Vikings, imagine you and ...

Imagine encountering Dark Hvitserk

ONESHOT // Modern AU
Words: 1447

You sat crouched down, looking over the evidence smearing over the streets. Murder never was pretty but you got used to it, just as somebody got used to cleaning toilets or changing diapers. You were used to this, the eyes of people looking shocked over the scene, the blood, the bullet wounds. While all day saw was blood and terror you saw five different scenario's to this. You looked up, gazing to the people behind the tape. Solving crimes wasn't you first year, you were an excellent profiler, you knew people, you knew danger when you saw it and you kept it strict for work. It was getting dark, the streetlight flickered over the scene while agents walked around. But you weren't looking at them, your eyes rested on two young men. One of them, the tallest was looking at you before he whispered and the second looked your way to. They were both different, the one seemed younger had a man bun, holding up his dark hair while the other had lighter brown hair, all laying back on his head. They were ... attractive. The one with the man bun looked aside to the other, a slow smile spreading on his handsome face before he walked away. When you looked back to the other he wasn't standing there anymore.
'What do you think?' Somebody pulled you out of thoughts and you looked back down. 'This is the fourth victim.'
'This is a hit, somebody is trying to get something out of the way.' You nodded, not being completely with your mind in the work. You stood up, curling your fingers in your hair while looking around, you needed that drink.

You were an animal of habit, always going to the same bar, taking the same route to work, working the same routine in the morning. You divorced a year ago and didn't saw a single men since then. The man behind the bar nodded to you, serving you your favorite drink without asking. You pulled your jacket of and sat down on the barstool. You grabbed the glass and took a good swallow of the drink.
'Touch case?' The barman asked. You nodded, resting your head on your arm, shifting your gaze only to notice him again. He was sitting in the corner, a little in the dark, his finger trailing over his glass, his feet resting against the barstool beside him. He looked at you and something about the smile he threw made you squeeze a little together on the inside. You looked back to your glass, deciding how stupid you would be before doing the stupid thing and grabbing your jacket and glass to walk over to him.
'You were on the crime scene.' You said without an introducing. He pushed his feet against the barstool, almost presenting it to you.
'Well, good evening to you to detective.'
'What were you doing there?' You asked while you sat down on the barstool. He leaned a little forward, embracing his own glass with two hands before looking aside to you, green eyes gazing into yours.
'Is this you asking as a detective or a friendly citizen?' He asked you right back. You looked back to your glass, deciding for yourself if it was worth to go hunting on somebody because he was that type ... dangerously attractive.
'None of both.' You decided. He titled his head and softly smiled.
'In that case, Hvitserk.' He introduced himself, stretching his hand out.
'Y/n.'
'I know.' He said with slightly squeezed together eyes. You took his hand and shook it, glaring into each other's eyes. You shook your head, a little confused by the impact of that gaze.
'Who was with you, on the scene?' You asked, bringing your glass to your lips to drink. Hvitserk nodded to the barman to order two more drinks.
'My brother, Ivar.'
'Do you do that often, visiting crime scenes?' You asked. He chuckled, leaning back in the dark. He was like the kind of predator that made you swoon before attacking.
'As an detective, do you believe in the perfect murder?' He asked out of the blew. You immediately shook your head. After years of solving cases there wasn't such a thing as the perfect murder.
'Planning on committing one?' You asked, somewhere a little playful. He bowed forward, bringing his face closer to yours.
'If I was planning one I wouldn't tell you.' He whispered with that crooked up grin of him. You looked down over his face, nodding and believing. 'By the way, I'm not that kind of a hunter.'
'What kind of a hunter you are then?' You asked right away. He leaned back again, bringing his glass to his lips and drank. He didn't answer and yet, by the way he looked at you, you already knew. He drank his glass empty and placed in on the bar, tapping his fingers on the wood.
'The kind of hunter that knows everything.' He answered you and in some way you believed him. The profiler in you believed every word of what he said and you didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing.

You drank one glass to much and you felt it in your head, loosening up more than you used to. 'Let me gave you a lift home.' He suggested, fingers grabbing around your elbow as you jumped from your barstool. You looked to it before your eyes trailed over his chest up into those eyes. He wasn't good, that profiler in your head pulled the alarm bells more than once. He was to open, to open meant he didn't had something to fear. He couldn't be an innocent guy, he didn't look like one ... he had something dangerous, masking behind the easy charm. It seemed all so easy, giving that and the other indicators you couldn't trust him. He was good company, easy and catching on the eye, gentle in using words. And here you were, nodding on his suggestion on bringing you home. 'I didn't knew detectives were this outgoing.' He chuckled while leading you out.
'Well, I have a serious job that doesn't mean I can have some fun after hours.'
'No man waiting at home?' He asked, opening his door. You looked to his car, an nice sportive car.
'I thought you knew everything.' You stated, letting your body slip into the leather seats. He stepped in and started the car, driving it on the road.
'I know everything. I'm not really gonna scare you away, you are the one having the gun.' He looked for a moment aside to you and you turned your head to look out of the window, directing him towards your house. When he stopped he was so kind on opening the door for you, walking you the whole way to the front door.
'You are not just bumping in to me on a crime scene and waiting me up at a bar just for this.' You spilled it out, looking for your keys. He leaned against the door, looking down to you. He was way to close and you thinking wasn't optimal.
'No.' He answered you honestly. You felt a finger against the skin of your neck, following your white shirt until the first bottom. 'I saw you the first time working on a case you still haven't solved. I want you,' those three words just made you numb as he unbuttoned the first button. 'I need you to solve that case.' He whispered, fingers sliding further over your skin to the second button. 'You are way to beautiful you know.'
'And you are way to dark.' You whispered back.
'A little darkness doesn't hurt.' He lowered his face, crashing his lips onto yours. You had already opened your door from behind and you both stepped in without releasing each other. 'The things I imagined to do with you.' He unbuttoned the last one and his fingers scoured your body while you landed against the wall. You were out of breath, looking up into his dark lustful eyes. Damn, what were you doing.
'Which case?' You asked as his eyes drifted off over your body. His lips cased your neck, fingers clawing in the soft fabrics of your covered breast, you couldn't resist to throw your head back, moan softly.
'I wanted to hear that, for months now.' He said, hungry, he felt needy, hands pushing his way over your body. He had trapped you, just like the profiler in you said, he wasn't right. He trapped you with only a few charming words and a smile and now you couldn't escape.