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hecohansen31 · 4 years ago

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The Princess & The Hacker

Hacker! Sihtric x Sex Worker! Ealhswith (Modern AU)

Chapter (1): The Ice Cream Shop

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

Excuse the very idiotic title, and I also want to put a disclaimer that this is one of of my first time writing a character x character fic, and I hope you won’t hate it!

I also want to thank @volvaaslaug, who has helped me a bit through the initial creation of this fic and who has heard all my annoying talks about this pairing, so special thank you to you (and I hope you won’t regret not lowering your expectations!).

I do think that there’ll be more chapters, if you like it, so please make sure to let me know so that I can see if people are interested about sequel!

Feedback is always welcome, in any way shape and form: it makes my heart beat stronger and my fingers write faster

SUMMARY: When Eahlswith is a victim of a revenge porn scheme, she is given a rather interesting contact, an hacker, that might solve all her problems, and do much more.

WORDS: 4,3 K

WARNINGS: Mention of Sex Work, Revenge Porn, Sex, Mention of Past Child Abuse, Hacker, Incorrect Techonology Knowledge.

Ealhswith had thought that that day wouldn’t have been different from the previous one.

And the one before that.

It’d be just another client, a simple lousy fuck she’d fake enjoying for the sake of finishing early and go back home earlier so that she could work a bit more on her final thesis and then go to bed to a nice time.

The dude hadn’t been the best of her clients for sure, excessively rough.

Although she was a professional in the sex industry, this didn’t mean that she wanted to be tossed out like a doll.

Just buy a plastic one, if that’s what you like.

It’d be cheaper.

And when the he had officially finished, he had been even more horrible to her, insisting that the agency for which Ealhswith worked would have received the money, and not her.

Which was an option, but this way she wouldn’t have had any kind of tip and seeing all the effort she had done to make that prick raise…

… she felt like she deserved it.

But she was already a bit late on her own time plan and she had just flipped the guy off in her mind, pushing her clothes quickly on and setting up a reminder on her phone for the agency to have them blacklist the guy so that he wouldn’t harass any of the other girls.

She also insisted that he hadn’t paid her, yet, preferring to settle it with the agency.

So, they had to torment him in case he didn’t pay by the end of the week.

She was thankful for the agency, although they were quite tough and took most of her earning, she felt more comfortable, since they’d run check on the clients before sending the girls and were some kind of legalized organization, which meant that she paid taxes but she didn’t risk getting arrested.

And the agency was very private about both towards the clients and both towards the girls and the boys working for them, which was great because although Ealhswith wasn’t ashamed of her work, she didn’t want her family to discover it.

She had started with modelling, but then moved quickly on the sex industry since it’d get her enough money to continue on studying and keep her apartment, meanwhile she finished her studies, without having to weight on her family, since they already had their own problematics.

Many who had discovered her profession had commented about why she couldn’t have a normal job, like a bartender or a waitress, but the truth was that those jobs didn’t make enough money for her to take care of everything around her and involved much more groping than many thought.

And if she had to be groped on a daily basis, she preferred to be paid for it.

In the end, it was just a job like another.

And this meant that she didn’t tolerate any disrespect on her job.

So, when the client of that afternoon had texted her, right when she had come back from a small trip to the grocery store for some comfort food, she had been ready to tell him that he had to contact the agency to set up another problem and this number was to be used only after having set up the appointment.

But she had been soon horrified to discover that he hadn’t meant to book another appointment, but he instead had sent her a video and for a moment she had thought he had sent it to the wrong number.

And then she had downloaded it and played it.

And she had been happy to have closed the door behind her before.

It was a video of her… and him… doing what they had done that afternoon.

And her entire life fell down onto her, heavily.

He must have set up an hidden camera to record her, and she hadn’t checked since she had thought that the agency wouldn’t have allowed something like this to happen.

She had never heard any of her colleagues comment about such a situation.

And then another message had come up.

A blackmailing one.

‘Let’s meet again and this time free and if I am satisfied, I won’t share this on the whole internet’.

Her heart sunk because although he had no idea who she truly was, it was her face, the one in the video and although it wasn’t anything more than a badly made amateur movie, it would have ruined not only her career had it been published, but also her life.

Her parents would have disowned her.

She had tried to calm down the man, already feeling her heartbeat increase at the thought of that video being sent to any other people, but the man confirmed that she was the only one who had received it…

… and would remain the only one, had she allowed him to take advantage of her.

Something that she refused to do.

But had she truly any chance to refuse him?

A thing such as this could ruin a normal person’s life, but it would have been so much worse for her, since she was sure that if this got out, it would have tainted her image, not only in everyone’s eyes but also in agency’s ones.

The agency wanted their workers to have a clean and discreet façade and a video like that might have ruined that.

She hadn’t known what to do, who to talk to.

She didn’t know how to handle all of this.

She hadn’t so much technic knowledge to know whether this treat was true or not.

And eventually she has settled on calling Christine, a fellow friend who worked also in the escorting industry something that made her think she might understand and be discreet about it.

But she hadn’t certainly expected what Christine had told her after knowing about the blackmail.

“…it happened to you too?!” she seemed almost not surprised that such a thing was possible and then went on explaining that she had something similar happening to her, with a client taking photos of her meanwhile she was in the bathroom, also claiming to publish them in case she didn’t comply everything he asked of her “… sadly it is much more common than you might think”.

“But… I thought… the agency would run some checks and…” she was panicking, but the knowledge that someone else had been in the same situation helped her quite a bit.

Christine insisted on explaining much more as she came over to Eahlswith’s house, something for which she was thankful, not wanting to be alone in such a moment, and Christine was quite a relief, explaining fully her story and how scared she had been, but she had managed to solve it as she had passed Ealhswith a phone contact.

‘… he is a hacker… a good one’ she explained, calmly since Ealhswith was looking like a frightened animal “… he took care of my problem, after a girl from the agency heard about it. He is clean and not too expensive, but most importantly he does the job amazingly”.

‘Is it… is it seriously this common?’ she asked softly to her friend, once she had come down from the scare.

‘Oh sweetie, don’t you ever browse porn sites?’ a tight expression of annoyance appeared on Christine’s face ‘… revenge porn is the literal most popular shit on there, sadly’.

The following day, after assuring her blackmailer that she agreed to his ‘deal’ she had come to see the hacker that Christine had suggested her, coming to stop at a small apartment, the place where Sthric, the hacker’s name, had told her to meet him.

She had almost expected something more… sketchy, although Christine had explained her that he was ‘one of the good guys’.

But that apartment looked quite cozy and small, although it seemed every inch of an ex-fratboy’s mansion, with a few decorations hanging from a small balcony, that looked horribly misplaced, but she thought that the last thing she could do was comment on his choosing in exterior design.

She moved to the door, having been told to ring the doorbell and ask for Sihtric, but she didn’t need to do much, because right after the doorbell had been rung, a tall guy was in front of her, looking very much unlike the nerdy hacker she had expected.

He looked actually handsome and for a moment she doublechecked the address, but it was right and the guy sent her a quick look examining her, before muttering a tight:

‘… you must be Ealhswith’ the way he spoke was measured and attentive, as if he didn’t get many chances to talk, but his voice had a pretty sound to, definitely reassuring ‘… can we walk a bit, meanwhile we talk about your problem? My house suddenly is… full’.

The way he said it told Ealhswith that he wasn’t in the slightest happy of that situation.

She just nodded, surprised by the fact that he didn’t look further than her face, focusing his gaze onto his own shoes.

That was strange since she knew for sure that men whenever they were informed of her profession wouldn’t stop looking at her body as if they could already see her naked.

The previous night she had sent Sihtric a small text, explaining him her situation, wanting to know whether he would be able to solve her problem or not, to which he had answered that he’d have to see and preferred to talk with her about it, if she was free the following day.

She had expected the ‘come on’s and some flirting pick-up lines, but he had just stayed professional, not saying a word more than he needed.

Something that was echoed with the way he moved, carefully, almost as if he wasn’t used to his body’s shape, having suddenly grown into it in one night.

They had moved onto the road, him moving by her side, with a lengthy distance, so that she could have her own privacy but at the same time, she couldn’t help but have this feeling that he was observing her, although Sihtric kept his eyes on the ground

Something she was used to.

But Sihtric seemed attentive not to be caught.

“… I was on a job…” she didn’t know why she felt suddenly ashamed of admitting that she worked as an escort, although she wasn’t for sure embarrassed of it.

But she hadn’t said much, if not nothing, to anyone that wasn’t in her same business, so suddenly speaking about it made her nervous, although she didn’t have nothing to hide.

“… a client took a video without my permission of us…” was she seriously blushing about it?

“… do you know with what he might have taken it?”.

She was glad for Sihtric’s technical question and not focusing on her ‘job’, but she was extremely worried of answering negatively, thinking it might have been important, so she simply shoook her head, adding:

“I do think that he had a secret camera, since he pushed his phone on the bedside table to check the hour…” she explained trying to remember the previous afternoon, as she scanned the room in her memory “… but I didn’t notice anything”.

“Technology sadly has become more and more discreet…” explained Sihtric “… so sadly I don’t blame you for not noticing that something was wrong”.

And although she hadn’t realized it, what he said made her feel a bit less guilty for the thing that had happened, the previous afternoon.

“… can I see the video?” this certainly got her to blush “… just to see if I can detect the model of the camera”.

Easlwith nodded, although she couldn’t help but be a bit skeptic about it.

Was he doing it because he needed it, or he wanted to try to catch the glimpse of some free porn?

Still she showed it to him, without the audio, and again Sihtric surprised her with simply checking the first scene, involving a simple exchange of curtesy between her and a client, and then paused the video

“… it is a camera, but nothing professional, which will make it easy to track down” he explained softly, before he asked if he could take the phone in his hands getting out his own and for a moment Ealhswith was scared shitless that he would have forwarded it to his own phone, but Sihtric simply clicked an app on his own phone, where a list of technology materials appeared and he searched through them, finding one and then pushing a few more buttons.

And Ealhswith didn’t understand much, although she thought she was good with her own computer, but Sihtric seemed to do it like it was the most common thing.

As if it was something that he definitely did daily, quickly clicking a few more apps, eventually settling himself up in what looked like somebody’s else computer and then with a click the video disappeared from her phone.

And Sihtric closed all the apps he had opened, before muttering as he dragged lazily his thumb on the screen as if it calmed him:

“I should have finished with this” and only five minutes had passed “… I am not sure that he doesn’t have copies saved on external pieces, but I have installed a virus in case he try to download them in the computers that will immediately delete them and will threaten of denouncing him to the police”.

Ealhswith truly didn’t know what to say, unable to grasp the fact that that thing that had been truly bothering her from last night, making her panic completely and worry for the worst was now… solved and finished.

And she’d never have to hear about that asshole.

Sihtric nodded, scratching lightly the back of his head, almost as if he didn’t know what to say, eventually again settling on his phone, as a notification appeared, and he simply shook lightly his head, although a small smirk appeared on his face.

A small handsome smirk.

“… how much… how much do I have to pay you?” she asked already ready for whatever sum might come her way.

Although she got paid quite well, she knew that hackers undoubtedly risked so much that they got paid quite well for doing it, but as Sihtric finally raised his head to meet her eyes, he simply shook his head.

“… don’t worry about it”.

She had expected him to ask a big sum of money, maybe enough that she would have to maybe consider pawning a few of her family jewels.

She had expected him to ask of being paid in a natural way, asking for her body in exchange for having saved her ass.

But she certainly hadn’t expected him to simply dismiss it as if he hadn’t probably committed a few federal crimes to avoid a revenge porn vide of her getting out of some asshole’s phone.

“Se… serio… seriously?” she now felt like the quiet one, as Sihtric did nod his head, almost as if this was the usual thing, and he put again the phone in his pockets, giving her back her own one, meanwhile she wondered where the trick was.

Had he saved a copy of the video on his phone?

Did he expect her to fall in love with him, after saving her as some kind of modern Cinderella?

Men, no matter what, always wanted something from women.

They thought that simply because they paid for them of paid things for them, they owned them and they could do whatever they wanted with them, no matter that they were in 2019 and there was a Third Wave Intersectional Feminism that worked towards erasing that concept.

So, Sihtric couldn’t be different.

She knew it

“… actually…” here comes the advances and the requests “… there is an ice cream place nearby, you can offer me an ice cream there, if you feel like you owe me something”.

She was surprised and not solely because of the fact that he wanted eat ice cream in full winter, but she hadn’t ever been treated with such kindness in and outside of her line of work by a man.

And she couldn’t help but be somehow fascinated by it, almost as if she was walking on a tightrope and although it was dangerous, it fascinated her with the beautiful view that it offered, two mismatched eyes holding a shyness in them that locked in everything they might have said.

She hadn’t had a big crush on everybody since for ever, but she couldn’t deny that Sihtric certainly was an interesting type.

And yet she wouldn’t have fallen for the knight in shining armor.

She didn’t trust those in the slightest..

But she was undoubtedly curious about what made the man in front of her.

“… then show me the way to the ice cream shop”.

The ice cream shop was cutsie place where she hadn’t certainly thought of meeting the smart hacker, his black clothes completely mismatched with the colorful place which Ealhswith appreciated.

There she was finally able to breath as she realized she was free.

She wouldn’t have been blackmailed anymore for that video.

And she wouldn’t have risked her whole career disappearing just because some man decided that he wanted more than she allowed.

… and it was all thanks to the dork in front of her playing around with his spoon in the ice cream cup he had chosen.

His cheeks were a bit brightened by the presence of sugar now in his blood, although he had already talked a bit during their trip to the ice cream parlor, alongside her.

And strangely not about her line of work.

Ice cream had been the main topic and almost as if they hadn’t just met each other that morning, he had teased her for liking vanilla, meanwhile she defended her beloved flavor with all heart, insisting that although it might have been plain… it never disappointed.

‘… you almost convinced me’ he uttered lightly, with a bright smile and for a moment she had thought of having witnessed a miracle, something that had probably taken all the energy he had in his own body, because he had stopped talking there and then.

She had offered the ice cream, and he had welcomed gladly the gesture, already choosing the flavors with big eyes of a child that had been denied a treat for so long.

And that was when she understood that he had also known poverty.

If not something worse.

But she hadn’t asked anything about it.

They had sat down in a corner, as Sihtric moved like he could map out this entire place with his own eyes closed and she followed him calmly, settling herself up in front of him, as she herself started munching on the top of the straw in her milkshake.

Vanilla flavored, indeed.

Again Sihtric seemed to want to shrink in himself again, and some part of Ealhswith, a math major with a pedagogy course in her system, couldn’t help but think that it must have been some gesture that he had started doing in infancy and kept on doing as a coping mechanism.

A defense mechanism.

“… I don’t think I have said it” she commented as a few of the last clients move outside, giggling happily “… but thank you for doing what you did, I truly appreciate it”.

“… it was a pleasure” although she didn’t notice any change in his voice, but he seemed almost to perk up at the comment, almost as if he hadn’t expected it.

“… and thank you for not judging me… I know that what I do isn’t the best…” she didn’t know why she had to say that, but all her life she had felt like she was guilty of something, although she had never admitted it.

She was comfortable having sex with men, simply for money and she was comfortable with knowing that, but strangely she had always felt like this should have made her feel guilty of some obscure and horrible secret.

… and it had indeed horridly impacted her thoughts and mental health, although she refused to admit it.

“… listen I have a friend who is a sugar baby, so believe me, I don’t judge you, in the slightest” his tone was low key calm, but there was sprinkle of humor in his mouth, not against her but she couldn’t help but feel a bit calmer… and more at ease “… I am glad to have helped you”.

“Can I… can I ask you what programs you used? To delete the image… ” the question was both out of curiosity and both because you wanted to be sure that the photo hadn’t been simply hidden or such, although you were relieved by the fact that that asshole didn’t have it anymore on his phone, you didn’t want any traces to have been left on Sihtric’s phone “… I don’t know much about computers, although I did a course or two…”.

And she was low key impressed by Sihtric’s ability.

“… oh it’s mostly through remote control it’s a…” and he seemed truly surprised when she named a computer program for it, but it wasn’t the ‘my male ego was wounded by your comment my sweet maiden’ surprise.

It was honest surprised.

Almost as if he seemed a child happy of having someone who wanted to play with him.

“… you have certainly done more than one course to know that name” he mumbled “… didn’t you think about solving the problem on your own?”.

He seemed truly enthralled by Ealhswith’s knowledge and she blushed under that mismatched and intense stare, almost unwanted and uncontrolled, as if he hadn’t noticed he was staring at her that strongly.

“… I just… I know the basilar things, not the… you know…” and she lowered her voice with a conspiratorial tone “… hacker stuff”.

He giggled at that comment, a truly boisterous laugh that made her smirk a bit.

And he then proceeded to explain to her what he had done, the honesty in his tone confirming the truth behind his words, but also the way he explained it to her, was extremely proper and as if he knew all about those things.

Showing her that he truly knew his job.

‘… how do you know all this stuff?’ she had once asked him in the middle of his explanation, and he had seemed almost ashamed of it, lightly backing away as if he was scared to show himself, having taken an uncertain forward step.

‘… internet’ he simply stated, but Eahlswith sure it wasn’t the entire truth.

But didn’t push further.

‘… what about you?’ he tried to shift the attention away from himself “... interested in computer sciences?”.

“Kind off… although… I actually study math” she explained “… I want to become a teacher… I always… I always had this horrible… horrible math teacher. He always said that girls… girls weren’t logical enough to study math… and little eight-year-old me wanted desperately to prove him wrong”.

A soft smile appeared on Sihtric’s face at that, almost as if he had been told the same and could relate to that.

“… he seems like a very horrible teacher”.

“I don’t want any girl to feel like they don’t have a chance to learn math, simply because they aren’t logical enough” she muttered tightly “… I want them to believe in themselves”.

“That’s very very cool”.

Sihtric’s tone was honest and impressed.

She blushed a bit, realizing about how much she had blabbered about her life to a complete stranger, although he had been the first one to listen without adding anything or any judgement which made him easy to talk to.

But Ealhswith wasn’t truly convinced about his intentions.

But the atmosphere grew much more relaxed and calmer, and by the end she was finished with her milkshake, just as Sihtric had ordered one of his own.

She couldn’t help but almost dread the thought of leaving him behind, although she didn’t have any other reason to stay.

She wanted to honestly to try to make him stay longer, maybe invite him out.

But men weren’t much different among themselves and in the end when they discovered what she truly did, they’d try to make her to stop and then fetishize her situation till it got ‘too boring’, discarding them with the excuse of ‘not being pure enough’ for a true relationship.

Good enough.

She had gone through it multiple times when she was younger, and then she had stopped dating.

And she didn’t want to ruin the nice image of Sihtric she had in her mind.

“… I have to go…” she commented in the end, knowing that she had to send the part of her thesis to her relator before tonight.

But her body didn’t seem to cooperate instead pushing itself to remain seated in front of Sihtric, who raised his head surprised before again his gaze became focused on everything but her.

“… I do understand it” he replied, and then he seemed to have an almost conflict with himself, before he bit down roughly on his lip, taking a decision “… I… I teach at a small course… on computers… nothing truly illegal, but if you are interested in deepening this I… you have certainly the brain for it”.

She was full on blushing now and she didn’t know why she nodded, but she did.

And now strangely she had a reason to see that strange hacker again.

And her heart fluttered at that.

And she wasn’t sure it was a good thing.

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sidespromptblog · 5 years ago

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The Past: Part 2

One, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine

Summary: Logan doesn’t recall being Apathy, he can’t remember a single instance in his life where he was the dark side Apathy. As far as he’s aware he’s always just been… Logic, Thomas’ Logic to be more precise. He lives and he breathes as Logic and nothing more.

Except…He’s certain that he isn’t supposed to have emotions, that little things like being called stupid and having the word infinitesimal thrown at him aren’t supposed to hurt the way that they do. He’s certain that he was never supposed to feel, let alone everything that he does now. He just doesn’t understand these feelings, not to mention the dreams of a blank white tie that was folded to crisp perfection. He doesn’t understand the dreams in which he stands before Deceit and the others, with such a tiny smile, but a smile nonetheless.

He doesn’t understand, why when he looks at his friends… and he feels nothing but fear and anger.

Logan jolted awake from the dream that had seared the inside of his mind with a gasp that sounded all too similar to a strangled sob, his sweaty locks stuck to his forehead even as the chill raced down his spine like someone had dropped an ice cube down his shirt. Every breath was a struggle as he openly wheezed, curling up his legs up to his chest before resting his head against his knees. The attempt to stabilize his breathing was an arduous one as the seconds ticked by into minutes, his lungs felt like something.. or rather someone had an impossibly tight grip on them refusing to let up for even the smallest of a second.

What was that? Just what in the hell was that?!

He’d had dreams before, muddled and half-baked as they were, it was always impossible to make heads or tails from them no matter how they left him feeling in the morning. But this… he’d never had a dream that he had seen more clearly.. or felt for that matter. His heart still galloped in his chest, as the sight of Patton’s young face smiling so threateningly at him, as if.. as if he still had a reason to be afraid of Patton in the first place. As if.. as if he was still in danger.

“Preposterous,” He scolded himself, forcing his legs to lay back down on his bed, or as far as they could stretch given all the books and papers he had laying on his bed. “Patton would never harm me, dreams are just…” Statistically speaking, dreams were always refurbished memories, as old and distant as they were. So that meant…

No.

Logan roughly shook his head at the mere notion that flitted through his mind, Patton would never hurt him, they had been estranged friends ever since he had been formed by Thomas. The science of dreams was quite sketchy anyways, especially for a figment of Thomas himself. It was most likely that Thomas had merely revamped some memories from an old horror movie or game and added their faces to it, that was it. There was nothing wrong, he was fine and he would continue to be fine, dreams or not. He was safe and sound here, with his family, with the people that cared about h-

A boisterous knock dragged him from his own denial ridden reassuring thoughts, “Loooogan,” Patton’s voice unwarranted or not sent a jolt through the logical side’s stomach, like spaghetti being spun around on a fork. At least, that was until he forced himself to relax at the sound of Patton’s cheery voice. “Time to get up! Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes, I’m making cat-shaped pancakes!” And just like that, the sound of Patton’s feet scurried down the hallways in order to wake the others, and… undoubtedly the Deceit and Remus as well.

A knot of emotion swelled in his throat.

Remus…

A tearstreaked face that begged him to move faster, to try and move. A young voice that told him he’d carry him if he had to, that.. that he wouldn’t leave him to die. A voice that howled against a locked door, as the sounds of Apathy’s scr-

Logan fiercely shook his head as he slid his legs off of his bed, “No!” He scowled angrily, determined to shake the dream from him as he summoned his usual clothes, he was going to go down and eat, do his work for today, and put the contents of this foolish dream behind him. He and Remus weren’t friends, Remus had attempted to kill him several times so they couldn’t be further from friends. Unlike Deceit and the others, Remus was a being that thrived purely on chaos there was no way that even if he did consider it, that he’d be friends with the likes of him. He strived around likeminded people, like Virgil or.. or P-

Logan nearly gagged as he tightened his tie so tightly that it nearly cut off his airways for a solid second before he hastily loosened it.

Perhaps he should forget about work for today, maybe spending a day inside the imagination and giving himself a few hours of rest would clear his head. With the way that his head was situated and pondering right now… he wasn’t likely to get any work done at all if he was worrying so much over some stupid dream. Perhaps some relaxation really would be better for him today, he was ahead in his scheduling after all, and he had earned it after the whole Remus debacle. Maybe a trip to the pond, or even mirror lakes would do him some good.

“Looogan!” Snapping his head up at the sound of his own name, Logan heaved a sigh as he slipped his shoes on before finally leaving the safety of his room.

Patton cheery grin sent a spiral of sickness deep into Logan’s core as he stood before the entrance of the kitchen, “Good morning Patton,” He politely greeted the other, even as he felt like choking on his own tongue. How on earth was he supposed to eat when he could barely get a few words out to the moral side? The smile that greeted him, would have at one time made him feel giddy on the inside, or in the very least the slightest bit warm all the way from his stomach to his heart. Now though… with the image of Patton reaching for him, his burning fingertips razing his mind, he felt nothing but feverish and cold all at the same time as he stood before the moral side praying that he couldn’t read the conflicting emotions in his eyes.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Ordinarily, he would have helped Patton pass out the plates, staking the funny shaped pancakes just how each of them liked it, he would have stood next to Patton their elbows brushing. But instead… he felt rooted to the spot, feeling that if he moved… he’d either throw up or faint.

Patton stopped though, his brow worriedly crinkling as his eyes gleamed back at the sight of him just.. standing there and doing nothing. “You okay Logie bear?” The moral side stepped even closer standing so that the tips of his fuzzy bunny slippers were touching Logan’s shoes. It was too close. “You look awful pale today, you didn’t stay up too late last night, did you? Are you getting sick?” And just like that Patton reached forward, his fingers, burning hot with the heat of the sun creeping closer and closer with each second. They were reaching for his head, and.. And…

Run. Whispered the voice in his head. Run before he can catch you, run!

A rough shoulder collided with both him and Patton before the moral side’s hand could make contact with his face, as Remus’ sarcastically sneering face mockingly smiled back at him. “Whoops!” He cackled, his hand waving at the two of them disrupting the moment between him and Patton with an almost practiced ease that must have been just a little bit rehearsed, it was so on script with something that Deceit would say as well. “Was I interrupting something?” He giggled, as if it was the climax of some romantic movie, and he was the comic relief constantly stopping the two love interests from confessing shit to each other.

Even so, relief swept through Logan like a tidal wave slamming and destroying tons and tons of built up garbage. It must have shown on his face, or in the very least his eyes as Remus’ giggling stopped dead and his gaze turned almost serious before his eyes darted away from him and Patton. The duke’s lips pressed into a thin line before he pushed past Patton once again, this time seizing plate that only held one pancake and a truly pathetic amount of bacon and syrup on it. Grabbing a plastic fork, as Patton had forbidden him to even think about touching the metal cutlery, Remus paused once again his shoulder firmly but not harshly thumping against Logan’s, further detaching the logical side from Patton’s searching and blistering gaze.

“Watch it love birds,” He hissed, an unknown emotion coating his voice as he stomped over to the dining table, sitting in the exact spot that he always sat in next to Deceit and Roman. “Don’t you know royalty when you see it?”

Ah, but of course, obviously he needed to line the floors with his blood for Remus to stroll upon. Like true royalty.

Logan shook his head at the bizarre thought, truly unaware as to where it had even come from as he gathered his own plate before making his way to the table. Except, instead of sitting by Patton as he normally did. Logan firmly situated himself between Roman and Remus, he ignored the utterly thankful look that Roman shot him as they all ate together… or at least attempted to, with Remus’ loud smacking mouth and syrup getting all over the table despite just how little Patton have given him. Remus must have known about the disgusted looks and feeling from the others, because with little to no hesitation his actions only grew more exaggerated and his annoying grating smacking all the louder second by second until it became practically unbearable to listen to.

And then Remus accidentally elbowed Logan in the chest with a single movement.

He could tell that it was an accident by the way that Remus’ eyebrows for a brief second sloped downward into worry, and the frown that tugged at his lips. Within seconds, the tense atmosphere at the table shattered, as Roman reached for his sword, a darkened scowl on his lips as if Remus had just horrifically wounded Logan, and the logical side was bleeding out before him.

A chuckle passed Logan’s lips, and in a single instant, everything and everyone froze. “Careful Ram, next thing I know you’ll be aiming to knock off my head guillotine style. I won’t quite forgive you for that one.” He wasn’t entirely sure just where that one had come from, both the nickname that passed his lips as well as the horrific imagery that his words managed to conjure up. And looking at Remus’ face, his open slackjawed mouth that still held his food and the minuscule widening of his equally horrified and shock ridden stormy grey eyes, it was just that alone that told him that he had just said something that left the darker creative side completely and utterly spiraling. He didn't understand the look, or the silent shock written all over Deceit's half normal half-snake face either, as the dishonest side gripped Remus' shoulder so tightly that there wasn't a single chance for him to go and grab his morning star weapon. The both of them wore a look of equal shock, and Logan for the life of him couldn't understand just why that was.

It was a look that didn’t last long.

“What… did you call me?”

#logan sanders #logic sanders #remus sanders #ts remus #deceit sanders #ts deceit #patton sanders #questionable patton #roman sanders #logan is apathy #apathy au #memory alteration

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veridium · 5 years ago

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fall to pieces

happy Sunday! What better way to end the weekend than with some fresh college au? because I am a merciful mistrxss, I haven’t made this serving entirely with salt (I know, I know, promises, promises). but hey I entitled it after an avril lavigne song, so it can’t be that bad, right?

enjoy!

fic masterpost // previous episode

Sending Ellinor off to catch prince charming does wonders, momentarily, for olivia’s mood. It makes her lose sight of her own dysfunctional state of affairs. While her comrade showers she takes stock of all her surroundings, and the distraction soon fades. Her outfit cast aside on her desk chair, heels half-assed tossed to the floor by the shoe rack. At least she managed to wash her face and take out all the bobby pins, or so she thinks. Running her fingers through her hair, she finds two hanging on by a thread.

A few minutes later and she’s out of her pajamas and into a towel of her own, shower-bound. Her phone’s charged up but still plugged in; she’s checked it every time she wakes up from her poor sleep and then some, but still no messages from Cassandra and the afternoon is ticking away. Ellinor comes around the corner as she is leaving her doorway, looking all fresh and clean but face full of dread.

They face each other one last time before parting ways to clean up their messes. For some reason, they’ve been having to do that a lot lately. Head-to-head, the frown with dread and solidarity in the air, Ellinor dripping and smelling of old spice and some flowery stuff she definitely stole from Olivia after saying she thought it stunk, but lied. And likely will still lie about having “borrowed” it.

“Ready?” Ellinor asks, point blank.

Olivia nods, but then a whimper escapes her throat. “Y-yeah.”

“Not good enough, soldier. I said are we ready?”

“...Yeah!”

They stare again. Ellinor’s own whimpiness comes through in the souring of her frown and roll of her eyes. They both groan, Olivia knocking her head back as they pass each other at last.

“I’m so--”

“--Fucking tired, shit.”

“Good luck, don’t scare him!”

“Don’t worry, he already is.”

A door shuts, and Olivia slinks into the showers. The answer wasn’t the most hopeful, but she prays that Ellinor will keep up her record of fixing things that go astray. So far she’s done good, and Cullen seems like -- oh who is she kidding, he is the type to forgive if the intentions were harmless. While she hangs her towel it occurs to her she’s having one more of those sympathetic thoughts of him, and she rubs her face almost raw and lets the hot water consume her.

At least Ellinor has a plan of action, and some control over how to proceed. The shit ball is in her shit court. Olivia can’t say the same, and though she isn’t mad, it certainly leaves little for her to do but wait and worry. Cassandra isn’t a faker -- if she was angry or displeased with the way she was treated, Olivia would know. The way she looked when she shut the car door said anything but outraged. Sad, though...it did say sad. Running her hands through her hair as it rinses, Olivia can’t help but close her eyes as if it’ll help her not see the image in her mind.

By the time she emerges and returns to her dorm room Ellinor is gone, though there is a half-bent sticky note left on her door above the handle. It has a hastily-written heart on it, and a U underneath. Brief but much needed, it finds a home on her desk beside all the other ones she’s kept over the course of their friendship. Out of the corner of her eye she notices the note she pinned from Cassandra, who’s penmanship puts all others to shame, even her own.

Standing there, dripping and looking at a piece of paper as if it’s the fucking Grand Canyon or something. She always daydreamed about having some romantic youth. Dumbass, she calls herself as she shoves the closet door open and begins sifting through. What to wear? A brown paper bag and some sandals, maybe? It’s not like she’ll have anyone to impress, and if she did, the time to do it was last night. All her impress-juice had been dumped onto that party, and for what: so she could be a primadonna dick.

Eventually she pulls on some black denim skinny jeans and a grey, v-neck long-sleeve. She still has homework to do, and if she can drag her ass to the library or some other studious place, she can salvage her day and distract herself at the same time. Perfect. Fifteen minutes later she has packed her backpack, books, phone charger and all, and heads out, not looking back. She’s out on the lawn out front by the dorms, walking in her black sneakers with full commitment, when she notices a familiar purple-trimmed bike in the parking lot across the way. One that definitely has leftover residue of where a student’s parking sticker used to be.

“Fuck, shit,” she mutters. Theia.

Instantly she dives into one of the less-direct pavement paths. So much for cutting through quad and the Union building. Josie lives on-campus, but not close. Maybe if she’s there to stop by and make sure she got back safe, or something, she won’t have to worry about running into her. The last thing she needs is to deal with her before she even has a chance at seeing Cassandra. Arms folded to her chest, she hunches as she walks. It’s too late and cloudy to put sunglasses on without looking sketchy or hungover. Fuck, I wish I was hungover.

Suddenly, her phone goes off with the call ring. How it got switched off from silent mode is anyone’s guess. Olivia nearly drops dead to the ground like she’s avoiding enemy fire, and dashes for the nearest tree thick enough to hide behind. She digs through the first two pockets of her back where she usually tosses the damned thing, but it’s not until the last pocket of course that she finds it. Just as she’s about to press ignore, she sees Cassandra’s name on the caller ID.

OF FUCKING COURSE SHE HAS TO CALL WHEN I AM TRY--

“H-hello?” she whispers and squeaks at the same time, somehow, sliding the phone to her ear.

Without background noise, Cassandra’s tone comes in clear. “Hey, you okay?”

She slides down against the tree until she’s doing a half-assed version of one of those wall-sits she does at the gym when she hates herself and her glutes. Her bag goes to the grass. As wood chips off the bark and all the other sounds she’s certainly making come out loud and unmistakably concerning, she lies:

“Oh yeah! I’m fine, just--” she brushes her hair that’s collected in her face sans ponytail. “Just got out the door.”

“Oh. Gotcha. So are you in the middle of something, then?”

“Uh, um, yeah and no?”

“...”

“I was just...ow, fuck!” a shard of wood sticks her right in the ass cheek and she bounces off the tree, spinning around to face it like a foe.

“Olivia? You sure you’re okay?”

“Argh--yeah! I just...my calculator in my...pocket, it, er, stuck me in the ribs--”

“...you own a calculator?”

Why the hell did I say calculator? Why couldn’t I -- agh, fuck. “Yes, for just in case I...you know, um, I’m a little tired, so bare with me. I’m not good with words. You okay? D-did you go to…”

“--Church? Yes, I did.” There’s sounds of zippers and voices. “We just got done with practice, I’m at the fields still. I was wondering if you wanted…”

“Yes!”

“...to…”

“Ye--I mean, um, ahem,” she clears her throat, looking around for anyone who could be playing witness to her heinously embarrassing attempt to fit into the scenery. Sunday afternoons are quiet on campus, thank goodness. “I mean, you were saying?”

“Ahah, I meant...um, hold on a sec,” she mutters something away from the phone mic, vaguely authoritative. Then, a “no,” which is the only thing Olivia can tell for sure. “Uh, sorry, you still there?”

She’s started pacing. So much for not being seen. “Yeah!”

“Cool. I was...I mean...oh, hey, Ellinor is here?”

Get to the point Cassandra, please, please, please say you wanna -- “Oh! Yeah! Uh,” she takes a breath that’s about as useful for her nerves as a straight chug of mountain dew, “she said something about meeting Cullen after practice.”

“I...see.” She sounds concerned and slightly distracted. “I hope everything’s okay. This morning I ate a breakfast that I don’t think was...well, intended for me.”

Yikes. Time to pretend she had no idea, like she didn’t read the texts or get on Ellinor’s case about being a brunch-buster. “Oh, shit…” she lingers a few syllables on the cuss word, for added authenticity. “That sounds...um, rough.”

“Uh huh…” Cassandra’s talking like she’s walking, her breath pace changing. If she’s skeptical, Olivia can’t fully tell. “Well, anyways, has your day gone okay?”

God dammit, no, ask what you wanted to ask! “It’s gone good. Slow and steady, ya know. I’m just...swimmin,’ ahah.”

“You keep forgetting you’re bad liar, you know.”

Butterflies. Butterflies and regret and bubbles and all the weird feelings that can happen in someone’s gut without them feeling like they need hospitalization. “Uh…” She stops when she hears the sound of a car trunk opening through the phone.

“I’m just tired, I’ve been reading a lot, Cass,” she lets the frustration seep through even in her lying, and immediately regrets it. Rubbing the back of her neck, she looks off into the greenery and picturesque layout of buildings and their unlit windows and could already think of a billion other ways she could have answered. “I’m...I mean--”

“Oh, hey, no, I didn’t mean it like that. Um, hold on again, sorry.” Cassandra lets out a breath, then the sound of a car door, and then jingling. “Cullen and I drove to practice thinking we’d go get some ice cream or something afterwards, but it appears plans have changed.”

“So you have to drive his car again?”

“Well, I don’t have to, I just saw him and Ellinor walking off the field and assumed that’s how he’s gonna get back, and this lot isn’t for overnight parking.”

This conversation is going nowhere. Maybe it shouldn’t go anywhere. She isn’t exactly in the shape or mind to be perfectly sympathetic and patient, as evidenced by the way she’s damn-near vibrating with anxiety. Maybe what she wanted from the day wasn’t fair to ask, and seeing her would only do more harm than good.

“So,” Cassandra continues, and the ignition goes off. “I know you’ve been studying, but would you be willing to be my plan B companion for ice cream?”

“Sure! Yeah! No, I’ll meet you at the Blue lot by the gym?” Fuck, well, there went that constructive thought.

“Cool, I’ll be there in a couple minutes max.”

“Cool!”

They hang up, and as soon as she hits the red button Olivia groans and tossed her head back, hands on her eyes to block out the hopeful sight of the day and the birds chirping and all that nonsense. Surely at this point someone is filming her from a window to post it on one of those college humor facebook pages, captioning it “tfw your mom and dad call saying they got your mastercard bank statement.” In all actuality the caption should be “tfw you dare to be bisexual and in public at the same time.”

She does as she promises, though, and picks up her God forsaken backpack and marches her way through the shortcut path to the lot. With each step she tries to forget the guilt and nerves she has, the social anxiety she has in response to Cassandra acting like everything is fine. Is everything fine? Is this her way of broaching the talk they planned to have? Or is this some way to get Olivia to forget it and go back to being blissfully drowning in the honeymoon phase? Fuck, if their honeymoon phase in danger of a premature death? Are they in danger of premature death? How--

Before she knows it and can center herself, she’s on the curb and Cassandra is pulling up in that same black care she dropped her off in. The Ruther...Rutherf--...

She gets in, puzzled and stairing straight ahead. Without a word.

Cassandra stares, both hands at the wheel. “...Hey?”

“Rutherf...dammit, I’ve already said that one…”

“What?”

“Ruther...Rutherferrari? That’s dumb. No…” she folds her arms once she has her seatbelt on. “Fucking...dammit.”

“Are you...are you trying to come up with a name for the car?”

Olivia looks over at long last, and if she was already at a loss for thought, the look of Cassandra still sweaty and in her soccer jersey and shorts makes her a lost cause. Her mouth goes agape, though she’s still pouting. “Uhm, no!”

“You so are.” Cassandra grins, before looking up in the mirror. Someone’s pulling up behind them, so she puts it in gear and goes forward. Her eyes flash back onto her, checking that she did in fact put on her seatbelt. She’s so careful.

“I just can’t believe there’s only one car-related word that starts with an F! It can’t just be Ford!”

“You said it yourself, Ruther…” she stops and bites back a chuckle. “Rutherferrari.”

“See! It’s stupid! Even you think so. There has to be a better one…” She continues her stubborn search and looks out the passenger window as campus passes by at the very legal 15 mph pace. Just beyond a row of hills, the soccer fields come into view, empty. No sign of Ellinor or Cullen. Checking her phone, there are no messages or missed calls. Whatever is happening between them, it’s going somewhat well?

“Rutherfour-wheel-drive.”

Olivia blinks, her head jerking forward. “W-what?” She looks over and sees Cassandra smiling.

“Ruther-four-wheel-drive,” she repeats, and they pull out of the campus entrance.

Olivia rolls her lips shut and raises a brow. She’s quiet so long Cassandra has to look over, concerned. “What?” she asks as they stop at a red light.

“I...I just…”

“Is that a bad one?”

“No, I just...I never thought I could be so proud of someone in my entire life,” she says with a fake weepy voice, her hand laying flat on her chest like she’s accepting a Miss America award. “My God, no, I can’t cry, my lashes!”

“Ugh, smartass!” Cassandra fake-sneers, and presses the gas pedal. They’re on the move again, and while Olivia’s laughing, she turns up the radio a little bit. It’s hooked up to her phone via aux, playing some acoustic cover. Finally Olivia settles down and lays her head back against the headrest, a satisfied grin on her face.

“I’m sorry, it was really good, babe.”

Cassandra doesn’t respond sharply like she does. It gives Olivia time to realize, fuck, she’s called her babe. It rolls off her tongue like honey she’s been parched of all day, all week, all along. Still it’s clumsy as hell. How can something be both those things? If she plays cool, though, maybe it’ll be cool. Maybe it’ll be fine. Maybe --

“Uh, I mean...um…” well, so much for playing cool.

Cassandra smirks as they pull into a parking lot behind the ice cream shop. She’s chosen the one downtown, a small little place, but good stuff. She doesn’t make any comment, or refusal. Just smirks. It’s almost worse than if she started cleverly chiding her for it, or egging her on. Worse in that it’s...it’s welcoming. Welcoming and right. Olivia doesn’t have the guts to try more of her shitty luck at self-expression, so she’s quiet but polite as they get out of the car and walk into the place. It’s all white and bright, like a quintessential ice creamery, with colorfully decorated chalkboards lining the walls. They order, but not before Olivia samples three different flavors, no less than that -- she has to be thorough, after all. Cassandra never frowns or shows distaste for it, though, and soon they’re walking out with two waffle cones, Cassandra’s of rocky road, and Olivia’s caramel fudge ripple.

“Come on, let’s go for a walk,” Cassandra recommends as they exit, Olivia already taking the right towards the parking lot. She stops and hesitates, looking down the straight, idyllic downtown street she’s gesturing towards.

“Oh...uh, you sure?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s not like I can drive with this,” Cassandra shrugs, holding her ice cream. It’s all neat, while Olivia is already fending off dripping around the sides. Classic.

“Oh. Okay. Um, sure! I mean,” Olivia starts walking with her, slow and playful in her swinging step, “it’s your reputation on the line, you being in public all gross and sweaty.”

“Is it?” Cassandra joins her, and without warning leans up against her, rubbing her shoulder and arm against Olivia and her freshly showered and clean self.

“Cassandra Penta...agh!” She shrieks and lurches away, but can’t help but laugh. Her ice cream skews, but she manages to keep it level with the ground. Precious, precious ice cream.

Cassandra laughs, and goes back to licking her own scoops. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Uh huh,” Olivia huffs, switching hands. “Don’t try to assassinate my cone. I will make you reimburse me.”

They round the corner, where a public courtyard with several tables and sets of chairs are strewn about, bordered by stone plots of greenery and fern bushes, withering and skinny in the fall weather. There’s only one other middle-aged couple on the other side with a small dog. Above them, the sky is turning dark, but not quite enough for the street lamps to turn on.

“Wanna sit?” Olivia asks, pointing to one of the tables. “I need to work on this cone, it’s falling apart.”

“Sure,” Cassandra says simply, and they make their way over. Sitting across from each other, Olivia can look at her more discreetly while she salvages what she can of her pitiful cone. Taking her first bit into it, she notices Cassandra lean back comfortably, knees spread and free arm tucked under her chest and elbow. She looks like nothing ever happened. What could she have done to bounce back so quickly?

“So…” Olivia’s curiosity slips onto her mouth. “You...have a good day?”

“Me? Yes, I did.” Cassandra wipes the corner of her mouth with her thumb. I love it when she does that. “Most of it has been spent with Cullen, since we went from Church to home and then to practice. I barely had time to do any homework.”

“I bet.” She takes another crunchy bite of her cone as it is vanishing. “And...and the rest of your night last night?”

Cassandra takes a break from eating, but doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh. I just went home and relaxed, went to bed.”

“Cool. Same.” After I spent a half hour debating whether or not to drive to the Taco Bell down the road and cry into a crunch wrap, or find Ellinor wherever she was and steal her back from Cullen, or grab my eyebrow tweezers and go challenge Theia to a gay duel for honor, or --

“I can see that look.”

Olivia blinks, shakes her head, and her cone slightly cracks beneath her grip. Its audible cringe only worsens the odds for her denial. “W-what look?”

Cassandra takes a bite of her ice cream and licks her lips, her eyes intently on Olivia in a way that makes her want to melt faster than caramel fudge ripple in the mojave desert under a magnifying glass. She gulps, and her gaze locks on what remains of her cone as she rotates it around.

“Olivia.”

“I...fuck, this thing sucks at staying together, my cone is…”

“Olivia.” That time, Cassandra moves her hand from her lap to Olivia’s. She places it just above her knee. She’s down for the count when she does that. She lowers her cone grip and looks at her, really looks at her, and the failed facade dissolves.

“Cass...I…”

“I know, I--”

“No, you don’t. Just let me say this, okay?”

She doesn’t say it angrily, but with just enough assertiveness to where Cassandra removes her hand and straightens up. Her cone is gone, somehow; Olivia must have lost track of her eating it in her spinning thoughts. She rolls the napkin and puts it on the round table in front of them. Meanwhile, Olivia takes a deep breath, and looks away towards the garden growth.

“I meant what I said last night. I am sorry I handled everything the way I did. I should have been more transparent with what I was getting you into; Ellinor and I have spent so much time partying and...and doing things just us, so it’s not always clear to me that what we do can be overwhelming to someone else.” She pauses to look at her, and Cassandra’s eyes are lowered while she listens. It helps to not have her staring at her. “I just...I wish you would have told me, but I understand why you didn’t.”

“That is my fault. Liv, I…” she runs her hand through her hair, and it glistens and sticks down to her head. “I can’t talk about all of it tonight, and I’m sorry. I might have been a bit selfish in asking you to come with me. I just wanted to see you, to know for sure that everything was okay. I know that’s perhaps...not helping.”

No, probably not. On the other hand, Cassandra admitting to doing things selfishly and without logic is endearing. To know Olivia has that much sway, now, to where she would seek out her company even though the order of things would advise otherwise...that’s not lost on her. For that, Olivia’s posture softens, and she tosses her napkin on the table where it lands next to hers.

“I think we both need a breath. Just for a bit.”

Cassandra’s soft grin fades, but she nods. “I know.”

“I know you play strong, Cass, but I don’t want you to do it moreso for me. If you’re stressed, or...or triggered, then…”

“I have my strategies, I don’t just bluff. When I’ve had some more time I will explain everything. But if you are really worried, then…”

They are both treading carefully, and somewhat cluelessly. Even so, there’s something to be appreciated about it. Olivia’s phone buzzing breaks the ongoing pressure, but she doesn’t check to see what the notification is. No, nothing’s going to divert her from this, as tired as she may be.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make you be my arm candy to any parties in the near future,” Olivia grins as a piecemeal offering, one which Cassandra matches.

“Oh? Was I not the life of the party?”

Olivia snorts. “You were of mine. Jesus Ch--” a look, and she winces and looks away. “I mean, what the HELL-icopter...gosh, heck, gee--”

“Oh enough,” Cassandra chuckles softly, and rises to her feet. When she does she holds out her hand, and leans toward her like a polite escort. “We have some more walking to do.”

“Er, but you’ve finished your ice cream?” she grips her chair readily, though she eyes her.

Cassandra shakes her head, smile broadening. “Just a couple blocks more, if you’ll indulge me just this once.”

When you talk like that I can never refuse. Olivia rolls her eyes, kidding, of course, but she stands up. Grabbing their napkins and tossing them in the trash can nearest, they resume their walking down the street. The sky has only gotten paler, and winds chilled.

“You sure you don’t want to get a coat from the car, or something?” Olivia asks, hands in her jean pockets.

Cassandra shakes her head a second time, folding her arms apparently for her own comfort rather than to preserve warmth. “No, trust me, I’m enjoying the temperature. Among other things.”

Olivia looks up and finds her eyes looking right back. It makes her world slow. She almost hates it, or so she thinks. Sooner or later she’ll run out of energy for the false translation of how it makes her feel, and she’ll have to be honest with herself, and she knows it. It makes her heart sink, for better or worse, and she looks away toward the street.

“I am, too, I guess,” she says to mock, but her voice has warmed.

“You guess?”

Olivia smirks, sucking on her teeth. She really won’t let her get away with anything, anymore. That’s how much she knows. And so she lets her hands fall from her pockets, reaching and hooking around Cassandra’s bicep. She laces her fingers together over it, in a deviation from their understood rule of limited public contact. Complicit in her rule-breaking, Cassandra steps closer to her rather than breakaway. Out her peripheral vision, Olivia can see a grin grow generously on her face. And so she sighs silently, and finally allows herself to enjoy where she is.

“By the way,” Cassandra says hushed, “you have ice cream on your nose.”

To that, Olivia grins and proceeds to wipe her nose on the shoulder of Cassandra’s jersey. “Cool. Now we’re even.”

#college au #day & age #friendship fic #fic update #ellinor trevelyan #olivia sinclair #college!olivia #modern thedas au

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iseultdeservedbetter · 4 years ago

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The Princess & The Hacker

Hacker! Sihtric x Sex Worker! Ealhswith (Modern AU)

Chapter (1): The Ice Cream Shop

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

Excuse the very idiotic title, and I also want to put a disclaimer that this is one of of my first time writing a character x character fic, and I hope you won’t hate it!

I do think that there’ll be more chapters, if you like it, so please make sure to let me know so that I can see if people are interested about sequel!

Feedback is always welcome, in any way shape and form: it makes my heart beat stronger and my fingers write faster

SUMMARY: When Eahlswith is a victim of a revenge porn scheme, she is given a rather interesting contact, an hacker, that might solve all her problems, and do much more.

WORDS: 4,3 K

WARNINGS: Mention of Sex Work, Revenge Porn, Sex, Mention of Past Child Abuse, Hacker, Incorrect Techonology Knowledge.