trying to maintain a neutral expression as the killer starts hacking away at the poor girl's neck. It's fucking horrific and it's taking me all my restraint not to pick up a cushion from the sofa beside me and hide behind it. "Christ sake... this is sick! Who dreams up this kinda shit anyway?"

"It's just a film, remember?" She smirks at me.

❤️‍🔥 Y/N’s POV ❤️‍🔥

Van's scared. You know that he is. The amount of times he's flinched and cursed under his breath you're finding it increasingly difficult to hold back the snigger that's bubbling it's way up your throat. Granted the film is extremely graphic, but you're practically immune to this kind of thing. The amount of road traffic accident victims you deal with on a daily basis at work are where the real horrors lie, not some overpaid actors hamming it up on screen, writhing around in their dramatic death throes.

"Sure you don't wanna switch it off?" You ask as a girl on screen gets brutally decapitated and you see Van's hands curl into claws where they're resting on his thighs.

"Nah... nah... I'm all good!" He replies, his voice tight. "Reckon we're getting to the end anyway... Jesus!" His face twists in horror as the psychotic killer starts licking the blood clean off his hands.

"You should see your face!"

You bite back a laugh, half tempted to reach out to place a reassuring hand on top of his, but you really don't want him getting the wrong idea. As much as you find him attractive, he's definitely not boyfriend material and you don't want to encourage him. You simply don't like him in that way. Not at all.

You really don't...

You snatch a surreptitious look at his profile whilst his attention's fixed on the screen. He's not got Tom's boyish and obvious good looks but he really is striking looking. You've never really had a chance to study him up close before and you take advantage of the moment to admire him, the sharp line of his jaw and the gentle slope of his nose, his lashes so long they're casting shadows on his freckled cheeks in the hazy glow emanating from the screen. His lips are full and you watch as he absentmindedly licks at them. You swallow and your throat feels choked up. What would those lips feel like pressed against yours?

"Thank fuck for that... it's over!" He suddenly announces, and it breaks you out of your apparent trance. You quickly look down, feeling a little shaken, your mind reeling.

"S'getting late," you hear him say and you look up again, just in time to see him stifle a dramatic yawn before both hands are raising up into an overly animated stretch above his head. "Reckon Bondy might be on one of his benders, could be out for hours yet... might even be an all-nighter."

As he talks one hand drops back to his lap but not the other. That one falls down to rest draped over the back of the sofa, lingering there just centimetres away from your shoulders which suddenly feel conspicuously bare in your tiny strappy top.

He didn't. He really didn't. Not the old 'pretend to yawn and stretch so you can sneak an arm around a girl's shoulders' trick. You didn't think people actually did that for real. Surely it's just a cheesy cliché move that guys in bad romance movies do... and Van McCann apparently.

He's grinning at you now, eyes glinting with an eagerness that makes your pulse quicken, the featherlight brush of a warm hand skimming the top of your shoulder causing goosebumps to break out. He's so fucking close you swear you can hear his breathing deepen. Too close for comfort.

You react automatically, panic willing your limbs to launch you up and out of your seat in a flash. "Well if you stay you'll have to take the sofa. I don't even have the guest room made up..."

"That's fine, I don't mind. I don't wanna put you to any trouble... and I'm happy to stay up talking with ya if ya like. This is nice... just the two of us."

As he speaks he shifts in his seat, rising up on to his feet too, managing to knock his jacket on to the floor in the process. That's not what catches your attention though. It's the sensation of something small and light falling on to your toe, something metallic which catches in the dull light emitting from the tele as you quickly stoop to pick it up.

It's a key. Van's front door key. It must be.

Realisation hits you quickly and suddenly as you hold out the key in your outstretched hand, watching Van's mouth drop open in shock as his eyes flick between your palm and your face, your own surprise written there clear as day.

"Y/N... I can... I can explain...!"

But this time you're not listening, enraged that he's been so sneaky. You've had enough.

"Just get out Van... NOW!"

[honeypiehotchner]

kiss me on the mouth and set me free (Damon Salvatore x fem!Reader) -- one shot

Hi my lovelies! I know this is not my usual content whatsoever, but I’ve been watching TVD with my best friend (@treat-winchesterswith-kindness​) and she was begging for a Damon smut, so this is the result. And I have to say...I enjoyed the hell out of writing this one xx.

Beta’d by @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​ and @a-radical-notion <3

Warnings: (Birthday) SMUT! (Slight) virginity kink, Daddy kink, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), biting (of course), size kink

Damon’s fingers touch gently underneath your chin, tilting your head, forcing your eyes to meet his. Not for compliance, he’d never do that to you. But for attention, for focus, for sincerity. He wants you to know his true intentions, the kind that only you can see when you’re looking into his eyes.

The usual mischief isn’t there. Instead, swirling in his eyes, are the softest emotions you’ve ever seen. The most genuine. The warmest.

Slowly, you nod. Your silent, willing compliance. Your silent, please.

As he leans forward to connect your lips--

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

Your dream is ripped right out from under you by the smirking vampire standing in your bedroom. “Damon, what the hell?” You sit up in bed, rubbing your forehead. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Yikes, what’s with the attitude? My feelings are fragile, you know.” He grabs a pillow off your floor and hugs it to his chest as he quite literally falls onto the reading chair you have by your window.

Your only response is a glare.

“Come on, do you not know what day it is?”

“No,” you mutter, dropping your hands onto the bed in defeat. “What day is it?”

His expression is surprise, sadness, and unamused all at once. “Your birthday.”

“Oh,” you chuckle. You guess that is today. You’ve been so busy lately. You knew it was coming up, but you weren’t aware it was coming up this quickly. And now it’s here, and you have no plans.

Or at least you thought you didn’t have plans.

“Up, up, up,” Damon orders, waving his hands at you as he stands. “We’re celebrating, you’re not allowed to say no. Up.”

One thing you’ve learned about being friends with Damon Salvatore is that once he’s set in his ways, he isn’t budging. So, despite feeling like lead has been injected into your bones, you let him drag you out of bed -- literally. He reaches both hands out and you accept, wrapping your fingers around his and allowing him to tug you to your feet.

You and Damon have always been close. More than close, actually. You’ve never kissed or anything, at least not on the lips. He kissed your forehead once when you were sobbing over something. You kissed his cheek once in public when a guy wouldn’t stop hitting on you. And the two of you have held hands before, but more as an “I don’t want to lose you” measure in large crowds. You love concerts, and Damon does too (especially rock) but he hates the crowds because he hates losing sight of you.

You wouldn’t be surprised if everyone just assumed you and Damon are dating. You know the two of you aren’t -- because he’s definitely had sex with other women while you’ve been friends with him -- but you also know his behavior might lead others to believe otherwise. You also know that’s kind of his whole intention.

He’s protective. It’s what he does best. When you’re next to him, no one who isn’t your friend will look at you. And when you’re not with him, you’ve noticed the number of people who approach you with ill intentions has considerably decreased.

Once you’re known indirectly (or directly, you guess) as Damon Salvatore’s girl, no one comes near you. Exactly how Damon likes.

You don’t mind it. You hate being bothered. You’re surprised you let Damon bother you for as long as you did before you caved. You can’t lie, you liked it. You liked him. You still do.

But Damon isn’t the settling down type. He’s not the type to be monogamous, at least not from your experience. You do wonder at times what his goal was whenever he’d tell you about his sexual encounters. It wasn’t like he was bragging, but you couldn’t help but feel like he was trying to get a reaction out of you.

So, obviously, you didn’t give him one.

Damon doesn’t always get what he wants. He just thinks he does. And you like to make him believe that.

“Are you ready yet? I’m starving,” Damon calls from the hallway.

You roll your eyes. “No. And you can’t be starving, you’re dead.”

“I know,” he smirks, sauntering into your room. “Look at you.”

“Look at me?” You scoff. “I wore this outfit last week.”

“Yeah, but you look...hotter, I don’t know. Maybe it’s your birthday.”

You roll your eyes again, a habit you do most often when you’re with Damon. “Whatever. Where are you taking me?”

“Oh, just, all your favorite places.”

“You’re full of shit, Damon.”

+++

After a full day of doing all of your favorite things, most of which Damon hates, by the way. You have no idea why he’s been entertaining you all day, but you’re assuming it’s only because today is your birthday. He’ll go back to his usual self tomorrow and hang out with you only when it doesn’t involve things he hates doing.

“Which one of your comfort movies are we watching to end the day?”

You eye Damon skeptically from the kitchen. He’s currently on the couch, flicking through Netflix lazily.

You don’t want to question any of this until tomorrow, so you tell him which movie to queue up, and you hear him muffle a groan.

You return to the living room with a giant bowl of popcorn, plopping it in the middle of you and Damon. He presses play on the movie, and you eat your popcorn with a smile.

Of course, you should’ve known it was too good to be true for Damon to keep his mouth shut all day because about halfway through the movie, he drops the bomb you had been waiting on.

“So...you’ve really never had sex?”

You roll your eyes, but don’t respond.

Earlier today when the two of you were walking around, Damon kept pointing out cute guys. And they were cute, you’ll give him that, but you had no idea what his deal was. After five or six guys are pointed out, Damon asks you, “Come on, you’ve never had birthday sex? A one-night stand on your special day?”

You had laughed and shoved his arm, and confessed, “I’ve never had any sex, period. So no thank you. Can we please go?”

You knew it was way too good to be true when Damon dropped the subject immediately and moved on, letting you drag him away to your other favorite spot.

Of course, you should’ve known he was only waiting for the right time. You did know. Which is why you haven’t answered him right now.

But he keeps going.

“What about held hands? Kissed anyone on the lips?”

“First of all, you’ve held my hand, and second of all, of course I’ve kissed someone on the lips, I’m not a nun!” You lie.

He looks skeptical. “When was it?”

“I was…” He gives you the look harder, not compelling you, but might as well have been. “Fine. I’ve never had sex, and I’ve never had my first kiss. Are you happy now?”

“Of course I’m not happy!” He gives you another look, this one like you’ve gone batshit crazy. “You’re missing out on one of life’s greatest experiences!”

“And this is exactly why I never told you,” you toss a popcorn kernel at him, watching it bounce off his forehead. He looks up at it, but he doesn’t blink. “Not everyone thinks sex is all there is to life, Damon.”

“Okay, that’s not what I meant--”

“That’s exactly what you meant.”

“I just mean if...you’re waiting…”

“Please, stop. Talking.”

“You don’t need to wait.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Because I’m right here.”

You stare at him blankly. “What?”

He shrugs nonchalantly like he’s not the biggest manwhore around. “I’m here.”

“You’re joking. Quit fucking with me.”

“I’m not fucking with you-- Well, at least not yet--”

“Oh my God, shut up!” You laugh, swatting at his arm, hating the way you’ve gone hot all over.

Damon Salvatore is attractive. Scratch that-- He’s more than attractive. He’s the kind of attractive everyone says they want in a guy, but obviously, it’s too much to ask for, so they settle for a little less. You can’t ask everyone to look like a God, but Damon does -- though you’ll never let him hear those words leave your lips. Never.

The prospect of having sex with Damon has crossed your mind more than once. Probably a thousand times, if you’re honest, but you always knew it would never happen. He’s Damon Salvatore. First of all, he doesn’t do anything besides casual sex, and second of all, you’re pretty sure his sex only includes experienced partners. You don’t exactly fit either of those criteria.

You never even thought he looked at you that way. You figured if he had, he would’ve made more jokes or insinuated things. But he never has with you.

“I’m being serious, you know.”

At this point, fifteen more minutes of the movie have gone by. But you haven’t been paying attention.

“Can I ask why?” You say, keeping your eyes focused on the TV screen.

“Why what?”

“Why now? Why are you suddenly interested? Because if it’s just to get your dick wet, I will kick you out.”

“What do you mean suddenly interested?” He counters.

“What do you mean?” You fire back, finally looking at him. “The whole time we’ve been friends, you’ve had more one-night stands than I can count. You never flirt with me. And just today you were trying to find someone for me to have birthday sex with. Are you serious?”

“Okay, yes, I have had a lot of one-night stands, and yes, I was being...obnoxious today, but I have flirted with you.”

“Since when?”

“Since every day I’ve known you!” He cries. “Did you not notice?”

You slump back into the couch cushions. “Well, I guess not.”

More minutes pass. The movie plays and you try to pay attention, silently wishing the couch would swallow you whole right now. This shouldn’t be embarrassing, but it is.

“I’m not saying you have to have sex tonight, but whenever you’re ready...I’m here.”

“Of course you’ll always be there for that.”

“You know I didn’t mean it that way,” he says, and you would’ve brushed him off again if he wasn’t looking into your eyes so deeply, and reaching for your hand. Not in a way that insinuates anything, but for comfort.

Silently, you turn your hand over and let him hold it. “What if...What if I’m not ready for sex yet, but…”

“But?”

“But…” You sigh, averting your eyes back to the movie. “What if I want you to kiss me?”

“I can do that.”

You nod, but you don’t move. Your hand stays gently held in his, your eyes glued to the movie. You suggested it yourself, yet you’re nervous.

Distantly, you hear the bowl of popcorn moving to the coffee table. You feel the cushion beside you dip slightly as Damon scoots over. And then…

“You’re going to have to look at me if you want me to kiss you.”

You feel his fingers gently lifting your chin, turning your gaze toward him.

“Are you sure?”

You roll your eyes, not as harsh this time because you’re too busy buzzing with the fact that his fingers are still on your chin. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

“Okay, okay,” he teases, his thumb stroking your jaw.

He moves slow, not wanting to rush you, but he moves so slow that you wish he’d use his speed. Before you can make a comment about it, though, his lips are finally on yours.

Kissing isn’t what you expected. But since it’s with Damon, it’s amazing.

He still moves as slow as possible, his hand moving from your chin to your jaw, cupping your face, pulling you closer. You have no idea what to do with your hands, so you leave them in your lap, curled into fists.

Damon pulls back, pecking your lips once, then twice, before finally pulling away.

“How’s that for a first kiss?”

You don’t bother responding. Instead, you grip his shirt in both hands and pull him back to you, kissing him harder. A growl releases itself from the back of Damon’s throat, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip in retaliation.

You open up for him instantly, fists releasing his shirt when his tongue strokes into your mouth gently. His hands find your waist and squeeze, massaging your skin, tugging you closer until there’s practically not even a centimeter of space between the two of you. You wrap your arms around his neck, a small whine leaving your lips when he pulls back.

“Damon…” You whisper, your vision hazy, but in the best way.

“Look at me,” he says softly, his lips ghosting over yours.

You blink slowly, looking back into his eyes. “Hm?”

“Do you want more?”

You nod pathetically, still annoyed with him for stopping.

“Words, little one,” he taps your nose with his index finger. “What do you want?”

“More,” you say almost instantly. “I need more, Damon.”

“More it is,” he smirks, giving you what you need.

You inhale deeply when he kisses you, and when you exhale, your breath fills Damon’s lungs. Your fingers thread through his hair at the base of his skull, your arms keeping you steady around his neck. His lips devour you in every form of the word, claiming you, coaxing you to open up to him. His hands tug on your hips, pulling you into his lap, straddling his legs.

Your comfort movie plays on the TV in the background, the volume turned down, but still there. Somehow, it makes more of your nerves melt away. Damon’s touch makes the rest of them disappear.

Damon pushes your hair back from your face as he holds you captive with his kiss. Another nip to your skin and he pulls back.

“I want more,” you blurt, “but I’m not a one night stand.”

“You are most definitely not a one night stand,” he replies softly, pecking your lips. “If you want more, I’ll give you more.”

“Give me more,” you all but demand, rocking your hips. “Now.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tightens his grip on your hips, stopping your movement. “Just because it’s your first time doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want.”

You fully stop your movement out of surprise and annoyance. “Why not?”

“Because…” He thumbs the pout from your lips. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Damon,” you groan. “Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I haven’t fingered myself.”

He chuckles lowly, grabbing one of your hands and lifting it up into view. “I am a lot bigger than your fingers, princess.”

You shudder at the nickname and fail to hide it.

His usual mischievous smirk stretches across his lips. “You like that?”

You nod. No use in trying to hide it.

“Princess,” he murmurs. “What do you want?”

“Fuck me,” you say proudly, already tired of the teasing.

He smooths his hands down your arms. “That’s not asking nicely.”

“Please, will you please just fuck me already?”

“Nice of you to say please,” Damon replies, pressing a kiss to your lips. “But I need to get you ready first. Don’t pout, kitten. Come on.”

He shifts his weight to lift you up, laying you back on the couch. Slowly, your pants are dragged down your legs. You wait for him to take your panties, too, but he doesn’t.

You lift your head, but Damon stops you before the comment leaves your mouth. “Patience, princess.”

You throw your head back into the pillow with a groan, one that quickly morphs into a moan when he mouths your clit over your panties. His tongue darts out to tease your hole through the fabric, smirking into your pussy as you squirm. He thumbs your clit before massaging your lips.

“There we go,” he murmurs. “I can feel you getting wet, and that’s what we need, Princess, I don’t want to hurt you...not unless you ask.”

A flash of a wet dream you had a few nights ago, where Damon’s mouth was in your neck, his teeth breaking skin only barely, but enough to taste.

“Did you just get wetter? Oh, Princess…”

The sound of ripping fabric fills your ears when Damon’s teeth tear your panties away. The sudden cool air on your wet pussy causes your hips to buck, and Damon’s hands promptly push them back down.

He crawls up your body, briefly paying attention to your collarbones and neck, daring to nip there, but not breaking the skin, and leaving as quick as he came.

His entire body covers yours as he leans down, pressing sweet kisses to your lips, smirking when he finds your lips already parting for him. And when your hands find the buttons on his shirt, he chuckles, but keeps kissing you, fiercer now as you unbutton every last one, leaving his shirt hanging wide open.

“You feeling good?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

“Just checking, baby,” he coos, kissing both of your cheeks, then your nose.

He slides back down your body, settling over your hips. Now, without the barrier of your panties, you can feel his breath on your pussy. Before you have time to process that feeling, though, Damon is diving in headfirst -- literally.

Damon is not a stranger to going down on a woman, and it’s actually his favorite thing in the world to do.

He doesn’t even try holding you down. One arm is stretched across your hips, while his other hand is busy massaging your lips, coating his fingers in your wetness. You expect him to thrust his fingers into you then, but a loud moan has you looking down to see Damon’s fingers in his mouth, tasting you.

He opens his eyes and catches yours, smirking around his fingers as he pulls them out of his mouth. “You taste good.”

You scrunch up your nose, earning a laugh from him.

“I’ll make you taste one day, kitten, you might like it.”

“Hmph.”

“Don’t start pouting now,” he says, keeping his eyes locked with yours as his fingers trail down to your entrance. “Just one for now, Princess,” he whispers, spreading your lips and pressing in.

One isn’t much, so all that you feel is pleasure and heat in your core.

“More,” you whine, lying back down, breathless. “Please.”

“There’s my good girl,” he coos, kissing your hip bone. “Asking so nicely. I’ll make you feel good, don’t worry.”

Another finger enters you and it is a bit of a stretch, but still not much. He was right, his fingers are bigger than yours -- and you’re sure his cock is bigger, too -- but it’s still not enough.

“More,” you cry, the word breaking into a choked moan when he scissors his fingers, opening you up.

“There it is,” he smiles, leaning down to flick your clit with his tongue before sucking gently on the bundle of nerves. He continues scissoring his fingers until he hears your moans growing quieter, and that’s when he adds a third finger.

Now you feel the stretch, but it isn’t painful. Your moan is louder than you expect, your back arching off the couch, and Damon swears for a second he might’ve stumbled upon an angel.

A small whimper leaves your lips when he curls his fingers, pressing into your g-spot ever so slightly. Not hard enough for immense pleasure because he doesn’t want to wear you out immediately, and he knows you aren’t used to that level of pleasure -- not yet at least.

He pauses his assault on your hip bone, never biting hard enough to leave a mark, to return to your clit. He’s not sure if you know it, but you’re close. He can feel your walls fluttering and squeezing his fingers, the tell-tale signs.

Once you feel his mouth back on your clit, sucking and nibbling gently, you’re blinded by the pleasure that crashes into you. It’s as if the skies opened up and struck you with lightning straight from the sun.

When Damon moans into your pussy, the vibrations send waves of pleasure through your every fiber, and you have no choice but to cum all over his fingers.

Something you do when you’re pleasuring yourself is you stop almost immediately, but Damon continues, milking every last bit of your orgasm until you’ve calmed down. He leans his head on your hip while he continues massaging your walls until he can pull his fingers out without hurting you or startling you.

The emptiness you feel when his fingers leave you is a little startling, but only so much so that you need something else inside of you. Which is why while he’s busy sucking on his fingers again, making a complete mess, you’re sitting up and tossing your shirt over your head.

“Woah,” Damon says around his fingers, his eyes widening when your bra comes off, too. “Hello.”

You almost glare at him. “I need you inside of me.”

Damon raises an eyebrow, licking his lips. “Pardon me?”

“Please,” you groan. “Please, I need more, I…”

“Shhh,” he shushes you, his fingers massaging soft circles into your thigh. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

He nods. “Lay back, Princess. I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

You obey, mostly out of exhaustion than compliance, and Damon knows that. You’ve always been a bit of a brat, but he’s seeing even more of it tonight.

He makes a show of shrugging off his shirt, watching you watching him, your arm bent underneath your head to prop you up. One leg is up and the other is down, and you look like Heaven.

Damon undoes his belt and tosses it away, taking note of the way your eyes follow it all the way to the floor. You don’t even look back to him until his pants are hitting the floor, and him stepping out of them catches your attention again. Black boxer briefs are all that is left, and they’re barely containing him.

He loves how intently you’re watching him. The genuine curiosity sparks in his eyes when he pulls his underwear down, kicking them aside. You blink slowly, marveling at the sight of him. He’s...pretty.

“Like what you’re seeing, baby?”

You nod slowly. “Mhm. Taste?”

“Next time,” he promises, kneeling on the couch, pushing your legs apart. “Tonight is all about you, Princess.” He presses a kiss to your lips to seal the deal, and you accept it, reminded of how empty you feel now that your legs are spread again.

You go quiet when you feel his cock nudging your entrance. He stretched you, but he feels so big.

“Is it...Is it gonna fit?” You ask, your arms wrapping around his neck again for support.

“I’ll go slow,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead, cheeks, nose, and chin. “You tell me when to stop, okay?”

“Okay.”

He kisses you again, sweeter and softer this time, but it’s only a distraction for when he initially enters you. He could tell you needed the distraction, and he was correct.

When you begin to feel him, your nails scratch his skin and he stops, staying there, waiting for your word.

He goes slow as promised every time you ask for more, and stops whenever you say so, or when your whimper is louder than expected.

Soon, though, he’s fully seated inside of you, and you feel sufficiently full. At peace. And ready for him to fucking move.

“Move, please, Damon, I need you to--”

He pulls out slightly and snaps his hips, knocking the breath out of you. He watches your face, but there are no traces of pain, only pleasure.

A rhythm slowly forms, one that you enjoy, until you need more and when you ask for more this time, Damon doesn’t hold back.

So much so that it forces a new name from your lips.

You didn’t mean to say it, but when he stops moving out of surprise, you can’t help but whine it once more. “Daddy, please.”

“God,” Damon groans, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. The rhythm this time is slow and dizzying. “Say it again.”

“Daddy,” you whimper instantly, bucking your hips, pulling him in deeper.

“Just like that,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over your vein. “You have no idea how hard it is not to just…” He pauses, letting his teeth graze over the sensitive skin there. “And when you call me that…”

“Daddy…” You cry out, feeling him nudging against your cervix.

“My sweet little girl,” he breathes. “Letting me take her virginity. That’s my Princess, my baby…” His teeth graze your skin again, teasing you, and then…

“Please,” you mumble, closing your eyes. “Do it.”

He freezes, and you feel it, but you’re tired of him freezing, so you wrap your hand around the back of his head, pressing his mouth into your neck.

“Do it,” you repeat, even more breathless. “Please.”

Damon can’t resist, not when you feel this good wrapped around him, when you’re begging, when you’re pushing him closer, yearning for it.

He speeds up his rhythm, chasing his high. He doesn’t trust himself to cum with his teeth in your neck, but he can cum right before, and sink them in while you’re cumming. The pain won’t be as intense while you’re mid-orgasm.

Almost as soon as you feel Damon’s seed spilling inside of you, your back is arching, your own waves of pleasure shooting through your body, your second orgasm of the night capturing you. And when you least expect it, because you assumed he had decided against you, Damon’s teeth sink into your neck.

It’s a feeling you’ve never felt before, but it’s one you’ll be asking for more often.

Your body relaxes, Damon’s now half-hard cock sitting snugly inside of you while he drinks from you, and when he finally is done, you’re floating blissfully.

You catch only a glimpse of his face before it returns to normal, and he kisses you gently to get your attention.

“How was your first time?”

“Amazing,” you murmur, scratching gently at the base of his skull. “Really...amazing.”

“Do you want me to move?”

“No,” you shake your head. “Stay.”

“Okay, well I need to pull out of you, but then we can cuddle.”

“Fine,” you huff, dropping your arms from his neck.

Slowly, he pulls out of you, leaving you empty once more, despite the pleasure still thrumming through your body. “You can warm my cock another time, okay Princess?”

“Hmph.”

He stands and shakes his head. “Alright, it’s nap time for you.”

You look up hopefully. “Bed?”

“Yeah, come on.” He slides his arms underneath your legs and back, lifting you up bridal style.

You’re asleep in his arms before he even makes it to your room.

[kimthwariru]

Namjoon reaction—calling him a ‘friend’ when he clearly has a thing for you

❀genre: smut, a bit of fluff

❀collage au

(This was originally supposed to be a quick reaction but something happened to me and I couldn’t stop writing)

“Look, Jisoo, I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong” you flash a cheeky smile at your best friend. She’s being going on and on about how this Kim Namjoon guy had a thing for you.

You can’t lie, you’ve seen him around in campus and sometimes you’d wish he would suffocate you with these thighs of his. Ugh. The perfect combo, lean yet masculine physique with a brain that actually functions for a change. You’ve seen the way these collage girls were circling him around and you can’t blame them, the guy was a catch.

But he was not your crowd of people. He was outgoing, social and had loads of what you like to call “the lad friends”. You guessed his main activities were partying and getting shitfaced every night.

You’ve talked to him a couple of times. He uses the same bench as you to read now and then. You would eventually take sneak peeks at the books he was reading, check if he had any taste or not, and the result was always better than what you expected. This guy knew books. He was not just reading what was on the best seller’s that week to look sophisticated in front of others.

When he caught you peaking he’d started having small talk with you. You swear you’ve never experienced a better conversation flow with another human being. This guy screamed comfort. He seemed genuinely curious about the things you were saying. None of that painful act of pretending to be interested just because he wanted to get laid. You had been talking with him for a month straight and aside from a few moments of some what flirty looks his actions never suggested something more.

His aura was welcoming and he always paid attention to the little things. Unlike some other shallow guys out there, he felt…different.

But how different could he really be? You’ve seen the people he hangs out with. Kim Taehyung? He had a relationship with three girls at the same time. Didn’t even apologize for being the biggest jerk in history. You’ve heard Jung Hoseok’s body count was reaching a 3 digit number AND Jeon Jungkook once fucked 4 different girls at the same night.

Just thinking about it makes you sick. It pains you to admit but there’s only one truth to this. Even if Kim Namjoon was interesting, he was definitely a person you needed to stay away from. All the data point to a big fuckboy alert!

“Come on y/n…. If he wasn’t even in the slightest interested in you then why did he tell me explicitly that he wanted you to attend the party??”

“An invitation to a party doesn’t mean anything. Besides, I’m sure I’m not his style. Have you seen the type of girls he hangs out with? Yikes.”

Jisoo smirked at you “Oh, I see you’re stalking him now?”

You shake your head “Don’t be ridiculous! We take Econ together, that’s all. What? Am I supposed to cover my eyes every time I see him?”

“Maybe you should” Jisoo came closer to you “Y/n, we’re going to that party”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“This is a big mistake, I’ll get bored within the hour” You scream at Jisoo over the loud music.

“Don’t be a whiney ass and enjoy yourself for once” she handed you a drink.

Enjoy yourself for once. You and Jisoo’s definition of enjoying one self were clearly very different. You scan the room to look for any familiar faces you could talk to. Unfortunately, not a lot of your acquaintances attended frat parties.

Your head motion immediately pauses when you meet eyes with Namjoon across the garden. Was he looking at you this whole time? You feel your cheeks burn.

Initially, you don’t know how to react but eventually you flash him a small smile and focus back on Jisoo

“Kim Namjoon just gave me the biggest stare of all time” you say as you down your drink

“What!?” Jisoo’s eyes widened “This is the time where I say I told you so.”

You think for a second that maybe Jisoo was right all along. But that just makes the whole thing more dangerous for you. You can’t lie, Namjoon is attractive, but you knew he was trouble. Maybe he liked you today and then liked another girl tomorrow.

Suddenly, you feel a hand touch your shoulder “Hey y/n, Jisoo. Glad you guys made it” Namjoon’s low voice pierced your ears.

Jisoo gave you a look before replying to him “Hey!! We couldn’t miss such a night!” She smiled “right y/n??”

“Yeah!! Totally” you cheer kind of awkwardly.

Namjoon’s eyes fixed on you. You felt his stare eat you up. His whole presence felt angelic yet overwhelming. “Do you guys maybe want to join us? We’re sitting right by the pool”

“Oh! Sure, why not!” Jisoo answered almost immediately

You were walking towards the pool, Namjoon was pacing right next to you, he was so close to the point where you could sort of smell his cologne. You swear you could get drunk off his scent.

“I have to be honest, I didn’t think you’d actually come” He chuckled

“Are you disappointed?” You teased and raised an eyebrow.

You see a dimple smile making its appearance, how can this dude be so incredibly hot and cute at the same time? “I think pleasantly surprised would be the right way to put it”

Why do you feel like you can not breath? He hasn’t said much, yet you feel yourself burn up all of a sudden. “Good to know” you smile back.

“Joon! You have to see this” was the first thing Taehyung yelled when you arrived to the place where the guys were sitting “12 o’clock, Hobi making out with Mina from 3rd year. Can you believe it? After two years of trying to get it, he finally succeeds”

Of course the main talk is girls. No surprise there.

“Jungkook bitch, you owe me 20 bucks” Taehyung eyed Jungkook

Your expression screamed disgust. Apparently, Namjoon noticed “They are not as bad as they seem” he elbowed you.

You give him and awkward laugh “I’ll take your word for it” You lie.

“Guys, this is Jisoo and y/n. Can you stop trying to head lock each other and say hello? You’re embarrassing me” Namjoon introduced the pair of you to the boys who were still arguing about the bet. 

“Oh, hey girls.” Taehyung paused to inspect Jisoo’s face. “Hey, business and shipping? Ain’t it?”

“Oh, yeah, right!” Jisoo smiled

“Hyung aren’t you taking that class for like the third time? How many times can you fail you recon?” Jungkook teased him and Taehyung answered by giving him a slap on the shoulder.

“Hey y/n, do you want to go grab a drink? I think you’ll need it if you are to tolerate these guys” Namjoon offered.

“I trust you know best” you smile and quickly follow behind him. His shoulders wide and his muscles very visible even through his airy shirt. This guy was a whole statue.

“By the way, I’ve never seen you at parties before. I think I saw you once at the December ball but that’s about it. Not really a big fan of these kind of things, are you?” He suddenly said. You can’t really decode his words. How did Kim Namjoon know you even went to the December ball? You’re pretty sure you didn’t even talk to him that night.

“Interested in me much?” You give him a cheeky smile but he was just looking at you, a couple of seconds passed without him responding “I’m only joking! It’s true I don’t really attend these sort sort of things.”

“And what do you do for fun miss y/n?” He laughs and you swear if you could bottle the sound and get drunk on it you would.

“Oh you’ll think I’m lame”

“Try me” he said in a serious tone while starring right through your eyes. Suddenly, your body felt too heavy for your legs to bear. How can he get to you like that?

“Okay…” You start, him looking at you like that didn’t help control your train of thought, but you manage to get a hold of yourself “So you know that little corner cafe on willow street? Every Friday they have these comedy music nights. A guy-“

“Park Jihoon and the little funny guitar, yeah! I used to go there every Friday during my freshman years! Do they still do that old thing? I swear the pun with the atom never failed to make my day.” He started laughing again.

“Whoah what? You’re telling me you’ve been to the shrieking shack?” That place was a little treasure you’d found earlier this year. It was an amazingly cozy place, perfect during the cold winter time. The staff were all so kind and wore these big oversized colorful ties. But the people going there were all much older than you. You’ve never heard someone your age talk about that place. Let alone a person like Namjoon.

“Careful how you talk to a veteran y/n. I’ve basically helped to build the place” he chuckled.

“Y/n is that you?” A familiar voice greeted you.

“Jimin! Oh my god, hey! It’s been ages since I’ve seen you!” You hug him.

Jimin was a great soul, he majored in contemporary dance and ballet. He had been traveling for the past couple of years enrolling in some extra ballet classes in the magical city of Paris. You envied him for his talent and admired him for his passion.

“Girl, you have to come visit me. You’ll love Europe!”

“I would also LOVE to have some money in my wallet” you laugh “Oh Jimin, this is my friend, Namjoon. We go to collage together”

Namjoon gave you a look and soon after shook Jimin’s hand “What’s up. Nice to meet you”

“Nice to meet you too! But y/n, I’m so so sorry, I have to go. I was actually on my way out just now. I sort of uhm, have a thing-you know” he coughed “I’m leaving in two weeks, can we please meet before that?”

You knew Jimin was probably off to his ex boyfriends house. They broke up before Jimin left for Paris but every time he got back he’d have a couple of hookups with him. “Oh yeah! I bet you’ve got something very important right now, you better go quickly” you teased him “I’ll text you tomorrow, ok?”

Jimin laughed so much his eyes were barely visible “definitely! text me! I’ll be off then! Bye mister Kim Namjoon” he playfully said and was out of your sight a second later.

“You two seem…close” Namjoon suddenly commented

“Yeah! We were! But he has been studying abroad for like two years now.”

Namjoon’s facial expression was quite enigmatic “Did you guys ever… you know”

“Oh no no no.” You pause to make a small chuckle “Jimin isn’t exactly interested in, well, girls like me, or to be exact, girls in general”

Namjoon’s eyes widened and he immediately bursted into laughter “oh… I see” he made a pause “So tell me then, how come the old soul that never goes to parties finally attends one?”

You feel your cheeks burn red. Partly because the reason you went was him. You don’t know why, but the past month you and Namjoon hit it off very well and you wanted to test Jisoo’s crazy theory, you wanted to make sure for yourself if Namjoon was interested in you or not. Now the problem was, even if it turned out he did like you, you didn’t know what you’d do exactly. Namjoon was a really nice guy, but he didn’t come without his red flags.

“Just wanted to try something different, I guess”

“And how’s that 'different' treating you so far?”

What could you possibly tell him? That you have enjoyed every minute you guys have been talking? That you think that just by staring at you he could make you feel things no other guy could? You barely can admit all of that to yourself. “I think pleasantly surprised is the right way to put it” you repeat his words from before.

You see him smile at that. “You know what y/n? I’m really happy you came”

How can he make your heart beat so fast with just one sentence? “Oh really? And why is that?”

“I don’t know, I guess… I just like talking to you, you know? Whenever I’m around you I feel at ease, like I can tell you anything. I feel different when I’m with you, but in a good way”

“Wow” that sound escaped your lips without your consent

Namjoon laughed “Why? Is it too weird?”

“No! Definitely not weird, more like, I don’t know, surprising?”

“In what way?”

“Well you’re… Kim Namjoon, you’re the 2021 class president and you’re like the most popular guy in the whole campus right now.” You made a pause “And I’m just..-“

“The most interesting girl I’ve ever met” he cuts you off

The way he was looking down at you made butterflies grow in your stomach “You really think so?”

He gently grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him “I know so” he leaned down, you swear his eyes had the whole galaxy painted inside of them. You couldn’t even breath properly at this point. Kim Namjoon was too close and the only thing you were thinking about was how well his kiss would feel “God, you’re so beautiful” he said and pulled you in for a soft, gentle kiss.

You couldn’t believe your senses. Kim Namjoon was kissing you and you really thought the earth had stopped spinning right then and there. You could feel his big palms traveling up and down your back.

His kiss was breathless, jubilant, filled with the joy of life, and you should stop him, he is no good to you, you know that, but his scent is delightful and his lips are so warm.

Unconsciously, your hands reach the inside of his shirt. His skin hot and soft at the touch.

"y/n" he practically moans your name, and just the sound makes your knees go week "Don't do that, I don't think I'll be able to stop"

"Who said anything about stopping?" You say and go back to kiss him even more passionately this time.

“There’s a lot of people here, my room is upstairs, would you perhaps want to-“

“Yes.” You immediately say. You don’t care about anything anymore, you’d let your future self deal with the consequences of today’s actions. The only thing that has been lingering in your mind is how good he’d feel inside of you.

The moment you’re finally alone in his room, he lifts you up, swinging you around and kissing you. It was like a dream. Namjoon was everything you wanted. Your reluctance about getting with him didn’t matter any more, the tingly feeling in your stomach overtook every single bit of hesitation you had. You needed him.

“God, you’re lovely” he exhaled

He looks at you as he sinks you down on the bed. Planting a soft kiss before his hands quickly begun to peel away clothes, yanking his belt loose, fumbling hurriedly at his trousers.

You look at his lips tracing your skin and the faint moisture left behind, you look at his muscly arms as he lifts you up and sinks you down again, you look at him looking at you, with eyes brighter than the sun itself. Was this all a dream?

When your dress was finally off he undoes your bra clasp on the way down. Slowly planting kisses on your collarbone, the tops of your breasts, your sternum, and you arched you back as you were needy for more.

His lips finally reach your nipples .Your boobs smooth under his hands, your nipple firm under his tongue, and there, that makes you squirm again, a little more insistently this time.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking wet right now, I feel it” You moan

You see him raise an eyebrow. A vivid smirk painted on his face “Let’s check, shall we?”

He splays his hand low across your belly, and the first brush of his thumb over your clit makes you breathe in sharply and him forget to breathe at all.

“I’m your friend?” He breaths in, his voice dangerously low

“Oh come on” You manage to say in between moans “what was I supposed to tell Jimin?”

His strokes and flicks are light and teasing, his thumb carefully circling around your clit. He gives you a slow, constant, unyielding pressure that makes your breath come up short, makes your toes curl in the effort not to move.

“I’m gonna fuck the word ‘friend’ right out of your pretty little mouth” he covers your mouth with an intense kiss before slipping two fingers of his free hand inside of you, and you makes a noise like triumph and want all wrapped up together. If his fingers felt like this, you can’t imagine how his dick felt like.

“Hmm?” He doesn’t look up, he keeps his eyes on his hands, on you, spread out beneath him “You like that baby?”

God, just the way the word 'baby' sounded coming from his mouth could make you come right this second. You look at him, his eyes look as hungry as his voice sounded. This dude was out of this world.

“Please Namjoon, I want it, I want you inside of me right now”

Namjoon lowered his underwear, and simply pressed his hard member on your slit. You could feel his balls softly caressing your clit as he made subtle movements while kissing you. “Such a needy little thing” he teases “Tell me how bad you want my cock inside of you”

“Oh..” you moan “I’d do anything, please…give it to me… fuck me like you own me” you whined as you used your pussy to caress his length up and down. He seemed to enjoy they way you touched him.

“Fuck y/n… that feels so good” he rests his forehead on yours.

“Imagine what my inside will feel then” you whisper in his ear “I’m such a tight good girl” you move your mouth in front of his, bitting his bottom lip as he growled when he felt your movement grow faster

“Fucking hell” he immobilized your body with his hands and pressed you down to the bed. He immediately shoves his dick inside you, filing you up to the brim before staying there for a couple of seconds and then pulling out completely. That movement made your vagina crave to be filled all the way up again.

“More” you whine, a dopey expression all over your face. You were so needy of him, but you didn’t care.

He lowered his left hand towards your thigh and gave it a big squeeze, kissing you aggressively while doing so. He quickly braced himself back into you, you felt your walls completely wrap around his member. It felt magical.

His strokes long and steady in the beginning. Every time he went in and out completely you felt the pit of your stomach burn in pleasure. Namjoon was doing everything right, you can’t lie to yourself, this is the best sex you’ve ever had. Normally with other guys you don’t even come close to coming, but now, you feel yourself trying not to do so.

“You like my dick being inside of you baby?” He plants a small kiss on your neck and goosebumps run down your spine.

‘Like’ was nowhere near good enough of a word to explain how much the sensation of him thrusting his hard member in and out of you made you feel. “I love it Namjoon… I just love it…”

Your words must’ve turned Namjoon even more on, because his pace immediately started becoming faster and sloppier. Every time your skin touched a loud sound could be heard. Namjoon was thrusting deeper and deeper into you, and every time he’d fill you up completely you’d cry out his name.

“Ah, I like my name so much better when you fucking moan it like that” he says and started shoving his dick inside of you like crazy. You could tell he was close to coming, and so were you.

It wasn’t long until you felt your walls clenching and your toes curling. The sensation overtook all of your body, it was mad… your heart beat uncontrollable. Namjoon made you feel a completely new range of emotions.

“Ah y/n, I can feel you cumming all over my dick” his voice cracky, You could see how turned on he was by all of this, by you. “Fuck” he shoved harder “You’re so” harder “fucking hot”

Namjoon stopped and pulled out immediately spreading his cum all over your tummy. The sight was breathtaking, you’ve never found a man so attractive while coming before, but then, Namjoon is no ordinary man.

He quickly grabs a couple of tissues and wipes you clean before laying on top of you again, placing another soft kiss this time. His hand playing with your hair. You were both naked and sweaty and a mess but it felt so magical. You wrapped your hands around his broad shoulders, pulling him even closer to you. You didn’t want even a centimeter of distance between you and him.

He suddenly stopped kissing you and simply stared at your eyes. After a minute or two, or maybe three, you're not really sure, time didn't exist right now, he tacked a string of hair behind your left ear.

“Y/n, let me take you on a date. Please. I know you don’t normally go out with guys like me, but I swear I’ll make it worth your while-“

“Park Jihoon and the little funny guitar. How does that sound? Or are you too good for the shrieking shack now?” You chuckled

“I’d love that” he smiled, making your heart melt a little.

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Just My Type: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 2 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Darkside

Main Masterlist

A/N: This chapter is 2K words more than the last chapter and I’ve second guessed every single line in this one. This story is getting a lot of traction guys and I’m equal parts happy and scared. Thank you for the nice comments, they do encourage me. Also I’m just ranting feel free to skip this note haha. Your support in any form: like, comment or reblog is appreciated greatly. Also you can dm if you want to be friends, God knows I need those. Hopefully, this chap was worth the wait. Also, I made a poster for this on the main masterlist so check that out, it might be foreshadowing dome plot.

Warning: Eventual Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks later.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can't ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can't get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Chapter 2: Just My Type

It had almost been a week since the incident and you had barely gotten a wink of sleep. When you drove back to your house that night, Steve surprisingly didn’t argue as you had expected. After that friend of his whispered something in his ears, you only assumed he was needed elsewhere and you couldn’t be more thankful for that. They escorted you to your car and Steve thanked you with a strained smile, words genuine but eyes calculating. You didn’t even wonder what went inside his head. You were thankful for the peace and quiet of your own car, content to just get out of the area and into your humble abode.

After you put the already asleep Grace to bed, you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of her room. You just sat on the floor beside the bed, hand intertwined with hers as you rested your head beside her tummy on the mattress.

Your adrenaline wore off and your limbs ached as your thoughts finally settled into place, the gravity of the catastrophe a few hours prior hitting you. Tears made their way down your cheeks as you realized that you both could have very well died tonight.

One bullet could have sealed each of your lives and you were basically defenseless had Steve not saved you against the creeping assaulter. You couldn’t commend yourself for even defending yourself against one attacker, the guilt of killing someone harboring in your tired head. Your quiet whimpers eventually wore you out, while Grace’s shallow breaths lulled you to sleep.

You didn’t manage to sleep for long though, every time your eyes closed, horrific images flashed in your mind. A blood curdling scream here, heaps of dead bodies there, with distant exploding sounds all around. You could see men clad in black holding guns to Grace’s head and whensoever you woke up, you just wondered how much more creative your mind could get, making these visuals so realistic.

When 8 AM rolled in, you didn’t wake Grace up even though it was Monday and you had work. You got up, changed into a long tee after a shower and called your office and then her daycare. You knew you would have a hard time going back to your normal life, to become trusting enough to leave her alone.

Your assumption about yourself was right. You took almost the entire week off, which your boss generously allowed you to after hearing your traumatic experience, which soon made the city news headlines. All your colleagues checked on you, almost once in the five day break you took, and sweetly enough offered to bring you anything you needed.

It was kind of them, but none of them could bring you what your heart genuinely craved: peace and assurance that you and Grace would be safe.

Even though Saturdays were off, you did go to work to see what you missed and where to start on again. You went in because you knew that the random spurt of resolution you got in the bathroom to collect your life, wouldn’t last.

To ease back into your normal life, you gathered your guts, called a babysitter and left home. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave Grace at the daycare just yet. One of your good friends offered to come in to the office and help you, even on the weekend and you were quite grateful to him.

When you both decided to take lunch in the nearby dining place, you both got to talking, the conversation obviously originating from ‘How have you been?’ and ‘Is Grace okay?’. You reminisced about how you used a photobooth to hide, grotesquely and uncomfortably chuckling when you remembered Sarah calling you her mom and how her dad saved you all.

You deliberately left the part where you killed someone and Steve shot someone too. You hadn’t come to terms with it yet and you stiffly restricted your mind whenever it tried to go down that lane.

He sensed how the conversation was becoming tense and distressing for you and briskly redirected the topic.

“I hope the dad was hot though?” He wiggled his eyes creepily and you snorted at his vulgarity, light for the first time in days.

“He was easy on the eyes; I will admit that.” You played along, recalling your girlfriends and how you used to ogle people.

“Don’t be a homewrecker though, I don’t support cheating.” He said nonchalantly, checking his phone as a notification bell rang off.

“He’s a widower.”

His eyes snapped up and met yours as his head tilted in confusion. “That’s a strange fact to know about someone you met for a few minutes.”

Steve’s even stranger comment about his dead wife popped in your mind and before you could stop yourself, you blurted that out as well.

“He even said and I quote, ‘She deserved what she got.’” He put his phone down, weirdly amused.

“Ooh Creepy! Do you think he is one of those husbands who kill their wives and bury them in the backyard? The podcasts always say that the psychopaths are visually handsome and charming. And his statement was quite vague and spooky.” He continued munching, and you felt that now Aiden was really paying attention unlike before.

“Steve did have a gun while searching for Sarah, come to think of it.” You drank your tea and awaited his response. What you did not expect was his eyes to widen and worry to cloud his features.

“Um Widower Steve with a toddler Sarah? At the place where The Vices attacked?” He mumbled, grabbing his phone and doing God knows what on it. Your eyebrows furrowed and before you could ask him what was up with his antics, he resumed.

“This is a long shot but I really hope your Steve didn’t look like this.” He positioned the phone in your vision, and you could already tell it was Steve by the sapphire blue of his eyes piercing through the screen into your soul. The picture was a month or two old, his hair was much longer when you met him than in the photo.

“This is him.” Your eyes met Aiden’s and worry visibly took over his features as his forehead creased and jaw tense.

He looked around the restaurant, finding it empty in the afternoon. He leaned and whispered, “This Steve of yours is dangerous.”

You interrupted Aiden, even though you already knew Steve was, the sight of his armed men still fresh in your head, and inquired, “Why do you say so?”

“It’s just like the fictional stories we hear from our parents, except here, in this city of ours, every myth holds true. There are really powerful men, untouchable by law, who reign the city silently and live luxuriously. Every shady, under the table deal you’ve heard of, transpires. Illegal trades, fraud schemes and bounty hunters are not fictional, they exist here. These men kill whatever hinders them and trust me, you don’t want to be the deer caught in their Jaguar’s headlights.”

Ice froze in your veins again, resembling the fear you felt that night but now because of your deemed ‘savior’. You convinced yourself that you had not wronged him in any way, instead had saved his daughter’s life.

“Are you in contact with him? If you are, distance yourself cleverly, don't block him immediately.”

“No, we just parted ways near my car, he thanked me for Sarah and was called away. It’s almost been a week and he hasn’t reached out if that’s what you mean. We didn’t exchange contacts and I don’t think I even told him my full name.” You explained yourself as if you were on the witness stand in court, trying to convince yourself more than Aiden.

“Pray that he doesn’t remember you more than that, if at all. I’m being totally honest here in telling you this, I’m genuinely worried for you and Grace. You are smart but he is powerful. He has unimaginable resources and if you become more than a speck of dust on his windshield, you are screwed. There is no exaggeration here.” You took his words to your heart and swore to be careful, if not for yourself then for Grace.

The rest of the day went by and you found yourself dwelling on and worrying about Aiden’s words. At least he put it out there as it was. Heeding his advice, you did google Steve on your phone, finally finding him in the topmost news headline when you added ‘Buck’ in the search bar as well.

‘With 38 lawsuits pending against businessman Steve Rogers, the filers have lost all hope in prosecuting him. All cases are being drawn out for indefinite periods of time by the Chief Justice Bruce……’

Aiden was right.

Businessmen was code for illegal mob heads. Cases being stretched on meant he was, in fact, invincible, at least to the common man’s fists.

You flickered through several titles, each one more surprising than the last. He was believed to be involved in the carnival attack, alleged for three hit and run cases that he didn’t lose but the witnesses swore they saw him driving and was also rumored to have brought in quintals of drugs just last week, but the packets just evaporated into thin air and there was no proof of their existence in the first place even on incessant searching.

Every crime of his made you shudder and you mentally thanked Aiden for pulling you out of your oblivion. Your mind raced and heart palpated and you cursed yourself for being so drastically unaware even after living here for almost four years. Technically speaking, Steve and you were even, him saving your life and you saving his daughter’s. No logical reason came to your mind for him contacting you ever.

You wished as Aiden said and assured yourself that your paths would never cross again, Steve not having reached out in a week, so hopefully never again.

That thought went out the window when you reached home to find a box awaiting you. Hannah, the babysitter you had called, informed you it came around 5 in the evening and was exclusively to be opened by you today.

Your mind raced as you paid the babysitter, your hands sweaty as you tried not to think about the gift and its sender. There was an apparently clear answer to who mailed it but you refused to accept that, courtesy of Aiden.

The box was of the height of Grace, it was black with red hearts painted across it; some red roses also sparingly adorned it. You opened the lid and found tons of red tissues and a multi-flower bouquet adorned with mostly red roses and a few purple and pink flowers.

Because of your frequent gardening in your backyard, you knew all the flowers’ meanings. To sum it all up, red flowers, especially roses were used for courting someone. Pink meant admiration, purple for beauty and you knew the ‘violet’ flowers were for loyalty.

As your nerves increased tenfold, you willed yourself to get it over with and empty out the box first, ignoring the little card in your bouquet, saving the ‘best’ for last. You find a mini bouquet inside but unlike yours, it had chocolates of every kind. You did read its card and cringed when it was for Grace, bothered not by the deed but by the doer.    

Further inside were some animal plushies, face masks, perfumes, scented body lotions and shampoos. Your head hurt thinking about the ‘single mother care package’ delivered to you by someone you refused to acknowledge.

As Grace sat in her playpen occupied, you dared to pick your card and read its message, your heart beating unrealistically fast for someone who refused to accept the cruciality of her situation.

~

I can’t thank you enough in this lifetime for saving my little princess. The gift of your help is more than anything money could ever buy for me. Please accept this invitation of mine for dinner tomorrow night, 7PM at La Bonne Nuit, as a symbol of my sincere gratitude for everything you’ve done. I’ll gets the kids covered and pick you up, you just be ready and look as amazing you always do.                                                                                           Sincerely,                                                                      Steve Rogers

                                                                                            ~

You stilled as you read it over and over again.

An invitation, your ass. Even in writing his authority portrayed, there was no question and hope for you coming, he just stated that you’d come. Looking pretty as always? You just met him once, in the middle of a calamity, covered in dirt and blood.

All the red roses and gifts screamed his romantic interest but you illusioned yourself into thinking they meant gratitude. You wouldn’t be able to digest it all otherwise.

Knowing what you knew now about Steve, you understood there was no denying the dinner tomorrow. You had to get out of his clutches and distance yourself, but as Aiden had so rightfully said, cleverly.

That night you laid in bed mulling over your next course of actions. You had called the gift shop to return the unwarranted presents you received but they said it was non refundable and anonymous to trace. You bitterly snorted in their face, they put a card with Steve’s name on it for heaven’s sake!

You didn’t flinch even when you realized you never gave Steve your address, neither for mailing stuff nor for picking you up. There was no number given to call him and thank or to call him and deny. The bastard had planned it all out, and you felt like you were driving in a one way lane, going deeper into the tunnel. Somewhere among your all-relentless fretting, you managed to finally sleep.

 When the doorbell rang, your eyebrows furrowed. It was just 6 PM and you weren’t expecting anybody else except for Steve. You had already begun getting ready, having developed a habit of keeping an extra margin of time now having a toddler. You still had to assemble Grace’s essential backpack, fill it with her meds and bottles.

While still putting on your diamond earring, you made your way to the door, unlocking it to find a redhead grinning at you. Before you could interact with her, a small body clung to your legs and you looked down to find the azure eyed kid that put you in this mess, Sarah, smiling up at you.

“Mama! You look pwetty!” She looked up in awe and now aware that she didn’t have a mother, you were even more so coerced into accepting this title rather than telling the kid that 'you are semi orphaned'.

“I’m Wanda, Sarah’s nanny. Mr. Rogers told me to pick her friend, Grace, up for the night?” So, this was what Steve meant. Bringing Sarah was proof enough of her legitimacy, but behind her you saw ‘Buck’ salute you from the driver’s seat of the black car. One of these days, you needed to learn his real name.

You invited Wanda inside and Sarah ran to Grace immediately, grabbing and whining while asking Grace to give her some popcorn she was munching on, her fist generously full.

In your open plan kitchen, you grabbed two plastic bowls, filled them with each with the tub of popcorn that sat in the microwave and handed each toddler one, fortunately quietening Sarah. Sarah obeyed Grace, in first thanking you, their ‘mama’ and then following her to her open playpen.

You faced Wanda again who sat on a barstool and kept on beaming. If your annoyance at her amusement showed, she sure didn’t let it falter the smile.

“Mr. Rogers told me you’d worry about your daughter, but I assure you she’d be in more than capable hands.” All you could focus on was how self-reassured she was. “I’ve served him for almost two years, the last family I served, I was there for 8 years and before them, I was employed for 3. I know the general bedtime and snacks, all I need from you is information about her allergies.”

You nodded and told her about Grace, her meds and what all you packed. When you got to know that her family owned the daycare Grace went to, you were finally somewhat convinced. After seeing them off, it was about fifteen minutes later, that the devil disguised in Prada showed up at your door.

You grabbed your purse and your keys. Wiping your sweaty palms on your dress, you opened the door. Steve stood there, a smirk lodging on his handsome face. His blue, three-piece suit perfectly paired with his cerulean eyes was impressive to say the least.

He was dressed to kill, and it appeared as if you were his first victim.

As your eyes took him in from top to bottom, his did the same lazily, taking their time, resting at certain places for longer period than others.

“You look stunning.”

You knew you did. You wore one of your more expensive dresses when you found out La Bonne Nuit to be one of the few seven-star hotels in the country. In hindsight, if you’d have dressed worse, maybe he’d have left you alone.

“Thank you.”

“Shall we?” He offered you his hand and you obliged with your palm in his. Your other hand pulled the doorknob while you stepped out, all alarms already set-in place. He waited while you locked and put the keys in and when you were done, with a soft kiss along your knuckles, he pulled you along.

The act surprised you, your stomach turning and your gut wrenching and you wondered if you’d be able to process the food after all, with your upset digestive system.

Like a proper gentleman, he opened the door for you and when you settled, he took his position at the driver’s seat. The silence was painful for you, your overthinking finally filling ideas in your head that you avoided contemplating about all day, focusing on Grace.

He was relaxed though; his humming was proof enough.

Mid way through, your thoughts were rudely interrupted when a hand housed itself on your knee. You glanced to find Steve’s palm slightly rubbing your knee. If it was meant to be assuring, you certainly didn’t feel like it.

You frowned and looked up to Steve who still had the arrogant smirk on his face, eyes straight ahead on the road, giving no indication of his inappropriate touching.

You wanted to swat his hand away but a brainwave dashed through your head and a disturbing thought made you halt, that whether he carried guns to restaurants as well, since carnivals were no big deal.

You ignored his hand and continued looking outside, pretending to ignore it as well as he did. Your scowl was a huge giveaway though.

You didn’t know that, but when your eyes found their way out, his finally rested on your face, the smirk growing even more.

Thankfully, apart from the incongruous touching, the dinner went okay-ish. The food and wine were impeccable, perfect even, the restaurant on the hotel’s top floors was so picturesque. You tried to savor your one-time experience there, knowing you’d no way be able to come back there.

Well, you tried to relish as much as you could while your mind still sat there, wary of the human in front of you. If you’d ignore your journey here, Steve was nothing short of a true gentleman, often making you wonder if you had imagined his hand on you.

This ‘friendly’ date you were having was probably one of the best you have had, he had left no expenses. He appeared to be interested in your work, about your childhood and about Grace’s but you swiftly avoided his questions about her father. He was growing a tad bit too comfortable for your liking and you still refused to entertain the idea that this was a ‘date’ date.

When you were finally onto dessert, the last course of your meal, your table was shadowed by the broad frame of a brunette and his date. He clapped Steve’s shoulder and Steve rose to hug him, you awkwardly smiled.

“It’s been far too long since you’ve been here, Cap. Why don’t you and your gorgeous date stop by my penthouse for a bit? We could finally go over the papers you sent me, in person?” He winked, they discussed something more and then went away, his date bowing and trailing after him as well.

Steve claimed his seat again, and finally told you about the interrupter. “That was my good friend, Tony Stark, always in a hurry. I’ll introduce you to him when we meet him later.”

“I think I’ll be heading home; you need not worry about my introduction, I hardly think we’ll ever run into each other again.” His eyes narrowed and you clarified, “Me and Mr. Stark, I meant.”

That’s good, don’t associate yourself with more of his kind.

“He was so kind in inviting you though, it would be rude to refuse.”

“It’s already late, Steve. And I’ve never left Grace alone for a night yet. What if she’s antsy? What if she is bothered? What if she feels unsafe? She's only used to very few people, and after last week, I-” You had started the sentence hoping to use Grace as an excuse but every word of yours succeeded in making you more apprehensive.

The carnival night flashed in your mind, along with the nightmares and you started panicking even more. Your hands clammy, your dessert spoon fell in your lap as sought your phone in your purse, hoping to call Wanda for an update. You felt like a terrible mother, who left her child with a stranger, only a week after she suffered trauma, just to go on a date with a mobster.

Steve reached across the table and grabbed your fidgety hands and as you wriggled to get your hands free, he softly called your name. Voice stern but vocals gentle. Your blurry eyes snapped to meet his while he guided you to breathe deeply, in and out.

His firm hold convinced you to listen to him, you’d never free yourself of them otherwise.

When you had calmed a bit, he withdrew his hands and fetched his phone. Your thoughts slowed down, and you wondered if anyone here was judging you. Your little scene, mercifully, went unnoticed by the other affluent people dining here.

Steve handed you his phone where four colored frames rested, the screen showing you Grace and Sarah cuddled in a frilly, pink four poster where Wanda sat too, her lips moving.

The feed was live and the screen muted, both the toddlers’ eyes fluttering close slowly, on the bridge of sleep.

You handed the phone back to Steve and drank your water while he rubbed circles on the back of one of your hands. You never freaked out like you did right now, always collected and never giving into anxiety. What had happened to you?

Well, In your defense, you had never experienced a disaster either.

“The kids are safe; I’m never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

Your mind did catch the plural in his statement but you promised yourself you would not let it get that far and continued drinking your water, emptying the entire glass.

“The HD image you just saw was by cameras Tony recently developed. His technology is amazing, I’ll take you to his lab sometime.” You appreciated his attempt to redirect the topic but you also focused on how tech-savvy his friends were as well.

You hummed and agreed, trying to be ambiguous with your answer.

When you finished your dessert, you hoped he’d forget about his ‘friend’ Tony but to no avail.

“His penthouse is two floors above. He owns this hotel as well in case you didn’t notice.” He led you to the elevator as you recalled the Starks Group logo you saw earlier sometime.

Some AI named Jarvis opened the elevator doors for you in the living room of Tony’s penthouse. It was even more magnificent than the restaurant earlier, the place illuminated by several hues of different colours. Steve chuckled and strung you along, introducing you to a ginger-head named Pepper, who was Tony’s date earlier and went to search for his acquaintance.

She offered you wine but you politely declined, opting for water instead. She brought your glass to you from the extravagant kitchen and you both sat on the barstool there instead of the living room. Too anxious to say the wrong thing, you stayed quiet until her voice filled the deafening silence.

“So, Steve almost never brings dates around. You two serious?” She questioned, leaning towards you, waiting for some gossip, no doubt.

“Oh no! We aren’t dating. He just invited me for a friendly dinner. We merely met the other week.” You deliberately left out the part where there was bombing by crime families and attack on the common man.

“Honey, in the mob life, you don’t just introduce random people to the fam.”

Oh, she wasn’t being shy about the whole mob ordeal. It seemed weird to hear it from her, since you and Steve hadn’t used the word yet. Maybe he figured you already knew considering the circumstances you met in or how famous he was.

“We really aren’t romantically involved. This dinner was just a gesture of gratitude if I’m being truthful.”

She chuckled, as if you were a kid making stories and quizzed, “Gratitude for what?”

You trapped yourself into that one. You didn’t know how to answer her and your brain downright blanked. Surprisingly,, Steve came to your rescue and two voices interposed your conversation.

Steve called your name and as you turned to the men, he continued, “She’s the one who saved Sarah the other night. You know the story, Wilson probably got it printed.”

“Impressive, really. Hey, I’m Tony and I see you’ve already met Pepper, my fiancée.” He shook your hand and kissed your knuckles, much like Steve did earlier in the day. You bowed, smiled and mumbled a ‘nice to meet you as well’. They escorted you to the elevator and Tony continued.

“Well, it’s not everyday Steve brings brave and extraordinarily attractive women around. Welcome to the family, sweetie. She’s a keeper, Cap.” He winked while saying the last sentence and before you could correct him, Steve ushered you inside the elevator, bro-hugging him. As the doors closed, Pepper winked at you from behind Tony and a shudder ran through you.

Okay you had to make it clear, get on the same page.

As the elevator music filled the silence, you started, “Steve, look we aren’t-”, “I served in the army, that’s why Tony calls me Cap, short for captain.” And crudely got interrupted.

“I never wanted to get into the army, I thought people were fools to sacrifice the one life they got. But I went to make my mother’s dream a reality, I really loved her, you know? Sarah is named after her, my mother.”

His voice broke at the end and as much as you wanted to redirect onto your former topic, you couldn’t. This amiability of yours would be the death of you.

“She died alone in her bed; I was dispatched too far away to even make it back for her funeral.” He mumbled but you heard him clear as a sunny day, and he leaned back onto the wall for support while you awkwardly rubbed his shoulder to return the support he provided earlier during your mental breakdown.

He closed his eyes and gathered himself, taking deep breaths. As the elevator dinged, his eyes opened and he gave you a strained smile.  

The car ride to his mansion was painfully silent, his mind too sidetracked to focus on harassing you again. With all that you went through today, you almost forgot about that.

His mansion was enormous, twenty guards stood outside and even more patrolled the lawn. He took you inside his house, the interior even more detailed and scenic than Tony’s temporary residence.

You just concentrated on swiftly getting Grace and Uber-ing back. As Steve showed you earlier, Grace and Sarah hugged and slept and it was a meticulous task to untangle their limbs without waking either of them up andnd get Grace with her back-pack. You thanked Wanda on the way out, hoping to avoid Steve but somehow he stood outside before you, leaning on his sleek black car. He opened the door for you before you could refuse the ride. You settled with Grace in the backseat itself, trying to be smart.

He just summoned one of his guards to drive and sat alongside you in the back. You didn’t let the annoyance at his clinginess show though. You just focused on Grace who drooled over your shoulder.

Hopefully, there won’t be any point of exposure to him ever again, your circles didn’t match, both social and professional. Your Venn diagrams didn’t overlap anywhere. This should be reason enough to avoid meeting ever again.

He didn’t try anything even this ride around. You doubted it was hardly because of the toddler or because of the driver. He did as he pleased, if he wanted to he could very well grope you. Luckily, he wasn't in the mood.

When you reached your dwelling, you stepped out hastily, thanking him in a whisper. You fumbled to get your keys out, but since everything you held slowed you down, he caught up with you without even trying.

He took and held Grace’s bag while you drew the keys out, Grace still on your hip. He handed you the bag back, “So this is it, I guess?”

“Yeah, tonight was a total delight. Thanks for the dinner and everything, really.” You put up your best façade, hoping to convince him.

“It was, thanks to you. The company matters the most.”

You awkwardly chuckled and you sensed him leaning in, his eyes flickering shut. Your eyes closed as you turned your head to avoid him, so that his lips would peck your cheek.

They never came.

Your eyes opened to find his and he chuckled, leaning in once again swiftly, catching you off guard this time. He didn’t meet your lips though, he kissed the corner of your mouth, lips overlapping for a fraction of skin.

“In due time, baby.” He stepped back and strolled to his car leisurely, content in his own world.

You opened your door and slammed it shut, the peck feeling wrong on so many levels. It felt more sensual than a lover’s kiss, leaving room for intimacy and longing.

Your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers an hour, the most absurd but nauseatingly true being, this was a date and it was not your last encounter.

Steve smirked outside in his car, the dinner an absolute success in his opinion. Tonight just made him feel that you both were more than compatible for each other. You needing him during your mental breakdown, him relaxing under your shy touch, Tony’s approval, not that important though, and your anxiety for Grace was the best part, because he, more often than he’d like to admit, fussed about Sarah the same way, agonizing and fretting her well being.

A text lit up his black screen and his grin widened even more if possible.

‘The Stark cameras are up and working, Sir.’

[eunkimmie]

i have always loved you

anonymous: How about about Sal and fem!Y/N raising a baby together? The two were FWBs, but then a slip-up resulted in Y/N becoming pregnant so they ended the sexual relationship and opted to co-parent. Thankfully, they were graduating from uni soon at the time of their slip-up. As the years roll by, Sal and Y/N grow closer and slowly fall in love. They get together after realizing their feelings for each other are genuine and eventually have another baby.

(had to reupload)

warnings: she/her pronouns, pregnancy, FWB, nsfw, non-canonical Sally Face plotline word count: 3.6k Sal was a sentimental guy. He had a lot of feelings swirling around in his heart. Big feelings for a small guy. As true as that was, Sal was never one to see sex as anything sacred or sentimental. He didn't believe in "saving himself" for anyone—it just wasn't something that was for him personally. To him, sex was just something that came to those that experienced sexual attraction. Arousal wasn't a foreign feeling to Sal, he had been a teenager once, too. Sal was attracted to her. This girl—Sal barely even knew her name, god—was just hot to him. His type, for sure. You were Niel's friend and greeted the group with a smile. Sal was twenty-one now. Twenty-one years old, never had a girlfriend, and a virgin. Sal supposed that his teenage years weren't exactly spent pining over girls or having sex. To Sal, virginity wasn't anything more than a social construct. So why was it that he was suddenly so aware of his own virginity as this girl—(Name)—laid below him with her brows furrowed in pleasure. It was dark, pitch-black almost, to the point where you couldn't make out the scarred features on Sal's face. Very much intentional. He was sure he looked like a fool, anyway. His eyes rolled back in ecstasy, lips parted as grunts and breathy moans came from his lips.

Sal's shaky hands came down to grab the sides of your hips, angling his own hips to thrust into you and pull your body back down on his dick. It was hot in every way, Sal felt like his entire body had been set on fire. His hair that had been messily pulled up into a bun was barely tied up anymore, blue strands stringing down from his ears. You screamed as Sal moved his hands up to your back, pulling your entire body up to manage a new position. You rode him as Sal's hips snapped back up in sharp rhythm to meet a steady pace, moaning loudly, shamelessly, as his cock buried deeper inside you with each thrust.

"F—uck. Fuck!" you screamed, arms wrapping around Sal's neck as his teeth bit every so gently down into the curve of your neck. Your nails ran down his back, no doubt leaving scratches behind, which made Sal groan. Maybe he was a bit of a masochist.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck—" Sal pushed you down to lay on your back, pulling out quickly and pumping the tip of his cock hastily before finishing on your stomach. The two of you breathed in quick rhythm, Sal eventually collapsing down on the mattress of his bed. He felt his face burn hot, realizing the rash decision he had made. He hadn't even asked. "S-Sorry," he gasped between breaths. You didn't seem to mind, giving him an honest "it's alright" before wiping your stomach off with a few tissues. You dismissed yourself to go take a shower after putting your clothes back on, the two of you suddenly hyper-aware of Sal's roommates.

Sal pulled his boxers back on as well as his prosthetic and laid out on his bed feeling embarrassed. He hadn't exactly...made you finish. Fuck, you probably thought he was some kind of loser. His first time and he finished in probably five minutes. All Sal could do was groan in mortification and get dressed, shamefully, of course.

He had already settled back into his bed with a video game by the time he heard a knock on his door. You made your way in after his go-ahead, hair wet and chipper.

"Hey," you said plainly. You pointed to a spot on his bed, and after his approval, you sat down comfortably. Sal felt embarrassed all over again. "Um...sorry. About that. I don't really—I mean, I've never—"

Your laugh cut him off. It seemed harmless, and Sal felt his shoulders relax a bit as you waved a dismissive hand. "Hey, don't worry about that. Seriously. I'm not going to judge you over sex." He gulped, staring at you beneath his prosthetic. You seemed awfully understanding, but your reassurance did make him feel better. A beat of silence passed before you spoke up again. "Maybe...we could keep doing that? If you'd want to? Sorry if that sounds intrusive."

"Like..." Sal paused, setting his game down and watching as your body language showed signs of bashfulness. He felt a bit surprised at your own timid nature. Hadn't you realized how bad he was at the sex stuff? Really, he only copied what he had seen in porn. Copied it poorly, that is. "Like some kind of friends with benefits thing? Even though I suck?" That made you laugh, and it was such a beautiful sight to behold. The bed shook as you turned to face him properly, legs crossed on his mattress. "I don't think you suck. Fuck, I sound like some kind of pervert...But, still. You don't have to say yes, of course...I just thought, well. I thought I would at least ask."

Sal would've been an idiot to say no.

The two of you continued like that for a while, probably for longer than you should've as just two friends. You were close friends, friends that fucked every once in a while. It seemed to satisfy the both of you, but you two were by no means careful. Usually, the two of you had sex on a whim—he could recall the riskiest time was when the entire group was out shopping and the two of you got one out in a bathroom. Still, Sal just...never really considered the risks. Besides, the two of you had been doing it for this long, and nothing had happened, so the chances must be low, right?

...One morning you showed up at Sal's little shared house.

"...Hey. Are you the only one home right now?" Sal opened the door to let you in, eyes widening just a bit as he shrugged. Perhaps your relationship had gotten too casual, but he just hadn't ever stopped to even ponder the situation. Sure, he had a little crush on you when Niel introduced you to the group, but that turned into a sexual relationship. Maybe Sal had feelings for you. Maybe they were buried so deeply that Sal never even realized. But he knew that, even outside of your sexual relationship, that he cared for you regardless.

"Yeah. It's a little early, isn't it?" You breezed past him, sitting down at the dining table and sliding a wrapped breakfast sandwich across the table, a gesture for him to sit. He watched as you bit into your own, curious. "Did you just want to talk?" You offered him a smile, one that signaled that you were here not to have sex, but instead to just be a friend.

Sometimes Sal couldn't help but wonder. He'd get lost in his thoughts, listening to ambient music in his room, what would life be like if you two had just stayed friends? Maybe that could've lead to a real relationship. Maybe. And the two of you weren't in a situation where it was awkward, or where they would have to sneak out of the other's room after a night of sex. They could cuddle and wake up next to each other, have some breakfast, and carry on. Sal always felt butterflies when he woke up and you were sleeping next to him. In some ways, he felt wrong for feeling that way. He didn't know what to feel. Perhaps a part of him figured that this was the closest he would ever be able to get to have a real romance with you. Sal didn't know. It hurt his head if he thought about it for too long, so really, why even bother pondering the possibilities?

But when you sat across from him, so mundane, eating a breakfast sandwich and looking sleepy, how could he not feel these things?

"Is that bad? If I just talk?" you looked up at him, hoping you hadn't caught him in the middle of anything important. It wasn't bad. It was never bad. Sal always had time for you. "No, I was just laying around. Todd and Niel went off to the supermarket, and I think Larry is out in the shed."

"Right, well..." you paused, biting your lip. "Okay, so you know how we always promised to be open with one another? Like transparency?" Sal quirked an eyebrow, nodding and gesturing for you to go ahead. "Yeah, so like. Fuck, man, I'm just gonna come out and say it. I missed my fucking period." At this, he saw your hands clench a bit harder down on the sandwich you were holding. Your eyes gathered tears in the bottom lid, and you sucked in a sharp breath. "A-And I don't know if that means anything, like shit. It couldn't, and I would be here just freaking you the fuck out, but I dunno man. I'm just...Shit, I don't fucking know what the hell I would do if I were..." Sal stayed silent, the cogs turning slowly in his head.

"A-And I don't know, like, I'm twenty-two. I know a lot of people have kids by now, but I just—I don't know, and it's not like I'm asking you to be super involved it's just—"

"What? I would want to be involved." Sal's lips seemed to move on their own, but it was just so painfully obvious to him. Obviously. Obviously, he wanted to be involved. It wasn't a question, really. The two of you had known each other for about a year now, and even though nothing was truly going on...Truth to be told, Sal couldn't help but think about you even after you were gone.

After about five positive pregnancy tests, the two of you agreed to stop your situation. There were a lot of tears, more so from you with Sal rubbing circles on your back. You would cry to him about how you weren't ready, or how you were going to fuck up, and all Sal could do was be there for you. Sal didn't see him as much as a father type. In fact, the two of you hadn't even ever worked out what the situation was. He wasn't even sure there was a situation.

It was strange. Sal wasn't a father. He didn't look like a father. He didn't know how a father was supposed to behave. Sal spent his weekends playing video games and learning Pokemon themes on his guitar, that wasn't what a father was supposed to do. At the very least, Sal had already moved his bed and belongings to the basement of the house and made a makeshift nursery in his bedroom.

A baby girl, chubby and crying had come after months of going back and forth on what to do. It was strange. Sal never saw himself as an adult. He'd grown in height and gained some tone in his body, yet still he couldn't differentiate the person in the mirror from the kid who used to wear pigtails every day and get pushed around in school.

What was probably worse is that Sal didn't feel a connection with his child. The child was his, undoubtedly, but he didn't feel much. He had read and heard about parents being so enamored and parents who just immediately felt love for their child, but Sal didn't. He stared back at the baby girl, her features taking after yours for the most part, yet hair as blue as the sky, and furrowed his brow. You, on the other hand, held the child close to you, foreheads touched together as the baby cried and you let out shaky breaths. Parents didn't always have that immediate connection with their children, but, even still...Sal could open his heart up just this time for a child. For you. Even though he had seen the worst of what the world had to offer, he would try.

Try he did. Sal couldn't see any other reason to do anything but for his child. Diane. That was her name. There wasn't any other option, and you had almost instantly agreed. Henry cried, the recollection of his late wife and his memory as a father had come forward as he sobbed when Sal's baby had touched his face for the first time, tugging at his beard. Sal's dad hadn't been there for him when he needed it most, coming around in an attempt to make things right when it was almost too late, but Sal refused to make that mistake. He did everything for his daughter. He was taking online college courses to get a degree in graphics. He did so much, too much, maybe, as in the wake of his determination the two of you hadn't even discussed your own relationship. In fact, it never even came to mind until Larry had asked. The two were sitting outside after having met up at the lake. Larry, moved out by now and living in a shared apartment closer to his community college, and Sal, still living with you, Todd, and Neil, sat in the grass drinking sodas.

"So...I don't know, man."

"Huh?" Sal had looked over at him. The sun had just barely dipped down beyond the horizon, the sky a pale purple. Larry shrugged, pursing his lips together in thought. "You know, a lot of people who have a kid and live together are at least dating. In most situations." Sal continued to stare, the realization of his words sinking in. Larry was right. Sal knew he was right. Perhaps Sal had forgotten. And that was truthful, too. It was so easy to forget when the two of you were living together, raising a child, and maybe just every once in a while waking up next to each other like you used to.

"And don't get me wrong, I'm not judging. In fact, I couldn't be happier for you. Ash too. You haven't really been this happy, this grounded, since you got here. To Nockfell. It's just...I dunno. Haven't you ever thought of, like, marriage?"

Marriage. Yeah, Sal had thought of marriage. The first time he saw his child he thought of it. The first time he held her, the first time he had taken off his prosthetic and his little girl just stared up at him in the same way before her little hands reached up and grabbed at his nose, he thought of marriage. Even before that. When your stomach was swollen, seven months pregnant, and Sal had caught you staring down at your stomach with a swirling mix of emotions behind your eyes, he thought of marriage. The two of you slept in the same bed. Every time he'd wake up next to you, he thought of marriage.

Sal Fisher was so undeniably in love with you. He had been so undeniably in love with you, maybe even from the first time he laid eyes on you. It hadn't ever been about sex. It had been about you. About how you smiled at him, and how your arms would wrap around his shoulders as you kissed him deeply. It had always been about you. Sal had been so blinded, he truly thought sex was the only way to keep you around. But now...Well, shit, what now?

"...I have," Sal finally responded. "I love her."

Larry stared at his friend, Sal's eyes roaming over the moon's reflection in the water.

"Isn't that answer enough?"

. . .

Little Diane was two, now. Sal finished his basic courses and graduated from the two-year school. The two of you were busy packing up your daughter's belongings into boxes, a moving truck waiting outside.

"Are you sure we cant convince you to stay?" Niel joked, hand intertwined in Todd's. Todd nudged his husband, laughing a bit with a furrowed brow. "Yeah, it's not like they have a kid or anything." You laughed, smiling brightly at the two. It had been a long journey of memories in this little house. It wouldn't ever be a place you nor Sal would forget. But it was time to move on. Sal had gotten accepted into a college to finish out his degree, and you had managed to get a job with a lot of flexibility in the same area.

"Yeah, but...California. It's just so far. And so different from Nockfell."

"True, but I think that's a good thing, honestly. This town is so strange...I could never figure out why, but it just gave me this feeling...And I don't want Diane spending her childhood years here." Todd exchanged a knowing look with Sal, the two remaining silent about the shared knowledge. Todd cleared his throat, ridding his head of the foul memories. "I suppose you're right. We'll have to come and visit sometime."

Larry and Ash had come over to the house as well, all helping you and Sal move and disassemble furniture. Gizmo was purring happily on the couch, content to watch the rest of you do all the heavy lifting until it was time to go. Henry and Lisa had even come over, Diane resting in her grandfather's arms. With all of the helping hands, you and Sal were about ready to get moving in just a few hours,

The two of you stood outside the house, your daughter asleep in her car seat in the back of the moving truck. It was strange. Sal had spent years in this town. He was just a kid. A kid that played guitar and a kid that loved video games. A kid that would search for an hour with his best friend Larry for quarters hiding around Addison Apartments just to buy a bag of chips from the lousy vending machines downstairs. A kid that had gotten mixed up with the supernatural that he would be sure to protect his daughter from. A kid that simply met a friend of a friend and fell in love with her smile. Sal couldn't help but wonder how different his life would be if not for you.

You and Sal exchanged your goodbyes tearfully with your friends and family, promising to keep in touch. And finally, with a turn of a key, you were off to a new life. It was a long drive in which Sal reflected on his life. He could've been a nobody. He could've been that weird kid with some weird mask and from a weird town. Just another picture in a yearbook. Maybe in another life, he had been a murder. He chuckled...how unlikely. He couldn't have ever imagined his life like this. Sal Fisher, the family man. He wasn't too sure that his face would fit in at a PTA meeting.

After hours on the road and multiple stops, the two of you arrived at a neighborhood with a row of brick townhomes lining the road. They weren't the best or the most luxurious, but they were within walking distance of schools and a good driving distance from Sal's university and your job. Maybe it was a bit cliche, and in sincerity, all too normal for Sal's life. He was the guy who had talked to ghosts, and yet he was about to move into a cookie-cutter neighborhood with a kid.

The two of you stepped into the house, the smell of dust being the most prominent. It would need cleaning and hard work, but it was yours. Sal didn't think he was exactly cut out for the whole "white picket fence" family, but a family nonetheless.

A family. A husband, a wife, and a daughter. Except, that wasn't his situation. He had a friend and a daughter.

Sal stared at his life. Twenty-five. Years had gone by, probably in the most unexpected way that Sal could ever imagine for himself, yet he still felt as if he hadn't moved very far with you. But you were here. In a house that you two had bought together, with eyes he had stared into for four years. His daughter with his mother's name and his hair was in your arms, giggling and squirming around, eager to crawl around the new environment. He looked over at you, eyes shining bright with hope of a new adventure and lips upturned in a smile.

"Can you believe it? Sal, our own place. This is insane. Can you believe it?" your head turned to meet his gaze, tears gathering in your eyelids. Sal stared at you, eyebrows furrowed. "Sal?"

"Marry me."

The words came out fast, but the same nonetheless. The weight of them wasn't something Sal was aware of. He had been thinking of this for years. Never the right time, never the right place. But everything seemed right. Standing here, seeing you smile the same way as you did at that first meeting years ago. It was different now. He couldn't imagine a life without you in it. Sal wanted to see you smile as he slid a wedding band on your ring finger. He fantasized about his little girl walking down and throwing petals. It was silly, but it was what he wanted. He was sure of it.

"W-What?"

"Marry me. I love you."

You stared at him, mouth agape as the breath was taken from you. This was Sal. The father of your child. It was Sal, the one who had refused to leave your side when you were pregnant. Who stayed calm when you couldn't. Who had played with your daughter and refused to stop smiling for her. Even before that, it was the same Sal who had kissed you like there was nothing else in the world to do. Sal Fisher was full of love to give and wanted nothing but the best for everyone around him despite the world throwing so many challenges his way. What other response was there to give?

Sal took your hand after lowering his prosthetic, eyes staring seriously. "Will you marry me?"

"...Yes."

[wandering-travesty]

Off To The Races

 Zeke’s life wasn’t supposed to be like this. His father would have a spontaneous brain aneurism if he saw the daily goings on of the younger Yeager’s household on his days off. Horrid amounts of smoking outside, snow or shine, day-drinking without a second thought, and lonely, not by choice. He had honest-to-god tried to live the life his father wanted for him. He married a woman straight out of law school and knocked her up a few months after. They raised that kid for a year then repeated the process. They lived, laughed, and loved for a few years, then, as a surprise to no one, the divorce came along. His wife had run off with a lump sum of money and started a new life out of state. He got left with two kids, substance abuse issues, and a law firm to run. He was stressed, depressed, and by the holiest powers above, was he horny. 

 Ignoring the horniness for a moment, everything changed when you came around. Every inch of his world brightened, almost like a light at the end of a tunnel. You gave him some form of hope, and reminded him that life wasn’t all doom and gloom. You were still in college, looking for some extra funds to help pay your tuition; a lawyer that doubled as a father of two was the perfect target. You had shown up in your prettiest outfit, almost as if you were showing off for him. Being the kind of man he was, Zeke couldn’t help but hire you. Some sweet, fetching little thing coming up to his decadent doorstep in a tiny little tennis skirt and begging to take care of his kids? That was something he could never turn away. 

 So, you became the official caretaker of Zeke’s little angels. You truly adored looking after them while their, admittedly handsome, father slaved away at his big, important law firm. You rang the doorbell right as the kids were waking up, Zeke greeting you at the door already dressed in one of his repulsively expensive suits. You talked over scones and coffee and made the kids just about anything they wanted. He would leave, and you would get the kids dressed and out the door with ample time to catch the bus. You’d clean the house, make yourself some lunch, play with the family dog. The golden retriever was just another cliche. But you still loved the mutt, especially since every family member loved him, too. You could tell because Zeke had named him after some long-dead baseball player, meaning he would be enamoured with the thing no matter what.  

 It was fun, picking up on little details about Zeke, or Mr. Yeager, as you called him. He loved baseball and would talk about it for hours on end if you let him, and he hated strawberry icecream for some unexplained reason. He was the face of success for his entire life, from being a star pitcher on his little league team back home to captain of the debate team in high school; he had never really failed at anything or gotten robbed of what he wanted. He was a winner in everything he had ever tried. He had mentioned how high-strung his parents were, and how they’d gone through a divorce of their own when he was young. He and his step-brother never got along that well, and had actually turned out to be very different people. His family life was anything but smooth, and he feared his kids would look back on their childhood in the same light. You guessed that’s why tonight was happening. 

 “Alright, I’m entrusting my children, dog, house, and painfully expensive belongings to you for the night.” He was dressed to the nines, hell, the tens. He wore an umber sport coat, mustard turtleneck sweater, a thick black belt, grey slacks, chestnut oxfords, and the most expensive golden watch you had ever seen. His flaxen hair shined perfectly in the low light of the entranceway; it was official: you wanted to fuck him. Rather, you wanted him to fuck you. You wanted him to fuck you stupid and make you squirt all over that pretty watch, and his even prettier face. 

 “I’ve got it covered, Mr. Yeager.” His youngest son wrapped his arms around your legs as the dog rubbed his head into your palm. “Knock ‘er dead!” You gave him your cheesiest smile and thumbs up. He chuckled at you as his eldest son grabbed your free hand. 

 “You’ve got this, Dad!” He cheered, starting to drag you to the living room. 

 “Thank you, Atticus. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gave a weak smile, turning to leave through the large oak door. It was awful, how badly he wanted to stay there with you and the kids. He wanted to chase Atticus down the hall as the rest of you ran after him, laughing all the way. He wanted to put on some old, boring movie only he wanted to watch and feel your breath on his neck as you fell asleep just after the kids and dog sitting on the floor below you. He wanted to feel your warmth in his bed. He wanted to see what you looked like backed up against a wall. Heaving after an especially passionate kiss. With your legs over your head, screaming his name. The sweat dripping down your face as you came undone beneath him. The little whimpers you’d make as he pulled out of you and cradled you in his arms. He wanted you, not this random woman off of some shitty dating site. He didn’t really want the booze, or the men, or the women, or the money, or the white picket fence, or his father’s approval; he just wanted - no - he needed you. Your game of cat and mouse, seeing which playful “sweetheart” or coy little “Mr. Yeager” would be the one to tip you over the edge of more than friends.  

 “Zeke? That’s you, right?” The tall blonde woman in a sleek black suit walked towards him with an outstretched hand. She could’ve easily been a full foot taller than him. Interesting.

 “Yes. Yelena, correct?” But she wasn’t you. He just wanted to get this night of false wining and dining over with so he could come home to you. You in his big, expensive house. Better yet, his big, expensive bed.

 - 

 You sat and watched the clock after the kids went to bed. It ticked and tocked, back and forth, over and over. It had been about an hour since you’d put them down for the night. You couldn’t wait for Zeke to get home for much longer. Butterflies buzzed through your stomach when you heard the doorbell ring.

 “Mr. Yeager?” You opened the door to the sight of your employer with his shirt halfway unbuttoned, glasses falling off his face, and hair an absolute bird’s nest. 

 “Hey, beautiful.” He purred, slumping onto your shoulder, trying and failing to be smooth. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in my house, huh?” He looked up at you over the rim of his glasses. The way his eyes glimmered a dark shade of teal lit your entire body on fire. Feeling his full weight on top of you only made it spread farther.

 “Babysitting your kids, for starters.” You maneuvered your bodies to have his arm wrapped around your shoulder as you dragged him back into the house. “Apparently I’ll be babysitting you, too.” You mumbled, just then realizing exactly how muscular he was. You sat him down on the leather couch and started to walk to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. You didn’t have much experience with alcohol, but you believed water helped with it somehow.

 “Damn. Loving the view from back here, gorgeous.” He leaned forwards with his elbows on his knees, licking his chapped lips. You jumped at the sudden compliment. You couldn’t remember him being so…dirty before. You walked a little faster than you already were, wanting to get away from him before you made a stupid decision. You poured a tall glass of water, walking back to the couch where Zeke was now lounging, legs spread far enough to leave barely anything to the imagination.  

 “Hey there, doll. Got somethin’ for me?” He giggled, lowering his head from where he had been resting it. His eyes were something to behold, and the deep rooted confidence and downright cockiness behind them only served to make you shiver. You shuffled closer, a bit skittish at the sight of the beast before you. 

 “It’s just water.” You sat down on the table in front of him. “It’s supposed to help with your metabolism, I think.” Your voice was a higher pitch than usual, feeling an odd pressure in your throat every time you spoke.

 “What a smart little thing you are.” He praised. It felt genuine, and you started to feel hotter. You handed him the glass, trying your best to avoid eye contact. He took the glass, and almost as if he had sensed your intentions, took your chin between his fingers and forced you to look into his deep, ocean eyes. He leaned back a bit, giving you a better view of his exposed chest. There was a light layer of golden hair overtop of his expansive chest, and it seemed to trail down the rest of his body. You wanted to find out if that was true. Still holding eye contact with you, he tipped the glass and send the water spilling down his shirt. You knew that wasn’t just drunken clumsiness, but a calculated measure to get in your pants.

 “Whoops.” He said, eyes cold and emotionless as his words. “You better clean that up, sweetheart. We both know I can’t take care of myself in this state.” You moved closer to him, hands unsure of where they were going. You were shaking a bit, and you didn't have a towel on you. You decided the best course of action was to unbutton his shirt the rest of the way. You felt down his chest, gently tugging on his nipples. He let out a soft groan as you continued to feel him up. 

 “You’re gettin’ a little handsy there, baby. You want something from me?” He pet your hair as you moved further down on his chest. You kissed and gave kitten licks, appreciating every inch and curve of his muscular form. You couldn’t get enough of him, try as you might.

 “I fuckin’ knew it.” He pulled you by your hair to force you to look at him.

 “Filthy little harlot.” He squeezed you cheeks, forcing your mouth open. You looked confused until you felt a glob of spit hit your tongue. You swallowed like it was second nature. 

 “You’re just here for my dick, huh?” You continued to kiss and lick down his abdomen, savoring every ounce of him you could; the smell of cinnamon, menthol, and saltwater hit your nose, intoxicating you further and further the more you breathed him in. “I bet it’s all you think about. Especially when those fingers rub that pretty little cunt until you cum all over yourself.” You let out a whine, signifying exactly how right he was.

 “Yeah.” You dragged your tongue up his six-pack, savoring the slightly salty taste. “Think about you every night.” You licked a stripe down the same line you had just gone up. “Only way I can get to sleep.” He smiled the warmest smile you had ever seen him produce. Such a sweet little thing for him, getting off to thoughts of him railing you silly in order to have a good night’s rest. Your submissive, horny mind was so focused on him you couldn’t get to bed without him. You were perfection in human form. Truly a goddess sent from above. He would worship you in the most degrading way possible.

 “I knew you were dirty, I just needed to force you to show me.” He continued to pet your hair like you were some kind of beloved family pet. You felt so small under his touch; so fragile, as if one touch could blow you away forever. You loved the feeling more than life itself. You felt like you could never live without it again. Touching yourself while thinking about him wouldn’t do the trick; not after you had felt the real thing.

 “That’s it, honey, kiss me like you mean it.” He teased, knowing exactly what was running through your head. Sure, he was no master of seduction, but he had bedded plenty before, and he knew exactly how talented he was. He had learned from years of experience; years you hadn’t yet lived. You would learn it all from him. Those little college boys he could smell on you every so often wouldn’t cut it anymore. He was meant for you, and you for him. He knew he already had you trapped, but playing with you was so fun. Poking and prodding and mocking you all while you worshiped him like he had hung the moon in the sky.

 “You love this body, don’t you, slut?” He pulled your hair suddenly, earning a yelp that went straight to his aching cock. “You know, I’ve only been keeping in shape for you. I knew from the moment you saw me that was the main appeal, and lord knows I’d go through hell to keep you around.” That was true. He knew others would settle for mediocrity, but a flawless little angel like you deserved better than mediocre. You needed someone to match your talent, beauty, and wit. He didn’t believe he equaled you in anything but maybe wits, but still, he was good for you. At least, you seemed to think so, considering you were giving tiny kitten licks to the tip of his recently freed dick. The tip was red, swollen, and leaking a sinful amount of precum. You sucked it all up, taking the engorged head between your plush lips. You felt like heaven, but the ache in your pussy felt like hell. You slowly began to go the full length down his cock. Zeke was right: you had messed around with college boys before, but none were as big as him. Your gag reflex wasn’t prepared, causing you to choke and sputter on it. Zeke grinned slyly.

 “Say my name, sweetie.” He wanted to treat you right, but it was so enjoyable to indulge his sadistic side.

 “Mr. Yeager.” You choked out. You knew how much he enjoyed that title; the feeling of authority it brought him made him hard as a rock every time. He groaned in pleasure, sending shivers down your spine. That knocked him off his rhythm for a moment, but he was right back on you the minute he regained some sense of self.

 “The kids are right upstairs, peacefully sleeping, while you choke on my dick like a dumb little slut.” The thought made you feel so dirty. You shifted on the ground, squeezing your thighs together and trying to get some friction. “And you do it so well, baby. I couldn’t ask for better.” He sighed.

 “That’s it, pretty girl, don’t hurt yourself down there.” He slowly pulled you off his cock by your hair. He didn’t want to admit it, and really didn’t show any signs, but you had him on the verge of cumming down your throat. But he didn’t want his precious seed there. Hell no! He wanted you stuffed to the brim and properly bred.

 “I’ve wanted you for so goddamn long, you don’t even know.” The look on tour face was something beyond pleasure or pain. It was a mix of both with a side of...fear? “What, scared of taking something this big, doll?” You shook your head.

 “Don’t worry, daddy’ll get you nice and wet for him.” He slowly came to hover over you, lifting you up and sitting you down on the couch. He spread your legs, undoing the button of your shorts with his long, thick fingers, bringing his mouth to your zipper and pulling it down with his teeth. He pulled them down your legs, bringing his face to your core. You felt hot on his mouth and nose. He licked a wet stripe up your clothed core,

 “God, you taste like honey, sweetie. I’m so fuckin’ lucky.” He pulled your panties to the side, relishing in the sight of your puffy pussy. You were beautiful in the murky yellow light of the room. You folds shimmered with slick and he could see your cunt clench around nothing, so obviously desperate for his dick. That’s right, his dick. Only his. From now on.

 He dove into you, savoring your tangy flavor. Pussy was a taste all its own, each having new, intense, rich tastes he could barely describe. To be perfectly honest, Zeke was a sucker for a wet little cunt in his mouth, and you were the perfect subject. Every suck to your clit, every kiss and lick to your folds, every darting flick of his tongue into your aching little hole; it had you moaning and whimpering like a ditzy little slut. Your mind was hazy with ecstasy.

 “Don’t get too loud now, dollface. Don’t wanna wake the kids now, do you?” His words brought you back to Earth, forcing you to remember you were being eaten out by a father of two. It felt so filthy to know you had been bringing up his kids, acting as a faux wife, and now you were being treated like one, eaten out of your mind and promised a thorough breeding.

 “Not that I don’t believe you would get off on being watched. I bet you love that idea, huh?” You jolted at the words and the sensation of another kiss to your cunt. “It might sound a little sick, but I could invite my brother over, see if he has as good a taste as mine.” He’d be willing to invite Eren over for a test run of…you? You knew they didn’t get along, so it was surprising, but that only turned you on even more. Imaging them fighting over you like hungry wolves on the hunt. They’d ravish you without even thinking. If this was Zeke, held back, on his own, you could only yelp and whimper at what kind of monsters the two of them would be together.

 “Nah, that little shit doesn’t deserve you.” He smirked into your sopping wet core. Eren never appreciated the finer things in life, still to young to understand the joys of pussy eating. No, he was more for the fuck and chuck kind of lifestyle. You deserved better aftercare than a point towards the door. “Some of the guys at my firm, however. Bet they’d turn you out real nice. They’re all just about as big and pent up as me. We could all show you a real good time." That would be about…three, four, even five of him? All fucking you at once with the same vigor and deep seated intensity. You head buzzed at the thought. "You’d like that, wouldn’t you, whore?” You couldn’t keep up with him in this state. You were completely fucked out without even being fucked at all. Before you knew it, you were cumming all over his gorgeous face and beard. He was taken slightly aback, but he licked it all up in five seconds flat. He was a professional.

 “Answer me, doll.” He delivered a harsh slap to your thigh. He enjoyed the ripple it gave and the red mark his hand had left.

 “Yes, Mr. Yeager.” You stuttered out, barely above a whisper. Torturing you would be fun, but not tonight. No, he needed to be thorough with your pleasure and ensure you would never leave his side again. He gave a few light slaps to your slippery pussy, making your thighs shake and mouth move without making a sound.

 “That’s what I fuckin’ thought.” He slowly stood up, giving you a perfect view of the shining god before you. His body was something sculpted by the old masters; a true work of art. Before you could fully appreciate the image of perfection in front of you, he bent down just a bit, pushing your thigs back as far as they could go, squishing your tits under them. He enjoyed the way your pudgier parts stuck out, giving him more parts of you to pinch and suck on as he fucked into you. His was no doubt the biggest cock you’d ever taken, and it wasn’t easy to have inside of you at first. Your walls clamped down on him so tight it was almost painful. But as he slowly pushed in and out, pleasure began to overtake the pain and you started to loosen up just a bit.

 “Just relax, sweetie. Daddy’s got you.” Of course he had a daddy kink. It made perfect sense, as did yours. Hearing him say that in that truly comforting tone made your head spin with pleasure.

"God, you are so fucking tight." He continued to fuck into you at a savage pace, not seeming to care if you screamed or cry, rather relishing in the fact that you were. You were so young and tight and sensitive, it drove him mad. He was sure he could never go a day without your pussy again.

"You fit me like a vice, sweetheart. You trying to milk me dry? Huh?" Your mouth was hanging open, drool spilling out. It gave him ample opportunity to spit in your mouth once again.

"Swallow it you filthy slut." He lightly tapped your face.

"This is exactly how I wanted you." You could barely hear him, blanking out at the intensity of his continuous pounding of your poor little cunt. "Been thinking about this for months."

"Might just knock you up, sweetie. You already take care of my brats so well, what's one more?" You squealed at the thought. He wanted you to have his babies. He wanted you to be his new, permanent play thing to fuck and fill up every night.

"Yeah. I wan' your babies." You slurred your words, inebriated by the feeling of his cock filling your tight little cunt. He gazed down at your fucked out form, finding a sick sense of pleasure in how far gone you were all thanks to him. You moaned far too loud for someone in a house full of kids. You couldn't hold back, he just felt too damn good.

"You gonna cum, little girl?" He had almost a mocking tone when he asked that. You nodded your head, squeezing your eyes shut. He kept up the pace, abusing your g-spot, not letting up for even a second. He set out to make you feel incredible; like the perfect little plaything he knew you to be, and he wasn’t going to let his slightly aged stamina get in the way.

"That's it, you look so pretty, baby. What a good little slut." He looked down at you with heated intensity. "My little slut." He continued his brutal pace almost as if you had never cum at all.

"Oh, 'd you think I'd quit just 'cause you finished? No fuckin' way." You squealed as he continued to thrust inside you, still drunk on the idea of being full of his cum. You wanted him more than you had wanted anything in your life.

"'M gonna make you squirt all over me. Ruin this nice, expensive couch." You were screaming his name at that point, unable to form a thought that wasn't Zeke and his perfect dick.

"Such a fuckin' cocktease all these months. This is what you get for it. Tummy full of my cum." He slowed his pace as he looked into your eyes with the intensity of a man drunk on desire.

"All those times you flipped your skirt up so I could see your cute little panties." He thrusted into you harder than he had before. "All those times you called me Mr. Yeager in that innocent tone that drove me up the wall." He thrusted harder than you had ever thought possible. You felt him hit your cervix. "Every time you acted like you didn't know what you were doing. Like you didn't know what I wanted." He continued to pound into you. You felt so full, so good.

"You're getting tighter, baby. You gonna squirt while daddy fills you up, huh?" His pace was brutal and you were seeing stars.

"That's it, pretty baby, cum all over me. Let me fill you up." He humped into you a few final times before shooting his load into your cunt. You screamed at the feeling of your cum squirting out of you as his cum squirted into you. You were so dizzy and so full. You were happy. You were safe and taken care of and filled to the brim by the man you loved most.

 “Hey.” You saw Zeke’s stunningly handsome face look down at you. His cheeks were flushed, forehead sweaty, sculpted chest heaving. But his eyes were transfixed on you with a look so filled with love and passion it made you feel like you were floating. “How you holding up, princess?” That was a new name…not that you minded. “Didn’t go too rough did I?” He panted in between his gentle words, the main drawback of giving it your all.

 “Actually.” You huffed a bit, just then realizing how difficult it was to talk, or move, or breathe. “Think you coulda’ gone harder.” He chuckled, the same look of complete infatuation lingering in his oceanic eyes.

 “Yeah?”

 “Yeah.”

 “You sure?”

 “I’m tougher than you’d think, old man.” He laughed at you, appreciating how you could still be the sweetest little thing he’d ever met after being pounded half to death.

 “Alright, I’m not even thirty, you little minx.”

 “Calling me a minx isn’t helping your case, Zeke.” His eyes lit up with recognition.

 “First time you’ve called me that, angel.” He smiled like an idiot in love, because he was one.

 “Maybe it’ll be the last, if you keep acting like such an animal around me.” You slapped his shoulder with as much strength as you could muster, which was basically none.

 “Well, if you don’t like the rough treatment, how about I treat you like the perfect angel you are? Treat you to a nice, warm shower and a cuddle session with yours truly. How about that?” He gently rubbed your cheek, taking in how wonderful your afterglow was.

 “Sounds nice.”

 “Alright, let’s go, angel.”

 “Okay, Mr. Yeager.” You giggled at how quickly his face darkened and lips tightened into a frown.

 “Ever the tease, you are.” He carried you to his shower bridal style, no doubt a sign of things to come.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 2

Oils

Cult girl socializes at the opera and receives an unexpected call. 

Note: I tagged this as “anti mlm” as in multi-level marketing and not men-loving-men. 

Trigger warnings: Discussions of cults and emotional manipulation

It wasn't until after the opera was over that people began to notice you may have had a little fun during intermission. Hannibal's hair wasn't in its usual perfect side part and his jacket was slightly wrinkled in places. You could cover most of his love bites with your stole, but nothing could hide that post-orgasm glow.

Most opera-goers stayed to socialize for hours after the show concluded, making an already long night even longer. It was like clubbing, but for rich old people.

"So you're the future Mrs. Hannibal Lecter?" A woman with silvery hair said. She dragged her husband into the conversation by the arm. "I've heard so much about you."

You were about to say something witty, but noticed the way she was looking at you. Scanning you up and down. Looking for anything out of place to grill you about.

"Only good things, I hope." Hannibal said in your silence. His voice was vaguely threatening. "She is a doctoral student, in her second year of her graduate studies in clinical psychology."

The husband, who, up to this point, hadn't spoken a word, perked up. "Is that right?"

You smiled, excited for the chance to talk about your passion. "Yes sir. I've still got quite a ways to go, but I love my work."

"You should be proud." The man praised, looking at Hannibal. "You've got yourself an ambitious wife."

"Oh, we're not married yet." You corrected.

"So when can we expect an invitation?" The woman asked.

"Six months from now, isn't it?" Hannibal answered. "Memorial day weekend. Then I'm taking her to Italy for a lengthy honeymoon."

The woman threw her head back and sighed. "That sounds heavenly."

"You young modern girls are always so intuitive." The man commented. "I'll bet you tricked him into marrying you."

You wanted to call this guy out for his sexist bullshit, but he wasn't far off. It was Hannibal who tricked you, though.

Technically, he proposed to you within the first six months. You just didn't know it. It took until shockingly recently to find out.

It was during a ballroom dancing lesson of all places. You were sweaty, but loved the feeling of your lover's hands gently guiding your movements. You stepped away from the lesson to get some water, and innocently asked when he would propose to you.

"I believe I already did." He said with enough conviction to blur the lines of seriousness and sarcasm.

"You pretended to." You corrected. "Remember? We were just pretending to be engaged for Anna's wedding."

"But it didn't end after the wedding, did it?" He observed. "You kept calling me your fiancé long after that weekend passed."

You paused, then threw your head back in exasperation. "Oh my god, Hannibal."

Hannibal laughed. "I told you. Someday it won't be a lie."

"You're a piece of shit, you know that?" You pressed your fingers to your temples. "So we've been engaged this whole time?"

"What can I say?" He said, gently. "I knew you were my one and only even then. It was just a matter of circumventing your inhibitions."

"I'm not complaining." You folded your arms. "But a little notice would have been nice."

"Well, if you insist." He laced his fingers between his own. "[F/N] [L/N]. Will you be my wife?"

Even though the question was truly just a formality, you were still as giddy as a schoolgirl to hear those words.

"Yes, Hannibal Lecter." You said, cheeks stinging from smiling so hard. "I will marry you."

Then you just went back to the dance lesson like nothing happened. It was shockingly in-character for both of you.

"No." You shook your head. "We killed someone together and took a blood oath to never separate."

The couple laughed. Hannibal looked down at you with pride.

“So [F/N].” The man said. “Have you given any thought to your doctoral dissertation?” 

“Oh, Charles.” The woman rolled her eyes. “I’m sure she didn’t come here to be grilled about her studies.” 

“No, it’s okay.” You smiled. As long as you were talking about school, you weren’t being interrogated about the thirty-year age gap between you and Hannibal. “I have been thinking about my dissertation. There are plenty of fascinating topics to choose from, but I can’t not write it about, well, the reason I began to study psychology in the first place.” 

“And that is?” The man raised an eyebrow.

“Cults.” You said, grinning ear to ear. “Understanding them, their leaders, their followers, why people join them. How they evolve and grow more insidious as time passes. What form they’re starting to take in the digital age.” 

“That is interesting.” The woman’s voice rose, connoting genuine engagement. “And what form are they taking in the digital age?” 

You looked up at Hannibal, as if to ask for permission. Permission to rip into her and burn that bridge for good. He answered in the affirmative. 

“Ma’am, could I take a look at your bracelet?” You asked, already knowing exactly what she would say. 

Her face lit up. “Oh, do you like it?”

She pulled it off her wrist and handed it to you. You brought it to your nose and took a whiff, confirming your theory. Then you handed it off to Hannibal, whose sense of smell was much more refined. He took one breath, then recoiled. 

Hannibal covered his mouth and nose with his hand and coughed. “That is... quite strong, Mrs. DeMarco.” 

“It’s Affirm, by doTERRA.” She revealed, her voice growing defensive. “It helps you ground yourself and remember your worth.” 

You handed the bracelet back to her. “Do you sell doTERRA, Mrs. DeMarco?” 

“Well, now that you mention it...” A small smile appeared on her lips. “Why? Would you like to buy some?” 

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, ma’am, but...” You lied. “You’re actually in a cult.” 

She had nothing to say to that. She just stared at you with her mouth agape, urging you to explain yourself. 

“Multilevel marketing companies employ a host of cult manipulation tactics to con people out of their savings.” You explained. “Just because the promise is financial independence instead of a spot in paradise, doesn’t mean it’s not a lie. Research conducted by the Federal Trade Commission shows that the vast majority of participants actually lose money. The statistics are just a google search away, yet thousands of people still insist on the legitimacy of the companies they sell for.” 

“Well, I-” She protested, but couldn’t find the words to defend herself. “I’m there for the community, really. For the first time in years, I have a sisterhood of like-minded women who love me!” 

You smiled through a cringe. “That’s another pretty common cult manipulation tactic. They appropriate familial language to make people feel more connected to the group than they really should be.” 

Although you didn’t expect her to, she looked to be genuinely considering it. 

“Next time you see your ‘sisters’,” You began. “Pay attention to how they talk about people who are not in the group. Or, better yet, tell them that you’re considering leaving. You’ll see how conditional their love is.” 

An awkward, deafening silence followed. The woman looked at her husband, as if willing him to do something. To stand up to the evil twenty-something grad student who had the audacity to cite her sources. 

Instead, the husband just burst out in riotous laughter. 

“Miriam!” He nearly shouted, heaving like he was about to collapse. “I told you that oil business was up to no good! No honest company makes their employees pay to work!” 

The woman’s face turned red. You almost felt bad for her. The feeling vanished when the man put his hand on your shoulder. 

“Seriously, Dr. Lecter, you’d better keep this one.” He said, wiping a tear from his eye. “She’s an absolute godsend.” 

“No divine intervention was involved whatsoever, Dr. DeMarco.” Hannibal smiled to himself and brought a glass of champagne to his lips. “She is a woman of her own making."

"Oh, we all know that's not entirely true." The woman snapped, slipping into passive-aggression. She glanced at Hannibal. "How much are you spending on this mouthy little know-it-all? Isn't it about $80k a year?"

You, of course, brought this on yourself. You threw down the gauntlet by going after this girlboss's side hustle, so now nothing was off-limits.

"I wouldn't worry about that, Mrs. DeMarco." Hannibal said, calmly. "My soon-to-be wife's education is a much better investment than that overpriced napalm you wear on your wrist."

You couldn't help but laugh at that. It was a laugh you shared with the man. Hannibal looked down at you, admiring how your face lit up.

"You'll forgive my wife's rudeness." The man requested. "Please, Ms. [F/N], tell me more about your dissertation."

"Well," you laced your fingers together. "I'm planning to write my dissertation on the cult of academic elitism."

"I would tread lightly, dear." The woman warned, eyes darting to Hannibal. "You wouldn't want to bite the hand that feeds you."

You adjusted your stole, giving them a quick glance at the love bites along your neck.

"I assure you." You said. "He quite likes it when I bite."

Your clutch started to aggressively, audibly vibrate. You could have sworn you'd put your phone on silent, but it buzzed nonetheless.

"Probably just, y'know-" you stuttered, embarrassed. "An amber alert or something."

"We are expecting a snowstorm, I believe. I was warned of it a few minutes ago." Hannibal said, always ready to cover your ass whenever needed. The couple nodded along in understanding.

You pulled your phone from your clutch. Your eyes widened and your face turned sickly pale at the sight of a caller you thought you’d never hear from again. Without thinking, you slid the deny icon across the screen. 

“Right.” You said, tucking your phone and your secrets back into the clutch. “Winter Storm... Theresa is headed this way.” 

Hannibal cleared his throat. “In that case, [F/N] and I must take our leave before we get snowed in. It was very nice catching up with you. I will see to it that [F/N] and I have you for dinner very soon.” 

[imagineyourworld]

Rockstar AU

Hunter x Genderneutral!Reader (Cinderella Story)  Wrecker x Genderneutral!Reader (Love at First Sight)  Tech x Genderneutral!Reader (Enemies to Lovers)  Crosshair x Genderneutral!Reader (Second Chance Romance) Echo x Genderneutral!Reader (Friends to Lovers) 

Warnings: Slight bit of language, mean fans in the last one 

Hunter

Hunter would for sure be the lead singer

He’d be the one most people simp for, including your friends 

The same friends who dragged you to the concert, and the same friends who abandoned you the next day because they just had to spend the afternoon at the bands known hang out spot to try to meet one of them 

Little did they know that Hunter wasn’t there that afternoon, in fact he had the same plans as you, to spend the day aimlessly wandering the city streets, a new city for you, one you’re just visiting for a few days, and a new home for him, one he still needs to familiarize himself with 

You exist a small café, where you had just gotten yourself a drink, when you first met. In real movie meet cute style you walked right into him and spilled your drink all over his shirt, and the light grey material did little to hide the stains 

“I am so, so sorry”, you said over and over again as you began to search for bag for a tissue to wipe off the worst of it. To your surprise he just chuckled. It was a low and raspy sound, one that sounded somewhat familiar. Only when you stopped your search and actually looked at him did you realize why you knew that chuckle, it was the one your friends had shown you over and over again in a ton of different videos. Just your luck, that you didn’t just spill your drink on anyone, it had to be Hunter from The Bad Batch. 

“I gotta say, this is a new way of meeting fans.”  You raised your eyebrow at his words.  “Who said I was a fan?”  There ist was again, that chuckle. Even though you told yourself that it didn’t affect you, you were only human and couldn’t deny that Hunter was incredibly attractive.  “The look in your eyes. It’s alright, I get it all the time.”  You scoffed. Who did he think he was? He was a singer, not some god.  Based on the expression now overshadowing his face that wasn’t the reaction he had been hoping for. 

You apologized once more, even offered to buy him a new shirt, before you made your goodbye and tried to walk past him.  Hunter’s hand on your wrist stopped you. To be honest, you were a second away from janking your wrist from his grasp and asking him who he thought he was, a question that wouldn’t stop running around in your head.  “Before you go, how about you buy me a coffee? You do kinda owe me for ruining my shirt”, he said. Though his words were arrogant, it was his kind, almost joking, tone and the hopeful expression in his eyes that made a small smile appear on your face.  “I don’t know, what’s in it for me?”, you asked, trying to match his tone.  Hunter just shrugged.  “At the very least an interesting conversation.”

Of course it wasn’t the conversation that made you agree, not at first at least. But it did turn out to be good. So good that it made you forget who you were actually talking to, and good enough that by the end you even gave Hunter your number.

When he texted just half an hour after you parted ways, asking you whether you wanted to have dinner the next day, you realized that you would have a lot of explaining to do with your friends. 

Wrecker 

I don’t know why, but I feel like Wrecker might be the guitarist. 

Other than Hunter I don’t think Wrecker would have the biggest fan base, but his fans would be the most dedicated and loyal 

Wrecker would be most likely to date a fan. While he might not be looking for a romantic partner amongst the fans, he does try a bit of flirting here and there if someone catches his eye. 

That’s actually how the two of you met. You had been saving to buy tickets for the concert and the following meet and greet and ever since Wrecker saw you in line his eyes had been glued to you.  “You’re not exactly subtle, you know”, Tech told his brother as he followed his stare.  Wrecker nudged him with his shoulder, which made Tech stumble a bit due to his strength. That’s when he heard it, the one sound that was better than music in his ears.  “That’s not very nice”, you told him with a sly grin. 

Honestly, you had no idea where you were getting your sudden confidence from. You were standing right in front of The Bad Batch and yet here you were, making a joke. 

Embarrassment coursed through Wrecker’s veins, making him rub the back of his head nervously.  “I know. It’s... a bad habit”, he finally admitted.  It was your laugh that told him you weren’t really mad or scolding him at all, and without thought he joined in. Your laugh, if possible, sounded even more beautiful than your voice. 

“What’s your name?”, he asked.  You told him, a small blush making its way to your cheeks. Of course you had expected the band to be friendly, but never in your wildest dreams did you ever imagine Wrecker being this kind. And if you weren’t mistaken he was even flirting with you. But that couldn’t be, right? He must have thousands who flirt with him every day, why would he be interested in you of all people?  “(Y/N)”, you told him.  After his next action there was no doubt left in your mind that he actually was flirting.  “(Y/N), Wrecker repeated as he lifted your hand to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles.  You didn’t know what to focus on. His soft lips on your skin, the way your hand felt and looked so much smaller in his big hand, or the way he said your name. 

Leave it to Tech to interrupt your little moment.  “You need to move it along, there are others waiting”, he informed his brother.  Of course he was right, of course you shouldn’t expect Wrecker to continue to talk to you when there were others waiting for his attention. But little did you know that letting you go was something Wrecker wouldn’t dream off. “This thing ends in half an hour. If you want to, you don’t have to but if you want to, you can wait for me in the lobby of the Park Hotel in about an hour and we’ll continue this conversation, (Y/N).” 

Part of you knew that there was the possibility that he was only looking for a one night stand, but the bigger part told you that Wrecker was genuinely interested in your company. It was that part that made you agree. And you were so glad you did, because the rest of the night spend with Wrecker couldn’t have been better. Apparently he felt the same, because just before you left he slipped a small note with his number in your pocket. 

Tech

The usual instrument for a band might be drums, but I cannot imagine Tech playing the drums. A keyboard however? That’s so Tech. 

I can’t see Tech dating a fan, but a fellow musician would be a dream come true! There is just one slight issue... 

“I can’t stand that guy! He never stops talking, every time he opens his mouth I just wanna punch his stupid glasses right into his eyes”, you grunted.  Tech had been about to round the corner, in his hands he had the setlist you had requested for your band, which was opening for The Bad Batch.  Now, after hearing those words and realizing that the friendship the two of you had been building had all been fake, that Tech had been right in trying to shove his developing feelings down, he just threw the pieces of paper in front of your feet.  “There”, he grumbled before turning around and leaving again.  You shot your friend, who you had been talking to, a confused look. 

Your band opened for The Bad Batch for a couple more shows before you parted ways. They went back to recording, while you had your first solo tour, which went incredibly well, since only a year later you reunited at a music festival where both bands were asked to play. 

“God, Wrecker, did you grow?”, you laughed while Wrecker enveloped you in a hug and lifted you a few feet into the air.  “I think I’m a bit too old to continue growing, but who knows”, he replied with a grin.  Tech tried his best not to roll his eyes. How could his brothers still be friendly with you? Wasn’t it obvious to them how much you hated him? Wasn’t blood thicker than water?  You moved away from Wrecker to greet Tech next. Your previously joyous smile growing nervous, but it still ignited something Tech wanted to put out.  “Hey, long time no see”, you started. You reached out to touch his shoulder, but before you could Tech took a step backwards, knocking over Hunter’s water bottle.  Tech saw this as his way of escape and quickly offered to get a new one, though Hunter, who knew what he was up to, shook his head.  “Take (Y/N) with you, they know the location better and can show you around.”  Tech wanted to disagree, he really did, but he knew there was no use in arguing with Hunter shortly before the concert. 

You did show Tech around, at least a little bit. You even tried to chat as best as you could, but his answers were reduced to “yes” and “no”, if he even gave you an answer that is.  Finally you reached a small supply closet in which you knew most of the snacks and drinks were kept.  “They have your favourite chocolate, I checked the second I heard you guys were showing up”, you told Tech with a smile, hoping at least your shared love for chocolate would break the ice. It didn’t.  What did break a second later, almost as soon as Tech followed you into the small room, was the door.  With a loud bang it closed behind Tech, and no matter how hard the two of you pushed or pulled, it wouldn’t budge. 

“What now?”, you asked, chewing on a piece of said chocolate.  Tech was just shoving his phone back in his pocket.  “I texted the others, one of them should come around with maintenance in a few minutes.” A moment of silence followed.  “Hey, Tech”, you started softly, nervously. “Why do you hate me?”  Finally Tech tore his eyes away from the water in his hands and looked at you, really looked at you.  “I didn’t hate you until I found out that you hate me. I still don’t hate you, no matter how hard I try-” The last part was mumbled, so quiet you almost didn’t catch it, but you did.  “I don’t hate you! Why would you think that? God, Tech, I was starting to fall in love with you during your last tour, but then you suddenly got all cold and never talked to me.”  This made Tech raise his eyebrow. He ran a hand through his hair and avoided eye contact.  “You were?”, he asked, his voice soft before it suddenly hardened again. “Then why did you tell your friend that you wanna punch me?”  Confusion and realization chased each other across your face, finally it dawned on you.  “Tech, you idiot, I wasn’t talking about you, I was talking about my neighbour.”  He opened his mouth and closed it again.  “Oh... So, you don’t hate me?”  You shook your head. “In fact, I’d like to take you out to dinner. As a date. If you’d like.”  Of course Tech said yes, there was lost time to catch up on after all. 

Crosshair 

Crosshair might play the drums, it gives him an opportunity to be in the background (and let all his aggressions out)

The two of you had been dating for only a few weeks when he left the band. Afterwards he told you that he needed a bit of space, wanted to be alone for a while. You weren’t exactly happy, but you understood, though when he still hasn’t reached out to you after almost two months you decided to give him a call, only to find out that his number had been disconnected. 

It wasn’t until a couple of years later that the two of you met again. It was actually your friend who pointed Crosshair out in the crowded café and encouraged you to talk to him, to find out why he had ghosted you instead of simply breaking up.  

“Why did you ghost me instead of simply breaking up with me?”, you opened, having stolen your friend’s exact words.  Crosshair, with sunglasses and the usual toothpick between his teeth, looked up from his phone. His face didn’t betray any emotions, but you knew him well enough to recognize a hint of shock in his eyes.  “What are you doing here?”  You didn’t answer, instead you pulled up the chair opposite of his and sat down at his table.  “I asked you first.”  There it was, that laugh you had first learned to love and later to hate. It wasn’t a mocking or cruel laugh, instead it reminded you of his reaction whenever you would do something he found cute.  “How old are you?  You rested your elbows on the table and glared at him, a look that you knew from experience was one of the few things to truly make him uncomfortable.  “Old enough to be tired of your bullshit. Now answer my question.” 

Crosshair had never been a man of many words, his answer just proved that all over again.  “I wanted to start my new life without any baggage from the old one.”  Even though you had been hurt after the initial breakup, you considered yourself to be stronger because of it and over Crosshair, but his statement hit you hard.  “Is that what I was? Baggage?”  Finally he reached up to take the sunglasses off and really look at you. You hated the part of your brain that thought that he still looked good, and as if this conversation didn’t affect him at all.  “You didn’t let me finish. I never thought of you as baggage, but you were a connection to my old life, my old band, that I couldn’t take with me into my new life. But I soon realized that I made a mistake, you were more than a connection, it only occured to me after it was too late that I loved you.” 

To say you were shocked was the understatement of the century. Of course you had liked Crosshair, but even back then you couldn’t say whether you were actually in love with him.  “I know I messed up, but maybe we could meet for dinner and try again.”  Those were the last words from the longest monologue you had ever heard him speak. Crosshair put his sunglasses on again and left without another word, though he did leave something behind. You picked the piece of paper up and realized that he had given you his new number, the number you would only have to call to rekindle your relationship, but was that what you really wanted after what he did? 

Echo 

No doubt, Echo plays the base. It’s the backbone of a band and often underestimated, just like Echo. 

The poor guy’s start with The Bad Batch wasn’t the easiest, he joined the band shortly before Crosshair left and many fans thought he was the reason behind the split (which of course he wasn’t, but you know fans). Needless to say that this resulted in some trust issues. 

You had been working for the band for what felt like ages, basically from the very beginning and the second you met Echo you were intrigued. It took a bit of time, but he finally started to open up to you and now the two of you were good friends, you were actually one of the few friends Echo had outside of the band. 

Though one day your friendship was put to the test.  You were backstage, in Echo’s private room, which on itself wasn’t unusual, you spend more time with him than any other band members. What was unusual, and made Echo stop in the doorway, was the fact that you were going through his mail.  “What are you doing?”, he asked, not yet angry, but not exactly calm either.  He could have sworn that you actually jumped in shock before you turned to face him, guilt written all over you.  “Echo, I was just...”  “Going through my mail?”, he finished the sentence for you.  You knew there was no use in lying, so you simply nodded.  “Why?” 

The million dollar question, to which you knew the answer would hurt Echo, and possibly your relationship.  “I was looking for fan mail.”  A gentle smile was now on Echo’s lips. He stepped closer to you, so close that he could take the envelope you were holding out of your hand.  “You’re doing a terrific job, but I don’t think you get any fan mail, especially not send to my room.”  As if to prove his point he opened the first envelope and started reading. At first his expression didn’t change, then it darkened. Before he could finish you ripped the piece of paper away and threw it in a far corner of the room.  “Is that what you were looking for? Hate mail?”  You knew there was no sense in denying it any longer.  “I’ve been trying to hide it from you, but you get a lot of letters like that. Everyone gets them once in a while, but ever since Crosshair left it’s been a lot.” Echo’s eyes flitted from your face to the letters you were still holding in your hand.  “You’ve been doing that all this time? Why?”  For some reason the obvious shock and disbelief in his voice broke you more than any words directed at him ever had.  “I don’t want you to take what those idiots say to heart. You... You’re perfect just the way you are”, you told him, whispering the last part.  Echo stepped even closer to you, so close that you could feel his body heat through both of your clothes. So close that you had to lift your head to continue looking him in the eyes.  Slowly Echo took your chin in his hand, his thumb caressing your jaw. The other hand found its way around your waist and you cold feel the cold prosthetic through your thin shirt.  “I think you’re perfect as well”, he whispered.  Your eyes widened at his words. He had heard you, and he thought you were perfect. Perfect!  “Echo, I-”, you started, but he interrupted you.  “Since we’re both perfect, maybe we’d be perfect for each other.” A blush crept up his neck as he said those words. You reached up to wrap your arms around the reddening skin.  “Maybe we could find out over dinner tonight.”  Echo smiled at you, a smile that made you question how anyone could hate him for what had to be the millionth time.  “I’d like that”, he said as he leaned his forehead against yours. 

-------

This AU just popped into my head and I had to write it down. At first I wanted to make the 501st a band, but I wasn’t quite sure what to do with Anakin and Ahsoka in that scenario, but then it occured to me that the Bad Batch as a band would fit even better, I hope you agree. 

[lucywrites02]

Chapter 5: Frozen in time

Main Masterlist | The great escape Masterlist

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Updates every Tuesday

A/N: Sorry for not posting this chapter last week. I wanted to take a break from writing to focus on some other things. But I did post the prologue of my new series "From the bottom of my heart" which you can find here.

Pairing: (he/she/they) Loki x gn! Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: none yet

Series summary: You finally got the chance to escape the TVA but nothing ever goes according to plan when the god of mischief is around.

Chapter Summary: Living on a run with a god of mischief isn't easy, but you somehow manage to do it. After a long talk with the goddess you come to the conclusion that this Loki isn't the same person who caused you pain in the past. It's a turning point in your relationship.

Tag list: @twhiddlestonsstuff @dreamingyouth @xladyxfatex @castiels-majestic-wings @lokistan @amwolowicz  @cozy-the-overlord ​ @whatafuckingdumbass   @electroma89 ​ @dpaccione @silver-lupines @poetic-fiasco @lokitrashfan @weirdfangirl2416 @rorybutnotgilmore @the-emo-asgardian @wolfish-trickster @serpentargo @darkacademicfrom2021 @imnotrevealingmyname @nyx2021 @theaudacitytowrite @high-functioning-lokipath @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @funsized-mimi @aliiiyyaaah @handmaiden-of-mischief @bouffantofdoom

“It looks like a cat.” You said, pointing at the clouds. It was late at night, but there were some perks of having not one, but two moons orbiting the planet. It wasn’t even a full moon and the amount of light those two celestial bodies were reflecting was brighter than any full moon you have seen on earth. 

Loki chuckled, trying to find that imaginary cat of yours in the sky. “I don’t see it.”

“Oh come on. It’s over there.” You frowned. “Right next to the chocolate chip cookie!”

“I have no idea what that is…” The goddess replied and you looked at her as if she was crazy. “I assume it’s a cookie with chocolate on it, but I’ve never had it.”

“You’re messing with me, aren’t you?” You watched your companion carefully, trying to find any signs of mischief, but found none. The trickster shook their head and you were dumbfounded. “Oh my lord, you’re telling the truth.”

“Why would I lie about that?” They asked, clearly amused by your reaction.

You giggled and turned your head to look at the sky again. “I don’t know. It’s just weird to hear that someone has never had a cookie. I will have to make some for you one day.”

Loki didn’t respond, but her mind played your last sentence over and over again. It shouldn’t have been so surprising to Loki that someone proposed to make something for them, but it was. Maybe you meant it as a joke; maybe you were genuine. No matter which version was true, the goddess felt an unfamiliar warmth in her chest. The circumstances in which you two met weren’t ideal, but the trickster hoped you could be good friends one day. You were fun to be around. 

“I can see it now.” Loki spoke.

“Can see what?”

“The cat.” They smirked, focusing their sight on the night sky. “I mean the cloud. If you turn your head to the left at a 45° angle and close your right eye it kind of looks like a weird, mutated version of a cat who was hit by a meteor.”

Loki’s expression was all serious and professional as if she was explaining some complicated topic to you and it made you laugh. Wheeze would be a better word to describe the sound that came out of your mouth though. That’s all you’ve been doing the whole night to be honest.

“The wind moved the clouds, you asshat!” You playfully smacked their shoulder and pouted your lip, trying to look disappointed, but you couldn’t stop your smile. 

“Of all the insults in your language you chose to call me that?” The goddess sassed. “You could do better.”

“It’s late, okay?!” You said and realized that it was indeed very late. And yet neither of you felt the need to go back inside. “I can’t think after my bedtime.”

“You can go. I will sit here a bit longer.” Your companion didn’t mean to keep awake for so long. Although it was nice to finally be able to talk with someone. Loki wanted it to last just a few minutes longer. And norns really listened to her prayers because you just shook your head saying it was fine and that you weren’t really tired. The trickster felt….relieved. It was silly. Sad if you think about it. Loki never had friends and then you came and you don’t even like them that much, but you paid attention to her and Loki really needed it. To anyone else it would sound narcissistic and bizarre, but Loki couldn’t help it. They needed to interact with people even if those people didn’t like their company. 

Loki was conflicted. Were they a bad person for craving attention? Did she want a friend or just the attention? It was hard to say. The trickster never had time to think about what she wanted. It’s ironic, really. 

“Are you okay?” You asked and put your hand on Loki’s shoulder. The god flinched and seemed to snap out of their thoughts. You quickly let go of them, your concerns growing with every second. The sudden breeze made you shiver, but you decided to pay no attention to that.

“I’m sorry, I was just….thinking.”

“Is it about your nightmare?” You didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, but maybe Loki just needed some closure. She was damaged and even though you didn’t trust your partner in crime you still had some empathy for them.  

“Yes and no.” Was the answer. Normally the trickster would never tell anyone about the horrors of their mind, but at this point she just didn’t care anymore. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it didn’t feel right either. You were the same when it came to dealing with your feelings. Always trying to act like nothing bothers you while your soul is slowly dying.

“I have nightmares, too.” You confessed, not really thinking about it. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Loki shifted her body to get more comfortable. This conversation went from silly to serious really quickly. “I feel like it might be my fault. I know that I wronged you in some way and I’m terribly sorry for that.”

You took a deep breath, roaming through your head to find the right words. Picking at your hands, you continued, “I- got really hurt during the whole New York thing and it just stuck with me.” Your fingers ghosted over the scar on your leg, invisible to Loki’s eye because of your clothes. The battle of New York was traumatising, but nothing could ever prepare you for what came after. You thought that Loki at least deserved to know why you act the way you do.

“New York?” The goddess whispered to herself, desperately trying to forget about it. Her eyes focused on the nearest star, avoiding any eye contact with you. The trickster tightly clenched their jaw and their heart almost burst out of the goddess' chest. You mistook Loki’s reaction for confusion and drew your own conclusions.

“You never were in New York, were you?” Your companion didn’t answer out of fear, but you thought that they really had no idea what you were talking about. You were now convinced that this Loki had nothing to do with the battle and its consequences. Loki didn't even want to correct you. If you don't know maybe you truly will become friends? And not only two people who are running for their lives with no plan. It was wrong and Loki knew that, but how bad could it be? 

"No…" They lied. Everyone would expect the god of lies to be good at it, but they were wrong. Loki was good at hiding the truth, but those were two different things. "I assume it was something really bad." She continued and swallowed heavily as if it could ease her nerves. The goddess will explain everything to you later. They will tell you everything- Bifrost, Thanos, New York. But for now they had to pretend  

"Oh, yeah…" You fiddled with the hem of your shirt, feeling both embarrassed and ashamed. You shouldn't have treated Loki the way you did. It was terrible of you. You suspected that your Loki was different from the Loki from New York from the way she behaves, but you still treated her badly. It wasn’t the best decision, but you couldn’t help it. It was your defense mechanism. "I'd rather not talk about that. It was- it really damaged me." You explained, giving the god a nervous smile. "I'm so sorry I blamed you. It's just- you're Loki and that person was Loki, too and-" Deep breath. A sigh. "I took my anger on an innocent Loki." 

This was almost too much for the trickster. They felt so bad for you at that moment. She remembered everything that happened while she was under the control of The Other, but not you. Loki never saw you on the streets, in any building or at the tower. It made the whole situation even worse. She hurt you before even knowing you. And you were now feeling bad for blaming the "wrong" variant. 

"It’s alright." The goddess cleared her throat, desperately wanting to change the subject. "That version of me sounds like a total asshat, by the way, attacking an innocent city and all."

You giggled again, knowing perfectly well that your companion used this word on purpose and shivered when another blow of wind touched your skin. Your hands run up and down your arms and shoulders to warm yourself up, but it didn’t seem to help. 

You felt something weighing on your shoulders and noticed a green blanket. It was warm and fuzzy. You liked it. Turning your head around you looked at Loki, whose eyes were still focused on the sky and smiled softly. You offered to share the blanket with them, but the god said they weren’t cold. Which was odd, considering that Loki only wore that ugly TVA shirt with the sleeves rolled up all the way to the elbows. You didn’t question it though- more blanket for you.

Neither of you wanted this moment to end. You have finally found your safe space and for once you really didn't care about the TVA.

--------

"Okay, so we could totally use the tempad to go back to the TVA and get those files." You said and sat down at the excuse of a dining table that was in the living room.The light of dawn seeped into the living room through the broken window. Rubbing your eyes, you tried to force your body to wake up faster. The chair you were sitting on could break any moment from now and you had to remind yourself to not squirm too much. 

Loki tsk-ed. He put down the kettle with tea and handed you an empty mug. There wasn't a lot of food in your area so you and Loki decided to use the tempad to travel to Midgard every time you needed to take care of your supplies. Now you have bandaids, just in case, and food that isn't only fruit. That was a nice change. 

You and Loki made a great team. You were surprisingly good together. And moments like this one felt so… domestic. You liked it. 

"Theoretically, yes," the god said and took a bite of his sandwich. Norns, it was so good to finally be able to taste more flavours. "But we will have only one shot. The TVA is looking for us and the other variant so when we go back  we have to make sure our plan works."

“But that’s the thing!” You sighed loudly and poured some tea in your mug. You looked at Loki and picked up the teakettle again with a silent question. The god nodded and thanked you as the hot liquid filled their mug, too. “We have no idea where the time-keepers are. We need those files.”

“I tried to get them once,” your companion huffed. “They won’t just give them to you. I am sure those files aren’t even in the archives. We would have to use Miss Minutes to find them.”

You cringed at the mention of that name. This freaking clock was everywhere in the TVA and it scared the shit out of you. She is creepy. Whoever made her must have really hated other people because she is terrifying! There’s nothing cute about her. You would think that people would use a cute mascot to promote their propaganda, but nope. Inflicting pain on the employees was TVA's thing.

You’ve been discussing your plan with Loki for weeks now and you still had nothing.

“What if we can’t do anything?” You asked and took the last bite of your sandwich. 

“”What do you mean?”

“You can’t use your powers in the TVA. We know nothing about the time-keepers. We have no weapons-”

“I have my daggers.”

“And they have those weird pruning sticks!” You yelled. “I’m sorry. It’s just really frustrating…”

Loki stood up and slowly walked to you. Putting his hands on your shoulder, the god smiled at you. You took it as a sign and put your arms around their waist. You and Loki developed some sort of your own language and knew pretty well when the other needed to be comforted. It’s been years since you had a connection like that with another person. 

You were glad that your Loki turned out to be someone else. You would never let him anywhere near you if he was the same person who attacked New York and you realized that you had to stop making assumptions about others. Communication was the key and it was really important, especially when you plan on killing the most powerful creatures in the entire universe.

Loki on the other hand was filled with guilt. They really liked you and hoped to become friends, but he lied to you and was still playing along. If everything goes well  maybe Loki will never have to tell you the truth. But there was this unpleasant feeling deep down in their heart that screamed 'tragedy' and it was hard to ignore that inner voice which surprisingly sounded a lot like you. Loki thought nothing of it, but he really wanted to explain everything to you. The god trusted you. You were a good person and you will understand why Loki did what they did.

“We don’t have to do it.” The trickster whispered. His hands were moving up and down your back, hoping you would find it calming. 

“What do you mean?” You mumbled, your face squished against his belly.

“We can just…. Stay here. Forget about the TVA. Live our lives.”

You moved your head up to have a better look at your companion, but no words could leave your mouth. You thought about it before, but never said it out loud, thinking it would be selfish. But now….. The idea of staying here forever seemed promising. You and your friend in this little cabin, travelling through space and time together to do some shopping every now and then…

No. You couldn’t do that. You had to avenge the version of yourself that was erased from the timeline. That person deserves another chance at life and never got it because of the ‘sacred timeline’. You didn’t matter anymore, but they? You can still save them.

“We owe it to ourselves.” You replied with a shaky voice. “ I don’t want anyone to experience what we have. People need to have free will. They deserve it.”

“Oh, it was just an idea, but yes. You are right.” Loki knew it was going to be hard. That you were going to struggle a lot until you could pay your last visit in the TVA. “Sorry.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I was thinking about it, too.” You hugged your friend again, squeezing his sides a little bit tighter. “But this isn’t a life. I want to go to concerts, watch TV. Damnit, I wanna go back to work and make money that I can spend on useless things while my roommate judges me for it.”

“Then let’s do it. Let’s get our lives back.”

The silence that has fallen between you was really getting to Loki. The god pulled away, patting your head and started cleaning up after breakfast while you went upstairs to change into some normal clothes you got during your last trip. Your routine has changed a lot since that night after Loki's first nightmare. Maybe it’s because you didn’t see him as an enemy anymore. Right now the trickster was someone on the friend spectrum and it made things a lot easier. You wake up first and prepare breakfast. Loki makes tea and cleans up after the meal and every three days you go ‘shopping’. Loki makes dinner and you clean up after. It was a fair system. Some days you would go on a walk and explore the area. Loki proposed to teach you how to throw knives, but you weren’t sure if it was a good idea. But you liked to watch him do it. The god was really skilled and you admired that.

All of the dishes were clean when you appeared in the kitchen. Your friend was writing something down in the notebook you brought from one of your shopping trips. The trickster made a system of sorts. They remembered some apocalyptic events on Midgard when Mobius made them look through some files and used that knowledge. And so you always wrote down the name of the shop, place, time and what you took from there. Even though the TVA couldn’t track you, you still had to stay safe. 

"Ready to go?" You asked. Loki turned the notebook around for you to read what they wrote and took two quite big bags from the drawer.

"Ready."

---------

Walking down the cereal aisle, Loki put some boxes into the bag and called your name. You had a tendency to wander off every time you went to get food. The god sighed, knowing perfectly well where he could find you. He made his way to the aisle with books and saw you sitting on the ground, surrounded by novels with a plushie in your lap.

The trickster cleared their throat as loud as they possibly could. The book you had in your hand went flying which made your friend laugh.

“What the hell, Loki?!” You whispered aggressively.

“I could ask you the same question.” The trickster said, gesturing at the mess around you. “We agreed to take only the most important things.” 

You stood up with the frog plushie in your hands and gave Loki the best puppy eyes you could make. The god could now see three pots of plants that were laying on the ground behind you. He knew you won’t leave without fighting for all this stuff. 

“I know, but can I just-”

“We have only two bags and it’s for food.”

“But Mr Ribbit-”

“You named the toy?”

“Mr Ribbit and I have developed a deep and meaningful connection.” You said, hugging the frog. “Don’t you dare separate us.”

Loki took a deep breath and massaged the bridge of their nose with his thumb and middle finger. “Why would you even want it?”

“I just-” You were embarrassed to say it. Your smile turned into a frown. “I...get lonely at night.” 

The god looked up at the ceiling and gestured for you to come with them. “Just take him.”

Your expression changed at the speed of light and there was that precious smile on your face again. You kneeled to pick up some books and those three plants and somehow balanced it all in your hands.

“Only the-” the trickster wanted to stop you, but he didn’t have the heart to do it. Taking the second bag out of their space pocket, the god opened it for you. “Put it here.”

Loki tried to maintain a serious face, but your excitement quickly made that mask disappear. 

“Thank you!!!!!” You giggled, giving your friend a little kiss on the cheek and took the bag from him. “Those plants will look amazing in our living room!!!”

--------

Our. That word stuck with Loki for the next few hours. He was sitting on the floor in the office, reading one of the books you took from the store. The trickster should be asleep by now, but the guilt was still too strong. At first he felt bad for lying to you about New York, but as the time passed the feeling turned into fright. You were slowly becoming good friends and Loki was afraid that once the truth is out you will hate him. And Loki isn’t sure if they can handle another rejection. They thought about telling you during dinner, but something stopped them. Where was the silvertongue when he needed it?

Defeated, Loki put the book down on the small wooden desk and laid on the sofa, trying to relax. But nothing seemed to work. The god must have made too much noise because soon you were in the room, Mr Ribbit in your arms. 

“Are you okay?” You asked in your sleepy voice. 

“I- yeah. I just can’t sleep.” Loki answered with a yawn. 

“Is there anything I can do for you? Some tea?” Your proposition warmed their heart. But Loki didn’t deserve your kindness.

“No, thank you. I guess I will stay up longer. Stash all the food, books and plants in my ‘magic pockets’,” your companion said, making the citation quote sign with his fingers. “We don’t want them to be destroyed.”

You noticed how much the god was moving to find a good position to sleep in. Biting your lip you wondered if he would be comfortable sharing a bed with you. Just for tonight. Or any other night if they wanted to.

“That sofa seems to be very uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind it.” The god said and wiggled again, hoping to find a good spot on this dreadful furniture.

“You could sleep in the bed.” You whispered without thinking twice.

“With you?”

“We can put pillows between us.” You clarified.

“If you’re okay with that?” The god wanted to make sure he wasn’t about to overstep any boundaries.

“Of course I am. You’re not a stranger anymore and I trust you.”

The god didn't want to argue with you and walked to the other room, taking his pillow and blanket with him. You put up your cushion wall in the middle of the bed and gestured for your friend to lay down.

Loki still couldn’t fall asleep, but this time the mattress wasn’t stabbing his back.

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[missyasf]

Game Of Hearts

| 3 |  

↳ Summary: Your life is in monotonous tones of grey, day in, day out. Nothing matters besides your sister, the only thing you remember is seeing fireworks before waking up to Tokyo abandoned . Soon enough you are properly introduced to the deadly Borderlands where you must fight for your life in Games to survive. When things can’t possibly get worse soon division arises and rivalries are made. No matter what though, you are constantly plagued by a blonde who, no matter how hard you try, just can’t seem to go too far without.

↳ Pairing: Chishiya/Reader

↳ Genre: Angst, smut, thriller

Word Count: 9.5k

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Trigger Warning: ⚠️ much like the manga/Netflix adaptation this will be a dark fic which includes mentions of prostitution, attempted murder, child ab*se, sexual harassment, heavy grief and attempted suic*de among other things. Additional warnings will be added for chapters when triggers are brought up. Please read with caution if these are triggers for you or just skip all together! 

3rd Day Sojourn 

“Looks like we got a smartass here don’t we?” 

You felt torn on whether to intervene or not. Chishiya, was by no means a hero or a prince charming. You didn’t need to know him to know he was going to be the last person to save you out of good will. Not like you needed saving regardless but you couldn’t help but wonder what his motive was. 

Chishiya still had that cold smirk on his face, as if extremely amused at the furious Niragi you had held him up by the jacket, even face to face he not once had a change in expression, as if he just genuinely didn’t care about whatever Niragi felt. 

“Probably because I am smarter than you.” Chishiya lifted his chin a little a devious icy smile on his lips like he was getting a rise out of the way Niragi simmered and growled at him, his hands tightening around his jacket and you were briefly worried if Chishiya didn’t shut up that he was going to be beat into a pulp. No matter how smart he was, he couldn’t outwit his way from getting throat punched. Although...you wouldn’t deny a secret part of you would find that mildly funny. You also wanted to throat punch him on certain occasions. 

“I believe that’s enough Niragi.” Everyone paused at the sight of someone new arriving, Ryu had gotten out of the pool to stand next to you and Hiroko as he whispered, “That’s number three, Kuzuryuu. He often keeps everyone in their place when Hatter isn’t around.” 

Niragi stuck his tongue as he began to cackle, letting go of Chishiya. Breathing in relief you relaxed a little as everyone did the same. Just within a split second though you could hardly comprehend the sight of Niragi immediately decking Chishiya right across the jaw who was knocked off balance. People were already intervening as you stood there gaping. You didn’t think Niragi would actually punch him. 

You had thought Chishiya’s expression would’ve changed but much to your disbelief it was as if he was even more settled into his resolve, grabbing his jaw as a viscous smile appeared on his lips, spitting out blood as he goaded, “So you agree then? Anyone with half a brain would be able to reply instead of resort to violence.” 

Did this man really wanna die on his first day in the Beach? 

Niragi was pulled away and back to his group with steam practically pouring out of his ears, attempting to get back to Chishiya before he was yanked back by perhaps the most physically intimidating man you had ever seen, “That’s number 2, Agni, the leader of the militant sect.” Hiroko clarified to you but it fell on deaf ears as you hurried over to Chishiya, now feeling immensely bad that regardless of his intentions he was hurt for what? Gloating? Was his ego truly that big, “God are you insane!?” You cried out in a whisper kneeling down, your maternal instincts on overdrive as you grabbed his face immediately checking for any bruising. 

Chishiya almost like a cat that didn’t want to be touched pulled away from your grip unappreciative, “I don’t like annoying or stupid people.” He replied immediately, his eyes leering ungratefully, “And he was ruining a perfectly good day for me. If you think I’d care for someone like you then you’re more delusional then you look. Besides it’s just blood, it’ll go stop.” 

Ouch.

You rolled your eyes at him deciding to not take his words to heart though a tiny part of you wondered if he only said that due to the conversation you both had last night. Or maybe he just really didn’t care. Regardless it didn’t matter, “He had a fucking rifle!” You whispered angrily, “I get it, we aren’t best friends but I don’t wanna see you get shot you asshole.” 

“We aren’t friends at all,” Chishiya replied coolly, his eyes analytical and calculating, his gaze like ice that glared you down as if you were his new target for a reason unknown, “We aren’t even acquaintances. We’re just strangers and I’d prefer to keep it that way. I don’t need your concern or care, so stay out of my way.” 

You felt thoroughly indignant at his words as you clenched your jaw, “You know what? I doubt you’ve ever had anyone care for you and I can see why. I hope he hits you harder next time you jerk.” This man drove you utterly insane! And you couldn’t even understand why. Chishiya was so cold and for no reason…! 

Walking back to your pool chair you snatched your shorts, “Y/n…! Y/n! Are you okay!?” Nanami hurried to your side, you had forgotten all about your sister being in full range of the horror show she had just finished watching between you and Niragi. Probably too scared to try and intervene and you didn’t blame her. Had it been anyone else besides your sister in your shoes you would’ve kept to yourself as well. 

“I’m fine, I’d say you should check on Chishiya but apparently he doesn’t need anybody!” You flailed your arms before plopping down on the seat still mad, “What a…! A…! Pathetic, bitter way to live! He’s so conceited!” You curled your fists as you pulled your shorts up before buttoning them as you grabbed your sheer cover up jacket. 

Nanami frowned as she grabbed her hands, “Well…” You whipped around in anger, silently staring at her, just daring her to try and come up with some excuse for this guy. Nanami, was a soft hearted person, she never wanted to judge a book by it’s cover and always gave the benefit of the doubt. You admired that about her, but you sometimes wished she was a bit more….realistic with people, “I’m sure he’ll come around.” She decided to not pursue her original words as she offered a weak smile. 

“You can deal with that if you want, but I’m done with him. Anytime I try to be relatively nice, I just get spit in the face.�� Huffing you crossed your arms, “I’m going on a walk.” And true to your words you did, you needed to be by yourself for a while to clear your head after what had all transpired just minutes ago. 

“Originally I helped run a ranch but I wanted to see all the sights so I moved out of my pops and came here to the city!” The music was loud in here and so many people were dancing, makeshift stripper poles had been made and honestly. You understood the Beach was supposed to be an escape, but that didn’t make it a bit of a pathetic sight to see people attempting to swing around and accidentally break it. Multiple times. 

You were currently sat at the table with Akari, Hiroko and Ryu everyone having a fairly good time and the longer you talked to Hiroko the less intimidating she became, “I don’t really remember much to be honest,” Akari scratched her head as she hummed, “Just that after I finished putting groceries up I saw fireworks out of my window.”

You straightened up in curiosity, you had seen the same thing! “Yeah we all did,” You slumped at Ryu’s words as he frowned, “Nobody can remember anything after seeing them except waking up here in the Borderlands.”

“What were you guys before this…?” You asked, not wanting to linger for long on just where you were, in a city that was a replica of Tokyo with only a handful of what? A hundred people, maybe a little more? You didn’t have the mindset right now to even try and grasp what was going on or what had happened. 

“I was a lawyer,” Hiroko answered first, her expression clearly proud and you’d imagine why, this meant she was older than you! “I did quite a bit of traveling around and dabbled in attorney work for awhile...That’s what my dad wanted me to go in as,” She rolled her eyes, “But I found I’m better at building a case.” 

Somehow...you weren’t surprised, you smiled regardless wrapping your arms around yourself, the more you talked to them the more comfortable you began to feel, “One morning I was late to getting to the courthouse and this idiot ended up spilling coffee on me,” Hiroko’s words may have been harsh but she looked Ryu with the softest expression you had ever seen her wear.

Obvious fondness in her eyes, “It was by chance he did that I like to think it was by fate I ended up meeting him again except he was behind the counter at the coffeeshop I always went too.” 

Ryu’s cheeks dusted pink as he gave an awkward smile, “I worked evening shifts but got switched over to mornings, best decision I ever made! I’m currently in my last year of college for being an art curator!” 

“A cure what now?” Akari cocked her head to the side and for some reason the three of you busted out laughing at her as she parted her lips, “Hey don’t laugh! I’m being serious! Is that some kind of professional coffee maker?” 

You closed your eyes giggling as you shook your head, “What about you Y/n? What were you before all of this?” You paused for a second at Hiroko’s question as the table quieted down, suddenly your memory swiped back to the night of the fireworks. What happened at work, how you were supposed to go to class the next day. How your night ended early.

“Ah…” You rubbed the back of your neck as you sheepishly smiled, unsure of where to even begin. It wasn’t that...you were ashamed of your work you just- felt often misunderstood by people. Anytime you said you were a sex worker you either recieved wild looks and suddenly you were treated lowly or people- men in particular would begin to send you uncomfortable innuendo’s. 

 “Ah…! Y/n!” You straightened up at the muffled screech that sounded like your sister as your eyes shot around the room only to find Nanami fumbling towards you with a whine, suddenly hiding behind you as you frowned standing up, “Good! Good! I’m glad you’re here!” She chuckled nervously as your expression contorted. 

“Where is that bitch!?” 

Oh...why did this seem vaguely familiar, “What did you do?” You hissed as you turned to Nanami as she rubbed her neck sheepishly only for you to whirl back around again at the sight of a raging woman, the most notable feature her breasts nearly spilling from her loose bikini top as she pointed an accusing finger at your sister, “Why don’t you stop being a slut trying to get with MY boyfriend and take it up with me!” 

“Nanami!” You hissed as she cowered behind you, her lips tugging into a pout as she poked both her pointer fingers together with a frown. You had an obligation as a big sister to at least try to defend her before feeding her to the wolves, “Maybe you should give that energy to your boyfriend...Wasn’t he the one supposed to stay loyal?” You raised your brows as you spoke. 

You shrieked as you ducked down, a beer bottle flying above you as the girl raged on. 

“That’s Kokona, resident miss possessive.” Hiroko leaned back in her seat as she sipped her drink, obviously this wasn’t too odd of a sight as she shrugged, “You might wanna run.” 

You brows raised at her words only to see Kokona gathering three other men around as Hiroko snorted, “She’s got a whole pack of guys willing to do her bidding.” 

“Y/n…!” Nanami whined, grabbing your arm as you watched the three men approach, you looked between Nanami and them as your lips parted in a half sincere apology. 

“...Sorry Nami that's what happens when you try to sleep with someone's boyfriend!” You shoved past her as you heard her yelling at you as she split off on the other side of the room. People did nothing to effort to try and move out of your way as you shoved between them, ducking down as weaved through the crowd in hopes of attempting to lose them, you really didn’t want this to become a reputation for you and your sister. 

Diving into a booth seat you felt the stares of two men as you offered an awkward smile, “Don’t mind me, I’m just trying to not get killed…” You offered a quirked smile as you grabbed the long island tea off the table, tipping it towards them as they all bubbled out cheers as you took a long sip, your eyes carefully watching over the crowd as you spot the one guy that must’ve been sent after you. 

After all you weren’t the one that Kokona wanted to kill, it was a pretty common occurrence you had experienced except...at least the woman before wasn't psychotic enough to actually try to kill you. You supposed the Borderlands were different. Very different. 

“Hey you should totally hang with us! We got your back babe.” You looked up at the dorky grin of the man you had sat next to your lying figure, which you were trying to use the table as coverage, “No extra cost needed beside a good laugh!”

You offered a weak smile, “I’m Y/n!” You introduced, endeared at the oddly innocent smile on his face as you awkwardly shifted, “My sister tried to sleep with someone's boyfriend and I somehow got dragged into it.” 

“Kokona’s a mean one,” The guy across the table hiccuped as he lifted his glass, “I’d stay away from her if I were.” You lifted up onto your elbows as you glanced up at him, his eyes heavily dilated before you realized he had obviously been as high as a kite and drinking...No wonder they looked so out of it. 

Watching the three men rally back together you quickly pressed back against the seats as you closed your eyes, “Yeah, I can tell...Is she like this with everyone....?” You grabbed the glass once more for another sip, needing something to take the edge off of this whole day. If your sister wasn’t so horny you wouldn’t be in this position right now!

“Nah, mainly girls.” The one beside you waved a hand, “She’s pretty cool otherwise, a little ruthless though. She gloats about her speciality being hearts a lot so she thinks it makes her automatically superior since most of us are spades or clubs players.” 

Sitting up a little you tilted your head in confusion, holding the drink you now claimed as yours as you drank it once more, “Specialty? Are venues specified towards…? What? A certain type of suit?” 

“No! No! Nothing like that, specialty just means what you naturally have a knack for! All games are still random at each venue,” The guy beside you sloshed his drink, obviously semi drunk himself as he explained, “That's why Hatter sends a team of four or three where each person has a specialty in each suit- except there isn’t a lot of hearts player, because we haven’t really encountered any…” 

Jiggling your drink you looked down at the ice that was slowly melting as you hummed, “Okay that makes sense.” You nodded remembering Hatter mentioning this was well, it would only be natural that the longer you survived you’d have a preference for a suit. 

“Hey aren’t you new?” The guy across the table pointed a sluggish finger at you, “Shouldn’t you be a little more...freaked out…?” 

You offered a weak smile as you glanced away, “Oftentimes in traumatic situations hysteria doesn’t always hit first, it’s likely that my psyche is still in shock and hasn’t fully processed what I’ve seen the past day…” The guy across the table squinted his eyes as he nodded with his lips parted as if in awe at your words, “It’s a mental thing,” You waved at your head, “To try and keep the psychological state of my mind in one piece.” 

You wouldn’t deny, there was a certain part of you that felt numb to everything and a smaller part of yourself wondered how you could intake all this information without going hysterical. But...the way you saw it was if this was your reality now, there was nothing you could do to change it. It was better you just got as much information as you could and try your best to adapt if you were going to live on. 

Glancing out over the crowd you noticed the men had disappeared once again as you offered both the guys a smile, “Thanks for letting me stay! But I’d better get going.” You gave a small nod, getting up as you held the glass, looking down at it as you frowned...You really hoped this wasn’t laced with anything or else it was going to be a very long night. 

Pushing through the crowd you couldn’t find Nanami anywhere but you did spot the girl you had sent three guys after you both like a fucking dog. Squeezing the glass you took a long drink as you approached her, “Kokona,” You called out with a smile as you waved, her eyes sharp as she immediately glared you down, “Listen…” You approached her with an easy smile, “I’m not here to make enemies, my sister is young and she probably didn’t realize it was your boyfriend…But like I said, you don’t really want a guy like that around…”

“Listen here you walmart knock off barbie,” Kokona pointed a sharp nail at you making your lips part a little in surprise at just how aggressive she was, “I don’t give a fuck. I don’t have the time or patience, here of all places. I’m sure you understand right?” She offered a gritty smile, “So tell that bitchy little sister of yours to stay out of my sight if she doesn’t want her hair ripped out.” 

Pressing your tongue to your cheek you looked away for a second before down at your drink...Well, she asked for it. 

You without a second thought held the drink up before splashing it all over her, “Say what you want about me I don’t give a fuck,” You stepped closer to her as you offered a gritty smile of your own, “But don’t ever say anything about my sister. I’m sure I’ll see you later.” You waved a hand as you turned around, walking back to the table where Akari, Ryu and Hiroko looked like they were all preparing to duck for cover at the show Kokona had put on for them unknowingly.

Setting the glass down at the table you collapsed in your chair as you whined, “Why are women so unfriendly here!?” 

Hiroko snorted as she shrugged, obviously not bugged like you were about it, “In this world it’s either kill or be killed, a lot of people don’t have time for niceties anymore. You’ll get used to it. Besides, Kokona is just a bitch to everyone. Don’t take it so personal.” She shrugged, “While you and Nanami were getting chased down we were talking…” 

You frowned as you looked up at all three of them as Akari smacked the table, “We should all go out for a game tonight! I know! I know, counterproductive especially with our visa’s stocked for the next few days but I think it’d be fun!” 

“Fun!?” The three of them paused as you sat up in your seat, looking at them all like they were insane because they obviously had to be, “Fun!?” You repeated again with even more emphasis, “Guys…! You- you could die!” 

“We could die just trying to breath here,” Hiroko scoffed as she shrugged, nonpulsed at your reaction as she picked her nails, ‘Besides you don’t have to go, I get it. We were all like this when we were new too. But I figured we’d make a good team logically. My speciality is diamond, Ryu’s is clubs and we just found out Akari is spades. And we have you, our wild card to figure out what you’re good at. It’s unlikely we’d die. By statistics at least.” 

You rubbed your neck, feeling a little more at ease with Hiroko’s rationality as you mumbled, “Well what about Nanami…?” Your eyes washed over the crowd, finally spotting your sister against the wall sipping something trying to act like there weren't three guys after her. 

“I doubt you’d want her to go?” Hiroko raised her brows, “Besides she still has three days left on her visa, she’ll be fine. Again, I’m not gonna pressure you into going, if all you’re gonna do is panic you probably will get lynched.” 

Her words made you puff your chest a little as you looked back to Nanami before back to the table, well...if they all had a strong suit then why not? “Alright, I’m in!” Who knows when you’d get the opportunity again to get more days on your visa in a considerably safe group. 

“I get it you’re like a walking model but seriously?” Hiroko leaned against the bathroom wall as she sighed picking at her nails, “You weren’t even in a full bikini.” 

“This has nothing to do with vanity and everything to do with comfort!” You called back, pulling up the loose sweatpants, “I’m not going to possibly go into a game that makes me run while wearing swimwear, I don’t hate myself that much!” You pulled the loose t-shirt over your head before pulling out the maroon jacket as you walked out, stuffing your swim attire in the bag. You had been at the venue for the past five minutes now, having not crossed the threshold but you still have time before it closed. 

“How many people have showed up?” You asked as you stood next to Hiroko who dropped her hand as she looked at you rolling her eyes as she sighed, standing up as you both walked to where Akari and Ryu were discussing the possibilities of what the game would be tonight. 

“Eh, like four? Maybe? I think that guy you know is in there.” Hiroko shrugged casually, “Looks like a good setup for a spades game, they typically have a bigger group number.” 

“What?” Your brows furrowed, what guy? Your mind drew a blank briefly as Ryu stretched out with a nod.

“Well if we’re all ready to go then let's head inside it’s almost six.” Ryu nodded once more as everyone followed behind him, you tossed your bag against the wall, it’s not like you had to be worried about anyone stealing in this climate. Your heartbeat picked up as you crossed the threshold. 

Noticing indeed four other people here before your lips parted and your face screwed into irritation, “Really!?” You muttered under your breath, immediately turning away from the familiar white hood as you stubbornly crossed your arms, “Hiroko why didn’t you say it was him!?” You hissed a whisper to her. 

Hiroko looked between you and Chishiya who was on his phone, earbuds in and ignoring the outside world before she tried to hold a laugh, “Did you two fuck or something?” You immediately flailed at her words making both her and Akari start laughing at both your misery and anger as you glared at her in unappreciation. 

“You think i’d fuck someone like him!?” You hissed out, “No, he's a total jerk! I…! Why can’t I go anywhere without him showing up!” You groaned as you crossed your arms, “Whatever, maybe he’ll get his guts ripped out tonight.” 

“Ouch, that’s a little harsh.” Ryu frowned, innocent as ever as he held his hands together, before offering a cute smile, “I’m sure he’ll come around, we’re all a part of the beach after all.” You sourly crossed your arms as you looked at the clock, striking six just in time for you to get tonight started with whatever death trap awaited.” 

Somehow, you doubt Chishiya held any loyalty to any of you at all just because you all slept in the same hotel…

The TV on the wall lit up as everyone's attention turned to it, obviously nobody was new here tonight as no one spoke to each other.

Game

Difficulty: 3♡ 

“A heart's game?” Ryu mumbled, his brows furrowed as he looked between you all as you gave a little shrug, your face twisted in concern as you wrapped your arms around yourself, “Well at least it’s a low difficulty! I’m sure it won’t be too hard to solve!” 

“The game you will be participating in is Blind Man's Bluff. Everyone will be required to wear a blindfold for one minute where the tagger will pass their tag off,” The screen depicted a faceless man passing quite literally a name tag off to one sitting down “Tags pertain to who is a player and who is the tagger. You will have twenty minutes to complete the game. It’s a Game ‘Clear’ if the tagger is discovered before the end of the last round, it’s a Game Over for the players if the tagger remains undiscovered.” 

Rules:

After each tagging sequence players will remain seated to take off their blindfold and find out if they have been selected as the tagger.

Blindfolds must be worn and kept on for the whole minute during the tagging sequence or it’s a Game Over.

Violence against other players is strictly prohibited and will result in a Game Over.

Players must remain seated for the whole time period of the tagging sequence or it’s a Game Over.

Game Clear conditions: If the players find out who the tagger is before the time runs out or it’s a Game Over for all players.

Tension had risen in the air a little as you felt your throat become dry, everyone immediately looked at each other somewhat suspiciously as the doors opened to the school gym, it was dark and empty outside of eleven chairs lined in a circle, all backs facing each other. 

“It could be worse.” Hiroko whispered to you as everyone grabbed a blindfold off the table that stood off in the distance, “As long as we just keep passing the tagger off to someone else we should be fine.” 

“Unless one of us gets picked by the end?” You quirked a brow as you rubbed the back of your neck, chances of that happening was one in ten but still, “I don’t like those odds Hiroko.” 

Hiroko only snorted as you both walked up, grabbing a blindfold as your eyes darted to the tags that laid out. Your brows furrowed at the stuffed bear with a blindfold on, his name tag ‘Rikku’ that took up his whole stomach, grabbing a tag as you turned back to face Hiroko.

“All we have to do is get a confession out of the tagger, it can’t be that hard.” Hiroko shrugged as she grabbed her blindfold as you puffed a breath of air, you hadn’t known her for long and despite knowing she was a lawyer before all of this...it was just still hard to imagine unless she was pressuring. Not exactly your method of going about stuff like this. 

Walking to a chair towards the left side of the room you sat down, crossing your legs as you looked up at the two clocks, one at twenty minutes that began ticking away and another holding at one minute. 

Looking towards your left your gaze immediately snapped back forward as your lips curled a little at the insufferable sight of blonde hair who made no effort to try and speak to you. 

Was he just sitting here purposely to annoy you? Because if you got tagger you would most definitely put it on him next. 

“The one minute for the tagging sequence getting ready to begin, blindfolds on.” 

Putting on your blindfold you tied it in a loose knot as you relaxed back into your chair, not being the tagger was perhaps the boring part of this game, the whole minute passed by and you briefly felt something press against your blindfold before it left. 

“Blinds off. Ten second cool down starts now.” Taking off your blindfold you flipped it over only to find the tag player stuck on it, attached magnetically as you pulled it off, proceeding to wait the ten seconds before the scoreboard went off and everyone stood up. 

“Maybe we should start easy and just show who has a name tag?” Ryu coughed a little as he scuffed his shoe against the ground, rubbing his neck as he frowned, everyone, as if it was possible, became all the more tense. 

You looked around at all the blindfolds that were being held, “I don’t think that will work, we've most likely all been provided a nametag, the only odd man out is the one with tagger. But they’ve most likely hidden it. All we can do is just take a guess of who it could be.” 

Nobody spoke for a moment making Hiroko heave a sigh as she cracked her neck, “Alright I’ll do it, I’m used to this in court. What about you!” She suddenly pointed to a shorter girl who had been fiddling with her skirt, suddenly jumping at the accusation. 

“What!? I’m- I’m not the tagger!” She squeaked out, nervousness suddenly on her expression and many of the wolves of the group were definitely preying on her right now as Hiroko puffed a breath crossing her arms. 

“Then why do you look so nervous?” She raised an accusing brow, making you shift in your spot, crossing your arms, you couldn’t agree with Hiroko’s approach to this that was just stoking fire to an already stressful atmosphere where everyone was quickly beginning to pin the blame on each other. 

You could only stand there and watch as everyone began to argue as you pinched the bridge of your nose, “We’re never gonna get anything solved if we go about it like this.” You muttered to yourself as you sighed.

“If you’re that confident in doing better then you should assert yourself more.” 

You turned to Chishiya who was also standing not quite close enough for you to say he was next to you, but close enough. Your eyes squinted into a glare as you spoke, “Right and how do I know you’re not the tagger?” 

“Because I would’ve tagged you next if I was.” Chishiya shrugged casually making you clench your fists as you let out a noise of irritation, you hated that…! Annoying smirk of his! Despite not knowing him for long you could get the idea he obviously got off on annoying you and it only fueled your irritation that much more. 

“The feelings are mutual, stranger.” You hissed as you crossed your arms, “And I’ll have you know I am not going to insert myself into...that!” You waved your hand at the sight of two of the men now shouting at each other, the taller one immediately grabbing the other by the shirt, “Because at that point you’ll just be accused with any sort of logic.” 

You puffed a breath as you wrapped your jacket around yourself, “And besides, this chaos is a great scapegoat for the real tagger to just sit back and watch everyone pick each other off-” You paused as you turned to Chishiya as you silently berated yourself, why were you even rambling to this guy!? He was a total jerk and you were not about to let go of this morning where you were only trying to help, “Why are you even talking to me? Didn’t you want us to...what? Stay strangers?” 

“I’m...not talking to you?” He raised his brows, his lips quirking into an infuriating half smile as if he had a point making your lips pucker together and your jaw clench in effort to try and keep your obvious anger to a minimum, “It’s not my fault you won’t shut up.” He had the audacity to shrug. 

You couldn’t help but stomp your foot as you glared at him, “You know what!? I get the feeling if you didn’t care you would’ve gone and sulked in the corner the whole game. In fact, I bet you like listening to me ramble. After all the whole day and a half I’ve known you that's all you do other than instigate unnecessary fights!” 

Chishiya’s gaze narrowed a little and you watched his body coil a little away from you at your words, “In what world would you think I care to listen to you?” His lips twitched into cruel smirk as he spoke, “Besides your irrational anger and blabbering, you don’t have an ounce of sense or logic in your body. You're probably best suited for hearts because all you do is spill emotion.” 

“That is not what hearts are about!” You retaliated as you threw your hands even more frustrated, “Why are you so defensive the moment I say anything in relation to you possibly not being some emotionless humanoid!? I get it,” You flailed your arms as you spoke louder, “I was a total dick for comparing you to a sociopath! Okay? I can admit that, and usually I can understand where people are coming from but- but you!? I genuinely don’t get you! At all! One moment you wanna pretend like everything's cool between us and then the next you wanna act like a total asshole! And that’s not cool!” 

Chishiya had looked away from you heaving a loud sigh making you stomp your foot again, here you were exerting all of your emotion into him and he really…! 

Your fists curling only to realize just how silent it was...you turned to look at the crowd of people who all had stopped fighting and...Oh...you felt your face become hot as you wrapped your arms around yourself in embarrassment...Were you really that loud…

“If you and your boyfriend are done arguing we have more important things to solve!” A man pointed a finger at you with a hiss making you curl away, your ears burning at his words as you snapped back, “He is not my boyfriend! Besides you aren’t getting anything done just yelling at each other,” You turned away from Chishiya now unable to even look him in the eyes at the moment, “The real question is who has been silent up until now? The tagger would obviously sit back and watch because why would they insert themselves when you’re doing a great job at killing time.” 

“The one minute for the tagging sequence getting ready to begin, blindfolds on.” 

Clenching your jaw you sat in your chair as everyone proceeded to do the same, it was now silent as you put on your blindfold, now angry and not even at the game. You wasted your whole time, not even arguing with Chishiya which somehow made you feel even more angry. 

It was like talking to a wall.

Crossing your legs you curled up against yourself, mad just...Why were you even mad? You shouldn’t be letting someone like this get under your skin. You briefly wondered why it bothered you so much. Come to think of it, you supposed it was for the exact reason you said. 

Chishiya, puzzled you to no end and you had never experienced that with someone, ever. You couldn’t figure out what he was thinking nor find an understanding as to why he was so back and forth with you. Maybe it was your misinterpretation? But...You shook your head a little despite your gaze darkened from the blindfold, it wasn’t that. 

It was obvious, for whatever reason, he was holding himself back, From what? You didn’t know, but for now…

“Blinds off. Ten second cool down starts now.” 

Pulling off your blindfold you looked at it, the same tag remaining of Player on it. You needed to focus on finding out who the tagger was, really this was like a game of hot potato, chances of the tagger getting killed was just as high as all the players dying, and who would want to take that chance? 

Maybe some, you stood up after the scoreboard went off and the original clock resumed as you turned around facing everyone to judge their reactions, Hiroko and Ryu were the same and so was Akari to your knowledge. Your eyes briefly flickered to Chishiya who had remained seated, his hands in his pockets, he also...You doubted yourself briefly, you couldn’t rule him out. 

“Who here wasn’t talking last round?” You asked, looking around at everyone, who obviously everyone immediately began speaking much to your frustration, you couldn’t expect someone to answer honestly which only meant...Puffing a breath, “Alright, how about this, let’s all trace a conversation with one person we talked too last round.” 

...You’d just have to manipulate the tagger into confessing

First you’d need to trace who was absolutely not the tagger and narrow it from there, “I’ll go first as an example since everyone seemed to hear last round,” You looked away briefly, a somewhat awkward smile on your lips, “I was talking to Chishiya about why he’s such an asshole. You don’t need his confirmation given everyone saw it, but typically you’d need someone to vouch for you in order to confirm you were talking. Now to those that didn’t talk, it doesn’t make them guilty, just more suspect.” 

“Me and Ryu were talking to each other about who the possible tagger was.” Hiroko spoke up, pulling a hand around Ryu’s waist who looked a little flush as he nodded, semi shy as you nodded yourself. That answer wasn’t too surprising. 

“Well I was talkin’ to this fine gentleman here about how I wasn’t the tagger.” Akari waved a hand to the guy beside her, who still leered but nodded in confirmation which cleared the both of them. You had hoped...this would keep civil, but as everyone went around, there was bound to be some who just genuinely didn’t remember because they were arguing with everyone, and those who were lying…

Which meant by this deduction things were narrowed down, for most people the chance of being found out you were the tagger is too stressful to be worth possibly being the only one to live in the end, thus handing it off, which meant there was...what? One in third chance each round the tagger was someone new? There were a few people you had to suspect that could have held the tagger without giving it up. 

The guy towards the middle who was very strangely calm during all of this with very empty looking eyes, and then there was the other man more towards you left who had been calmly de-escalating the situation but you didn’t miss the undertones of manipulation. It was one in third chance they could be holding it. Which meant you’d need to make sure they weren’t.

Walking over you stood more near Hiroko and Ryu as you watched two guys begin arguing again, “Every time I think we’ve made progress, it always ends up getting disturbed.” 

“Well that is the way of the world.” You kept a straight expression at the man who offered a smile that looked so unnatural to his empty eyes, you couldn’t help but feel a bit creeped out at how...insanely calm he was. You could get a sense of tension from at least Chishiya, granted it was most likely from you. 

“I’m Y/n,” You introduced, “Sense we should all be working together I figured it’d be best we at least learn each other's names.” You offered a sweet smile as you wrapped your jacket around yourself in effort to try and look unsuspecting. 

“I see how much anger you have inside you know? It’s quite obvious, from the way you lash out at others when you don’t get the response you want to the way you feel entitled to everyone's feelings, that’s not good for your health you know?” Your lips parted a little at his words, not even offended because...while he was right in some ways...he was very wrong in others, “But I understand your nature is tedious and complex, for all we not the same way?” Okay...this guy was definitely a psychopath, “I’m Sunato Banda, pleased to meet you.” He offered another smile. 

Empty eyes, disturbingly calm demeanor, even with your lives on the line he wasn’t disturbed at all, it wasn’t that he didn’t care. He just wasn’t affected, at all, like this could be a walk in the park for him. 

Psychopath, definitely. 

You’d need to be careful if tagger got in his possession otherwise he’d lie straight through his teeth and he’d never blink twice about it and you and everyone else would be unsuspecting about it.

“Well, us humans are very complex,” You nodded offering yet another smile making effort to look almost starstruck at his very poor deduction skills, again, somewhat correct, otherwise wrong. Afterall, how could someone who feels no remorse, truly understand the complexity of human nature? “Do you by any chance know who the tagger would be?” 

You’d need to make yourself look weak, pliable, if you were to get any use out of this guy, all he knew was how to do was take advantage of people, obviously, Banda offered a sly smile as he looked out over the room, his eyes washing over everyone, “Him,” He pointed a finger, “He keeps adjusting his coat as if he has something placed in there that’s uncomfortable.” 

You followed his line of sight to what looked like a business man in a suit and bowler hat, he did in fact, look quite nervous, “And why not call him out?” You asked, tilting your head exaggerated as you brimmed with curiosity. 

Banda turned to face you, a bright smile on his face as he closed his eyes, “Well I personally hope he’ll tag me next, I quite enjoy seeing a large build up in bodies.” 

..Oh...oh wow…

You gave a small nod, forcing a smile as you held yourself before excusing yourself from him, well, at least it definitely wasn’t him for now. Otherwise you’d be in trouble right now. And now you had a prime suspect. Some could overthink that and argue that perhaps he was lying just to get you off his trail. But personally? There was no way it’d be him, he wouldn’t do something like that. You got the feeling Banda, was a simple man. 

You turned to find the two guys from before who were tussling suddenly growl, one throwing a punch and before he could even fully hit the guy a deep red laser broke through the ceiling, you were frozen for a half a second at the sight of it shooting through the top of his head. Everyone was quiet as they looked down at the sight of a now dead body. 

Right...that was a rule, violence was prohibited. 

“The one minute for the tagging sequence getting ready to begin, blindfolds on.” 

You scurried back to your seat, sitting down as you pulled up your blindfold, “It’s that guy wearing the dumb bowler hat.” Your head looked towards you left despite not being able to see, Chishiya’s voice was quiet as he spoke, “While you were busy wasting time, I watched the real tagger- that school girl place it in his back pocket.” 

“The tagger can do that during the round?” You whispered back perplexed at the idea, how could you have missed that? Unless...she placed it right as you approached Banda? Thus him seeing the man realize he had been tagged and now nervously adjusting himself?

“There aren't any rules stating otherwise, makes it fair game.” Chishiya replied, he immediately quieted at the sound of footsteps tapping on the floor, they were definitely on your side of the ring. Your breath hitched a little at feeling something press against your forehead. Oh shit before the sound of footsteps walked away. 

“We just need to watch for him next round.” Chishiya spoke once more as you leaned back in your seat, trying to find a reason for why you just felt what you did. 

“Blinds off. Ten second cool down starts now. Final round will be next round” 

You hurriedly took yours off as you flipped it over looking down at it, 

Tagger

Motherfucker. 

You quickly grabbed it off, at first trying to push it into your pocket only to realize they were fake. God you hated women’s clothing, your eyes shot to the clock that only had five seconds left, with nowhere to put it you shoved it down your bra as you collected yourself. Okay you...you could make this work. 

But now you were presented with a plethora of options. You honestly didn’t think it would be passed off to you. But now...you...you could keep it...You stood up as the scoreboard went off, but...Everyone else would die. Or...you could confess and you’d die. These options were not great. Next round was the last round, so if you gave it up...you’d be reassuring someone’s victory. 

You stood next to Chishiya as his eyes kept with the man from before with the bowler hat, “He might have gotten it passed back to him.” His eyes narrowed a little onto the guy. 

Do you find a way to discreetly tell him? Or would that also count as a confession…? It wouldn’t be a confession if you made yourself suspect. But...you couldn’t honestly trust Chishiya, not after his unstable display of distrust in you. 

“He could be,” You replied, leaning in a little as you watched him, he appeared relieved once more, he was the one freaked out about this after all...you felt a brief wave of guilt inside you at what your mind had suddenly come up with. 

With Chishiya’s suspect still on the man, all you needed to do was plant it back on him and pressure a confession out of him next round. 

You were very much going to hell after this. 

“He was the one that started accusing last round too and made someone die,” You hummed as you stuffed your hands in your pocket, “That guy also thought it was him. He’s definitely good at reading people,” You thought back to the way he tried to read you, which was somewhat accurate, but people like you and him, you couldn’t always accurately read each other. Except you weren’t insane like him, “At this point we don’t have much to lose.” 

You could see the cogs turning in Chishiya’s head as he stared menacingly at the man who looked at him and jolted a little at such an intense stare, “If I were the tagger by this point,” You were treading on very thin ice at the moment, “I’d keep it just for myself, instead passing it off. He’s gone this far without anyone really pressuring him. It’d be the smartest move by now.” 

“Then we’ll settle on him.” Chishiya replied, his gaze cold as he glared down at the man who mindlessly fixed his tie, trying to look cool despite being intimidated, clearly. He had a weak mentality, if you couldn’t break him next round, Chishiya most definitely would. 

“The one minute for the tagging sequence getting ready to begin, blindfolds on.” 

You supposed he was good for something even when you couldn’t trust him. 

Sitting down in your chair you put your blindfold on and waited a second before taking it back off, standing back up as you carefully stepped as quietly as you could, pulling the Tagger out of your bra before you walked over to the man who had just tagged you before pressing it against his blindfold, you watched his lips quiver as he let out a quiet, “Please…!” 

Your expression went cold as you turned around, glancing at the clock before you walked away and sat back down in your chair, putting your blindfold back on as you waited for the announcer once more. 

“Blinds off. Ten second cool down starts now. Final round.” 

You took the blindfold off, looking down feeling content at the Player tag as you stood up along with Chishiya who’s eyes went between you and the man before he pushed his hands back into his pockets, “If you’re all done pointing fingers and wasting time,” His gaze became a little more cool as he spoke, “Then we should go ahead and show who the real tagger is.” 

Both you and Chishiya glanced at the man who was now looking insanely nervous, sweat dripping down his neck and if this wasn’t life or death, you would’ve felt a little bad...Some parts of you still did, but it was either all of you or just him. 

“He does look pretty nervous.” Hiroko narrowed her eyes on him and from this moment forward you knew it was game over for him, quite literally. With all three of you there was no way he’d survive, crossing your arms you lifted your chin a little, “Say, weren’t you the one who got really defensive when the finger got pointed at you last round?” 

“I’m…!” He flailed a little, wiping his brow with his hand as he suddenly pointed an accusing finger at you, “It’s her you want! She’s a manipulative bitch!” You pressed your hand against your chest in fake hurt as you raised your brows, “She’s the one pitting everyone against me when she’s really the tagger. She’s going to leave you all to die.” 

The majority of eyes fled to you as you shrugged, “Why would I do that when I could just give it to you?” You gave a wickedly sweet smile as you giggled a little, “And watch it all go down. I mean, you must be agreeing now?” You raised your brows as you goaded, “About being the tagger?” 

“I…!” He struggled with his words, now glaring at you as you raised your brows once more as you shook your head, “I…! Now you’re just doing this on purpose! Trying to get into everyone's head and make everyone die! Can’t- can’t you see what she’s doing!” He cried out as he backed away from everyone. 

“I dunno’ you seem pretty guilty to me.” Akari shrugged as she poked her tongue into her cheek, not looking the least bit remorseful for the guy as she leaned her weight onto one side. 

“I get it,” You shrugged as you laughed a little, “You’re probably that kinda guy who’s never really stood up for himself, you probably got bullied as a kid and let yourself get run over by people all the time, even now, and now in desperation you attempt to hold your own and yet...” You tilted your head with a frown as you mocked, “You still can’t do anything right. I guess that goes to show, that people like you just never have a spine. If you can’t assert yourself now with your life on the line, you might as well die now. Because let’s face it, people like you only end in two ways, either spineless pathetic existence or you become the abuser out of a sick need to regain what you lost as a kid.” 

Reverse psychology, worked in the most simplistic ways. 

That seemed to get him to snap, you watched his eyes dilate and pure unfurled rage cross his expression as he shrieked, “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! You know nothing about my life! You know nothing about me! And because I’m the tagger I’ll get to watch all you pathetic people die! Who’s in control now!?” 

It’s a shame he couldn’t take control of his life in any other circumstance. 

Everyone paused and even he himself paused at the realization, his eyes welled with tears that made something deep in your heart lurch, your eyes squinting a little as your expression wilted a little as the red laser broke through the roof shooting him straight through the top of his head. His body crumpling to the ground. 

‘Game Cleared’

Everyone was still for a moment before you looked down at the blindfold and then to your hands, the memory hazy yet the memory of red staining them still so clear as you felt ringing in your ears and your vision blur for a moment as you let the fabric slip through your fingers. Running a hand through your hair you wrapped your arms around your jacket as you walked past the body, briefly looking at the once timid man who obviously let others run his life.

“Sorry.” You whispered quietly as you stepped over the corpse, “Come on, let’s go. I don’t wanna stay around here.” You looked towards the other three who nodded, also looking semi apprehensive as well. 

Now that the moment was over, the cruel reality was back to remind you that you just gaslit someone into admitting their own suicide. It was hard to not feel innately disgusted with yourself despite your reasoning that you and all of your friends would’ve died if you had. Still, what you did was okay. You were supposed to help people like him, not encourage them to snap. 

If you didn’t feel conflicted before you certainly felt conflicted now, looking at the register you ignored the visa print as you grabbed the playing card off the table. 

And as if mocking, this was only a three of hearts. You couldn’t imagine what higher level games looked like with this. You’d definitely need to be careful in the future, “Y/n! Come on, let’s go!” You looked behind at Hiroko nodding towards the exit. 

“You guys go on, I’ll catch up later.” You looked down at the card again, Hiroko frowned at your figure, wanting to say something but she understood, the first few days of the Borderlands were never easy. With that, she left. Besides you needed to get changed before you headed for the beach again. 

Walking out of the exit you grabbed your bag that was, just as you anticipated, still against the wall, leaning down you opened it up as you began digging through to try and find your bathing suit top. Stuffing the card inside you furrowed your brows, why did the electricity have to go out so soon? 

“You could’ve kept the tagger and won but you didn’t. Why?” 

You paused your search at the sound of Chishiya’s voice, sounding like he was- not interrogating you but definitely investigating. You resumed once more as you shrugged, “I could’ve.” You agreed, and it did cross your mind after all, “I thought about it,” You admitted right after as you pulled out the swimsuit top, “But maybe to some degree you were right,” You stood up as you turned to face him, “I am spilling emotion constantly. And if there was a chance I could’ve saved all of us in turn for one? It didn’t seem like that big of a reach to do really…” You looked away from him as you grabbed your neck, feeling a bit sheepish, “It was by chance you had spotted him before and it was by luck that I was given tagger for the last round. I knew all you needed was just mutual confirmation in your assessment before initiating the end.” 

You sighed as you looked down at the elastic material in your hand as you frowned, “For what it’s worth, I would’ve probably done it to him regardless of whether he had been the tagger or not. It doesn’t take much to break the weakest link. That’s probably the saddest part to be honest.” 

You grabbed your backpack off the ground as you looked up at Chishiya before back towards the entrance where others slowly began to filter out, “I doubt he even realized the trap I set him up for,” You smiled wryly as you shook your head, “People are so easy to mislead, I forget sometimes, the power that can hold.” 

You turned around, intending to go change, “What were you before all of this?” You looked back at Chishiya, his gaze cool as ever and his eyes scanning over you as if in search for an answer that didn’t exist. Briefly your heart jumped in nervousness, did you dare tell the truth? 

Laughing you let out a sigh what was the use in hiding in this world? There were no laws and honestly, who could judge you? “I was a prostitute.” You looked away, feeling somewhat bashful as you awkwardly rubbed your neck, you could tell that was not what Chishiya had been expecting you to say.

 “Oh…!” Your lips parted suddenly feeling even more stupid at the realization that was not what he meant by his question, “You...You probably meant what I’m majoring in...sorry. Uh-” You gave him an apologetic smile that was more out of your sake of humiliation as assuming. Clearing your throat you turned back over your shoulder as you gave him one last look, holding up the three of hearts as you answered, “I’m a major in psychology ♡ ” 

[bytheangell]

Truth Be Told

( @shadowhunterbingo​ square: Two-Person Love Triangle) (Read on AO3)

Magnus can pinpoint nearly every moment he made a decision that went entirely against what he’s supposed to be doing right now. He was aware of each of them as they happened, but he did them anyway, bringing himself closer and closer to the point of no return he faces now.

What he’s supposed to be doing is getting close to Alec Lightwood. Close enough to get him to slip up and share any information about his father, Robert, that might help Magnus and his team build a case for a formal indictment against him. Magnus made some social media accounts under the alias ‘Bane’ with the tried-and-true plan of bonding with Alec over some shared interests, then gently prodding for more personal info once they were ‘friends’. He meant to stay detached, uninvested in Alec outside of his usefulness in potentially taking down Robert. It was meant to be easy because Magnus couldn’t imagine there were many redeeming qualities about a doubtlessly repellant brat raised by the Lightwoods.

What Magnus should have done was pull himself the moment he noticed he was starting to develop feelings. Or the moment he started casually reading up on archery because Alec mentioned it was a hobby of his. Or the moment he stopped pushing Alec to talk about his dad because Alec was uncomfortable with the topic. Or the moment he realized the only person he’d been messaging daily for the past few months, more than his own family, or his boss, or even his best friends, was Alec.

What Magnus actually did was allow himself to fall for Alexander entirely, growing fonder with every conversation they had, becoming more endeared with every new detail he learned about Alec, like his volunteer hours at a local youth club, or his basic knowledge of medicine from helping his sister study for med school and how he gets a constant stream of caffeine from his brother’s coffee truck.

And what Magnus does now is take the empty seat next to Alec where he sits at the bar while his friends dance to some mediocre DJ. He says hi, and makes small talk, and flirts like he has no idea who Alec is - because as far as Alec knows this is the first time they’ve ever spoken.

“Sorry,” Alec says, making a face at the sip of Magnus’ whiskey he tries. “I’m just not a big drinker.”

There goes his plan of getting Alec drunk enough to spill the beans on his dad’s private dealings. Magnus should be disappointed but isn’t surprised to find that he’s not, not really. He can be honest enough with himself to admit the ‘plan’ was just an excuse to risk meeting Alec face-to-face: to hear the voice he only imagined for so many months and appreciate the occasional nervous stutters and the flush that creeps high on Alec’s cheekbones when Magnus compliments him.

Magnus grins. “Well, lucky for you I am, which means I know there’s something out there for everyone. We just need to find yours.”

The two of them have an immediate spark. It’s undeniable, and the conversation flows so easily that Magnus loses track of time entirely until Alec’s friends come back to see if he wants to leave, and he tells them to go without him. The conversation is wonderful but it’s the moments that Alec smiles, the ones where he laughs freely and lets go almost in spite of himself, that Magnus loves the most.

Everything seems to be going well until Magnus starts to notice Alec talking less and less as the night goes on. Finally, Alec sighs, and Magnus allows his current story to trail off at the sight of the frown on Alec’s face.

“Is everything alright?”

“I’m sorry. I can’t… I shouldn’t be doing this. It isn’t fair to you,” Alec says suddenly.

Magnus raises an eyebrow at that. “What isn’t?”

Alec hesitates. “It’s going to sound stupid, but… there’s this guy I like. Someone I met online.”

Oh. Magnus shouldn’t feel the sinking, crushing disappointment he does at that moment. After all, this isn’t meant to be a real date. He shouldn’t even have the feelings he does for Alec. This should be good, it should mean he can just get whatever information he can on Robert and leave with no guilt. Because of course, Magnus isn’t the only person Alec’s friends with online. Of course, Alec’s meeting and flirting with other people.

“That doesn’t sound stupid. People meet online all the time,” Magnus says, trying to sound nonchalant. He doesn’t remember Alec ever mentioning anyone, but maybe they weren’t as close as Magnus let himself hope.

“Yeah, but you’re… well, I mean, look at you. You’re gorgeous, and you’re here, and I should want to give that a chance. I’ve never even met Bane in person, and he probably doesn’t even like me back - we aren’t actually dating or anything, but-”

Oh. Magnus can practically feel the swoop in his chest at the realization that Alec can’t bring himself to get invested in him because… well, because he’s already invested in Magnus. He just doesn’t know it.

Magnus’ disappointment shifts suddenly to elation, and then just as quickly to guilt. He barely hears any of Alec’s continued rambling explanation, the words drowned out by his thoughts which now swirl with a panicked rush of possible responses to this unexpected turn of events. He should leave. He should take the easy out and leave. He should walk away before he says or does anything he’ll regret later. Hell, he should go home and delete the accounts and pretend that none of this ever happened.

There are a million and one things he should do… but none of them are the one thing he wants to do.

And he hasn’t done anything he should’ve since this all started, so why start now?

“-anyway, I’m sorry. But I’m sure you don’t deserve to try and date someone who’ll spend half their time hung up on someone else,” Alec finishes.

There’s only one thing he can do that leaves him any chance of ever seeing Alec again - and he very much wants to see Alec again.

The decision Magnus makes next is impulsive. Magnus pulls out his phone, brings up his Bane account, and looks over at Alec with what he hopes is a look of genuine remorse. “No, I’m sorry. And I’d really, really like it if you gave me a chance to explain, but I understand if you don’t want to.”

Magnus watches the confusion on Alec’s face shift to recognition, then surprise, then a flash of anger as tense hands push his phone back across the bar top to him, teeth clenched as he speaks.

“Glad you understand,” Alec says, his voice suddenly cold - and god does it hurt Magnus to hear that shift in tone, however deserved it is. Magnus can only sit and watch as Alec pushes his stool back to leave, then pauses and turns back to Magnus, the anger back in place. “No, you know what? I do want to know. I want to know what explanation you could possibly have for not telling me who you are when you knew... “ Alec’s words trail off as he takes a deep breath to collect himself, but doesn’t continue talking as he sits back down to wait for an explanation.

“I want to start off by saying that everything I ever said to you, I meant. All our conversations, everything I told you - from how terrible I am at playing string instruments to my fear of drowning - none of that was an act. But... when I started talking to you, it was because I was hoping to get information on your father.”

“My father,” Alec huffs out a laugh. “Of course. I should’ve known someone like you would never actually want to talk to me-”

“But that’s just it - I did! I do. I realized ages ago I wasn’t going to get anything out of you about Robert, but I didn’t care. I just liked talking to you, and getting to know you, and… you. I like you, Alexander.”

“Forgive me if I’m finding it difficult to take anything you say at face value right now,” Alec mutters.

“That’s fair,” Magnus says, sighing. Maybe he should let things sit for a day or two, and try messaging Alec to explain once the anger settles a bit. That’s if Alec doesn’t block him the first chance he gets. Either way, it’s obvious nothing he says now is going to matter. “I should leave.”

Magnus doesn’t wait for a response before he’s already standing up to go, his back turned to Alec when Alec speaks again.

“What information did you want about my dad?”

Magnus shakes his head, still not turning back around. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” Alec insists. “Because if you haven’t figured it out yet, he and I don’t exactly see eye-to-eye on a lot of things. Or anything at all.”

Magnus winces. “Yeah, I gathered as much.”

Alec frowns. “You did, didn’t you?” Alec’s entire face scrunches up in concentration as he thinks back on something. “I told you I didn’t like talking about him weeks ago and you dropped it, and never brought him up again. Why would you do that?” Some of the harshness is gone from Alec’s tone again.

“Because I realized talking about your dad upset you, and I didn’t want to do that,” Magnus explains. Against his own better judgment Magnus latches on to the small bit of hope he feels from the subtle shift in mood.

“Because you like me,” Alec repeats, not quite a question, but the disbelief behind his words prompts Magnus to answer all the same.

“Yes,” he says, the single word pleading, willing Alec to believe him.

There’s a long stretch of silence and it takes all of Magnus’ self-control to not break it. Instead, he hovers where he still stands next to his chair.

“What if I help you?” Alec finally says. “What if I tell you whatever you need to know about my dad?”

Magnus sits back down abruptly, mostly out of shock. “What?”

“Robert isn’t a good person. He doesn’t tell me a lot, but I hear things. I’ve seen some stuff snooping around places I shouldn’t have. I’ll help, as much as I can,” Alec continues.

Magnus should be thrilled. It’s everything he could’ve hoped for when he started, even if it isn’t how he imagined getting it. But the idea of the information coming at the cost of the friendship and connection he’s made with Alec over the past few months leaves an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“But I need something from you in return,” Alec adds, causing Magnus’ gaze to turn up from where he’d been looking down at his hands to avoid looking into Alec’s eyes.

“What’s that?” Magnus asks, his curiosity piqued.

“There’s nothing between us until after I tell you what you want to know. Once you have what you need on Robert… if you’re lying and this is all just a ploy to get information from me, then you have to promise to leave without a word: delete your online accounts, and I never want to hear from you again.”

“And if I’m not lying?”

Alec takes a deep breath. “Then you promise to take me on a proper first date and we start over, with all the cards on the table.”

Magnus smiles. “That,” he agrees easily. “Is a promise I can absolutely make, darling.”

[yanderecrazysie]

Hello, I just binge read everything on your blog. I’m so excited for that Scp thing! If you don’t mind could I please request the yandere alphabet with nishinoya? Thanks anyway!

Thank you so much, I'm so honored!!! And of course you can request that!

I hope you enjoy this! :D

Nishinoya Yū (Haikyuu) -The Yandere Alphabet

🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣

Warnings: yandere themes, kidnapping, violence, implied murder, mentions of suicide.

A is for Affection: How do they show their affection for their darling? How often do they show it?

💖 Nishinoya is EXTREMELY affectionate. Like, this boy would be hugging on you at all times if he could. He's kinda clingy.

💖 He just wants to be able to touch you. I think he'd prefer his arms around you with him cuddling his face into your hair, but as long as he's touching you in SOME way he's happy.

💖 When is he NOT affectionate? That's the real question. If he's not touching you, it's not by his choice and he's not happy about it.

B is for Blood: How messy are they willing to get for their darling? Why?

🔪 Nishnoya is loyal af. Like, if you're bullied or hit on, he's having none of that. Those bullies/flirts are in for a bad time.

🔪 Would he kill? I don't THINK so. Unless, of course, he HAS to. Or he goes overboard when beating someone who had the AUDACITY to grope you into a bloody pulp.

C is for Care or Cruelty: How would they treat their darling when they kidnap them? Would they mock them?

💔 Nishinoya is not going to mock you at all and he's not going to be cruel. He's a worshipper (have you SEEN him with Kiyoko?) and you'd be treated like a goddess.

💔 You'd be taken care of better than you've ever been. Everything you could ever want will be in your hand before you can ask for it. He knows you so well, after all!

D is for Delusion: How delusional are they when it comes to their darling? Do they believe their darling loves them?

💭 How delusional? Yes. Just yes. Nishinoya is one of the most delusional yanderes out there.

💭 He doesn't EXACTLY believe that you're in love with him, but he knows you will be soon. As long as he treats you right, and he sure as heck is, you'll see just how much you two are meant for each other.

💭 Nishinoya knows that you're happy with him! Your tears and begging to go home is just you being a little confused. It just means he has to try harder!

E is for Expose: How much of their heart do they bear to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling? How much time will it take to trust them?

💧 You can know anything you want to if you just ask him! Even if you don't ask, he'll at least rant and rave about how amazing you are and every minuscule reason you're absolutely perfect.

💧 Nishinoya doesn't even need a second thought, a single hesitation. He'll tell you anything, anything!

F is for Fight: How would they react if their darling fought back?

👊 Nishinoya would be HEARTBROKEN. But... you're just confused, right? You're... You're just confused, yeah! This is new for you! He'll do better, he swears!

👊 He'll sit back and let you tire yourself out, just dodging you or closing you away in your room until you calm down. He'd never raise a hand against you, even if you punch him to death.

G is for Guilt: What would it take for them to feel guilty about their actions? Or do they feel guilty from the start?

😔 Nishinoya probably will never feel guilt. He's extremely delusional, like I said. He honestly believes he's improving your life by removing you from society.

😔 The only time I can imagine Nishinoya feeling guilty is if you got hurt somehow. He's supposed to be improving your life, and now you're hurt? He screwed up-

H is for Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

🔥 To be honest, it'd be hard to have a bad day with Nishinoya. He worships the ground you walk on, why would he make you miserable?

🔥 I guess resistance is futile though. You don't want to cuddle today? Well, he'll just squeeze tighter until you realize you do! You want to go home? This is your new home, silly!

I is for Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

👩‍❤️‍👨 Nishinoya really believes in a forever with you. When you both die, you'll go to heaven together. But before then: you'll grow old together.

👩‍❤️‍👨 He really cares about what you want. If you don't want kids, he won't force them on you. If you want as many kids as possible, he's your man! And he'll be the best father in the entire world!

J is for Jealousy: How easily do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

💢 It doesn't take much to get Nishinoya jealous. He's the one that loves you, adores you, and worships you. No one else treats you as well as he does, so they don't deserve to be in your vicinity, look at you, even breathe the same air as you!

💢 Did... did you just smile and laugh at his joke? Nononono- Nishinoya can be funny! And... and how DARE that guy tell you a joke? It better not have been a dirty joke either-

K is for Kidnap: How would they go about kidnapping their darling? How much do they plan it out?

🔒 Nishinoya wanted to kidnap you the moment he fell in love with you. That's probably not healthy (definitely not healthy) but he knew this twisted world could never take care of a goddess like you.

🔒 I think Nishinoya wouldn't be able to plan too far ahead. He's not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer. All it takes is one good opportunity and you're suddenly finding yourself in a cozy bedroom decorated in your favorite color and filled with your favorite things.

L is for Love Letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

💌 One day you're living your normal life and the next day you've got a small guy with black hair (except that little blonde streak) trailing after you like a lovesick puppy.

💌 Can you really complain when he's giving you cute little plushies of your favorite animals, your favorite treats, lots of chocolate, and literally everything you like. Wait... how does he know what you like?

M is for Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they acted before?

🎭 Uhhh kinda sorta? I mean, his friends wouldn't expect him to kidnap you BUT it just seems to them like Nishinoya moved on to the next Kiyoko. And, considering how he treated her, it's not all that surprising to see him acting obsessive towards you.

🎭 Honestly, I don't think anyone would notice the difference in obsessions. Tanaka would think it's totally normal and be super glad he no longer shows interest in Kiyoko or his older sister. Asahi might notice that Nishinoya's love for you is way beyond even his previous love for Kiyoko but I don't think it'd concern him too much.

N is for Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

🚓 He wouldn't. You're perfect in his eyes. The most I can see him doing is giving you some "alone time" in your room, but that's honestly just to calm you down if you're freaking out. You get a break and he can't access you. So it's more of a blessing for you and torture for him anyways.

O is for Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling? What rights can be earned with time and trust?

📜 You'd have free run of the house, mostly, but you aren't leaving. You're not safe out in the evil world out there, so please don't go near that locked door, okay?

P is for Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

🕊️ Nishinoya doesn't really know the meaning of patience but he'll do his best to give you the time you need. He genuinely doesn't understand why you're resisting his love so much and he keeps trying to speed up the process.

Q is for Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

🏃‍♀️ If you die, so does he. He can't live without you, so he'll follow you into the afterlife.

🏃‍♀️ To be fair, you probably can take advantage of his delusional mind and unwavering trust to escape. But that wouldn't be the end, unfortunately. Nishinoya would literally search the ends of the earth for you until he finds you.

R is for Rage: How do they act when angry? How do they calm down?

👿 Picture a toddler throwing a fit because he didn't get the toy he wanted. That's Nishinoya.

👿 You aren't getting hurt or anything, don't worry about that. You do, however, have to deal with him wrapping his arms around your legs and sobbing into them.

👿 He'll calm down when he's got his arms around you, his face buried in your hair, and you finally going limp in his hold.

S is for Soulmate: What made them fall in love with their darling? How did they first meet? When did they realize they loved their darling?

💍 You're so beautiful in your own unique way, and Nishinoya can't get enough of you. His biggest wish, the moment he met you, was to stroke your hair and soft skin.

💍 If you're a smarty pants, you were tutoring him. He specifically asked for a girl tutor. If you're not a smarty pants, he met you in class or you were both getting tutored in some sort of study group. It'd probably have to do with tutoring, okay?

💍 It was love at first sight. And if you called him senpai you sealed your own fate, okay? That's on you.

T is for Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

😭 You absolutely shatter Nishinoya's heart when you cry. He wants you happy! Seeing you sad means he's failing. He wants to try harder but you keep saying nonsense about how you "want to go home" or that you "miss your family". Why isn't he enough? He thought he was doing so well!

😭 Isolating yourself is the biggest punishment for Nishinoya. Being unable to touch you is enough torture, being unable to see or hear you? God, are you TRYING to kill him? He can't take this- please come out- PLEASE- He just needs to know you're okay! He loves you so, so much!

U is for Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

👌 Nishinoya is a worshipper x100. You could screw up as much as you want and he'll still think you're 100% perfect. You don't have to worry about him hurting or punishing you too harshly. Honestly, you're relatively safe with him.

👌 You actually have a good chance of escaping. He'll likely pick a house far away from society though and he DEFINITELY won't give up just because you got away. You better have a good plan because you really don't want him upping the security "until you get used to your new home a little more".

V is for Visit: Would they allow anyone else to visit their darling? Do they trust their darling to talk to their loved ones (in person, on the phone, etc.) or not at all?

🧳 Simple answer is no. You only need him. He's the only one worthy to be in your presence.

W is for Weakness: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

❌ You're literally the embodiment of his weakness. He's weak for you. Fake a pout or smile and he's wrapped around your finger in an instant.

❌ Although you can't negotiate your release or the ability to contact/visit the outside world, you CAN get practically anything you want. Which means you can use things he gives you to escape. Or you can just enjoy your life of being worshipped and spoiled.

X is for Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

🛐 Nishinoya would do ANYTHING for you. He would literally drop to his knees and kiss your feet- and he probably will. He may not be able to let you leave him or return to society, but he'll make up for it in every way possible.

Y is for Yearning: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

😍 Nishinoya wouldn't last long without you. He loves you so, so much and just wants you in his arms. The more you hang around others and the longer you go about your normal life, the more stressed you make him. He needs to rescue you from this awful world...

Z is for Zero Tolerance: What is the thing that always makes them snap? What things will they not allow their darling to do under any circumstances?

0️⃣ The thing that Nishinoya can't stand is you trying to escape, but he doesn't exactly "snap". It's more like a panic attack and tantrum as he drags you back into the house, begging you to explain what he can do better and what he did wrong.

🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣

I hope I did okay! I think it was shorter than Akaashi's, but Noya's a simpler creature!

Thank you for the request, my lovely Anon!

[cardansriddle]

Loki - Emerald Green

Summary: The reader is reading a book about Norse Mythology when she accidentally summons Loki. He is very intrigued by her and demands payment for disturbing him.

Warnings: Making out. Implied sex, but nothing more.

I flipped through the worn-out book my grandfather had given me two days ago for my birthday, my eyes skimming through the words as I greedily absorbed the new information. I skipped through a few pages before I halted my motions as I stumbled upon an illustration of another God, but it wasn’t the picture that intrigued me, it was his title:

Loki, the God of Lies and Mischief.

As a mischievous person who definitely lied a lot, I was intrigued. I started reading about him and for some reason, he stood out from the other Gods. His sole purpose wasn’t to do good or some other heroic bullshit that the others entitled themselves with, no, he was the complete opposite. Deciding that this was my favourite and the least boring God that I read about, I scanned the page and furrowed my eyebrows when I saw a rune at the bottom of the page. It most definitely was not printed on the page and looked like someone drew it there. 

I don’t exactly know why I did it, but the urge overcame the sensible part of my brain as I took a pen and drew the exact same rune on a paper. I doodled it a few more times, as I kept reading about him.

Suddenly, there was a hand covering my mouth, muffling my startled scream as I jumped. I turned around only to be met with the sight of a devilishly handsome man (the most attractive man I’ve ever laid my eyes upon if I was being totally honest) who was draped in emerald green robes.

How the hell did he get in here?

“I will remove my hand, do not scream or you will regret it.” He threatened and I nodded numbly. He looked unconvinced but removed his hand nonetheless, and really, I should have screamed, but I did not.

“Who are you?” I asked almost breathless, from what, I did not know.

“Pardon?” He asked surprised.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?” I questioned him once again and quickly scanned my room for a sharp object. Upon finding one, my eyes focused back on the stranger in front of me, my brain scheming for ideas on how to get it.

“Considering you summoned and called me to come here like a madman, I would assume you knew who I was.” His brows furrowed in genuine confusion and only then the realization hit me. But...it just couldn’t be true? I was surely hallucinating? 

“You mean to tell me I managed to summon Loki?” I asked bewildered. “You think just because you can sneak into my bedroom in a costume I would believe that you are a God? Oh please. Now get out!” I whisper-yelled, careful not to disturb my parents. If they knew I had a stranger in my bedroom- better yet, a boy, they would probably disown me.

I decided it was now or never as I quickly fled to the other side of the room, towards the shelf which had a souvenir on it that looked sharp enough to cut. I turned around and quickly grabbed him, the object pressing against his throat as his back collided with my chest. “Who the fuck are you? What do you want?” The only reply I got was an amused chuckle. I did not know it, but Loki was intrigued.

In a blink of an eye, the man who claimed to be Loki disappeared, yes, literally disappeared with a green flash, and then...I felt a knife held to my throat. 

“I am a God sweetheart. It takes a lot more than a cut on my throat to hurt me.” He said before releasing me and walking around my room, observing everything with careful eyes.

Loki’s stormy eyes flickered towards the bed where my doodle of the runes lay and he smirked. He didn’t say anything for a moment, before approaching me like a predator hunting its prey.

“From what you have read, who has captivated your attention the most?” He leaned down. “Who is, dare I say, your favourite god?” He breathed in my ear and I tried my best not to shudder at the close proximity. I had trouble grasping the idea of a fucking god standing right in front of me, so close, that if I stood on my tippy toes and leaned for a bit, our lips would be brushing against each other.

“Take your guess.” I smiled at him in response and he raised an elegant eyebrow. I trailed my index finger along the traces of gold on his green attire and batted my eyelashes innocently. 

“Thor?” He scoffed and I rolled my eyes at the guess. 

“Oh please. Everyone adores him but he’s just an arrogant boy who got a throne handed to him even though he did not deserve it.

He inhaled deeply before pulling back. “Interesting.” He muttered and moved so he was standing behind me. I could feel his hot breath on my neck and it took all my willpower not to turn around and crash my lips against his.

“You have brought me here, so you shall pay for the price of my company.” His hands settled on my hips as he pushed his front against my back.

“You think so highly of yourself,” I replied and leaned back against his chest involuntarily.

“I am a god, darling.” His deep chuckle sounded in my ear and that was all it took before I whipped around, grabbed his shirt and pulled him down so our lips would meet. He did not hesitate before kissing me back, equally as hungry and eager. One of his hands trailed up my body before circling around my throat and squeezing it, making me moan. I felt him smirk against my lips and I pulled back, breathing heavily. “I shall visit you every day from now on, my little mortal. Expect me. I will ravish you” His voice came deep and husky making me clench my thighs. His words affected me more than I liked to admit. “I like emerald green.” He whispered and when I opened my eyes, the little shit was gone. 

I released a breath I did not know I was holding in just as I pinched myself on the arm to make sure this was not a dream. Sighing heavily, I plopped down on my bed and stared at the page of the book with an illustration of Loki on it, before smiling dazedly.

Time to go shopping for an emerald green lingerie.

[imagine-loki]

Hiding In Plain Sight

TITLE: Hiding in Plain Sight CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 8 AUTHOR: wolfpawn ORIGINAL IMAGINE:Imagine coming from a line of nobility or royalty and being in an arranged marriage with Loki in an attempt to strengthen your kingdom / alliance with Asgard. You’re not entirely on board with the idea but figured that the best you could do was to get to know your fiancé.You form an agreement with Frigga for you to pose as Loki’s personal servant for a few months so you can get to know who Loki really is – beyond the veil of his responsibility to the Asgardian throne, behind all the masks he wears when facing the public, to really know who Loki is behind closed doors as you slowly fall for each other.How long will you keep up the ruse with the God of Lies? RATING: General Audience

NOTE - I finally got my ass in gear and finished something, thank Loki.

Raven thought over everything she and Frigga discussed. Her earlier worry that Frigga was blinded by motherly bias was very much confirmed. Loki was by no means a tyrant, he did not seem to have an aggressive bone in him. She knew he would never physically harm her. She also suspected that he would not be the kind to constantly say negative things to her and belittle her publicly but she knew too that behind everything, he would be thinking it, and that was an issue.

Frigga had ensured that until her family arrived, she would not be bothered too greatly. She instead spent time learning different aspects of Aesir court that could only be taught on her coming to Asgard, as it included court records that were kept in Asgard’s archives and could not be taken off the realm. It made for interesting reading, there were so many things she would never have even thought existed. Alfheim’s court was run so differently, it was a large learning curve for her, and she liked it. It gave her something to do while waiting that made her feel like she didn’t have to think of Loki all the time. On occasion, he came up in the court records, but they were in the grand scheme of things, where the royal family went and such so it was interesting but not overly informative. There was one situation that seemed to have arisen when Loki seemed to think it humorous to play tricks on his brother and a few of his friends and had been reprimanded in court for that but overall, he seemed to not be much of the situation. The only things of note from outside of the court that occurred but made it into the annals of it was an ambush in Vanaheim that noted his seidr was one of the reasons they made it to safety and when he was able to prove a young man innocent of a crime he would have faced a long sentence for. She read the articles pertaining to both with interest and noticed that Loki had a keen interest in justice and perceived imbalances of such. It was a trait to commend but again, she found herself wondering how to deal with her future with him. Clearly, he saw having to marry her as an injustice against him.

The knock on the door that stole her from her thoughts startled Raven. She walked over and opened it, not expecting anyone as Frigga had already told her that she was to deal with different matters through the day and would see her that evening and her family was not yet due to arrive. When she opened the door, the large burly figure on the other side caused her to frown slightly. “Your highness.” She bowed.

Thor nodded his head in acknowledgement. “Princess. I am sorry to bother you, but may I speak with you briefly?”

Raven moved to the side and closed the door again once he was inside. “Is everything alright?”

“I was going to ask you that. I noticed that Loki’s old maid had returned and that there was no sign of you anywhere. I was worried my morose brother scared you into hiding in some dark corner of Svartalfheim.” Thor meant it as a joke but the manner in which Raven looked awkwardly to the side caused him to worry. “He has not been overly rude, has he?”

“No more than usual, I suppose. He just…” She toyed with her hands.

“I can assure you, I will not run to Loki with whatever you say to me,” Thor promised.

“I could not stand his manner of speaking of me. He decided to actually attempt to learn something of me and Light Elf customs through my guise as an elven maid but that went about as well as a Jotun going to a sun for a holiday. He would not even use my name, he called me “Her” and “She” and “The Princess”. When I told him that it would be wise to use my name, he was uninterested, so I told him I could not stomach his disrespect any longer and left.” She explained.

Thor stood in silence for a short time thinking over what she had said. “Can I just say, that your official meeting as intended is going to be utter madness?” He chuckled.

“I have been hiding here reading, trying not to think about it.”

“How is that fairing?”

“Very badly. From what I am reading, Prince Loki does not take well to being lied to or deceit.”

“That is true, though the irony is utterly startling as he himself often lies and is deceitful, but I digress.”

“Two wrongs do not make a right.”

“No, that is true, but if you go left twice, you end up going right,” Thor argued.

“I am not entirely sure that has much logic to it but it’s not wrong, I suppose.” Raven laughed slightly. Thor smiled at her as a result. “Thank you, I think that is the first laugh I have had all week that is not at the expense of my current situation.”

“It does seem like it was by the look on your face.” Thor nodded. He sighed at the defeated features of the Elvish Princess. “Princess Raven, I know this is not ideal and I know my brother is immense work but I assure you, for as many faults as I can list him having, he is not a bad being and his recent adversity to the Light Elves is not a lifelong dislike, merely a reaction to the impending situation and I believe it is unfair to thrust this upon you, he is just trying to deal with it and I know he will cease his foolishness upon realising that this is not as bad as he seems to think it to be in his head.”

“How will he react when he realises who I am?” She asked. “I am trying to figure out myself how I think he will but I am not sure.”

“What have you thought would be his reaction?”

“Insulted and embarrassed that his mother and I schemed this. Perhaps angered at you too for not revealing the truth to him. Leading to an angry and scorned prince.”

“I would think that to be a fair assessment.” Thor nodded.

“Yet you seem to actually smile at the thought?”

Thor exhaled loudly. “My brother is very proud.” He explained. “Too proud, far too much so. And this will very much hurt his pride, I know that deeply but that is not a bad thing. Pride is not something one should have in great amounts as it is not a good trait. I too suffered this affliction but through Loki mostly, I have been cured of my pride and see now how harmful it actually is to one’s self. Loki has thought himself too much above others for too long, this will crash that delusion down and yes, if I am honest, I am interested to see how that goes. The worst you will endure is scathing comments, glares and such. I, on the other hand, will be subjected to abuse, both physical and verbal.”

“And you’re okay with that?” She asked, noticing the devious smile on his face.

“Yes, I am. It’s nice being the one not feeling fooled for once.”

“It was not about fooling him, it was about getting to know him before being married to him for the rest of my life,” Raven verified.

“Yes, but you fooled him by doing so,” Thor pointed out.

Raven became silent after that, uncertain of what to say. The closer the time came to reveal the situation, the more she regretted ever coming to Asgard before the wedding.

*

Loki eyed Thor with interest as he walked up the hallway of the royal wing. When Thor passed him, he noticed something about his brother that was off. “Where have you just come from?”

“What business is it of yours?”

“You smell of lavender and rosemary. Unless you have accidentally fallen into mother’s bathroom supplies, which, going by the fact you are dry, I sincerely doubt, then you were in the presence of someone who uses such perfuming plants and I am curious as to ascertain who that was.”

“That is entirely none of your concern.” Thor dismissed. “Why would you even care? So long as I am not encroaching on you and your business, what is it to you?”

“Now you have caused my curiosity to alter into intrigue.”

“I would have thought you would have been too busy readying for your impending nuptials to care what I am doing, seeing as you are to be wed so soon.” Loki scowled at the thought. “You know, if I were you, I would have some gratitude. Mother spoke to me about my perspective wives, and none come near the beauty of Princess Raven.”

“Ask Mother to give her to you then,” Loki growled before his brow furrowed. “How in the Norns would you know what she looks like?”

“We met her, years ago, in Vanaheim. Her and her brothers. I recall her being pretty then. According to Mother, she looks even more beautiful now. So, while I need to fret about the appearance of the woman I will have to have by my side, you are being gifted a pleasant one of good looks and mind and are complaining. Honestly, Loki, you state that you have it the least favourable of the two of us, yet on this front, you very much are at an advantage. Your wife will be appealing looking but even more importantly than that, she is well-versed in the role required of her as a princess herself and is genuinely a nice person and before you demand to know how I know this, the answer is simple, her brother Richard and I have spoken substantially of late. He is the second oldest of her brothers, he was at the same camp as us in Vanaheim.” Thor stated. He used the fact it was true that he was in correspondence with Richard because of the elf’s thirst for knowledge of the battles through time so that he could learn from them. In Vanaheim, he had spoken to Thor at length with regards to different battles and the Aesir prince promised that he would send books on different historical effects for the elf prince to better himself in his role as general of Alfheim. Never once had the elf asked for his sister, but Loki did not need to know that.

Loki gave a small disinterested sound. He had known of Thor corresponding with Richard, he was slightly startled that the two other princes were discussing Raven but it was not entirely implausible either. “Lucky me.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Sounds like she is perfect for you, you can have her.”

“She is not a fruit bowl, she’s a living being and you need to remember that,” Thor growled. “She comes from a culture where she is not as utilised as she should be but that will not equate to her being vapid and dim.”

“Norns, why is everyone so sure that this princess is so great? Between you and Mother, I am getting so sick of hearing about this. All I need now is Father bothering me about her too.”

“Father has said several times in my presence that this is the alliance we need to secure our ties to the Light Elves. Raven being married to you and the children that will result in such ensure that.”

“Unless one of her four brothers wed elsewhere, of course?”

“Three are marrying Light Elves and one is promised to a Vanir, General Everett’s daughter, Evie, is it? Their alliances are being set in stone via that.” Thor informed him. “He aligned his daughter after it was ensured you and Raven were to be wed. This alliance was integral to everything.”

“Whoopie.”

“Loki, please….just…” Thor sighed, he wanted to tell his brother to be nice to Raven, that she was a genuinely nice person but he knew that when it would be announced that she was actually the being that had been playing his maid and that his mother and the princess had concocted the plan and then, of course, when Loki realised that Thor knew who she was too, there would be a severe issue and he would not be easily calmed. “Try and be reasonable.”

“What were you going to say? Or was your brain not able to keep up with your train of thought?” Loki growled.

Thor sighed, no longer feeling the slight twinge of guilt for his brother at being deceived. “I was going to say, be nice to her when she arrives, but I gathered that was too much to ask.” he simply side-stepped his brother. “I hear they are arriving soon.”

Loki said nothing more to his brother as he left, too busy considering what was to come.

[hysterialevi]

Hjarta | Chapter 10

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

Author’s note: Sorry about the delay on this one guys! As I said before I wasn’t feeling that great these past few days because of the vaccine, but I’m doing much better now. Thanks for being patient.

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

A WHILE LATER

THE TEMPLE

This was it. This was finally the day.

After what felt like an eternity of going back and forth with his emotions, Eivor would see Sigurd married to Randvi at last, and the alliance would be set in stone. Their two clans would be joined into one fearsome army, and they would stop Kjotve from ever roaming Norway’s seas again.

It was a wondrous day for everyone in the village, considering the nature of their agenda. Vibrant decorations had been placed on every surface imaginable in Bjornheimr, and lively laughter could be heard ringing throughout the air.

Ribbons and banners hung from the roofs, lanterns dangled from the trees, and all across the ground, Eivor saw nothing but fresh flower petals adorning the paths. Meanwhile, the sounds of drums and lyres harmonized with the whispers of Mother Earth, and not too far away from him, the young man could see people dancing with one another.

It was a sight that normally would’ve inspired happiness in Eivor’s heart, but for today, all he felt was loneliness. 

Ever since he woke up, he hadn’t been able to shake off the shadow that loomed over him. The weight of Sigurd’s absence continued to linger on his shoulders, and it hindered his motivation to get involved with the festivities.

At the moment, he was currently sitting on a bench that rested just beside the temple and overlooked the wedding, giving him a clear view of its events. He saw clusters of familiar faces beckoning him to come join them, but no matter what, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. And he knew exactly why.

Underneath the wedding arch, Eivor saw Sigurd and Randvi chatting with a group of people as they shared drinks with one another, getting a head-start to the wedding’s celebrations.

The prince was dressed in an ornate, white tunic paired with a crown of flowers that sat on his head, and his broad physique had been relieved of all the armor that he usually wore. He was smiling and laughing in the presence of the other guests, and on the surface, it looked like he was actually enjoying himself.

But underneath all the pretenses, Eivor could tell that the man was just as conflicted as he was. Every time he got a brief moment to himself, or was spared from the attention of scattered onlookers, his expression would drop, and a look of despondency would darken his eyes.

Sigurd seemed miserable, if Eivor was being honest. It was clear that he wasn’t willing to settle down with this marriage, but knew he had to for the sake of their clans’ safety... and it was ruining him.

Eivor just wished he could summon the courage to speak to him again. There were a thousand different things he wished to say to the man, but he had no idea how to word any of them. 

How could he talk to Sigurd while acting as if nothing happened between the two of them? Or that they weren’t both upset about this wedding? How was it possible that they’d be able to keep up that kind of charade?

At this point, Eivor knew better than to believe he’d be able to conceal his true emotions. He had already seen how easy it was for Sigurd to crack open his shell, and he didn’t want to risk losing control of any more of his impulses. Especially not on a day such as this. Ingrida’s warnings had yet to take their leave from the Wolf-Kissed’s list of worries, and the last thing Eivor wanted was to be the reason they came true.

“Everyone!” Arngeir called out, breaking Eivor’s train of thought as the music came to a pause. “Everyone, gather around!”

The jarl was currently standing at the front of the wedding with Styrbjorn at his side, and held a tall tankard of mead in his grasp. He addressed the crowd before them while Sigurd lingered next to the archway, greeting his people with a radiant smile.

“My brothers!” Arngeir said proudly, “my sisters! Today is a day for celebration. The seas of this war have been relentless with chaos, and we have endured a great deal to stand where we are now. I know many of you have sacrificed your heart and soul in the name of survival. You have fought, you have bled, and you have known pain unlike any other. But no more. Today,” he placed a hand on Styrbjorn’s shoulder, “the Bear and Raven clans will become one, and we will finally have what it takes to deliver Kjotve into the jaws of Nidhoggr himself!”

A unanimous cheer erupted from the villagers.

“So, drink!” Arngeir exclaimed over their voices. “Drink and feast to your hearts’ content! Let your spirits sing with joy as we celebrate this marriage, and let the gods hear our thundering war cries when the time for battle comes! May Freya bless this new couple with her loving embrace, and may Tyr guide us into victory. Or to Valhalla.” He raised his tankard in the air. “Skål, my drengir!”

The guests returned the toast. “Skål!”

A series of merry cries rose from the crowd as they happily downed their drinks in unison, eager to get the mead flowing. The music of the festival quickly resumed its lively beat, and chirps of laughter returned to the air. 

As for Eivor, the man remained seated by the temple and simply watched the festivities unfold, wishing more than anything that he could talk to Sigurd again. He knew the prince would likely welcome him with open arms despite the tension between them, but even then, there was just something holding him back.

He didn’t have the strength to approach Sigurd now that the man was officially married. Despite all his efforts to ignore it, Eivor did feel a spark of jealousy flickering in his heart whenever he laid eyes on Randvi, and he hated himself for it.

Randvi didn’t deserve any animosity. She was simply doing what she was told, just like Sigurd. Still, part of Eivor secretly wished he could be in her position. He wished he could openly display his affection for the prince, and not constantly feel the need to hide it.

But alas, there was no longer any grey area about the matter. Sigurd and Randvi had officially been bound by this alliance, and Eivor would have to stay away from him, no matter how alluring the thought might’ve been. They wouldn’t be able to repeat what they did last night, and to go against this marriage would’ve been a betrayal. 

“Eivor?” A stray voice blurted out, causing the Wolf-Kissed to glance over his shoulder. He hadn’t expected anyone else to be up here, and yet, he found himself gazing back at the one man who could’ve potentially eased his pain.

Ulfar.

“What are you doing here, little cub?” The old raider asked, pushing through the snow. “I assumed you’d be enjoying the festivities by now.”

Eivor turned back around and rested his elbows on his knees, staring blankly at the ground.

“I’m not in the mood.”

Ulfar cocked a brow at the response. “Not in the mood for a drink? That doesn’t sound like you.” A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “Must be something bad.”

He took a seat next to Eivor, allowing himself to rest for a moment.

“...Care to share your thoughts?”

The young man paused, throwing Ulfar’s inquisitive nature right back at him. “Before I do -- what are you doing up here? I’m surprised you’re not at my father’s side. He usually keeps you close.”

“Indeed, but today’s not exactly a usual day, is it? Eirik and I are patrolling the village at your father’s behest. He wants us to make sure the people are safe whilst they celebrate the wedding.”

Eivor glanced at the view in front of them. “See anything yet?”

“Nothing urgent so far. Eirik spotted a longship on the horizon earlier, but it’s impossible to see which clan it belongs to from here. He’s keeping an eye on it as we speak.” The warrior tilted his head at the other man. “And what about you? What brings you to the temple on a day like this?”

Eivor hesitated. “I... I don’t know if I should say.”

A tone of genuine concern took hold of Ulfar’s voice. “Is it truly that bad?”

“Yes. I’m afraid so.”

The raider leaned forward in his seat, looking the young man in the eye. “Eivor. Speak plainly to me. What’s going on?”

The Wolf-Kissed turned away from Ulfar, pondering whether or not to tell him. He trusted the man to keep this conversation between them -- he had never known him to be a snitch -- but even then, part of him feared how Ulfar would react.

Eivor was aware of the warrior’s doubts towards Sigurd after all, and the last thing he wanted was to tarnish the prince’s reputation even further. This alliance was as fresh as a newborn babe, and the young man wondered if it would’ve been foolish to expose his secrets so soon.

Still, Eivor knew he couldn’t keep it in for much longer. The stress that came with suppressing his emotions was quickly taking its toll, and he needed to let it out somehow. 

“Ulfar...” the young man said, “I’ll tell you what’s going on because I trust you, but this must stay between us. I mean it. No one else can hear about this. Alright?”

The older man’s brow was crinkled with confusion, but he complied nonetheless. “...Alright, Eivor. I understand. Now, what’s the matter?”

Eivor took a deep breath. “...Do you remember the conversation we had at the feast? When the Raven Clan first arrived?”

Ulfar chuckled. “No, not really. I’m an old man now, Eivor. My memory isn’t what it once was.”

Eivor returned the laugh. “You were telling me about Geirmund’s fortress. And how you met Linnea.”

The raider’s expression lit up with remembrance. “...Ah, yes.”

“You also asked me if I had found anyone significant in my life,” he continued. “I told you no.”

“And?”

Eivor knotted his hands together in nervousness. “Well... that’s changed recently.”

“Has it? Then why do you seem so upset? That’s a good thing, Eivor.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew who it was.”

Ulfar shrugged. “Well then, who is it?”

The Wolf-Kissed gazed down at the wedding. “...The man who just got married today.”

The old warrior followed his line of sight, instantly falling into silence once he realized whom Eivor was referring to.

“...You mean Sigurd?” Ulfar clarified, unable to hide the dread that was rising in his chest. “Oh, Eivor...”

“I know.” The younger man said. “I know it’s bad. I’ve told myself I shouldn’t feel this way over and over again, but no matter what I do, these thoughts just won’t go away. Sigurd and I tried to keep things platonic in the beginning, but over time, we just... couldn’t help it anymore.”

Ulfar let out a troubled sigh. “...And what about Randvi? Does she know about this?”

“No, I don’t think so. You’re the only one so far.”

That seemed to bring some relief to the raider. “Good. You’d do best to keep it that way. There’s no telling how others would react, especially the king.”

Eivor pressed a finger on his temple. “What should I do though, Ulfar? Out of honor, I can’t approach Sigurd now that he’s officially been wed. To entice him would be wrong. But I also can’t ignore how I feel.”

Ulfar’s gaze fell to the ground. “...I wish I had an easy answer for you, little cub. But the truth is, nothing about this will be easy. You have a special connection with Sigurd, and it isn’t going to disappear just because of this alliance.”

The young man grew despondent. “I only wish there was some way to forget about all this. Perhaps then, my mind would finally let me rest.”

The warrior shot a glance at his friend. “Eivor, are you listening to me?”

Eivor paused, urging Ulfar to continue his train of thought.

“You can’t make these feelings go away.” He reiterated. “You’re trying to fight a battle that’s already been lost. The best thing you can do right now is talk to Sigurd. Straighten things out with him. Clean up this mess before it becomes worse. It may not bring the outcome you want, but it will bring the closure you need. Trust me.”

Eivor peered in the prince’s direction, reluctant to accept reality. He knew there was truth to Ulfar’s words, but a part of him still wished for another solution. A solution that didn’t involve discarding his relationship with Sigurd. 

“...Perhaps you’re right.” He conceded in a downcast manner.

The raider’s voice softened with sympathy. “I’m sorry, Eivor. This must be difficult for you. But it isn’t your fault.”

That piqued Eivor’s curiosity. “You don’t think so?”

“No, of course not. We do not choose who we love. The Nornir determine that for us. Unfortunately though, our plans do not always match what the gods have in mind. I only wish you didn’t have to be the one dealing with this dilemma.”

“...So do I.”

Ulfar switched to a more encouraging tone, hoping to lift the young man’s spirits. “Hey, there’s no need to sulk. Remember what Ingrida always says. Any attempt to deviate from the path will be met with what was destined to be. Your time will come. Just not today.”

Eivor displayed a faint smile in response to his words. “Thank you, Ulfar. I--”

“--Ulfar...!”

Interrupting their conversation, a third voice suddenly jumped into the scene, causing the two men to glance towards the source. The voice was sharpened with a deep rasp that sat on its edge, and it seemed to scrape against the throat of its owner. It didn’t have much force standing behind it, but even then, Eivor could still hear the desperation behind its words.

“Yes?” Ulfar replied at the sound of his name. “What is it--?”

He came to a halt, taking a moment to process the peculiar sight approaching him.

Not too far away from them, Ulfar and Eivor saw Eirik limping towards the temple, practically dragging his feet through the snow. His labored breathing trudged along to the rhythm of his heavy footsteps, and his movements were sluggish with exhaustion. The main detail that caught Ulfar’s attention though, was the fresh trail of blood dotting the ground in his wake.

“Eirik!” The raider exclaimed in alarm, immediately rushing over to him. He supported the man’s weight in his arms, lifting him up as he spoke.

“Hey,” he called out, trying to get his attention. “Hey! Can you hear me? What happened to you?”

Eirik weakly gripped onto one of Ulfar’s arms, staring him in the eye. “...K-Kjotve. He’s... here. You must--” a numbing pain racked his body, coaxing a groan out of him.

“We must what?” Ulfar asked. But Eirik had already moved on.

“...please,” the injured man whispered, “keep my mother safe. Tell her... it isn’t...”

He fell limp in the old warrior’s embrace, passing onto the next realm with his final words trapped in his throat. His body keeled forward as his spirit departed from its shell, and upon greeting death, Eirik tumbled into the snow, revealing a number of arrows protruding from his back.

Before Ulfar had any time to mourn though, the rallying cry of a horn suddenly blared in the distance, calling for Bjornheimr’s warriors as Kjotve’s men emerged from the shadows.

The sounds of battle quickly rose throughout the village, and down at the wedding, Eivor could see Sigurd rushing to defend their people, storming around with a sword in his hand.

“Shit!” Ulfar cursed, rising from the ground. He whipped his axe out of its sheathe and placed a protective hand over Eivor’s chest, urging him to take shelter.

“Eivor, gather any survivors you can find and take them to the longhouse! I’ll join the other warriors and protect the wedding.”

“Wait!” The young man protested, grabbing Ulfar’s wrist just before he could leave. 

The raider glared at him with a bewildered look in his eye. “What is it?”

“...Let me defend the wedding. I’ll go in your stead.”

Ulfar clearly wasn’t on board with the idea. “What? This is no time to be arguing! You need to go, Eivor. Now!”

“Please,” he insisted. “I need to make sure Sigurd’s safe. He’s down there with the rest of my family. Let me do it. I’ll do whatever it takes to get them out of there alive. You know I will.”

The older man quickly shifted his mind, not willing to waste another second.

“...Fine,” he said in a hasty tone. “Do what you must, but do it carefully. I don’t want you following Eirik’s footsteps today. And don’t forget about the alliance, Eivor. I know how you feel about Sigurd, but we cannot lose him for the sake of this war either. Do you understand?”

Eivor gave him a firm nod. “I understand.”

“Good. Then may the Defender of Midgard guide our hand today, and may we pummel Kjotve’s skull with an axe at last.”

“Odin watch over you, Ulfar.”

The raider parted ways with the young man. “Odin watch over us all.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A FEW MINUTES LATER

THE WEDDING

Sprinting towards the ruined festival, Eivor fought his way through clumps of Kjotve’s warriors as they stormed the village and set fire to the buildings, staining the sky red with their morbid flames. Vivid sparks could be seen erupting from black pillars of smoke, and in the distance, the young warrior saw nothing but clouds of ash obscuring the path.

It looked like Ragnarök itself had been unleashed on Bjornheimr. Shrieks of panic filled the air like an orchestra gone mad, and just sitting on the horizon, Eivor spotted the striking silhouettes of Kjotve’s ships latching onto their docks.

It was a view the young man had been dreading for the past decade of his life. The memory of his parents’ deaths remained fresh in his head, and terror paralyzed his heart at the idea of losing a loved one again.

...But no. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t. Ulfar was depending on him to protect everyone at the wedding, and that was exactly what he’d do. Even if it meant sacrificing himself. He wouldn’t simply stand by and watch people die like before. This time, he would defend them.

Heaving his axe with a ferocious amount of effort, Eivor let out a rough shout as he lodged the sturdy blade into the neck of a raider, cutting them down within a heartbeat.

By now, it looked like Kjotve’s men had taken control of the wedding and gathered a handful of captives, lining them up as if they were livestock for sale. They had bound them with numerous bundles of rope and shoved them down to their knees, forcing them to watch their attackers from below. 

What concerned Eivor the most though, was that the raiders were no longer alone.

Towering over the rest of the scene like a lion searching for its prey, the Wolf-Kissed spotted the very same man who slew his parents all those winters ago, now staring down at the prince he loved. His face had been folded with wrinkles due to years of waging countless wars, but the rest of his stature remained as intimidating as ever.

Eivor felt like a scared little boy again just by looking at him. Kjotve’s mere presence was more than enough to bring back a flood of unwanted nightmares, and the young man suddenly found himself questioning whether or not he was fit for this task. He still heard his mother’s desperate cries thundering in his head as if she were there, and the haunting view of his father’s lifeless gaze had been branded into the back of his eyelids.

“Do not abandon him or his memory,” Eivor thought to himself, repeating Ulfar’s words from when he was just a boy. “You wish to reclaim the honor your father lost? Then you must fight for it.”

A sprout of fury flared up in his chest at the profound memory, and he shouted across the battlefield at Kjotve himself, speaking with a level of rage he had never experienced before.

“Kjotve!” Eivor roared, leading the man to come to a halt.

The gargantuan raider turned around to see who was calling his name and peered through the smoke, narrowing his eyes as he tried to identify their face.

Emerging from the sea of fire, Kjotve saw nothing but a lone warrior prowling towards him with a strangely familiar axe in his grip, sauntering across the blood-stained dirt. Gusts of wind distorted the ash blanketing the battlefield around him, and behind strands of golden hair, Kjotve spotted a pair of arctic orbs glaring back at him, wide-open with wrath.

Before he could address the warrior though, his son stepped forward first.

“What do you want, bacraut?” Gorm barked, pointing a finger at them. “A blade to the gullet, perhaps?”

Kjotve held out an arm. “Hold, Gorm. Don’t bare your fangs just yet. There’s something... different about this one.”

The man scoffed. “Different? He looks just like every other ‘warrior’ in this village to me. Weak and cowardly.”

“...Perhaps,” Kjotve said, glancing down, “but that axe...” He approached the stranger. “You there! Where did you find that weapon? Who are you?”

The blonde viking stopped in his tracks, keeping his gaze nailed onto the other man as the entire wedding froze to see what was going on.

“My name is Eivor.” He announced, his voice resembling the hiss of a serpent. “...You know me.”

Kjotve grinned immediately upon hearing the name and strolled towards his opponent, meeting him in the middle. 

“...Eivor? The son of Varin and Rosta? Heh. My, my. You were just a little boy the last time we met, Wolf-Kissed. I must say, I’m surprised to see you drawing breath even after all these years. You’ve certainly grown a lot since then. But alas... you are still no more than a child chasing after his father’s honor. It seems you’ll never learn.”

Eivor clenched his hand around the grip, doing his best to keep his anger at bay.

“...I have no interest in your taunts, Kjotve. I’ve only come for my family. Let them go.”

The older man laughed and planted his battle axe in the ground, resting an elbow on its hilt. “And tell me, Eivor -- why exactly would I do that?”

The young warrior raised his own weapon, looking at the line of captives sitting behind Kjotve. “I may have been defenseless during our first encounter, but don’t think I’ll cower away from you now. I will take my family back, with or without shedding your blood.”

Sigurd’s head perked up at the response, and he struggled in his restraints. “Eivor...! Don’t!”

Kjotve noticed the prince’s reaction, allowing him to think of a different approach. He doubted there would be much difficulty in slaying the Wolf-Kissed one-on-one, but he wanted to indulge in another method.

“Hmm,” he said in thought, “you wish to rescue these fools from their fate? Perhaps... there is a way we could arrange that.”

Gorm snapped his head in Kjotve’s direction. “Father!”

“Silence, boy.” He commanded. “These are my slaves. Not yours. I will bargain with them as I please.”

Kjotve shifted his focus back to Eivor, presenting his idea. “Listen to me carefully, son of Varin. I am willing to offer your people a way out of this, but only one. It’s your choice whether you take it or leave it.”

Eivor grew impatient. “Just say what you have to say and be done with it.”

The slaver smirked maliciously. “As you wish.” 

Kjotve tugged his weapon out of the ground and rested the blade on his shoulder, preparing it for battle. “...Lay down your axe. Surrender yourself to me, and I will let everyone else go, including your beloved prince here.”

Eivor fell silent at the demand and clenched his jaw in spite, almost having to stop himself from laughing at the absurdity of the request.

“You expect me to believe you?” He nearly growled. “After you spewed the same lies to my father, and broke your oath to him? No. I won’t do it.”

Kjotve lifted a brow. “Are you certain, Wolf-Kissed? You could be right, of course... but are you willing to bet your family’s lives on it?”

The young warrior’s expression twisted into a glower. “...You are a rat, Kjotve. A dishonorable wretch that will forever serve as a sheathe to Nidhoggr’s fangs...!”

The raider merely chuckled at the response, undeniably amused by his enemy’s distress.

“Well, if you prefer, I could always erase your doubt and simply kill them all right now.” Kjotve positioned his blade under Sigurd’s chin. “Starting with him.”

Eivor felt the urge to leap forward then and there, but held himself back. 

“Don’t... touch him.” He whispered, almost sounding feral. The slaver smiled back at him.

“You know what you have to do to stop me.”

The Wolf-Kissed gritted his teeth in rage and strengthened his hold on the axe, practically crushing it in his grip as his knuckles turned white. 

He couldn’t believe it. After thirteen years of planning for revenge and fending off the grief that came with his loss, he was now being forced into the exact same position as his father, and being humiliated like a thrall. Everyone’s lives depended on the sacrifice of his honor, but to comply would’ve meant giving up everything he had fought for.

What would happen to Eivor if he accepted the deal? What would Kjotve do with him? Would he truly keep his word and set the captives free? Or would he simply cut the young warrior’s throat, and demolish the rest of the village once he was dead?

Eivor didn’t know what to do anymore. He couldn’t bear the idea of watching anything happen to Sigurd or his family, but he also despised the thought of failing to avenge his previous one. 

Kjotve was the one who took everything from him. He destroyed his home, his childhood, and his life. To spare him now would’ve been an even greater shame than the one his father suffered.

But still... he loved Arngeir. He loved his sisters. And most of all, he was starting to fall in love with Sigurd. He had gotten so used to a world with the prince’s influence, that to see him drop out of it now would’ve devastated him.

He couldn’t allow him to die. He couldn’t disappoint Ulfar, and he couldn’t let the alliance crumble. Sigurd’s life carried far more value than his, and at this point, Eivor was willing to do anything to preserve it.

So, without saying another word, the young man reluctantly bent down towards the ground and gazed at Sigurd with an apologetic look, gently placing the axe right by his feet.

“No!” The prince exclaimed, his eyes widened with panic. “What are you doing? Pick up your axe, Eivor! Remember what this snake did to your father! Don’t let him corner you into his trap--!”

“--Quiet, you!” Gorm commanded, striking Sigurd over the head.

Meanwhile, Kjotve ignored his prisoner’s cries and grinned in satisfaction, focusing entirely on the man in front of him. 

“It seems you were correct, Gorm,” he remarked. “He is the same as everyone else. Weak... and cowardly. Just like his father. I should’ve guessed.”

Eivor’s glare only sharpened. “I did what you asked, Kjotve. Now, do your part and set them free!”

Kjotve shook his head in a patronizing manner, laughing shamelessly at the unarmed viking. A sheen of deceit plastered itself onto his barbaric smile, and simply by looking at him, the young man knew he had been fooled.

“Did you really think it’d be any different this time? I almost pity you, Wolf-Kissed. You’re an even bigger fool than Varin was. I suppose you’ll be joining him and your mother in Helheim, then. Send them my regards.” He turned to his son, bellowing a new list of orders at him. “Gorm! Take the strongest ones back to the ship alive. We can make use of them. As for the rest -- kill them all. We’ll leave their corpses for the ravens to feed.”

Gorm began strolling towards the prisoners. “With pleasure.”

“Wait!” Eivor shouted. But it was too late.

Within the blink of an eye, the man had already unsheathed his blade and pulled Randvi’s head back by the hair, preparing to slit her throat. Just before he could carry out Kjotve’s commands though, a lone arrow suddenly bolted through the air and planted itself into his shoulder, sending him reeling to the ground.

He flailed around for a moment and flicked his eyes around in shock, only to see the archer face-to-face once the chaos finally settled.

It was Ulfar.

“Cut them down!” The raider yelled, his voice thundering across the village.

Charging out from the smoke, Eivor saw a small army of men storming the wedding as Kjotve’s people froze in bewilderment, giving their clan the exact opening they needed to shift the balance of this fight.

The warriors immediately seized the battlefield and overwhelmed it like a fire feeding on kindling, driving their weapons through the hearts of their enemies. They hunted them down like animals running through a field, and showered the invading raiders with a hurricane of arrows.

As for Kjotve himself, the man fled to his longship with as many prisoners as possible and nearly dragged Gorm onto the boat, signaling his men to leave Bjornheimr. It was evident to him that he was now on the losing side of this fight, but even then, he still managed to take a group of captives that he was no doubt going to sell -- including Thora.

Ulfar, on the other hand, was busy freeing what prisoners remained. He had already released Randvi from her binds and was now carving his way through Sigurd’s rope, setting the prince free.

“Are you hurt?” The older man asked, helping Sigurd up to his feet.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” He blurted out, eager to contribute to the battle. But Ulfar wasn’t ready to let him go just yet.

“Where’s Eivor?” He questioned. “I was able to see Kjotve and Gorm, but I couldn’t find the boy from where I stood.”

Sigurd gestured in the opposite direction. “He’s over there. He’s--” The man came to an abrupt pause, leading Ulfar to follow his line of sight.

“What is it?” The raider said, but it didn’t take him long to realize.

Kneeling in the dirt, Ulfar found Eivor sitting somberly amongst all the pandemonium, seemingly unfazed by the death and destruction surrounding him. His eyes were locked onto the axe lying beside his legs, and just by observing the boy, the old warrior could tell that he was trapped in another battle of his own.

Eivor just let his parents’ murderer escape for a second time. After thirteen years of waiting for him. He had been tricked by the same deal his father fell prey to, and now, there was nothing but humiliation weighing him down. 

He felt like a complete failure. His honor had been stolen from him once again, and now all of Bjornheimr was going to know it. They would see him as a coward for deciding to drop his weapon, and Kjotve’s forces would only grow stronger because of it.

But the part that stood out the most to Ulfar, was the fact that he did it all for Sigurd. Eivor had only known the man for about two weeks, and yet, he was willing to give up Valhalla itself in exchange for his survival. He knew the possibility of Kjotve going back on his word was likely, and even then, he still decided to take the risk.

Just how much did this man mean to him, exactly? Ulfar was aware of Eivor’s feelings for Sigurd, but he never expected the two of them to share such an adamantine bond. He could see now that the young man was truly in love with the prince... and it frightened him to the core.

This would not bode well for the marriage. Eivor could try to conceal his emotions as much as he wanted, but Ulfar already knew it would be for naught. It was impossible to ignore a love as strong as this, and he could only pray that the alliance wouldn’t fall apart so long as Eivor’s affections remained alive.

He supposed the best thing he could do now was guide the young man. Ulfar didn’t plan on telling anyone about his secret, but he also knew it’d be foolish to let his feelings roam free.

Kjotve was still out there. His army was still growing. And now, he had Thora as a slave.

If the people of Bjornheimr wanted to rescue her from his grasp, they would need the help of Styrbjorn’s entire clan to assault the slaver’s fortress. It would require every single warrior they had under their command, and Ulfar didn’t intend on letting Eivor’s hidden relationship put Thora’s safety in jeopardy.

He just hoped he wouldn’t hurt the boy by doing so. It was clear to him how much the Wolf-Kissed cared about Sigurd, so the last thing he wanted was to push the two of them apart.

But Arngeir needed Ulfar to maintain a clear mind. He needed his pragmatism. He needed his rationality. That was the whole reason he had kept Ulfar at his side for almost two decades now.

As much as it pained the old man, he would have to approach this objectively. He would have to keep Eivor away from Sigurd’s company, and ensure that the alliance remained strong.

Otherwise, he had no idea how the future would unfold. If anyone learned about their secret affair, Ulfar assumed that all hell would break loose. The friendship between their clans would instantly shatter, and the fires of a second war would likely ignite.

It was a dilemma that Ulfar wouldn’t wish on anyone in a paternal position, but alas, it was the one the gods had granted him. So, with a quick shift of the mind, the warrior brought his attention back to the battle at hand and left Eivor alone, allowing him to regather his thoughts.

He assumed the boy would be in a state of distress after the day’s events, and he didn’t want to be the reason he finally tipped over the edge.

Ulfar had enough to worry about at the moment, and he imagined it was just the beginning.