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sugar-petals · 3 years

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♡ physical affection; levi

↳ NOTE. characterizing boyfriend levi, my passion project lmao! with some sexy moments included 👀

WORDS. ⇢ 7k

tags / warnings. ⚠️ smut, fluff, soft sub!levi x female reader, hurt/comfort hc, angst, shower sex, blowjobs + handjobs + boobjobs (yep. spoiling the captain), face-sitting, protected sex, soap kink, season 3-4 setting, no manga spoilers

Ready for a surprise? It’s not really about what kind of skinship he’s extremely selective about and what not. This is only something people would perceive about him at first glance. Instead, it comes down to how emotionally sheltered he feels. Because of his experiences, that predicates everything else. Which is why Levi’s sexuality is as complex as it is.

But also, in its sudden perfect expression once a person gives him a different perspective: That’s the time when he is touchier. The more in private, the better. The lights down low, with only a candle or two shining from another room. Broad daylight brings the harsh truths and the shaking ground. Nighttime is when Levi feels more intimate and open to caress, down his back and arms, the shoulders, the side of his neck. Done with extreme gentleness, and all of your deep respect.

If you offer him an environment of trust, Levi is open to almost anything and would even magically doze off in your arms for a little while. Breathing softly, resting for the first time in weeks, the brows becoming less tense the deeper he sleeps. You asking if you can stroke his hair (carefully, not messing it up or anything) is something he can’t say no to. The closet romantic in him will fulfill you any reasonable wish as soon as you’d ask anyway.

We know how receptive the captain is to a request, and how much there can be a soft spot for somebody in his heart. If you’re forward enough to just ask, Levi sets himself that goal and opens up. He is diligent with it just as you’d expect. That especially includes the things he says are „absolute horseshit nonsense“ and „disgusting, useless activities“ when reacting to newly formed couples kissing in the survey corps at the other end of the room. Is he a hypocrite and a hater? Actually— not at all.

Levi is a raised rather than born skeptic. Between courage and care, he is always gonna be torn. Both didn’t work in his favor at some point. But at the end of the day, he fears recklessness more than being cautious. Looking at these couples, he knows that they could lose each other the very next day. Or hell, the next hour. Not everybody has 200 titan kills.

Not everybody is a physically indestructible Ackerman destined and designed to escape death and outlive others whether they want it or not. And showing themselves this vulnerable out in the open is even more dangerous considering all the political intrigues, chaos, attacks, and espionage going on.

When he’s scoffing at skinship in the survey corps, it’s not his intent to ruin the couples and their little happiness in the present moment (nothing he sees as more tragically precious), or say only he can have a relationship because he’s strong enough to make it survive. If anything, Levi is the prime example of how all his connections were doomed exactly because of his status pulling in all the danger. He very well and painfully knows.

What I mean is: He sees the brutality of consequences that can create more misery than if two people would just go about their business. Levi already dreads that the same might happen to him. But after all, the behavior of others is easier to rectify than his own undeniable feelings for you. Which he cannot control in any way, which is why he reacts to others instead. Looking at other people holding hands, he’s also afraid how dabbling in love is a distraction from threats that can even backfire on uninvolved others if someone is suddenly in harm’s way.

Levi does associate physical touch with something that takes an otherwise observing mind off when it shouldn’t be. To him, it creates something so valuable that can become an unintended burden through all kinds of circumstances, he’s seen it all, it’s terrible he had to. And the reason why he has such a torn relationship with it. You really have to know your stuff to build a resilient little bubble where Levi is not constantly hypervigilant and either past- or future-focused.

Which is pretty damn hardwired into him. It’s almost impossible to bring on that kind of atmosphere spontaneously. It has to be ritualized. His intelligence comes with the downside of overthinking and having problems with spontaneous romance, it’s good to direct his thought into something that’s always done in a specific, structured way. You sit down with tea, put the candles on, Levi finishes cleaning his weapons, makes everything combat-ready and usable in seconds, and you carefully lay down on his impeccably made bed together.

Which he never uses, Levi sleeps in chairs. Or on the ground, so he can feel any titan steps in the distance with his whole body, using the cleanest possible mat or towel as a mattress and nothing else. The bed he basically just makes to have it neat, and for you, and to have a spot to lay together.

But yeah. He will never remove his harness. Not even when you’re sleeping with each other. He’s not once gonna risk having to put it on in a hurry. The only time you will be skin to skin with him is for not even five minutes under the shower. It’s when his cleanliness beats his anxiety around being always ready, which is why that’s a time to fully cherish.

And then, he really has no qualms about you wrapping your hands around his soap-covered torso in the shower anyway. It’s the only time his inner default germaphobe is not vehemently screaming inside his already heavy heart. It doesn’t have anything to do with you, this is about his demons only, confronted with the immense relief you give him. If the latter wins over his mind’s struggle, Levi might draw out the shower time sometimes.

The other voice that tells him ‚don’t make it end so soon’ is now finally convincing him. He will dial down the water stream so he can hear what’s going on outside better to compensate, to know if there’s any ruckus or approaching hazards. Levi has instructed a fast runner among the cadets to bang on the front door under any critical circumstances immediately in the first place.

Levi says he wants to save water, too. He won’t admit it, but he also turns the showerhead to a medium pressure to hear your calm, almost-quiet moans — the barracks have terribly thin walls — better when you’re sucking him off. Slowly, smoothly, not too much spit. Folded towel under your knees because Levi insists, and he is right. The showers in the survey corps have uncomfortable floor tiles.

He makes sure you won’t get soap in your mouth as well, I don’t have to tell you that he is very circumspect. Levi isn’t usually feeling overly heated in moments like this, but he gets hard and releases fast. You swear his cum tastes like afternoon tea with milk but you won’t tell him that. And who doesn’t like tea and Levi’s homemade milk, no complaints alright.

What’s still a shame is that Levi, always being in such a constant hurry and alertness, puts too much stress on his body for him to become horny all the way. In fact, he often forgets it. He feels numb, and can’t fully take in the sensations. Levi has not been able to feel a lot of genuine pleasure in his life.

A racing mind is an absolute sex killer, and his adrenaline spikes are so high in combat that most normal things don’t do anything for him. Which is why he brews his tea extra strong. But seriously: It’s a concerning thing. And it tells you to take your time. With his whole body, doing the things he loves the most. And what else could that be? It’s straightforward: Keepin’ it clean.

You make sure that Levi feels extra comfortable by thoroughly massaging his loins and thighs with a sponge during foreplay. Yes, you’re gently working him up. All in circles and light brushing motions. Lots of soap. Suave and bubbly, like silk on his skin. It’s handmade, with oat milk, lavender, and honey. For your honey. You regularly gift a new one to him to try out scents and have supply. You can guess how much Levi appreciates it, to the moon and back in fact. The present box is neatly stored on his office table where he can always see it.

Sending out its balmy fragrance throughout the day, making the room smell amazingly aromatic to him. His nose will never grow tired or accustomed to it. Levi puts the soapbox in a drawer within literal split seconds when someone who isn’t you enters the room. „Tsk, announce yourself when you knock…“ That could even be the newest recruit who doesn’t know anything at all about the place and people. But this is just a you and him thing.

Levi doesn’t want nosy questions from the squad even though nobody would probably even notice the soap laying there in its case, much less ask him about it or the fresh scent in the air because duh, it’s Levi’s office. But it feels absolutely personal for him — so he reacts sensitively about it. This man would probably protect your lavender soap with his blades if he had to.

The captain is very secretive about your relationship in general. Who on earth would go as far as buy him a new scented bar of joy bi-weekly? At this point, he would crawl on hot coals, needles, lava, ice shards, desert sand, and a mile-long straight of legos (laid out by a maniacally laughing Zeke personally) for you.

Although you wouldn’t allow any of it. Nothing should ever hurt those kitty paws, I mean captain hands and captain feet. You’d put Zeke on blast on your own, luring him with a banana to confuse his senses and then, whack, homerun the monkey into the ocean with Levi’s bristle broom. Problem solved. Anyway.

Levi wouldn’t hurt himself willingly that way either, the ice shards don’t stand a chance. He has sworn to protect his own life out of self-respect, to honor those passed by living on bravely toward the goal they worked for and being the one always coming home to you. You can rely on him.

So enough about gleaming hot coals and Zeke’s evil legos, back to the point — you already get what I mean. Levi might seem totally grumpy on the outside, but for sure is a devoted man, a caliber as always. He takes all of your presents to heart and is unbelieving as to why he’d be deserving of so much. You prove a point using the gifts as regularly as possible on his body. Where he can feel every bit of your fondness of him. And remember it with muscle memory. Oh shit, this soap does smell so good. As anything on him, who are we kidding.

Dousing Levi with all your attention is the best thing ever. He feels great relaxing with you, and his face softens up. He’s looking at you with a tiny smile in response to you whispering sweet things to him, all while you’re using the sponge on his legs, the chest, and ever-tense back that can definitely use some alleviation. „Thank you for cleaning me“ has got to be the best thing ever to hear from Levi Ackerman. It means the entire world to him. Captain, your mommy kink is showing. His arousal increasing is a natural side effect in no time.

Recently, you’ve been slipping his cock between your breasts as well, and it’s been slowing him down a lot after an eventful mission. While at the same time making him more in the moment, he really enjoys you gradually lathering him up like that. The feeling of skin on skin is amazing. It might be something that… often crosses his mind when he trains during the day, but he can blend it out for the important things. Until you do it all over again, and he ruminates about how much you turn him on until the sun rises.

You also never do a blowjob hands-free. Why would you, anyway? His body is amazingly buff and compact, you want to hold onto those gorgeous lil’ hips and his own hands that need a fair share of holding after carrying the world. You feel him twitching on your tongue when you run either hand over his ass and abs, making sure to trace across all his most erogenous spots there. What’s more: Levi feels really protected and soothed when he feels your palms on him under the streaming water, he can’t explain it.

That's why you like doing shower handjobs just as much. I don’t have to tell you that Levi really delights in them as well and his poker face regularly cracks a bit. His eyes fixate on you, you can tell the connection and involvement. He thinks your fingertips are heavenly, a welcome change to his rugged days.

He loves how softly they tease and stimulate him with the smallest movements and subtle presses. Yes, Levi doesn’t like rough action, those are vulnerable moments. He has enough brutality elsewhere, violently jerking him off and insulting him would be entirely inappropriate and even scare him.

He’d probably brush your wrists off right away, it’d be so uncomfortable in the silence of the evening. A tender chain of kisses on the nose tip, chin, collar bone, and especially forehead gets him going a lot more. The more chaste and doting the kiss, the more he melts on the inside.

His anxiety baseline goes down, and he feels like he can let you in. However you guide him and however you choose to indulge him with your lips, Levi is on board, quietly enjoying. Since it’s something that he’s still feeling so new to, leaving you the active role comes naturally.

Stroking him with a deep pace, carefully brushing your lips against his to give him goosebumps — Levi definitely grows into that. In those moments, he really feels taken care of, in safe hands, hands that will stay with him. He’s gonna be surprised just how good something like this feels many times. And be overwhelmed by pleasure to the point where it almost frightens him, he didn’t have that a lot until now.

The satisfaction of a spotless table simply does not compare. Just so you know: He will either be dead silent or mumble under his breath nonstop. That he is okay with you touching him below the belt and even take him in your mouth tells you how much Levi trusts you, how much he knows you love him, and how meticulously he’s already scrubbed and shaved himself beforehand. Yes, the sheer preparation. He puts a lot of work into his body. He couldn’t stand you becoming dirty.

That’s also why the shower is the place oral goes down. And even there, he uses like ten cleaning products to double rinse the stall and himself before and after. Mind you. He sees you eating healthy, brushing your teeth well. Your lips are very beautiful and a masterpiece of nature to him. So it’s not you who he thinks is dirty. Levi is pretty damn paranoid about his own skin and hygiene. If only he would think about himself the way he thinks of your body.

He feels like he has to earn it, be acceptable, and prepare himself endlessly to enjoy touch. Even then, he thinks he must be ugly and revolting. You have to respect him fussing about it rather than forcing him to cut down on his routines. You don’t criticize his perfectionism and see the motivation behind it. So instead, you reassure Levi your own way.

The more he sees you having fun and enjoying his body, the more accepted, confident, and clean he feels. Most people would like to see their partner play up the enthusiasm obviously (unless you have a ‚hiding his amazement’ emo boy kink, which is exactly why you like Levi don’t cha), but it’s particularly meaningful to Levi. Guess why he looks up to Armin’s mentality, and Hange is one of the few people who truly vibe with Levi.

She’s easily amused, dedicated, swooning, excited, and constantly eager. Levi does appreciate a bit of zeal in someone. If you’re a little ardent about touching him, it’ll give his esteem a boost he’s long needed, oh god. Nobody has the guts to praise this guy like that, even if he’s so extremely good-looking. Don’t let him off the hook there. Give him feedback, you’ll be surprised how much it resonates.

It’s already apparent to yourself how keen you are being touchy with him, hell, you’re so in love. Still, it’s a good idea to give him an idea how stoked you are. He doesn’t like it fast and brutally raw without a second thought, but passionate is a whole other debate. A simple „Levi, stay like this, let me do it“ or „Levi, you smell so good“ works wonders. Say what you think and his ease will set in. And I don’t have to tell you that you won’t look like sex is a chore anyway. With Levi, that’s an honor and a pleasure.

That he puts his faith in you and gives you his time is already a massive deal and goes against everything we know of him, what he’s used to, and how his avoidant personality works, being so ridden with losses. And it’s all because of how much you desire and approach him. That’s what it comes down to.

Even if he’d suffer decades from yearning, he’d not go out of his way to kickstart something, never ever. He’d feel like he’d cause you so much trouble. You wanting him so badly and treating his body like a treasure on the other hand changes his mind.

It proves him wrong all the way. There is still time to enjoy love, the chance is now. Anything else would plague Levi with solitude and self-pity all over again. And the feeling of missing you around in his rooms. Two teacups on the table until he grows old and grey are his ideal of a good life, after all. He will open himself to your emotional and physical presence, realizing how touch-starved he is, and how much it improves his life to have someone to kiss and lay down next to at night.

The even breath at the back of his neck gives him a sense of finally someone sticking around with him side by side, even if he’s gone during the day. It feels good and right to be wanted by you, and nuzzling his face into your cotton dress. Your commitment gives him the little smiles and the silver lining he’s been searching for. He can’t label that feeling, but it’s joy of life and humankind, more than just a willingness for it. He would stay forever pained and bitter if he wouldn’t invite it in now, and you won’t waste that chance with being silent.

You’re attracted to everything about him, tell him, make him aware. The voice, the hair, the mannerisms, his height, his abilities, his mind, his care for others, the posture, how soft his cheeks are, the list is endless. Levi won’t miss how much he’s your type at some point. Which gives him a lot of ease, comfort. You show him that his inferiority complex was an entire smokescreen in his mind.

He fucking deserves to be called handsome. And by the way — you can lust over him as much as you want when he’s made that time window for your couple stuff. It’s good if you make it as obvious as possible for him. Which is hard to hide anyway. You’ve been masturbating over Levi just sitting there sternly writing something. And he’s like why, and you’re like, it’s you! Look at you!

Levi does want you to touch his skin all over but it’s always sore. And he remains insecure on many days. So he only has particular comfortable spots in the first place. Since hardly anybody dares to touch him, and even if he pats someone’s shoulder nobody would ever be courageous enough to reciprocate, you would feel a bit like a lab scientist. Silently theorizing over him at first even if you really don’t have to. Other people say they’d rather run towards a titan than expose themselves to Levi’s moods, swords, and barking tone after trying to caress him in any way.

News flash, Levi has had such terrible moods since forever because there’s no affection coming to him from anywhere just because people decided he might not need it. And no, he won’t yell at you for touching. He finds it very sweet of you instead. Touching Levi always creates an occasion that will float around in his head for the entire day, that’s guaranteed. He sees how someone goes out of their way and cares for his well-being. He might not like it like standing in the middle of the whole corps, but anywhere else is fair game, at home anyway.

The pressure of dealing with threats he can manage to a degree, and he has lord how many coping strategies. The lack of love he cannot. Big difference that everybody seems to confuse. On top of how he has to be unrelenting in his position because battlefield and the Yeagers being a pain. Most people — except maybe Armin — see that as a closedness to touching altogether.

The whole world seemingly can't intuit Levi’s craving of gentleness behind the arguably pretty convincing armor, but still. It seems like only a few souls ever think about the Levi that sits down on his bed in the evening completely depleted. You have to make it clear to yourself and him that it’s obviously a one-dimensional way of looking at Levi Ackerman and not good for him.

Which has covertly shaped how he interacts with others in return like a vicious spiral, which is why he blames solely himself for his depravation. And, how severe and untouchable the circumstances made his character. Yes, Levi despises himself for being inaccessible and unable to change it on top, added to how it happened to him over the years.

Which he had pretty much zero influence on being basically at the gunpoint of life. It’s what you hate seeing the most and comfort him about with brewing tea. It definitely comes back tenfold, Levi won’t take it for granted when you brush out his hair and speak soothingly to him in the evening. „I don’t care, those are all reasons why you’re the apple of my eye“ seems to be what makes Levi’s heart a little mushy in particular.

He is very preoccupied with blame at the start of your relationship. Levi is torn apart by daily guilt and a constantly looming perception of failure to show an opening to his heart. He also crumbles under how the majority of people don’t take him seriously, overreact, or fear he snaps back into soldier mode — he doesn’t — when he does show affection.

That you gaze behind his reputation and touch him without prejudice is the most important thing to him. You can ignore his mad and gloomy expression, Paradis has carved it into his face for half an eternity (the other half is for you and him when this is over). It doesn’t mean he’s angry on the inside about you. The causes for his madness are way elsewhere, knowing his early story it goes without saying. What made Levi callous and broken-hearted are things very opposite to you.

Those who only see and enjoy his fighting personality probably want him as their poster boy, people who are reflected enough to bother with the idea of a private, cuddling Levi are the only truly caring ones. Because private Levi needs that physical and emotional connection the most. Patting his cadets on their heads is only a little, albeit meaningful moment. The teacup is still half-empty regardless if you wanna think of it in those terms.

Because he can only do so much in terms of initiative — which already shocks people to the point of paralysis, which ruins the moment since he assumes it’s not appreciated then — and it’s only one-sided. Giving isn’t fully making him happy even if it’s his only option given how most people perceive him.

The teacup only fills to the brim if Levi can let go for like half an hour getting some good ole kitty on your lap treatment. He silently lays there and enjoys your hand rubbing at the back of his neck. He looks genuinely peaceful that way. His hand palms gently at your thigh and knee, and rests there all tranquil while he ruminates about his day and how lucky he is to have you.

The whole ‚theorzing rather than going for it‘ thing stems from you listening to those people a bit too much at the beginning. Instead of asking Levi directly about touch, and to be fair: Not a single human being has done that yet, you try to figure him out at a distance. Which is also a good thing though.

You learn about many Levi habits others would overlook, misinterpret, or don’t think have any meaning. The more you learn about him, the more understanding you become, the more protective you will be, the less he will avoid intimacy. Because Levi really doesn’t want to shy away, but often his body has too much memory in it to be instantly receptive. So it rather starts with the mind, then.

The irony is. Levi rejecting bonds with others as not to have them weigh heavy on his mind when fighting will only make it worse. You make a statement to him that if he fully immerses himself in what you have, he can fight better and actually be without those godforsaken regrets he’s always talking about. That’s why when you’re having sex, you make him look in your eyes and kiss their lids, and wrap your legs around him very firmly because Levi has to know he’s deeply yours.

Hugs, the same thing. You squeeze the last curse out of him every time and tell him to hold you tight as well. You do have to tell him twice. Just because Levi is the strongest man in history, doesn’t mean he embraces very roughly. In fact, Levi is not used to this at all. Even more irony. Paradis’ ever-swearing, most badass titan killer with the physical excellence of a hundred acrobats can’t execute the simple act of putting his arms around you in a normal, casual way.

The why is the harder thing to talk about. Last time he got proper, truly loving hugs was way over 20 years ago. From Kuchel, during a time where he was too young to remember these things long-term. Let that sink in. It confuses him when he does it and even more so when others do. Kissing Historia’s hand even as a light official gesture was already completely unusual for him and a first time.

Levi doesn’t go beyond what he sees others doing in that regard. No extra miles, just imitating. Now think of him with something as big a deal as embracing his lover for minutes. He lets his arms just hang there and you gotta make him learn how to intertwine fingers or how to press his palms on your back. You’re the one holding him tight there, while Levi’s mind and stare go blank, he’s even more speechless and perplexed after confronting his uncle back then.

I’m not kidding. You have to ask Levi to be forthcoming with those things as well, it simply does not occur to him, and he’s unsure about everything there is to it. What a loveless world this guy is in. If it already frustrates you to see him struggle, imagine how deprived he must be. One of his inner blocks is, Levi has major jealousy of guys who are what he thinks a better hugging height. It’s obviously the other way around to anybody who’d be in love with Levi.

Of course he has the best hugging height by far. What’s not to like? He’s ideal. But in his perspective, imagine all these people above him wrapping around each other in moments of enthusiasm, shoulder-level on shoulder-level, or only with slight differences. And when it comes to him, it feels awkward because they feel strange bending down only for him and Armin.

And that’s probably the issue. Because it’s much better not to bend and try and intertwine, but just have Levi bury his face into your winter coat without a hassle. You don’t have to be perfectly chest to chest to make it work. Besides… romantic hugs are always a bit different. And, you invite Levi to do exactly that with you. Since Levi’s pet peeve is politeness, you’ll also have to show him the difference between mere courtesy and love, he hasn’t fully learned it either.

But just so you know. Levi is not a naive baby or raging bull in a china shop once he has given his love to someone. He observes well, adapts well. When it’s heartfelt, when it’s the right moment, it comes out almost by surprise, he’s feeling it and he will respond to you. With serenity and intent.

If there’s someone who can be unpretentious with physicality, that’s him. He just has to transfer that to romantic gestures and Levi will be the perfect lover after some time. He’ll end up like, „Eh, so what. We do this hugging thing!“ — Hilarious. Levi, knowing his battle tactics, does have a sort of innate courage to approach bodies: This time, it’s about someone he wants to give pleasure and gratitude to, though. Which will feel very different.

And you’re a lady he’s all whipped for, that changes everything. He might sort of try to lean at the wall next to you, to murmur about you kissing him after eating cake so he’s full of crumbs „and now I have to dust it all off again, hmph“, but he is not prepared for another kiss and you tickling him pinned against the wall (he’s not ticklish, but you still love it, and Levi has a thing for you being all over him despite his stoic face).

So yeah, Levi will be super grumpy and do the „Oi oi!“ thing, but also turn around so you won’t see the blush. Man, is he embarrassed. He will try to waddle away awkwardly to do paperwork, but no chance if you tug him back by the sleeve, dust off his shirt from crumbs, and squeeze his cheeks into a perfect Levi snoot. I’m telling you, he has a nice pouty face.

He might assume that you’re out of your mind because nobody has done that with him yet, but once you tell him that you just wanna look at him because every day might be the last, he sees the point of your antics. Merely saying you kiss him just because won’t make sense to the captain, it’s gotta have a purpose for the future.

So, you will tell him to always remember what your soothing lips do on him before he draws the blade tomorrow, and that he has plenty of filthy crumbs to come home to. „I think that’s right by what we’ve seen today“ is what he’ll admit, and carries you off to the bed to get grinding because all that stuff made him kinda turned on. Or rather, you grind, Levi on the other hand gets flustered. He complains about you being a tease at length since he’s having a huge she-pinned-me-to-the-wall boner.

You sit on his face to take it even further and as his favorite treat, end of discussion, your goddess is here mister. Geez, you’ll make him a hot mess. That dick won’t go soft anytime soon. You’ll talk to him about when his face is already ruined with cake crumbs, he has nothing to lose, gotta clean up anyway. The grumbling noise from below tells you that the argument is a good one. For good measure, you palm at his trousers to see his legs react and his voice suddenly hitch. Ah, it’s a wonderful day.

Levi knows a thing or two about holding his breath correctly, but what he likes the most is that he feels perfectly sandwiched between thigh Rose and thigh Maria. Yeah, he does consider them his personal comfort walls and hopes they’ll always be there. Congruently, Levi wraps his arms around them, in fact it’s locking rather than wrapping, and you’re like I see wow he’s serious.

On goes his tongue lapping away between your labia pretty much incessantly. The arousal is so intense, you have to breathe in yourself. Oh shit, Levi is gonna try to finish you off, shots fired. Not fast, but insisting. He does not bother with you panting pretty damn hard whatsoever. He’s calling people like that, but Levi might be the real brat all along.

Fair enough, he currently doesn’t hear anything, which he also loves the idea of. All day, people everywhere are talking nonsense, and now he gets to enjoy perfect silence. His ears are small, they’re easy to cover with thighs. He just goes on and on and gets you past lord how many brinks with a heated buildup.

There are a lot of evil things Mister Zeke has said and committed, but by far the most offending thing he has yet insinuated is that Levi is not popular with the ladies. Blasphemy, treason, outrage, éclat, trickery, criminal offense, international slander, the most grueling case of fake news since the horse left the building, and no, Jean is not meant. With those oral skills, any lady interested in him would get a permanently bleeding nose and something else permanently wet as you can personally attest to.

If Paradis would even remotely know what he can do in bed (and they would if Connie told them, he lives next door), even more people would run down his house than they already do to get a piece of him. Jesus Christ, the Ackerstamina. But I mean. People are probably suspecting it.

How can you not move like a god in bed if you can bend yourself into any Pythagorean shape mid-air. Him being a fighter also gives him experience with managing energy when you have sex, I’m not kidding. Levi can even handle you thrusting right back on his tongue, and even your jokes about how he’s getting the cream to his tea now.

Levi is already kind of dripping in juice. His fingers are sweaty, this time it’s something on his face and hands he prefers though. He won’t wipe it off just yet. So you take on the task to put a condom on him — kind of expensive, mysteriously imported, gotta make every one count my friend — and have Levi take you from behind to soil the bedsheets completely at this point.

Levi lets all the leaking happen, of course he notices, and yet he’s too focused on you gripping his cock hard all the way. So much for walls. Levi has to surrender to the thought of you squeezing him in any way you fancy at this point. That doesn’t just include the face, that much he learned. His cock is gonna fall off, you tighten up so much and make him squirm, Levi’s all blissed out.

He can’t handle your ass either. He just stares like the Founding Titan invented a brand new method to hypnotize the Ackermans or something. Although. Why’d you need to come up with something, though? People they love completely enthrall them already.

If we know something by now, it's that every Ackerman gets completely fucked in the head out of the blue and sent to another dimension when they’re with the love of their life, no hypnotizing device needed. Levi is clasping his teeth for his dear life back there. People asking him if he’s gone mad he’d answer ‚maybe‘, but if you asked him if this made him lose it he would admit it.

Since he doesn’t know what to do with his hands again, you ask him to place them at your waist. „Properly, now slide in, Levi.“ — He takes his time for the first few thrusts, grunts, but gets the hang of it, in fact he’s a pro in the making. All that vertical maneuvering can turn into horizontal maneuvering very quickly. Levi feels so strange and so good at the same time, it’s overwhelming. How can something he thought would be so dirty be this amazing?

And since this position allows him to penetrate you even deeper, Levi gets the full experience of being inside of you times two. The wet noise already turns him on, his body feels so warmed up, and he feels really shocked he’s doing this. Although his face won’t show, it’ll be concentrated as before. On the inside, Levi is losing it.

He can’t get enough of your body and how you tell him what to do, Levi will be driving it home in no time. You’re gonna have your jaw dropped by how lusty he can get yourself, but also love how he’s really breaking a sweat just because of your hard grip. Who would have thought. 14-meter class titans got nothing on you. Levi’s entire neck and chest is glazed over. You call him out on it, all you’re gonna get is a little ‚tch, that’s your fault, woman‘. I mean of course it is. He’s literally at your mercy. I told you he’s hilarious.

Little did you know that Levi will straight-up ignore his sweatiness and just continue, one heartbeat at a time, to really fill you out and make you feel good. Can you imagine. Levi dedicating like 20 minutes to make sweet love to you doggystyle.

He has a good feeling for keeping you just on the verge of cumming. He even reaches around to press two fingers into your clit after five minutes of figuring out his angles. You didn’t expect this at all. It’s as if Levi can read your mind going „but his hands are gonna get really messy, why?“ — he just goes on rubbing and says, deadpan: „Miss, do I look like I care.“

Some dirty things in the world are just there to annoy him. They’re not existing to make his life easier. And toilet humor-related things: We know Levi’s stance on that. Wet pussy on the other hand: Surprise. He thinks of it very differently. Levi is pretty caught off guard by the fact that you loving and adoring him is the reason you’re leaking so much.

It sinks in (um, literally) that you’re all drippy because you really want him inside. Not to mention that he constantly realizes just how attracted to him you are. Your desire for him, that’s Ackerman kryptonite. Levi doesn’t miss your eyes, nope. That motherfucker is a damn good face reader.

And— How warmed up your body feels in his hands, how you’re breathing. How you’re telling him exactly how to tilt to hit the good spots. How you’re sucking in air when he does just that. How you sound, grip the pillow, the sheets. Your goosebumps all over your legs. How your lips part. How you wait for every thrust. The way you tell him how good it is. Your pulse. Your own sweaty back, letting his hands on your waist slip and slide a little with the rhythm.

How he’s struggling not to moan his soul out and chokes back. How you’re softly moving to glide off, he’s gonna lose his mind. How much you’re enjoying him and how cute you tell him he is. Whatever you’d ask of him, he’s so ready to fulfill it. You having the absolute hots for Levi is probably gonna preoccupy him for the whole night while you’re sleeping and he sits in the chair.

He’s been shooting grumpy cat level eye daggers with extra Ackerpoison at the corps couples for walking around showing any signs of this. Making all those lovey-dovey faces or going to the back of the barn together. Levi has chased them with his favored broom to whoop-diddly-doop those horndog soldiers back on track, swirling his weapon of choice around to send a sweeping cloud of dust after them.

Whereas now… he has to deal with the fact that he really loves all that horny stuff. Cognitive dissonance 101 is striking him out of nowhere. I mean he’d not fuck in the barn, that one is truly disgustingly shittily bastardly filthy or however he’d word it, but you get the gist. He caught feelings and caught pleasure — and that’s such a good thing.

His problem is, Levi wouldn’t know how to fawn right back at you. Except saying „good job“ like he’d praise a cadet, but he decides that’s not something to say during sex. He’s very right about that indeed. So instead: He will always reply to you accordingly and with Levi-typical honesty.

If you say you love how he kisses your neck from behind, he will tell you he’s enjoying it as well because damn he loves that spot indeed (titans can tell you a story about it… Levi has such a neck fixation, that fucker). And: Letting actions speak the loudest with him. He’s a practical guy. Levi’s hands can to the most complicated reverse grips and all that crazy human Beyblade shit. Getting you off at his fingertips is gonna be his easiest exercise ever once he gets into it.

He doesn’t even do it to show off at this point. Levi is just that kind of a sex machine and eager to please, not to mention god, is he obedient and a giver in disguise. If Levi were offered the most luxurious, expensive tea available versus your breasts to suck on for a week given he’s free of titan duty… that cup is gonna turn cold. He loves the skinship and he loves giving you a fuckton of orgasms, as many as you like and as many he has time for.

Self-explanatory, this is something he will not feel one bit of regret about. Hours touching you is the farthest from wasting time to Levi. The less he holds back with his love, the more secure things become. He doesn’t feel the misery he thought he’d run into, nor does it feel like a reckless act that’s only something feeble.

The new soap every other week on his table alone reminds him you’re here to stay and like his every quirk, and make this a private thing rather than something to parade around. You never lied saying „Levi, you’re mine.“ He does wrap his head around the fact that all of this is happening with time.

Levi finds your relationship meaningful because it gives him feelings and exactly that emotional harbor he never had before, and he gifts you the reverence of your lifetime since Levi doesn’t half-ass anything. You reassured and guided him so much, he looks up to that, it breaks down his prejudice against loving more and more. That’s how you’ll feel intimate in all kinds of ways for very intense hours he can spare to make the most out of it.

From the light touch at his arm to making out until the candles burn down. And if you tell Levi to sell the deal and dedicate his heart, how can he not take that as a serious order. He has to be guarded to put his guard down, and that’s what you can offer him, and he will create something lasting out of it. Promise is promise to him, we all know.

RELATED: sub!levi hc (tea shop au) | life after war (levi’s happy end)

multifandom mlist | levi writings on ao3

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omiscurls · 3 years

Note

I love your writing and how much you’re able to bring out the true personalities of each character!! I was wondering if you could do Kaeya, Xiao, Diluc, Zhongli, and Childe celebrating y/n’s bday. (My birthday was a couple of days ago but I didn’t receive any greetings from my genshin team for some reason... 😔)

happy birthday

a/n: SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! as for your problem, have you tried looking in character>voiceover>voicelines? the wishes should appear there, i dont know what happened if they don't

plot: celebrating the reader's birthday

contains: kaeya, diluc, tartaglia, xiao, zhongli

warnings: brief mentions of alcohol, otherwise pure fluff

kaeya

a surprise party

to be completely honest, kaeya barely cares about his own birthday enough to even remember the date

and obviously he does remember yours, how could he not, but- he's just not used to celebrating, you know?

so watch him know very well your birthday is coming up, with a mindset like: "okay, you've got time, you'll figure something great out, it's gonna be amazing"

and the day or two before he realizes, he indeed wants to do something great and amazing, but he completely ran out of time

fortunately, who cares about reservations when your brother's a bar owner, right?

he figures out that if he waits till sunset with the party he still has an entire day he can spend of preparing everything he needs

so as you sleep peacefully, he sneaks out of the room at the break of dawn, ready to work his ass off

he doesn't want you feeling bad, after all, right?

the thing is, you do start to feel a bit bad, as an entire morning goes by, and not only is kaeya nowhere in sight, literally nobody is! you walk through the streets of mondstadt, looking for any familiar face to spend the time with, but the city seems awfully empty of your friends. you end up having fun at diona's cat's tail, her complaining about everyone, and you, surprisingly, joining in, but it still doesn't replace the companion of your friends.

you go over your day as per usual, and decide to bake yourself a cake, since you think that'll cheer you up. you run out of flour, though, so it's necessary to go over to the store and stock up on some. right as you cross the city's main square, you run into diluc.

"oh, sorry, haven't seen you" you say, not even lifting up your face to look at who's chest did you bump on, until he grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

"someone looks dejected" he says, and you almost want to punch him for not realizing why. instead of doing that, however pleasing it sounds, you just shrug your shoulders. "come on, you look like you could use a special drink of mine"

and with that, he pulls you towards angel's share, letting you complain about your day, though you don't explicitly say it's your birthday, still mad he didn't remember that on his own.

"so he completely ditched you without a word?" he acts surprised and offended "that's so awful-" he continues, opening the door before you.

just as he opens it, and you hear the word "awful" you see the bar as if for the first time. flowery garlands are up beneath the ceiling, the tables are arranged differently and covered with colorful, pastel table cloths, music is playing. the backdoor is opened and you see the outside of the building decorated in a similar manner, candles and fairy lights spread all over the place.

the sun is slowly setting over the buildings visible through the back door, and the atmosphere inside borders on magical, but to top that all off-

"happy birthday!" you hear a lot of voices shout, and your eyes widen at the sight of all those who you hold dear present. you can't help but smile, seeing all of them cheer, grinning from ear to ear.

"i-" you look over at diluc "how'd you pull this off?"

you swear you saw him crack a soft smile before admitting that he in fact, didn't. you're about to ask who did, then, but you're interrupted by a silvery voice, coming from behind you.

"i did" the voice says, a hand moving to cover your eyes "wanna guess who?" you hear a whisper inches away from your ear, shaking from surprise.

affection swells in your chest as you quietly say "kaeya", your smile growing fondler, knowing that aside from all your friends, he's here too, and as a mastermind, at that.

"hope you don't hold leaving you by yourself for a couple of hours against me" he continues, arms sneaking around your waist, chin rested on your shoulder "d'ya like it?"

emotion gets the better of you, and you don't know what to say, so choose only to nod eagerly.

"a lot" you finally whisper, much to kaeya's satisfaction.

"happy birthday, then" he says, suddenly pulling away from you, as to exclaim loudly "attention everyone!!" he takes a fork to ring on his glass "i hereby declare, that the next round's on me!"

cheers fill the room, along with one "yea right" and another "like we'd believe that" before the owner of the bar speaks up as well.

"as much as i'd like to see that" diluc settles "today's drinks are on the house."

diluc

a magical evening

so he’s a fan of planning

not a diehard fan, but a fan nonetheless

it’s just, he would rather have things planned ahead than wake up a day before and not know what to do (like a kaeya) like an idiot.

so you bet he has already calculated how much time he has left the moment you told him the date of your birthday.

unlike kaeya, he prefers to be working alone, but also likes to keep his plans a surprise. he himself hates surprises, but has to admit, doing one for someone else is quite the fun

he stays quiet about your birthday coming up until the very last moment, and if you want to ask him if he wants to do anything with you that day, he says he already has something in mind, you know, nonchalantly. as if he hadn’t been thinking about it for archons know how long

he’ll wake up before you just to wish you a happy birthday the moment you wake up, and he might be unusually affectionate for a bit, but don’t even bother asking what he has planned out - he won’t tell, not even if you beg.

diluc wanted to kick you out of the house all day. “oh, there’s shopping to be done” “oh, this lady wanted to talk to you”, or “you know, come to think of it, didn’t jean say she had something she’d wanted to show you for your birthday?” every lame excuse in the book, he has used it.

you decide to finally grant him what he so obviously wanted, and leave, choosing to walk all around the city, and even outside the gates, you make it quite a trip, not knowing when to come back.

you smile upon thinking about how secretive he tried to be, but how even he, the mighty descendant of one of the noble families of mondstadt, a man as collected and stoic as can be, couldn’t contain his excitement. you saw all his little side smiles and the way he bit his lip a little after settling today’s rough plans with you, he was so happy, you’re satisfied just by seeing that, sometimes forgetting the real reason for why he was actively plotting something.

you walk and walk, and then walk some more, but your legs start to hurt, and you’re growing hungry, so you decide to finally get back home.

when you approach the winery, you can see the lights in the ballroom are lit up from a mile away. your heart can’t help but flip with excitement, since diluc hates using the room, hates throwing parties, and would much rather just forget it exists.

it’s a beautiful venue though, looks like something out of a fairytale, and you always tell him how much you love it. it’s no surprised he decided to use it, but you can’t wait to see it anyway.

as you get closer to the building, it becomes more and more apparent that the ballroom isn’t the only place that got upgraded to a five star level for one night and one night only. the building looks amazing, and the gates are open all the way, as if there was a party to be thrown and guests to arrive any time soon.

but as you’re welcomed into the mansion, there’s no one else in the hall, other than a dressed up diluc, his hair in a high pony, just how you always said you liked it, wearing a suit you hadn’t seen on him since... well, you don’t even recall.

“well, if it isn’t my honorary guest” he announces with an official tone, almost making you a bit flustered.

“what’s all this? am i not, i don’t know, underdressed?” you giggle nervously, and he approaches you, a tiny little black box in his hand.

“you could wear a potato sack and shine brighter than all the stars together” he says softly, showing you the little box. “and as tradition orders, happy birthday.”

you carefully open the box, a simple, silver necklace resting on the little cushion inside. you take it out, and watch the ornament, but can’t for the life of you figure out what it is.

“you see” diluc provides an explanation “it’s a common thing to do to gift someone jewellery as a gift, and almost as common to have necklaces with your star constellation. that is, the allignment the stars were in the moment you were born. but i decided, that i wanted to give you one with the alignment that shone on the sky on the happiest day of my life. well, according to mona it did.”

you stay silent for a second, astonished with the present, before asking

“and that is?”

“the day we met.”

tartaglia

how to surprise your lover 101

when i tell you this boy knew EXACTLY WHAT HE WAS DOING from the moment he first thought of it

now. he loves celebrating, anything, really, the atmosphere of a party is almost magnetic to him

he grew up thinking every person deserves to have an amazing day once a year, only about themselves, so it’s very obvious to him that he IS doing something, and it needs to be huge

now, in a family as big as his, it was hard to keep things a secret, so he developed a whole plan on how to avoid having you finding out what he was planning

and that is: by having you know

it’s really getting annoying, how everybody keeps walking up to you, for a good week now, and asking if you’re excited for the big party childe’s throwing. the first time you hear it, you almost immediately run to confront him about it, since you explicitly said that a party, a big one, at that, is the last thing you want.

he obviously says that it’s nothing, and you needn’t worry about that. not that you trust his words, obviously, but you let it go, partly because you know how attached he is to the idea of a huge celebration, and partly because arguing with someone as stubborn can really be tiring.

so you settle, and fake a smile for every conversation with the alleged “guests” for your alleged party, thinking you’ll just suffer through it and then just do something with your childe the next day, having yourself plan it.

the wait is stressful, and when you finally see tartaglia walk through your bedroom door, dressed up really nicely, with a soft ribbon to tie on your eyes, so you wouldn’t see anything before it’s “time”, you almost want to ditch him, but that would be too rude.

complying begrudgingly, you let him guide you through the city, feeling the cold evening air hit your skin, wondering where did he set up this party of his, since you don’t hear anything.

oh god, is everyone gonna jump out of hiding yelling “happy birthday”? please, not that, at least not that.

when he finally unties the material covering your eyes, you see nothing but a wooden platform at the end of the harbor, with a blanket set up, some really nice-smelling food and what appears to be champagne laying on it. the sun is setting slowly behind the mountains in the distance, the only sound you hear being waves crushing on the rocks.

you can’t help but gasp.

“but” you turn around to face childe with a questioning look “what about the party?”

“what party?” he looks surprised “i never said anything about any party” he adds with a knowing smirk.

as you analyze your surroundings, he watches you with a soft smile.

“come on, don’t be so shocked now” he finally says “i know you better than to plan you something you’d hate. i’m not THAT much of an asshole”

his giggle sounds almost too good in the beautiful scenery around you, and you can’t help but let your eyes water for a little while, before rapidly blinking the tears back.

“is this more similar to what you’ve dreamed of?” he asks.

“yeah” you whisper “yes, it is”

“well, that’s the only thing that matters. shall we?” his hand points to the blanket, and you nod, smiling.

this may or may not be inspired by that one episode of Brooklyn 9-9

xiao

trying something new

birthdays? what’s that

you mean to tell him he has lived two thousand years of his life without realizing the day it was brought to him should be celebrated?

yup, no, you can explain it all you want, he still doesn’t get the idea. he just finds it to be way too trivial, okay?

what gets to him, though, is that there’s a custom of doing something meaningful for the person celebrating their birthday, to make them feel important

well, you should’ve led with that, that he can do!

he would never just go and straight up ask for help if he needed any. so don’t be surprised if you hear yet more new stories about the yaksha that allegedly lives near wangshu inn sneaking into the kitchen, or watching through the glass.

he spends HOURS waiting for the chef to finally prepare the dish he hopes for, and once he does, he follows every step very carefully. and then again. and again. and one more time, up until he feels he can do it himself.

when he finally gets to enter said kitchen, it’s already way past midnight, and everything is dark, barely visible. he manages to find his way around, though, preparing all the ingredients, and starting to mix them the same way the chef did.

turns out it’s not as easy as it looks, for example, he didn’t measure how long this thing is supposed to be cooked, or on what temperature, so the process gets a little messy at one point. he might even have to start over. like, twice, tops.

it’s already nearing dusk when he finishes, taking the fruit of his works with him.

as per usual, you wait for him on the roof, and as per usual you don’t realize he’s right behind you until he speaks up.

“happy birthday” he says out of the blue, causing you to jump up in shock.

“oh my, xiao, you scared me! again!” you laugh.

“it’s today, isn’t it?” he continues, as if he didn’t hear you. when he sees you nod, he awkwardly shows you the package he held behind his back, watching closely as you open it with a questioning look.

inside, there’s a carefully wrapped serving of almond tofu, it could use a little bit of touch ups, but it still looks and smells delicious nonetheless.

“did you do this yourself?” you turn around to face him, smiling in disbelief

“mhm” he gets a little flustered, and decides not to tell you about his little kitchen adventure. “is it… is it good?” he asks, and you smile even more fondly.

“why don’t you come over here and taste it with me?”

zhongli

one can never go wrong with a classic

zhongli knows every single tradition there is to know.

literally.

so you don’t have to even tell him anything - he knows. he might not know what to do with his knowledge, but he does know what would make you happy

this man is a gentleman who believes that some moves to make someone swoon never get old

he even got a free day from work just for the occasion, or he may just think he told hu tao that he wants it? either way, he’s not there. not like his boss isn’t used to it.

right as the clock strikes 5 pm, you hear a knocking on your door. checking how you look one last time, you smile to the reflection in the mirror, and walk over to answer.

as you open said door, you find yourself dumbfounded at the sight of a completely soaked zhongli, rain pouring heavily behind his back. his hair sticks to his face, and all the layers of his suit seem drenched to their very core, but a smile you see so rarely paints his face, as he presents you with a bouquet of flowers.

and my oh my, just how huge is it! he barely even manages to hold it in hand, and the flower crowns hide his entire chest and half his face when he places them in front of you.

“i believe this is for you” he says gently “are you ready to go?”

you can’t even find the right words, as you size the bouquet up, taking it from him with a quiet “thank you so much” before taking it back to the house, already in search of the right vase to put them in.

“may i come in and dry myself up a bit?” he asks, still from the doorstep, and you laugh before granting him the permission.

when the both of you are ready to go, you meet in the hallway, both smiling softly at the other, a bit awkwardly, as the beginning of every meeting is.

“you look even better than usually” he finally says, pride rising in his chest at how your grin widens.

“same goes for you, mr zhongli” you answer just as cheekily, waiting for what he’s gonna say next.

“well, thank you, but i don’t think today’s about me now, is it?” he counters with a bit of a side eye. “shall we go?” he points to the open door, and the both of you leave, you grabbing his arm to fit under one umbrella.

“may i ask where’re we going?”

you can’t miss the way his smile turns prideful and confident as he says:

“i” he accentuates “am taking you out to dinner”

he might feel a bit offended by how sarcastically you gasp at the revelation, but it’s okay. as long as he gets to see you laugh, it’s okay.

daily reminder that requests are open [here]

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sylverstorms · 3 years

Text

Cassandra x Maiden ----Anonymity Ch.10

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9

The day shift gives you ample time and opportunities to walk around the castle. Within a week, you come to know every chamber and pathway you hadn’t previously crossed, intimately.

At first, you pictured making your escape through a weak point in its fortification. The walls are ancient; You would have bet money on one of its parts having given out in the passing of centuries and gone unnoticed. Now, you know such a thing doesn’t exist. It doesn’t really surprise you that Alcina has made sure the exterior is in the same excellent condition as the interior.

But it is a problem.

The walls are too big for you to scale. If there are any stepping points, you can’t see them from within. You tried over and over to at least peak out into the back yard, but the shrieks and growls of monsters had you immediately changing course.

You don’t know what those things are and you’re not eager to find out. According to the older maids, there are more of them deep in the dungeons. It is only a rumor, of course, since nobody has ventured down there and returned to tell the tale.

Which, taking the window bars into account… leaves only one way out.

The front door.

You are aware that Lady Dimitrescu and the daughters all have a key on them. You know from Cassandra those are the only copies. Nothing enters or leaves unless one of them allows it.

There is not a snowflake’s chance in hell you’re getting Alcina’s key. She will murder you on sight. Bela won’t do anything to disappoint her mother, so that rules her out, as well. Daniela is the one most likely to misplace it or be persuaded to give it to you, but the girl is as unpredictable as she is sly and you won’t risk your wellbeing for a distant chance.

That means…

Cassandra is the only way out, isn’t she…

You lay low and await an afternoon where the cold is downright bone-piercing. As warm as the castle is, with fireplaces burning everywhere, you can still feel the stinging kiss of the outside frost every time you so much as go near a window.

And it all comes full circle right back to the start; You in front of Cassandra’s bedroom door, trembling with anxiety like the very first time. It is oddly fitting, in a way, that the story of the two of you ends where it began.

For a moment, you almost marvel at how long ago it feels, now. But there is no time nor space in your heart for sentimentality anymore. You stand at the point of no return.

And you cross it as soon as you turn the handle.

Cassandra’s bedroom is softly illuminated by the dying embers of the fireplace. You walk forward cautiously, slowly, almost as if you’re expecting a landmine to go off at a single misstep. Except –well. A mine would be far more merciful. Just an explosion and then nothing. If Cassandra wakes…

You try not to think about it, lest your muscles lock in place.

Underneath the heavy covers of the bed, you see her, cocooned, pale fingers clutching tight at the blankets. It is too early for her to wake. She is deeply asleep, you tell yourself, simultaneously praying she doesn’t open her eyes.

You make it to her vanity, soundless. Her amber-jeweled choker and the necklace she and her sisters wear are neatly arranged, yet the key you’re looking for isn’t with them.

Shit. You inwardly curse, your hand shaking from the nerves. It means she’s put it in the drawer of her bedside table. It means you have to go next to her, to literally put your fingers in the sleeping wolf’s parted jaws and hope they don’t clamp down.

Easy, right?

An unsteady exhale later, you move further in and carefully kneel by the small furniture. Keep your eyes on the prize. Keep—

But you make the mistake of looking to the side.

Cassandra’s expression is not relaxed in sleep like how you remember it from the time when you would wake her up. Instead, her brow is furrowed, the line of her mouth pressed thin. She’s shivering, you realize, either from the cold or a nightmare or both. Shadows dance across her beautiful face.

Your first instinct is still to reach over and soothe her. You hate it, but you’ve accepted you won’t be over whatever it is you feel for her in quite some time.

It is not your place anymore to touch her, you remind yourself. You cannot ease her through her fears now that she has become your own.

With a clenched jaw, you force your body through the motions of opening the drawer and taking the key within.

At last. Your freedom is in your grasp.

And yet.

Shouldn’t you be happier about it?

Cassandra’s voice nearly knocks the air out of your lungs when it reaches your ears, faint. “No… please…”

You forget how to breathe for a couple of seconds. When your wide eyes shift to her, though, you realize she’s merely talking in her sleep.

Leave. Leave while you can.

But your chest constricts when you hear her sob. “…don’t leave me here… please…”

And out of all the possible things she could say, she utters those words and smashes your glass heart with a sledgehammer into a trillion pieces. The shards cut into you and it hurts—

You pause at the door. The corners of your vision have started to blur.

And then the world snaps, sharply, back into focus when her tone changes;

“…Alexia…?”

Your eyes lock, hazel to amber-grey, for a split second.

You run.

You don’t think you have ever ran this fast in your entire life. But it’s different now that it is about your life.

Adrenaline rushes throughout your bloodstream. You’re not thinking, just acting. Just fleeing.

Death, in the form of a black swarm, closes in on you with every rapid heartbeat. Cassandra is faster –she can fly and you’re only human—and at this rate you won’t even escape the corridor, much less the castle.

Flies break ahead of the rest and attach themselves to you. The sting of their bite at your nape and arms nearly has you howling in agony. She meant it when she said she would kill you herself. Not that you doubted it. Not for a second.

Because if Cassandra can’t have you, she will make sure nobody will.

You didn’t want to hurt her back the first time, but the stakes are too high now. You grab the nearest solid antiquity in your panic and throw it with all your might against the nearest window.

Glass shatters and the temperature plummets with it. Over your shoulder, you hear her scream. More out of rage than pain.

The flies biting at you drop to the floor, grey and paralyzed. You hear her shout pierce through your eardrums like a gunshot as you dash towards the turn—

“You won’t ever get to that door, Alexia!”

From the corner of your eye, you notice a blur coming towards you and instinctively drop down. A heavy thump later, your frantic eyes fly to the wall to see her sickle embedded halfway through a painting. If you hadn’t reacted in time, that would have been you.

Still, she can’t cross the hallway now, so you scramble to your feet and run while she takes the long way around. Question is, will you make it to the front door before she does?

It becomes a race where the winner takes all.

You practically jump down entire sets of stairs in your struggle for survival and you have no clue how you do it. You just know you can’t slow down for even a second.

The castle feels ten times as large as it actually is. By the time you descend the last staircase and the sound of buzzing insects grows in volume, the entrance is within sight.

You reach for another decoration and smash another window. Cassandra slows down, forced to materialize out of the swarm before she can’t will her body back together at all.

You shove the key into the lock and turn it.

Cassandra fights through the rush of frozen air, taking step after weighted step towards you—

“I won’t…let you leave here…alive.” she hisses, her teeth bared at you, skin growing too pale yet eyes blazing.

“I’m done being your prisoner.” you say back, voice hoarse and raw…

And you open the door. Steps taken backwards carry you away from her faster than she can make it to you. You can see her pain and her frustration, but they cannot compare to your own.

Your wounds ache from the frost.

Cassandra seems just about ready to leap at you even if it will certainly mean something very bad for her—

Until a black blur shoves her a dozen meters back. Bela’s back stands between you and Cassandra’s cracking form. Daniela soon lands off to the side, looking between the two of them.

“Get out of the way, Bela!” Cassandra snaps.

“It’s over.” Bela replies, a grave finality to her voice.

Your breaths are coming out in harsh puffs of smoke. You still have trouble believing that you did it. That they can’t follow anymore. You did it.

“Nothing’s over!” Cassandra snarls and lunges for her elder sister.

The blonde, deadly calm, grabs her by the neck in a choke-hold and drags her closer to the nearly-extinguished warmth of the fireplace. The way Cassandra thrashes in her arms is downright heartbreaking.

Daniela looks at you, almost saddened, then back at her sisters.

“Shh. Calm down, Cassandra. Let go. Mother will be here soon. Don’t let her see you like this.” Bela says. “If you’ve any parting words to say to Alexia, say them now.”

You’re shivering. The cold nips through every layer of clothes you’re wearing to bite straight at your flushed skin. But you don’t move further away. You wait. Why am I even waiting, though?

Realization slowly sinks in, you can tell from Cassandra’s expression. Beyond the wounded pride of the apex predator losing a fight to a rabbit… she understands that she will never see you again.

Bela releases her and steps away, adjacent to Daniela.

“You’ve earned your freedom, Alexia.” Bela speaks under her hood. “Nobody’s ever managed to escape, before. Respect.” In another life, maybe her and you could have been friends. Maybe.

“So you’re really… leaving?” Daniela’s lower lip is slightly jutted into a little pout. “I… who will I use to get on Cassandra’s nerves, now?”

“I’d say it’s been nice, but.” you speak up between pants, birthing forth puffs of smoke. “I was taken from my home and sent here as a slave, so.” You can’t help the bitter grimace.

Cassandra’s chest is heaving, yet she isn’t looking at you. It doesn’t look like she has anything to say to you, either. But you have words for her, because you need to get this out at last, you need to be free of this weight or you will never really have escaped this nightmare.

“Even as your captive, you know what I fucking thought? You three can be so beautiful when you toy with the idea of basic human empathy. I don’t know what you saw our time as, Cassandra, but I was genuinely attracted to you. I wanted to be together with you. At some point, I was even happy!”

You’ve inhaled so much icy air your lungs probably won’t be doing great for very much longer but God, this is so cathartic. And so enraging that she’s not meeting your eyes now, at the very end of it all.

“Look at me! I care for you, deeply, but I can’t do this anymore! I don’t want to live in a cage as a pretty sacrifice, with you as my jailer. I can’t. You don’t know how psychologically destructive it is. You don’t know what it feels like!” you end with a hitched shout.

You hear the ominous sound of heavy heels hurriedly descending the staircase. “By Miranda! What is going on— Cassandra?!”

All three daughters freeze up for a moment.

Then Daniela touches her head as though she’s having a migraine and Bela shuts her eyes tightly, shoulders tensed. And Cassandra… drops on her knees to the floor, gasping for oxygen, clutching at her temples.

Bela shakes her head to snap out of it. Daniela still looks dazed and afraid… but Cassandra is nearly crying—

And then, in her panic attack, she whispers; “Don’t abandon me like they did, Alexia.”

You don’t know who she means or what you’re doing, until you’ve dashed back inside and gathered her chilled form into your arms, tight. You keep her there like you wish someone had held you during your storms. It doesn’t matter that you’re so much weaker than Cassandra, when what haunts her is too powerful even for her to face.

Alcina extends her claws as she advances on you.

You could probably still get away if you make a run for it, but where will you even go, when your heart is right here with the woman in your arms? The world beyond the village died for you a long time ago. The village died in a literal sense.

You wanted to be free. But freedom and being with her aren’t mutually exclusive. Why did it take me this long to figure it out…?

Alcina is too close now. You turn to kiss Cassandra’s hair for what may be the last time. You do not let go.

Bela and Daniela step in front of you.

Alcina gives them a warning, narrowed look.

“Uh— you know what, I just stepped forward because I saw Bela move. Haha, nevermind.” The redhead retreats once more. Maybe you’d roll your eyes at her if you weren’t bracing for your execution.

“Bela… step aside.” Lady Dimitrescu’s tone leaves no room for disobedience.

The eldest daughter lowers her head and hesitantly opens the path, as well.

Alcina casts a deep shadow over you in her massive height and giant claws. You lock eyes with her briefly, with the last, flickering cinders of your courage. Then you shift your face down into Cassandra’s shoulder and prepare to be skewered through. Her fingers clutch you almost painfully close to her.

“As for you…” there’s a growl in Alcina’s voice that makes you cower in terror.

Except...

The horrible pain you expected takes a little too long to come.

“…you have backbone, little human, I will admit.” Is that… is that a smirk you hear in her tone? “And my daughters do seem to want you around…”

…What?

Cassandra slowly pulls away from you to look up at her in disbelief and you dare to open your eyes. The claws are still uncomfortably close to your face.

“I will take responsibility for the damage, mother. Just, please, let her stay with me.” Cassandra says.

“…Hm. Very well. I expect the windows repaired by dinner.” Alcina gracefully pivots and just like that, takes her leave.

You and the sisters are left there, unbreathing, unmoving, wondering what just happened.

“Too cold. See you at dinner.” Daniela is the first to speak up. She rapidly waves and disappears like she’s being hunted by an army.

Bela glances at you, then at her middle sister. “We need to talk. But later. For now, defrost.” She, too, disperses in a swarm of flies.

Cassandra, uncharacteristically vulnerable, looks into your eyes and brings a crystalline hand to your cheek. The soft way she does it, it may as well be the apology she is too proud to voice. You both lean towards each other, resting your foreheads together.

You have a lot to talk about. But there is time.

#cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x oc #resident evil village #fanfiction #writing #we're almost at the end of this guys #thank you for all your sweet support #hope group therapy won't be needed

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legoshi-plz · 3 years

Note

How about birthday prompts (Like how they celebrate your birthday and how you celebrate theirs)?

Warning: NSFW-ish themes (Riz and Bill’s part),

All Characters are adults, around mid-20s here. So basically a couple years after college. Except for Gouhin, Oguma, and Gosha who are their canon ages.

Reader is Gender Neutral

Louis:

Your Birthday:

- Mr. MoneyBags here is going to go all out as far as expenses go.

- Fancy Dinner at an elegant restaurant, picks you up in his ridiculous sports car which you’ve rode in a million times but it’s still exciting. (Also, Louis drives extremely fast. He’s a good driver but if he’s not going at least 30 miles over the speed limit, he feels like he might as well be parked in the street. Also has a bad habit of running red lights and stop signs just because he can.)

- Buys you a brand new outfit just to wear to dinner and has it delivered to you in the morning in a red velvet box with a silk bow. You’re a little uncomfortable with the whole high society scene but you go along with it anyway for Louis’ sake.

- At dinner, he orders for you. He has a bad habit of doing that, even though you’ve told him multiple times you’re capable of making your own decisions. At least he usually orders you something you end up liking.

- Night concludes back at his place, he pulls out another velvet box similar to one from this morning except this box is much smaller which only meant one thing: jewelry.

- “Louis... Are there diamonds in this?”

- “....”

-“Louis...”

-“.... Maybe...”

- You refuse to accept the overly expensive gift, refuse to even look at it. You give it back to him and you could see he’s a little hurt but you assure him you know he means well but everything was just a little too much and you felt out of place.

- He accepts your criticism gracefully even if he is a little frustrated you wouldn’t accept his gift he spent so much time picking out. He promises to tone it down next year.

His Birthday:

- You actually really hate Louis’ birthday because he almost never spends it with you.

- He always works on his birthday, not seeing it as important enough to halt business.

- You’ve tried everything from bribing his assistant to haggling his bodyguards but nobody can get Louis out of his office in his birthday.

- You’ve learned to let it go, and usually surprise him by doing something special the week before.

Legoshi:

Your Birthday:

- All about being sweet. Values time and effort over anything and hopes that you see it that way too.

- Makes you breakfast in bed, he’s a pretty good cook all things considering (it’s a skill he picked up while being a waiter.)

- Takes you out for lunch, the two of you spend the day doing pretty regular couple stuff but you’re just happy to be there with him.

- Your present is something that’s both useful and to your taste, like along the lines of a sweater or cardigan in your favorite color. He makes sure it’s oversized because he knows how much you love to wear his sweaters and he even has your name embroidered in small cursive letters above the heart.

- You love your gift and how the two of you spent the day.

His Birthday:

- You two spend it almost identically, just with he roles reversed.

-Legoshi is still a little uncomfortable with extra attention so if you want to incorporate his friends into anything then you’ll have to be really stealthy about it.

- No surprise parties please, he literally would melt into the floor with embarrassment. Best to take him somewhere and his friends slowly join in organically (or at least, you hoped it came off as organic but it really didn’t)

- “Hey Legoshi, fancy seeing you two here at this restaurant in this reserved section. Mind if I join ya?” By the tenth time that exact excuse was used, the cat was well out of the bag.

- Legoshi appreciates your efforts though, even if he’s not one for attention. He sort of clings to you the entire night, whether it be holding your hand, gripping your thigh, encircling your waist, etc. as long as he’s touching you, he feels calmer and it helps tone down his anxiety.

- Overall, Legoshi’s the type to be fine with almost any birthday celebration (or even none at all) as long as he can be with you.

Juno:

Your Birthday:

- Makes you do something spontaneous for once, even if you’re hesitant.

- Takes you somewhere like Skydiving, or Paragliding, or Bungee Jumping. If you’re adamant about making it to your next birthday not risking your life then she will settle for something a little more mild like Scuba Diving.

- Can not stop gushing about how hot you look in your wetsuit and flusters you in front of the Scuba instructor (he’s an older Walrus and finds it cute to see young animals in love).

- The two of you end up having a blast and you’re happy you went along with Juno’s plan, even if it tired you out completely.

- Once the two of you get home and shower, you collapse onto the bed and fall asleep almost immediately, the exhaustion from the deep diving really taking it’s toll.

- Juno enters the bedroom holding a cake with lit candles and wearing brand new sexy lingerie she purchased just for you to rip off of her. She’s a little disappointed to find you unconscious but she figures it is your birthday and you can sleep if you want to.

- She blows out the candles for you and puts the cake in the kitchen, then she throws on a robe and snuggles up next your slumbering figure.

Her Birthday:

- She wants to travel for her birthday and she can’t think of anyone she’d rather take a trip with more than you.

- You two go somewhere hot and tropical, probably somewhere near a beach (she loves any excuse to wear a bikini and sunbathe)

- You two probably find a bar near the beach and get drunk, her moreso then you because you start to sober up as the night goes on so you’re able to take care of her.

- You take her back to the hotel and tuck her in after helping her get ready for bed. She a giggling, flirty drunk mess the entire time but it still makes your heart soar because you know she had fun.

- Before she falls asleep, she whispers to you that this was her favorite birthday yet.

Riz:

Your Birthday:

- He’s waking you up with morning head, no way around it. You wake up to him kissing your neck, then your collarbone, down your stomach and he just keeps going down until he has you whimpering and falling apart beneath him.

- Then the two of you take a shower together and he’s making you cum for him in a totally different way.

- But once you finally pry his humongous paws off of you, you think you’ll be able to relax but he has other plans.

- He sends you off to the Spa. He’s not going in with you because he wouldn’t be caught dead in one but buys you the best top of the line experience . You enjoy the peace and relaxation but you’re kind of lonely and just want to be with him.

- When you get home, he presents your gift to you which is probably something big and wooden that he made himself because he’s great with his hands and actually an amazing craftsman. Probably something like a intricate Wooden Gazebo outside so you could sit and enjoy your garden.

- “Riz, how the hell did you get this back here without me knowing?” You ask, your arms still wrapped around his neck from where you squealed in excitement, lavishing him with kisses.

- “Built it off site, just needed a few hours to install it,” Riz winked, cupping your ass with both hands and lifting you up so your legs could wrap around his waist.

- “So that’s why you made me spend my birthday alone?” You pouted.

- “Yeah, m’sorry about that, baby. But I can make it up to you...” Riz growled, carrying you inside to the bedroom.

“Wait, I wasn’t done looking at my gift,” you giggled as he began nipping at the fur at the base of your neck.

“Trust me, it’s not going anywhere,”

His Birthday:

- Riz loves nature and outside in general. So for his birthday you plan a camping trip deep in the forest.

- You don’t tell him anything about it, you just make him request two days off of work, no questions asked.

- You two leave early in the morning, drive deep into the forest and then you spring it on him. You also let him know that if he doesn’t like the idea, theres still time to turn back and spend his birthday in the city.

- Not a chance if that happening though, this man LOVES the outdoors. He’s already halfway out the car before you could even put it in park.

- The two of you have a blast setting up the tent, making the campfire, cooking dinner over said campfire, and communing with nature.

- “There’s a river that runs north of here, it’s about a 15 minute walk from here, I figured we could go fishing there tomorrow morning,” You tell him as you sit in his lap, admiring the fire.

- However, the two of you don’t make it there until we’ll into the afternoon and it was a miracle you made it there at all. Riz had fucked you senseless last night, the atmosphere of nature giving him a newfound surge of energy. It’s a good thing no one was around because the two of you were almost embarrassingly loud.

- Anyways, Riz thoroughly enjoys his weekend of wilderness and fucking you like a wild animal all throughout the forest. You enjoy it as well despite the fact he has you almost limping by the end of the trip.

Bill:

Your Birthday:

- Honestly, he forgets. If you wait on him to remember or ‘surprise you’, then you’ll only end up ruining your own birthday.

- If you remind him on the day of, he takes you out to eat at a nice restaurant but it’s still very last minute.

- If you remind him the day before, he’ll at least get you a gift but it’s last minute.

- Overall, if you want to actually enjoy your birthday with him, you better plan it yourself

His Birthday:

- Plans an entire house party himself and invites everyone, it seems, but you. He wasn’t exactly aiming to exclude you, he just thought it’d be a given that you would be there. However, if you didn’t show up, he wouldn’t really notice either way.

- It’s wild and crazy. A ridiculously huge amount of people show up and there’s alcohol coming from every direction, and Bill is soaking up every ounce of the attention.

- Once you finally had enough of being ignored, you go home. You doubt that Bill will even notice you’ve left.

- You’re at home, showered, and about to head to bed when your phone starts ringing. It’s an unknown number so you let it ring out. But then they call back again, and again, and again. Disturbed, you accept it on the fourth call just in case it’s an emergency.

- “Finally they picked up! Y/N? You there?” It was one of Bill’s friends. Apparently in his drunken state, he went into a rage when he couldn’t find you and had been crying for you to come back for almost an hour. He was inconsolable and his friends knew there was only a matter of time before he started a fight at his own party. You were irritated but you still allowed them to drop him off at your place.

- The second you answered your front door, the giant tiger in question was all over you, squeezing you right and asking why you left him. You helped him inside and laid him in your bed.

- He cuddled with you for maybe 10 minutes tops before he was out like a light. You end up falling asleep next to him, finally enjoying a little peace for once tonight.

- That peace doesn’t last long though, Bill wakes up the next morning horny. Like extremely horny. You wake up to him grinding against your thighs, whimpering and begging to let him fuck you. You give in to the belated birthday boy and he proceeds to give you the sloppiest, most sensual, earth-shattering morning strokes of your life. You’re so mind blown by how good he fucked you, you forget about how angry you were with him.

- After a well needed shower, he takes you out for breakfast to apologize for how much of an ass he was on his birthday. You accept but tell him if he ever pulls something like that again, he can look for a new lover.

Collot:

Your Birthday:

- Surprisingly wants to spoil you on your birthday but unlike Riz, he actually minds being apart from you (he’s hella clingy, he just hates to admit it) so whatever activities he has planned, the two of you are doing it together.

- Takes you to a fancy resort, somewhere in the mountains where it’s cold and there’s snow on the ground even during the summer months.

- The two of you attempt skiing but you’re terrible at it and he ends up laughing at you falling majority of it.

- You two also enjoy the giant jacuzzi the lounge has to offer but Collot can not keep his hands off of you and eventually you two have to run back to your room for a midday quickie.

- His birthday gift to you is something simple, like a necklace with your birthstone in it. You love it and allow him to put it on you.

- The rest of the evening, it’s just you and your man, walking along the Snow filled grounds, sipping warm apple cider, and enjoying the break from the rest of the world.

Gouhin:

His Birthday:

- This man wants REST. No need to go all out, his life is crazy enough the other 365 days of the year. Just give him some peace and relaxation and he’s good to go.

- He also loves your cooking and wouldn’t be opposed to you cooking him a huge meal.

- Also loves your body and wouldn’t be opposed to you doing that thing that he really likes in bed ;)

- Your gift to him would be something he can use but also is a little unnecessary. Something like a ridiculously fancy, golden calligraphy pen for his office or a brand new crossbow with genuine leather straps. He’s pretty hard to shop for so it’s always best to go with something he already has, just a newer model.

- Honestly just wants to spend his birthday with his baby (you) as if it’s any other day.

Gosha:

Your Birthday:

- Gosha is so lovable, he’s probably more excited it’s your birthday than you are.

- He’s picked up quite a few skills over the years and baking is one of them. Bakes you a giant birthday cake in your favorite flavor. You’re grateful he was so thoughtful and made such an extravagant cake but there’s no way you’re going to finish this entire thing.

- You end up inviting over friends just to get rid of some of the cake, which they’re more than happy to do since it’s absolutely delicious.

- A few of your friends bring group dishes and fancy wine and soon it’s a whole party underway. The small gathering is actually a blast and you can’t think of a better way to spend your birthday other than surrounded by the people you love.

Oguma:

Your Birthday:

- Mr. Moneybags 2.0

- Gets you a crazy expensive gift like a brand new car and calls it a day.

- Not really much for spending time or celebrating traditionally. But to compensate, he’ll buy you the world (even after you’ve repeatedly told him you don’t need all that.)

- Probably won’t even see you on your birthday because his schedule is so overbooked but sends you plenty of gifts to remind you that he loves you.

- It stings not seeing him on your birthday but at this point in the relationship, you don’t really expect anything else from him.

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writingsbychlo · 3 years

Text

sinner | bucky barnes

word count; 14,861

summary; bucky is spending the one day he get’s to walk the earth freely the way he usually does. normal demon things. then, he meets his angel.

notes; I got carried away, nothing else to say. the pic is pretty much exactly how I picture demon!bucky looking. also, I did not proofread this, because it’s three am. take it easy on me if it’s riddled with grammatical fuck-ups.

warnings; it’s literally called ‘sinner’. you can work out the warnings.

Bucky didn’t mean to run into you, in fact, you certainly weren’t what he was looking for as he wandered the aisles of a grocery store at two in the morning, but he still had hours before the day really began and the fun could really start, but sometimes he’d find runaways or strays who were so high he thought they surely shouldn’t be able to stand, who he could convince to do a little theft, but then there was you.

Here he was, making the absolute most of the first few hours of the one day that demons were allowed to walk the earth, darkness still filling the sky and a cold breeze that was more than enough to make him shivering the coolness of the late-year air, and then you’d strolled in.

An angel on earth, literally.

He’d heard tales, girls so pretty they could bring you to your knees, an aura that glowed and glittered, all things holy and magical, and the absolute opposite of him, and he was drawn to you from the second that you’d stepped into the building. The cashier behind the till was just a kid, snoozing against his hand as the addict in aisle three continues to shove chocolate bars into his pocket, upon hearing whisperings that he should - something Bucky was still smirking about - as he followed you around towards the bread section.

He could see you more clearly now, and you really were gorgeous. Soft skin, covered mostly by hospital scrubs, and he tried to cover his scoff, finding it absolutely typical that an angel would be here working in a hospital, some kind of selfless act, and he wouldn't be at all surprised if you were a volunteer too, just to really rub your altruistic nature into everybody else’s faces. That was the one thing he didn’t understand, he didn’t get how everybody looked up to Heaven and prayed to a God or deity, how nobody thought it odd how they were all constantly being shamed by bars they could never reach, set so high they weren’t even in sight anymore, but then again, he didn’t like to judge.

Not when his own actions would be so heavily frowned upon, but what can you expect from a demon? It’s in his nature.

You were tired, you weren’t paying much attention, a scrap of paper in your hands that look awfully similar to the back of a prescription as you moved through the store, trying to fill your basket with everything you’d need, none the wiser as he tailed you slowly, studying you, trying to work it out. From all the stories he’d heard, angels had left the earth long ago, so long that their existence at all had become something that he’d heard questioned many times in the underworld, and so he couldn't quite work out why you were herein a gas station store in the first few hours of Halloween morning.

He wanted answers, he wanted to get a little closer, confirm it all for himself, and as you spun around to head to the checkout, you crashed right into him, a yelp leaving you as you jumped back, and your eyes finally met his, once you had steadied yourself. One look into his eyes, a quick flicker around the edges of his body as he was certain you could see his own aura, tainted and stained with darkness, before your eyes were going infinitely wider, and the basket in your hands fell to the floor with a crash.

The items scattered around his feet, tins rolling away and disappearing under shelves, and that exhaustion you’d once had was fading away, replaced with shock and fear, and as you took a step back, he took another step forwards, crowding you up into the shelves, a hand on either side of your head to keep you kept from leaving, and a smirk took over as he watched you tremble a little.

“Demon.”

You hissed the word out like an insult, and he feigned offence, before that wicked smirk he knew he was wearing twisted up into a sinister grin, head tipping to the side just a little. “Well, hey there, angel.”

“What do you want?”

“You’re very hostile. I haven’t even done anything to you.” He paused, eyes scanning over your face, closing in on the place where you were nibbling on your lower lip anxiously. “Yet.”

“If you’re going to kill me, then just kill me, demon. Get it over with.” You were shaking now, full-blown fear, and he let out a little sigh, dropping his hands but remaining where he stood.

“There’s no fun in that, is there?” You only scowled, standing strong in spite of the fact that he could practically hear your heart beating out of your chest. “What are you doing here?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means; what are you doing on Earth, on all Hallow’s Eve?” You had the guts to shove at his shoulders a little, pushing past him to begin to collect your shopping back up, and he sank down into a squat, tipping the basket back to the way it should be, and placing the items back within it carefully, waiting for your answer.

“I live on Earth, and I’m running late to get home. Away from the likes of you.”

He handed you back your basket as the two of you stood, having gathered everything you could find, and he let out a low ‘oooh’ in teasing at your words, laughing through it as the furrow between your brows only deepened. “I thought angels didn’t live here anymore, not holy enough for you once it was corrupted with sin, so you all retreated back up to the promised lands, to spit on the rest of us from the clouds.” He sneered it a little, he couldn’t help it, but you avoided his eyes, shoulders sinking as you shrugged.

“Yes, well, that would be spectacular and all, but they don’t let halfbreeds into Heaven.” He waited, walking alongside you as you moved towards the counter, and he would laugh at his own image if he could see himself now, but somehow, here he was, wasting the only day of the year that he was free to walk around the surface and escape from the depths of the underworlds by helping you pack your groceries. “My father was one of them, and my mother was not. I’m just a cast out. Earning my way.”

“Interesting.”

You only deadpanned, punching your PIN into the machine a little more aggressively than he thought would be normal for you, but then again, you were on edge, and even with your soured mood, you still wished a cheery goodnight to the kid behind the register that made him sick with the amount of earnest goodwill lacing your tone. “What do you want from me, if not to kill me? Is this part of the thrill for you, to make me let me guard down and then to kill me?”

“I don’t want to kill you.”

“All demons want to kill people.” You stopped short at the door, and he almost bumped into you, close to dropping the bags in his arms as he avoided the collision, raising his brows a little bit as you glared at him, before snatching your backs from his arms and taking a wide step back from him.

“I see I’m not the only ones with misguided ideas about the other.” He tried to take a step forward, but you twisted away from him, protective of your groceries and your life. “Not all demons want to kill. Some of us just get our kicks by convincing people to commit petty crimes and scaring kids on Halloween night. Well, that and stealing candy from babies, obviously.”

He could see the way you tried to suppress your amusement, but your lips flicked up at the sides, and you dropped your shoulders, seeming to give in. Your eyes rolled slightly, before you were moving once again, clearly trusting him enough to let him walk you over to his car, and he held your bags for you as you opened it, loading them into the trunk before slamming it shut, leaning against the cold metal. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, demons can only come up to the surface on H-”

“No, I don’t mean here.” You waved your arms, making a large circle that he supposed was supposed to represent the Earth, before you were pointing at the building behind you both, shaking your head. “I meant here. Like, the grocery store. Surely that’s wasting your one day.”

“Well, I met you, didn’t I, angel?”

“Stop being so.. flirty.” You shuffled uncomfortably under his stare, your true nature showing through, and a shock of thrill and excitement raced through him, tucking some hair behind your ear, before you shook him off.

“Can’t help it. It’s in my nature. Lust, and the other ‘deadly’ sins, as such.” You didn’t reply, and as much as he hated to admit it, you were the most exciting thing that had happened to him in decades of Halloweens, so he gave in, moving a half-step away for you again to give you your space. “Not much to do at this hour, except kill people in alleyways. But, that’s not really my style.”

“I see.”

“Can I be brutally honest with you?”

“Have you lied to me, already? We’ve only known each other for twenty minutes. Then again, you are a sinner.” He chuckled at your pathetic jab, but shook his head in denial, soothing you a little.

“Your life sucks.”

“It does not!” You crossed your arms over your chest, foot stomping a little, and it was an adorable display of anger if he was being true to his thoughts.

“Yeah? Let me guess, you’re wearing scrubs so I reckon you work at a hospital or care facility, probably a volunteer too, or you do some kind of volunteer work to fill your time. You took a night shift tonight to cover for someone else, because you just can’t say ‘no’, even though you should’ve been inside keeping safe from ‘the likes of me’, as you put it, and I bet you’ve never even been kissed. You’re pure, completely and totally, you probably have a routine, oatmeal for breakfast, Church on Sundays, bible on the bedside table.”

You gaped at him, jaw hanging slack now, and he reached a finger up to push it closed, and you soon formed an irritated pout in response.

“So, did I get anything wrong?”

“No.” You grumbled it under your breath, gritted out angrily, and he only laughed in response, winding you up further. Your foot swung out, colliding with his ankle before you even realised you were doing it, and as he bent over, crippled to grip at the sore patch in pain, your eyes went wide, fear suddenly flashing over your features again. I’m so sorry! I don’t know why I did that!”

“That would be wrath.” You shook your head, stepping away from him, and he could only nod in response, grin getting wider as he watched realisation flash across your features. “How did your first sin feel?”

“It doesn’t count! It was just a kick to the ankle!”

“Yes, in anger. That would be wrath, angel. It’s not that bad, trust me.” Your eyes were glassy now, and he placed a hand over your jaw, calloused pad stroking over the skin of your cheek as he tipped your head upwards. “See? No lightning strikes, no plagues, no punishments. And don’t you just feel so much better now that you’ve done it?”

“A little bit.” You gave in, letting his corruption really take place, and your eyes dropped down to find his, tearing your gaze away from dark and glittering skies. “I’m not a sinner, though. I’m good.”

“Yes, but this day is bad. Nobody is looking today. You liked it, I know you did. Don’t you want to try another sin? Just on this oh-so-evil day, and tomorrow, you can go back to being a good girl. Be bad with me today, angel?” You didn’t reject him, not right at once, and he took that as a good sign, your breath hitching as he stepped a little closer, enough for him to be able to taste the coffee on your breath at the short and sharp puffs you let out. “Have you never wondered? Which one have you always wanted to try, late at night, when it was just you and your thoughts? Is it pride? Gluttony?” He leaned in, enough to brush his lips with your own, your breath hitching in your throat. “Is it lust?”

“Sloth.”

“What?” He snapped back a little, not sure he’d ever really expected a response from you, and he felt a gleeful fire burn through you as you took your first step away from holiness and more towards him, just at the simple admittance, to both yourself and to him. Swallowing thickly, he watched as your mind spun, processing your own words, before you were seeming to settle on them with confidence.

“I have a routine, just as you said. I get up early every morning, and have breakfast, and do some work. I volunteer at a shelter and I do rounds at the hospital even when it’s not my day in, just to pray with those who want some company, but some days I don’t want to. I’m tired, and I want to sleep in. I want to lay in bed until late morning, and fake calling in sick to work just to have a day off, to do anything I want.” You had your own smile now, something brand new flickering through your eyes, and as you looked at him, and he laughed breathlessly at the confession.

“So, do it.”

“I-” You seemed to remember who you were, and where you were, then disappointment took over. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s wrong.” He sighed, hand dropping down to your waist, pulling you closer into him, and he could feel the steady thumb of your racing heart against his chest now, and he wished his own would react at all, but it had been so long since he’d felt anything from the organ that he’d almost forgotten he had it at all.

“If it’s so wrong then why does it feel so right?” You had no response to that, rendered breathless again, and he took his chance, pushing the boundaries a little further. “Give me this one day, I bet we can fit all seven sins into this day, when nobody will notice your sins when mixed with all the demons roaming the surface, and if you don’t like it, then I promise you’ll never see me again, and you’ll never have to think about it.”

“We can stop at any time?”

“Whenever you want.”

You hummed under your breath, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, before caving and offering him a nod. “Big words for someone who only has twenty-one hours left of the day to keep his promises.”

“Well, then, we’d better get you home, angel. You have a big day coming up, and I know just which sin to start with. Let’s get you that late morning you’ve always wanted.” You merely sighed out, contented and happy with the thought, before you were nodding, and turning around to get into your car. Nodding to the passenger side, his grin only grew as he took the offer, climbing in beside you, and settling into the plush leather as the vehicle rumbled to life.

After an exceedingly long sleep in, one where you’d actually then continued to just lie in your bed for upwards of an hour after the daylight had forced away your grogginess, you were left peering out of the window, staring down at the city below from the high-windows of your apartment, the bustling streets with a chaos that didn’t reach all the way up here to the serene quiet, and your lips flicked up at the sides as you remembered the comment that the man who’ already managed to flip your world upside down had made as the two of you had finally made it back to your apartment at almost four in the morning

‘Top floor, huh? Trying to get closer to heaven, or just in it for the workout?’

Turning onto your side, his lips were parted as he slept, slow breaths and a sight rasp following his breath each tie, but not quite a snore. As he was asleep, you had a chance to really observe him. You’d never met a demon, before, you knew the rumours, of course, and some of them were more tame, auras of darkness and a twisted kind of ugly that made you repulsed. Of course, there were also the wilder ones, horns and hooves and rotting flesh, but he was neither.

When you took him in, you decided that he was actually kind of beautiful. Scruff lining his jaw that made him look a little wild - something that was bound to be intentional - and the colour of his eyes flashed through your mind once again even if they were coed now. The colour was burned into your mind, not a glowing red, or all black, but instead the kind of soft blue shade that the ocean looked on a misty morning at the beach, grey clouds overhead that were the calm before the storm.

He was taller than you, much taller, and his frame almost filled your bed, broad shoulders pushing you to one side, further over than you’d ever slept before, even on the large piece of furniture, but he’ insisted that he wasn’t sleeping on ‘no damn couch’, and in your exhaustion and excitement, you’d simply waved a hand as he kicked off his shoes, crawling under the covers beside you. The comfort had been inviting, you’d never experienced such a thing before, but it was oddly peaceful to share a bed with someone else, to feel their warmth creeping over to you as well, the steady thump of a heart or the rise and fall of a chest with every breath, and you hadn't realised how lonely you were until right now.

“Stop fuckin’ starin’ at me.” You huffed, watching as that peaceful expression became a scowl, and he rolled over towards you a little, cracking an eye open to peer up at you. “What?”

“Nothing! You’re just not like what I thought a demon would look like. I’m taking it in.”

He sat up a little, running a hand over his face, before shaking his he'd to try and clear a sleep-muddled brain. “Yeah, well, you’re exactly what I expected an angel to look like.”

“I don’t know whether that’s a compliment or an insult.” Despite the bickering going on between you both, his movements had caused the blankets to lip down, a chill coming in to claim you, and you shuffled a little closer to him, seeking out more of the warmth you’d become addicted to in the last few hours of sleeping beside him.

“It’s neither. Just a statement. Innocent, pretty, that whole weird ethereal vibe that draws you in. That's you.”

“That sounds like a compliment to me.” You all but sang the words, and he rolled his eyes, a grunt leaving him, but he made no move to distance himself from you, and so you knew it was all in false anger.

“I’m revisiting the idea of killing you.” His eyes flicked up to the large clock on the wall, studying it for a second, before turning to look at you incredulously. “I thought we were sleeping in? It's eleven.”

“I normally get up at six! This is late for me, very late.”

He only shrugged, pushing back the covers and standing up, letting you wrap yourself in them a little more, before he was patting down his pockets, searching for something in the jeans that had been abandoned on the bedroom floor. A cardboard box and a lighter, and he was balancing a cigarette between his lips.

“Open a window!”

He only glanced over at you, raising his brows, before stepping across the room to the large panels of glass, clicking off the lock and pushing one open, before flicking on the lighter and igniting the tip. He held it between two careful fingers, a repetitive motion as he brought it up and down from his lips, lips curling each time he expelled the smoke, and it was a weirdly hypnotic scene to watch.

The sound of the traffic and bustle from below was now reaching your ears, muffled and distant but you could still pick it up, the bitter smell of smoke still making it over to you, and your nose scrunched up a little, before you were holding the blanket closer to yourself, and making your way over to stand beside him.

“You’re staring at me like you’ve never seen a cigarette before.”

“I have!” He chuckled a little at your eager enthusiasm, heat rising to your cheeks with your embarrassment, and you shrugged as best you could, from where your hands were pressed to your chest to hold the blankets closed and keep your warmth in. “I’ve just never..”

“Smoked one?”

You only nodded, and he seemed to consider it, taking an extra-long drag, before he was pulling the dwindling stick away from his mouth, flipping it between two fingers, and bringing it to your mouth. He had an expectant look on his face, nothing pressuring or judgemental, simply apprehensive, waiting to see if you’d take the offer before the flickering orange reached his fingers and burned him. The taste was lingering on the air, and you leaned in, lip parted and he grinned, placing it gently on your lower lip, pushing forwards until the edge of his finger was brushing your lips, and he gave you a nod.

Sealing your mouth around it, you took in a deep breath, dragging the air through the device, and the heat that coursed through you was enough to make you pull away and cough, a tingling and burning in your throat and lungs as the smoke clouded out around you, dissipating in the air, and you once again flushed with embarrassment, but the laugh you anticipated hearing from him never came. Instead, he looked almost proud, and you didn’t have a chance to question it, before he was taking the last breath himself, stuffing it on your window frame and ignoring your complaint, before flicking the butt out of the window and closing it once again.

“So, what are we doing with the day now?”

“Hm, well, I promised you all seven. One down, six to go. I’m hungry, so let’s go with gluttony next.” His eyes twinkled a little, and you thought about the sparsely packed fridge you had, just enough simple necessities to get you by and be healthy, nothing that could be deemed even remotely gluttonous, but you were excited to experience it, nonetheless. “There’s a diner near here, we’ll go for breakfast.”

As promised, you are allowed to take even longer, the longest shower you had ever taken in your life, until the entire room was so filled with steam that it felt like a sauna, and you were pruning up. You didn’t even bother to make your bed, instead opting to just lay flat on it for a while, still in your towel as you listened to the demon you were - for some unknown reason - trusting, as he moved about your living room and tinkered with your things.

When you were finally ready, you didn’t care to make the bed, or put on sensible shoes with laces, or even do your hair properly. Instead, you wore a hoodie, and your comfiest flats, and just ran a brush through it, and you’d never felt lazier in your life. You had spent every day doing yourself up to standards and making sure you were being sensible and rational, the proper attire for a day at work, running around a hospital and doing everything you could for everyone else, and nothing for you, and today, you’d texted in saying you were sick and weren’t coming and you’d relaxed, truly relaxed, for what you felt may be the first time in your life.

As promised, you were given a filling breakfast, with more than enough leftovers for a week’s worth of breakfasts, but you didn’t take any of them. At first, it had bothered you, watching as the waitress stared at you both with a little bit of judgement, a little bit of shock, and a little bit of amusement as the man opposite you had listed off dish after dish, until you’d been moved to a bigger table just to accommodate it all. With a bite of it all, you’d worked your way through the dishes, and the drinks, a sip from all of their wide range of coffees and milkshakes, and by the time you’d finished and enough food to feed a small army had been wasted, you were wandering out into the carpark with a wide grin on your face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this full.”

He turned to look at you, beaming as you spoke the words as though they’d been a compliment, and you began to pat your pockets down for your keys, a wave of panic washing over you when you couldn't find them. A moment later, there was a jingling, and you followed the sounds, to find Bucky waving them at you, smirking around the straw in his mouth as he finished his milkshake, tossing the to-go cup in the vague direction of the trashcan.

“When did you even take those? How did you take those?”

“I’m not exactly new to pick-pocketing.” He shrugged, holding open the passenger side door for you, and you hopped up inside of it, grinning as he rounded the car, and it would seem that he was taking it upon himself to drive. Once he was inside of the car and starting it up, his hands were fiddling with the dial for the music, changing your classical music station over to some soft rock, and while it was unfamiliar to you, you tried to settle into it.

“You’re different.”

“We’ve covered this.” He mumbled, fingers tapping against the steering wheel to the song that was playing, and you turned a little more towards him straining against the safety belt across your chest, and not missing the fact that he hadn't bothered with his own.

“No, I just mean, you’re gentlemanly. You held the door, paid for breakfast, didn’t try anything with me last night, even though we shared a bed. It’s admirable.”

“Well, firstly, I didn’t pay for breakfast.” Your face paled a little, realising you’d essentially stolen the meal, but then again, you shouldn't know better. When he told you to go ahead and that he’d been right behind you, you hadn't questioned it, and now, that felt like it was slapping you right in the face. That’s where innocence gets you, you supposed. “Secondly, as I said, we already covered this. You do know there’s, like, tiers for this shit, right?” You only gave a short laugh, turning to look at him a little, and you could already feel your own mischief bubbling up within you.

“You mean the seven circles of hell?”

“Oh, you’re so funny.” He was grumbling now, pretty-coloured eyes rolling in his head, and you continued to snicker away to yourself, but didn’t miss the little flicker of his lips into a smile, that he did his best attempt to disguise as a simple twitch, but you knew better. “No, not the ‘seven circles of hell’.” He imitated your movie as you spoke, a scowl taking over your features at the poor impersonation, but it was quickly washed away. “More like, privileges, I suppose? Those down there because they’re not pure enough to go to all things good and dandy go down below.”

“So, how does it work, then?” He cast you a little glance, studying you for a second, deeming you to have a genuine interest, before one shoulder was raising and falling in a simple shrug.

“Those who are, like, the bad kind of bad get it, well, bad. People who killed for fun, the people who hurt others for their own enjoyment, people who do, y’know..” He didn’t have to say it, your face screwing up as you thought about exactly the sort of people who would count as ‘bad-bad’ and he nodded. “No privileges for them. They just get to suffer.”

It went quiet for a second, and you could practically see the cogs working in your new friend's mind as he tried to sort his thoughts out.

“Then, there are people who did bad things, but it’s not serial-killer bad, y’know?”

“Oh, like tax-fraud and grand theft auto?” He let out a laugh this time, entertainment shining through.

“Technically, yes. I don’t really know how it all divides up. It’s just my job to punish people who need punishing, I don’t ask questions.” That caught your attention, and you perked up slightly, ignoring the fact that you’d pulled into your building’s parking lot, and that the rest of the journey was over, the car coming to a halt, but instead, you were more intrigued about finding out more from the man before you.

“You punish people? The bad people?”

“Yeah. I suppose you can consider today my day off.” He grinned, moving to climb out of the car, and you struggled to follow him, falling into step beside him.

“But, doesn’t that make you good? Getting justice and all?”

“I never said I wasn’t good, angel.” He cast you a look from the sides of his eyes, a little put off by the insinuation you’d made. “I’m created in hell. I don’t really have a soul, or anything that would let me into Heaven. Besides, I do enjoy doing some of the things that would get me cast out.”

“Like what?”

You regretted asking the question from the second you’d asked it, a smirk taking over his features, and he turned to you in the doorway, finger under your chin to hold your face up towards his as he leaned down a little, breath washing over your face as your heart froze in your chest. “Like fucking.”

He watched you, heat crawling up your cheeks as your eyes went even wider, and he grinned, eyes flicking down to your mouth, licking over his lips for just a second, before he was pulling away.

“We can get to that later, though.”

He was ahead of you, long legs making wide steps as he crossed the lobby to the elevator back up to your apartment, and you had to race just to catch up with him. “So, do you have horns?”

“What?”

You slipped in just as the doors to the elevator were closing, and he scowled, clearly having been hoping he’d be able to cut you off, and you almost wished he had, because you'd forgotten just how cramped his large frame made the small box feel. “Y’know, like-” you lifted up each hand to the top of your head, index fingers sticking up as the rest of the fingers curled into a fist. “-horns?”

“Do you have wings?”

You felt a little taken aback by his sneer, lips pursing as you realised he’d taken your joke the wrong way, and you passed by a few floors in silence, before he let out a deep sigh, shoulders slumping slightly.

“No, I don’t have horns.” He looked around the ceiling of the building when you stepped out of the elevator, a hand on your arm to bring you to a halt in the corridor, and he must’ve deemed it safe, before his fidgeting stopped. “I have something, but it’ll freak you out if I show you.”

“I can handle it.”

“I don’t think so, angel.” You huffed, and he continued on, car keys being used to find your house key, the door swinging open, and you followed after, complaints spilling from your lips as you did, and you caught the door as it swung closed, before it had a chance to hit you in the face.

“I can handle it! You're underestimating me!”

“Am I?” He was making himself comfortable once again, already going through the contents of your fridge, pulling back with the carton of orange juice, and you cringed as he popped the lid from it and took a swig right from the bottle. “You’re just a half-angel. You can’t take it.”

Anger boiled within you, and you weren’t sure where this side of him had come from. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

You gaped, jabbing an accusatory finger into his chest as he finished off the orange juice of your own that was supposed to last you all week. “I’ll have you know that I’m a lot stronger than you think. I work in a hospital, okay? I can take whatever twisted shit it is that you have to show me. I can take a lot of things, alright, pal? I think I do pretty well for myself, actually! I mean, if you haven’t noticed, you’re standing in my penthouse apartment, drinking orange juice that I bought, after recklessly driving my fancy car, so screw you. I can handle anything you could throw at me and more, you’re just rude.”

His head tipped to the side, and you let out a ragged breath, not giving him a chance to speak, before you were continuing;

“And, for that matter, I think I’ve done pretty well all around. I have a great job, and I do good work there, and I have spent over two decades avoiding the likes of you, living all on my own, so this little hitch that came in the form of you doesn’t matter, because even after today, I’ll still be doing pretty damn good. ‘Can’t take it’, yeah, well, you can shove your freaky demon thing that you refuse to show me somewhere that the sun doesn’t shine, okay?”

You huffed out, and he crossed his arms over his chest, neutral expression cracking out into a wide grin. “That was a great speech, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, well, thanks.” You were confused, caught off guard by the praise after you were given, your mind still spinning.

“You seem pretty happy with everything you have here. Would you say you take pride in it?” You almost retorted, a witty comeback at the tip of your tongue, before you realised what this had all been about, your shoulders slumping, and you dropped your head into your hands, a weak laugh on your lips and you climbed up onto one of the stools at your kitchen island.

“You got me all worked up into a rage for pride?”

“You’ve achieved some pretty amazing things in your life, and you should be proud of them anyway, even if it’s not for sin.”

You paused, eyes meeting his own, and for a second, the whole misconception of an angel and demon sitting across from one another being the kind of thing that would end worlds seemed to fade away, you were just a regular man and a woman, sharing the moment and sitting together on a lazy morning. He cleared his throat, looking around the room, not for anything particular, just to take it all in, before coming back to look at you, with something else in his eyes this time.

“Well, that’s another one crossed off of the list, anyway. I’d say we’re making pretty good progress.”

You only hummed under your breath, but he seemed to catch onto your hesitation, raising a brow at you. “Kinda’ have an idea about greed.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Do you think, maybe, you could take me there?” He stilled, the hand he’d been using to rearrange the salt and pepper holder in the middle of the marble countertop between you both fell flat.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s hell. It’s literally Hell.” He was adamant on this one, not the same kind of cocky attitude he’d had while fracking pride out of you, but this was more just a complete close down on the situation, and he didn’t even have a flicker of emotion as you glared at him, standing strong in his decision. “You can’t handle it.”

“Seriously?”

“I’m not fucking with you this time, angel.” He stood up, rounding the little countertop to stand before you, and he rested his hips against it, one hand coming up to cup at your face gently. A thumb ran over your lower lip, his eyes tracing his own movements, and you pulled back from him a little, too angry to let him hold you so tenderly, even if something deep within you was craving that kind of contact and affection with him. “Too dangerous.”

“But I want to.” You pouted at him, ignoring the little smile he gave to you as you did, and he forced his gaze back up to meet your own, shaking his head.

“What if you get stuck down there, huh? Time works differently. If it passes midnight, you won’t be able to come back.” The thought did send a flash of fear through you, and he seemed to notice it, thinking that the argument was over. “Besides, down there is where everyone else gets to show their real faces. Where you’d see mine.”

“You could just show me now, and then I wouldn’t have any kind of surprise.”

You didn’t expect him to go for that, to buy it, and you gasped a little as the man before you changed. Soft and fluffy brown hair was longer, brushing around his shoulders in strands that weren’t tied back into a bun, faded blue almost entirely taken over by black irises. His eyes were sunken a little deeper, some teeth a little sharper, jaw a little more defined, giving a much more dangerous look, the kind of intimidating you were sure was done purposefully to scare those who needed to be scared, crafted in the bowels of hell to torture the people who deserved it.

A deep pink and puffy scar ran along from the middle of his cheek and into the stubble on the right hand of his face, emerging further down along his neck. The sleeve of his left arm seemed to strain a little more now, shining metal poking out from underneath, a mixture of battered metal and shining steel, metal digits forming a fist as you stared down at the appendage.

Reaching a hand out towards him, he huffed, pulling it away from you, leaning the entire left side of his body out of your reach. “What are you doing?”

You ignored him, taking the hand in both of your own, and the coolness of it sent shocks along your nerves, goosebumps rising on your skin. He let you lift it, inspecting each finger carefully, gears shifting under your touch each time a finger moved, and he sighed as you lifted the hand, resting it over your cheek again, the same way he’d had it only moments ago, when it had been under the illusion of flesh and blood. “You still don’t scare me, Bucky.”

He let out a laugh, a breathless one, before he was closing the distance between the two of you, lips meeting your own, and a small squeak left you as his mouth pressed to your own carefully. It was all entirely new to you, feeling his other hand find your waist, nails scratching lightly at your skin through the material of your shirt, before you were placing your own hands on his shoulders, grasping at his shirt as you moved your mouth with his own.

It was slightly awkward, and slow, and you could feel yourself fumbling, but as your eyes slipped closed and you matched his rhythm, you found everything within yourself slipping away. You hadn't quite realised what it would be like, to have another person pressed up so close to you, and to know how it felt when their eyelashes tickled your cheeks the way his were know, that feelings within your stomach like fireworks were going off was making you feel lightheaded, gasps for breath each time he pulled back, twisting his head, noses bumping, before softly swollen lips were finding you once again.

It was of their own accord that your hands slipped from his shoulders to his neck, one travelling even further into his hair, gripping tightly as you pushed up into him, almost falling from your chair as your legs went weak as you tried to stand a little, and he turned you around, lower back pressing into the cool marble for support, before a low growl sounded out. It reverberated along your entire body, and you trembled a little under his hold, teeth dragged over your lower lip, before he was pulling away.

You were chasing after him, feeling his grip loosen on you and you whined, catching his lips again in a little kiss, a chuckle breaking it as he backed away enough to rest his forehead on your own.

“Don’t be greedy. I’ll kiss you again, later.”

“Or, you could kiss me now?” You teased, letting him lift you up to sitting on the countertop, and he wrapped your legs around his waist, thumb smoothing over your cheek as he felt that same embarrassed warmth flood your skin. He pressed a kiss to the underside of your jaw, using his nose to tilt your head back, before he was nipping lightly about the pulse point along your neck, and you weren’t in control of the sound that left you as he did, or the way your thighs tightened around his waist.

“I could, but, I thought you wanted to go to Hell.”

“I do.” You mumbled, before realising fully what he’d said, and you pulled him back by a handful of his shirt between his shoulder blades, darkened eyes finding yours in a curious gaze. “I do. Are you serious?”

“You have to promise to stay by my side.” You nodded, vehemently, a wide smile taking up on your face. “You also have to wear a watch.”

“I thought time worked differently?” You teased, and he rolled his eyes, taking your chin between his thumb and a metal forefinger, cutting off your laughs with a short kiss.

“It does, that’s the whole point. We need to know when to get you home.”

You only nodded, dropping down and disappearing, searching through your drawers and cabinets until you found the device you were looking for, checking its display against the wall clock on your bedroom wall, and thanking your lucky stars that it still displayed the correct time. You were attaching it to your wrist and waving it at him proudly as you reemerged, and he held his hand out for you.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Well, you only live once, right?” He huffed, fixing you with a pointed stare, and you burst out in a series of little laughs at your own words. “Well, some of us only live once, anyway.” He took your hand in his, barely letting you swipe up your keys before you were following him out of the door and back towards the stairs, stumbling over your own feet slightly. “Am I going to have to die for us to get there?”

“What? No. Why would you think that?” The crackling in his voice was amusement, and you shrugged, letting him guide you through the door that said ‘staff only’, and at this point, you’d stopped even questioning his actions.

“Well, I don’t exactly see a lot of portals to hell on my day-to-day travels.”

“It’s like a door that only demons can open. On this day, of all days. Sorta’ like a magnet, you just think about it, and it pulls you to where you're supposed to be.” It wasn’t exactly a description that set you at ease, and as you made it to the top of the staircase he was pulling you up, you were met with the sight of the sprawling skyline, the sounds of a busy city filled with people who were none the wiser to your current situation going about their mundane lives below, and even after today, you know you’d never be that same mundane person again.

Stepping out onto the roof, you were in awe, never having ventured up and gotten to appreciate it, and while your apartment was high up and the view was the same, it was more the experience that was leaving you speechless.

“Are you ready?”

When you followed the sound of his voice, he was standing on the edge of the building, hand held out to you once again, and you weren’t sure when you’d ever slipped away from him. You wandered over, nausea sweeping across you as you leaned over the edge to look down, the people on the streets below looking more like specks in the distance, and you pulled back rapidly. “To jump off the roof? That’s seriously the way to go?”

“It’s the fun way.”

You scoffed, knowing he was just doing it to mess with you, and he took your hands in his, guiding your gaze back up to his face. Wrapping your arms around his neck, and you held on tightly, feeling him grip your waist, pulling you in close.

“Just trust me, angel.”

For whatever reason, you did. You had full faith in a man who’d you’d only known for twelve hours, feeling him inch the two of you towards the edge, up onto the ledge, until you were precariously balanced, and your heart was threatening to beat right out of your chest. Pressing your face into his neck, his grip on you became bruising, and then you were falling.

The floor fell away, and you were racing downwards, hair whipping around your face as your eyes squeezed shut, that floating feeling becoming more like you were being dragged down. It was cold, biting cold, and utterly terrifying, and then it all just stopped. There was ground beneath your feet again, blood wasn’t pounding in your ears as you found yourself upright once again, and you were only dizzy from the way you’d held your breath, not from tumbling such a distance, and you forced yourself to exhale, slowly.

When you pulled away from him, the hand stroking soothingly up and down your back then stopped, and he lifted it to smooth down your hair instead. Whereas in your apartment, he’d seemed out of place and daunting in his own skin, now, he seemed to fit in perfectly. Shadows cast across his face made his features stand out, strong and bold, and instead of being scared you felt protected by his presence. It wasn’t nearly as loud as you’d expected it to be, and it was the exact opposite of what you’d pictured.

Instead of burning pits of fire and tortured screams, it was much like what Earth was, buildings and pathways and doors along each one, a reflection of the home you’d known so well, just with a little more destruction. He seemed to already know exactly what you were thinking, smirking his eyes a little, but you just accepted it, taking it all in. There was a bump against your lower leg, something soft that made you jump, and the man holding you chuckled. Turning, you watched a little cat run away. It had a torn ear and was missing an eye when it looked back at you, before it was dating through an open door before it closed, and you gaped a little as you lost sight of the orange-furred little critter.

“That was a cat.”

“Well, yes.” He deadpanned, hissing at the way you pinched his arm roughly for his words, and he mumbled under his breath about being careful before you ‘inadvertently achieved wrath’. “Haven’t you ever heard about cats being the guardians of the underworld?”

“In, like, Egyptian mythology, maybe.”

“Yeah, well, all myths and fables come from somewhere, right? Everything you’ve heard is just one interpretation of the same thing. Like versions of a story.” He offered, and you felt like every answer you got became all the more confusing, like you had no real idea about the world you’d been living in at all, until now. “C’mon. We have much to do, and little time.”

“What are we going to do?”

“You wanted to come here, that’s your choice.” He shrugged, and you gave him a blank look, as though you had any idea about what you were supposed to be doing. He seemed to pick up on it, a smile on his lips, before he was slinging an arm over your shoulders, and beginning to guide you away towards a door only a few down from one that you’d seen that little orange cat disappear through. When you got into the other side, you were in the hospital, the time seeming to move differently, everything around you flying by at super speed. “What’s the worst thing you ever witnessed in the hospital?”

“What?”

“The west thing. One of your patients, something you remember because it was just downright evil.” It took you a moment, but the worst one came to mind, and you felt sad witnessing it all over again.

“There was this man in here, once. Both he and the kid across from me were my patients. The kid was a car crash victim, both parents died, he was on life support, we were doing everything we could. If the kid died, he would have been the organ donor. The man smothered the kid in his sleep, we didn’t realise until the autopsy was done, by which point the guy had fled.” You shrugged, and he asked for the date, to which you mumbled, that day burned into your mind to last forever.

With a wave of his hand, that same speed that had been dizzying to watch as it moved like a movie on fast-forward was now frozen completely, and with a click, there was an entirely new setting.

Easter decorations, all around the hospital, Mercedes at the reception desk still had her hair dyed blue instead of her usual fiery red, the colour had taken a good couple of years to totally grow out; somehow, he’d taken you right back to the night that it had happened. Rainy, filled with clouds, water swilling around your car, and there was a loud storm outside. You remembered because it felt fitting, and it almost felt comforting when you’d cried in your car about it all before being able to drive home that night.

“Which room?”

“I, um, room three-oh-four.” You guided him through the halls, completely in awe of the way it resembled your place of work so clearly, and yet nobody could see it at all. You could see yourself, a younger version, standing behind the nurse's station and covering your yawn with your hand, a file in your hand as you tried to focus on it, and it was shocking to see it from such a different angle. You froze up a little as you approached the room, the two opposites, and you felt your heart crack a little at seeing that little boy alive once again, even if it was just barely. “That’s the guy.”

He followed the direction of your finger, a head of black hair in the bed across, idling himself on his phone, and Bucky stepped into the room, a sneer on his lips. Glancing at the name across the chart, he couldn't quite see it, but you already knew it anyway.

“Brock Rumlow.”

“Sounds like an asshole kinda’ name, already.” You could only nod, and just like that, Bucky was moving the timeline forwards again. Day to turned to night outside, you watched as he disappeared for a second, only to reappear a moment later, and then there was night becoming day, and he was taken to surgery, and the day flew by, bodies flying in and out, the flash of your own floral-patterned dress as you move in and out throughout the day, and then, a week later, he was leaving. It slowed, you watched as he went, following him right out of the hospital and into a cab, and he was none the wiser as in this turn of events, you and Bucky joined him.

It went by again, years flying back, Bucky’s eyes moving as he somehow seemed to see and understand every moment, before suddenly, it was all stopping. You were out of the cab, but when you left it, it was a firetruck instead. The building before you was burning, thick plumes of smoke curling up into the air, windows were broken as tall flames curled up and roared into the sky. Sirens were wailing, and water was spraying, and you could feel the heat even from here.

“Building fire.”

“Hm?” You twisted to look at him, and the demon beside you motioned up to the building.

“That’s how the universe got even with Brock Rumlow. He stole organs from a child, and he got trapped inside his apartment. He’s down here.” You felt your breath get stuck in your throat as he said those words, before you were finding his hand, gripping tightly with both, and his fingers curled back around your hand, before he was sighing, loudly. “Do you want to see him now?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, everything around you seeming to go into slow motion as he dulled the sounds, before you were pressing yourself into him a little more, feeling his lips brush against your temple as you let out a breathless laugh.

“I’ve thought so much about what I would do if I ever saw him again. Give him a piece of my mind, tell him how bad of a person he is, make him feel bad. Now, though, I’m not all that sure I could control myself.”

“Who says you have to?” You peered up at him, eyes wide, and he shrugged, cupping your face with both hands as he watched panic begin to take over you. “He’s a child killer, a selfish prick, he deserves everything he gets down here. This is a place for punishment, and maybe it’ll make you feel better.”

“Okay.”

He took your hand, the closest door to the two of you opening back up, and just like that, you were back in the stone hallways, crossing over to a wooden door, bolted from the outside, and as his hands wrapped around the handle, it changed, simplistic designs shifting to that of one you’d expect to see on a little farm cottage, before he was opening it up and ushering you inside.

“Where are we?”

“His Hell-scape.” The door scratched against cobblestones as it was pushed shut behind you. “Germany, early nineteen forties, the precipice of modern medicine. It’s cold, and he’s fled from the war, he’s taking shelter in a little farm cottage. He needs surgery, and you’re about to perform it. There’s a kid, who could donate the blood, he’s sitting over there by the fireplace.”

Just as he said that, the door swung open once again, and there he was, stumbling inside as blood seeped between his fingers, and just like that, for the first-ever time in one of these scenarios, he was looking you dead in the eyes. He begged for help, and the little boy by the fireplace looked up, wide eyes and he was on his feet, dashing over to you. He cleared the table, helping the man to lie down, like the good little soul he was, and you ushered him away upstairs. With a knife from the kitchen, you sliced open the front of his shirt, watching as blood oozed out of several bullet wounds across his front.

Blood spewed out, and for a second, guilt washed over you as you hesitated in your motions to save him, but then you were remembering everything he’d done, and you could feel the presence of Bucky behind you, the scene you’d relieved as you watched the evil take place, and you felt no regret as you pushed a finger against one of the wounds. Hard metal met your finger, blood-curdling screams from him on the table as you pushed it even deeper, before pulling away, and making sure that he was looking you in the eyes as he did.

You weren’t sure if he was able to recognise you, or whether he was completely engrossed inside of this illusion, but you swore you saw something pass over his eyes, seconds before he was passing out. Little feet were coming down the stairs, and the boy was there again, watching rivers of blood dripping into puddles as they ran from the tabletop, a teddy tucked safely in his arms as he looked up to you again.

“Are we going to save his life?”

“No.” You hummed, wiping your hands on a rag, and it was shockingly different to see the way the boy whose eye colour you’d never seen before looked, how young he really was, and you took him by the hand as you guided him up the stairs. Tucking him in and brushing the hair back out of his face, you pressed a kiss to his forehead, and he fell asleep before your eyes, chest rising and falling of its own accord. It wasn’t real, you felt it slipping away under your fingers, and when you made it back down the stairs, the man on the table was dead, hand hanging limp, and it all slipped away.

Darkness filled the room, the features melted away, and he guided you back to the corridors, tears sliding down your cheeks as you left it all behind.

There was concern on his face when he looked at you, but you didn’t care, because you were pulling him in by a fistful of his shirt in order to press desperate and needy kisses to his lips. He reciprocated, humming happily as his hands found your hips, smoothing around towards your back, one warm and one cold as they pressed to you, and your wet cheeks pressed to his, gasping breaths as you sought out comfort in his touch.

“Are you okay?

“I’ve never felt like this before.” He pulled back, whining a little when you kept pressing up into him, and he pushed you back a little bit, ignoring your complaints. “It’s a rush, and it felt bad but only for a second, before it felt right. Not to hurt someone else, but to serve justice. I love saving lives, I do, but that felt incredible. It felt like closure.”

“You officially checked off wrath, angel.”

“I don’t think you can call me that anymore.” You teased, and he shook his head, pulling you in close enough to brush his lips against your own. It was a fleeting kiss, something that left you desperately craving more as you burned up from the inside out.

“You’re always gonna’ be my little Halloween angel.” He grinned, trying to wipe your cheeks dry.

“I think I’m checking off envy, too.” He beamed, raising his brows in silent questioning, and you gave him a lame shrug of your shoulders in response. “I just don’t think I could go back to my regular life and be happy now, knowing there’s so much more that I could be experiencing. My job won’t be fulfilling when I know how much better it would be to do yours, and be here. I hate that you don’t worry about anything, that you haven't spent your whole life worrying if you're good enough to get into somewhere only to spend the rest of eternity keeping up those standards. I wouldn’t have to be anyone but my true self here, and now, I’m not even sure if I know who that is.”

“You could find out, though.”

“Also, there’s a girl over there who keeps looking at you and I don’t like it.” He glanced over his shoulder, noting the pretty demon who was waving at him, tight curls and red lipstick and she looked like she was straight out of the world war’s era, but then again, everybody down here seemed to be fixed in some kind of time period or another.

“Envy doesn’t suit you, angel. You much more suit pride.”

His fingertips pressed into your sides a little, tickling you lightly, and you grinned, mind leaving her as you came crashing back into a world where only you and he existed. Dipping down, his nose brushed with yours, and you closed the gap, sighing out happily when you felt the rough prickles of his beard under your palm, the other hand sliding down to rest on his chest.

The tip of a tongue traced your lower lip, and you gasped at the feeling, before his tongue was pressing through the parting and into your mouth, a needy noise slipping from you before you could control it, leaving you feeling like you were floating within the clouds as you fell even further into him. You were pressed up to him now, bodies colliding, and what was once slow and sensual suddenly felt like it was rushed and frantic. Mouths meshing, growls and whines shared between you both and you were ruining the neat bun in his hair as your hands were pushed into his mouth.

His hands were exploring too, further than they’d ever been, one solid and one fleshy and then there was a warm palm gripping tightly at your ass, squeezing the flesh there roughly, and you keened up into him even further. Metal lifted you up, your legs fastening around his waist automatically, and you could feel him moving as you gripped onto him roughly. One hand digging nails into his shoulder as the other tugged on a fistful of his hair, a ragged moan leaving his lips as the two of you stumbled through the nearest doorway. Bedsheets found your back, and you were breathing clearly again as a hot mouth travelled along your jaw.

Stinging skin, drags of his teeth over heated flesh, and you were living in a world you’d never been in before as you felt those same hands now dip underneath your shirt, beginning to push it up as he adventured further.

“Where are we?” You mumbled, eyes fixed on the low hanging lighting extension from the ceiling, and he pulled back from the mark he was working to leave on your collarbone, an incredulous look on his face as he peered up at you. Swollen and shiny lips, half-lidded eyes, and a slight shine to his skin that paired with his messy hair made him look even more sinful than he usually did.

“My, uh, my room?” You sat up a little more to take it in, and he leaned back from where he was balanced over you, letting you take it all in.

“How convenient that all the doors you need are so close together.” He grinned, shaking his head in a way that made you think you were missing something, and he pulled you to sit up a little more, the haze over you both clearing slightly.

“Sweetheart, most of the doors work like the entrances, you just have to think about where you’re going, and you go there.”

It was like your world was clearing up, and as he knelt back, you moved forwards enough to settle into his lap, a soft giggle leaving you when you felt his hands come down to grip at your ass to keep you balanced, a smirk on his face as you did. “I was kinda’ expecting, like, bones on the wall, dungeons, dark, flickering torches, the whole shebang. I’m almost disappointed that it looks like a normal bedroom.”

“You have a bad habit of believing stereotypes.” He muttered, leaning in again to take your lower lip between his teeth, tugging on it lightly, and you keened up into him, finding the mattress either side of you dipping a little as he held himself up over you. “And I thought that after everything we’d done today, you’d have reconsidered it all.”

“Well, after all we’ve done today, I still have one sin left to complete.”

He grinned, nodding his head before his mouth was closing over your own. With one warm hand gently pushing up the edge of your shirt, you let him take it, sitting up just enough to let him peel the material from your body, before he was kissing along your neck, licking and sucking his way along the flesh until it was stained with blotchy red marks that would blossom into purple bruises sooner or later.

Then, as his fingers brushed over the delicate skin of your ribs, he was letting out a breathy laugh, pulling away once his lips were grazing the edge of your bra.

“Angel, I gotta’ be honest with you. I really like you, I do, but this bra is awful.”

You looked down at yourself, head clearing for just a second, before you were groaning, shaking your head as you looked down at the garment strapped to your body. “I don’t own any other bras! They’re practical, they support me at work. I’ve never really had a reason to own fancy underwear."

You were popped up on your elbows, and he grinned wickedly, metal hand undoing the catch with a simple flick of his fingers, and then it was falling loose. “Bet you’re wearing cute little white cotton panties, too, huh?”

You could only nod, feeling a blush beginning to climb onto your cheekbones, and it was a feeling you were rapidly growing familiar with while being in his presence.

“You drive me insane, in all your innocence. Am I the first person to get near your sweet little cunt? Tell me I am, angel.”

“You are.” You were breathless, everything from the way his lips curled around the words, to the sound of his voice, right to the way his eyes raked over you in a way that could only be described as predatorily, made your body burst out in flames, craving something you didn’t even know, but you just knew you needed him to keep going, to continue with whatever it was he was doing, because he had you floating on Cloud Nine.

“I’m gonna’ take such good care of you, I promise.” As he pulled the material away from your chest, that heat was spreading down, along your neck, and yet you didn't feel anything but powerful under his gaze. You’d never expected to have this kind of life, after hearing from your mother what had happened to your father for his sins, you were determined not to follow that path, but now, you wanted it all. You didn’t care about standards and responsibilities, you just wanted to drown in the way his tongue was dragging along your stomach as he left wet kisses along your skin, until he was mouthing at the place just above your jeans, soft skin teased with lips and teeth, until he was popping the button on your jeans carefully.

He took it all, stripping you down and taking his time, mumbling praises into your skin until there was nothing else clad on you, except for the slip of cotton over your core, and he was kneeling back at the end of the bed, two large hands palming at your thighs, and he licked over his lip, dragging the lower between his teeth roughly.

“Fucking hell, angel, you’re drippin’.” A single digit, lifting to brush over your covered folds, and as you were touched so intimately, you couldn't help the gasp that slipped from you. “Ruining your panties, sweetheart, soaking right through ‘em.”

“Please.”

He looked up as you whispered the words, eyes already blown out dark with lust, the grey-blue colour you so deeply adored was almost entirely gone, and it was like the tension in the room shot up even further. “Do you even know what you’re asking for, angel, or do you just want more?”

There was a teasing undertone laced in his voice, and you would’ve commented on it, snapped back at him for his taunt, had it not been for the way he lifted that finger up, knuckle brushing over the pulsing bud between your legs, and then he was circling it, a dull pressure applied, and your hips left the bed as your back arched. “That! I want more of that.”

“So fucking pretty, all needy and beggin’ for me, already.” He switched his positions, instead of a knuckle, it was the flat of a finger, and you were already shaking under his touch as your entire body lit up with fireworks. “Are you sure you want to do this? Once we do, there’s no going back. You don’t want to save yourself for someone special?”

“I’m already with someone special.”

His motions paused, before a slightly bashful smile took over his face, and you giggled upon looking at him, sitting up enough to take his face in your hands, moaning against his lips as he picked his movements back up, just to drive you crazy. “You sweet-talkin’ me, angel?”

“Nobody would ever believe me if I could make a demon blush.”

“Just something about you. Don’t know what it is, but you drive me crazy.” He whispered, closing the distance as you continued to test him, a sloppy kiss that was more collisions of lips and tongue, and you could barely keep up. You were so focused on the way it felt to be utterly surrounded by every inch of him that you didn’t feel him move until the barrier of fabric was gone, tearing meeting your ears and then there was nothing between you both, a calloused finger gathering the wetness you’d built up, slick on his finger, and your breath hitched as the tip of that same warm digit traced your entrance.

Anticipation, anxiety, and slight fear washed over you, and he seemed to sense it, from the way that you tensed up, before he was pushing you back down to lay in the bedding, body pressed to your own. You were tugging at the shirt on his shoulders, whining a little, before he let you pull it up, holding himself up long enough for you to strip it away.

“Let me open you up, okay? Get you ready, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Stealing a final kiss, he distracted you, the way a finger slipped inside was something entirely new, your closed eyes snapping open again, and he let out a long and deep sound into your mouth, feeling every inch of your walls clamp up around his intruding finger, wet and velvet and enticing. He pumped it slowly, a wince on your face at the pull at your entrance, before you forced yourself to take a deep breath, focusing instead on the way his lips felt on your skin, and the way it felt when your bare flesh was gliding over his.

Erotic, sweat built up that made your skin stick against his in the most arousing way, the dips between his muscles shining, making everything about him stand out even more prominently, and you had never allowed yourself to consider a man as particularly attractive before, but now you were seeing through a whole new gaze, you were certain it couldn't get much better than him. Sharp jaw, pretty features, broad shoulders and a mouth to give up all innocence for, you couldn't even blame yourself for giving everything up to him.

There was a curling of his finger, the blunt nail dragging over your walls, and a shudder ran along your entire body as he did, a cry of his name leaving your lips, and suddenly, the final puzzle seemed to click into place. There was something romantic about offering yourself up to someone like this, something incredibly intimate about the way it felt to let yours be this vulnerable under someone else’s gaze, and you had never felt anything like this in your entire life.

A twisting in your lower belly, muscles clenching, and then another sting, a second finger sliding into you with ease as you all but dripped for him, the pain far more tolerable and even a little bit pleasurable this time around, before you were stretched around two thick fingers, barely processing the words he was offering to you, because your vision was going fuzzy and you felt like you’d left all forms of reality that you’d ever known.

Hands clenched in the sheets, tugging them roughly as you stiffened, and a soothingly cold hand pressed down on your chest, you hadn't realised your heart was racing and you were dragging in desperate breaths until the weight of the limb forced you to calm down. Bringing a hand up, you clung to him, frantic for some kind of grounding connection as you felt the rest of your inhibitions slip away. It felt like you were breaking down that final gate, like you were bursting from a cage, freedom and liberation and a feeling you’d never had before but were already addicted to the taste of.

Your throat stung, eyes burning from unshed tears, before he was pulling those fingers from you, an obscene slurping finding your ears, and you weren’t sure when your eyes had rolled back, or when your body had left the bedding, but when you collapsed back down into the soft cushions, with deep and raspy breaths, and forced your eyes open, he was licking crudely at his fingers, watching you carefully, something between caring and cocky stitched into his features.

“What just happened?”

“You just had your first orgasm, baby. How’d it feel?” He wiggled his brows, a smile that made you laugh, and you were still trembling, forcing yourself to relax as you melted into the blankets and untangled your fingers, surprised you hadn't ripped them entirely.

“I loved it.”

“Good.” The tip of his nose bumped against your own, and yet he never granted you a kiss, swerving away just long enough to settle himself between your thighs. “So much I want to do to you, so little time.”

He tutted to himself, and the denim of his jeans brushed over your sensitive centre as he dipped his head down. You weren’t sure where to focus, whether you were meant to fix your attention on the way his lips seal around one perky bud of a nipple, or the way you were meeting him roll for roll as you ruined the front of his jeans, material growing damp with your juices as you pleasured yourself, broken noises let out into the air as he abused your chest, switching between your breasts until he was satisfied with the way he’d left your skin spit-slick and shining.

A hand in his hair, you dared to take control, sick of waiting, and just wanting to get to the main event, what you did now know, and you needed it more than you’d ever needed anything in your entire life. You hadn't felt truly alive, or comfortable in your own body, until this moment, as he brought you to life and made you see stars, gave you things you’d never even known existed.

“Bucky, please. I can’t take waiting any longer.”

“Okay, angel. I got you, I know what you need.” He managed to peel himself away, a cool breeze sweeping in where he’d once been before he was stripping himself down of the remaining garments covering his body, and you felt your mouth go dry as he was finally revealed to you. He may have been crafted in hell, the epitome of sin and debauchery, and you weren’t surprised that so many people gave up on their purity to give in to lust, because you were just as weak as the rest of them as you looked at him.

Toned and tanned flesh, tapering down from broad shoulders to a narrow waist, defined muscles, sinewy skin and prominent veins, before a hard and leaking cock as bobbing in the air before you. He seemed to know you were admiring him, taking in every detail and committing it to memory, because he flexed a little, a look on his face that you were oh-so-familiar with, before you were reaching out to him.

He was happy to crawl into your arms, lifting your legs onto his waist, sticky pre-cum smearing across your thigh, before he was dipping into your wetness, gathering it up as he rocked his length against your folds, shared breath turning to pants as his forehead rested to your own. “Before we do this, I just wanted to say something.”

“Hm, don’t tell me you secretly have a tail that only comes out when you cum.”

He shook, his entire body wracked by the laugh that he let out, and he pulled back far enough that you could see the sparkle in his eyes, before he was shaking his head, a series of pecks pressed to your lips between muffled giggled from the pair of you, until you managed to calm down. “No, sorry to ruin another one of your predetermined opinions on demons.”

“I’ll get over it.”

He delivered a particularly sharp thrust, the tip of his cock bumping your clit, making your jerk in his hold, and you encouraged him on quickly, the scrape of your nails along his back making him hiss out. “I wanted to say that I haven’t felt like this in centuries, you’ve flipped your whole world upside down in just twenty-four hours. I wanted you to know that this is special, between me and you, just so you don’t regret it in a few days, when you think about us, when you're back home in your fancy apartment and living your normal life.”

“I’ve never felt more alive than when I’m with you.”

He took the compliment, not bothering to reply, but leaning in to take your lips with his own in a passionate kiss, as another hand slipped between your bodies to line himself up, before he was inching into you, taking his time and making sure not to hurt you. When he saw your face screw up, his hand caught yours, fingers weaving together and pressing back into the mattress, confirming that he was with you, an apology for the pain and a promise that it would go away without him even having to speak.

As his hips finally came to press to your own, you were holding back a sob, the wide girth and length he had were far more than his fingers had been, and while you’d stretched to accommodate him, it was still a new struggle, and you let out a low breath, feeling the soft presses of pecks along your cheeks and jaw, as he waited patiently. There was tension in his body, from top to bottom, feeling his muscles clench under your hands, and you rolled your hips experimentally.

A shot of pain, a whimper from your lips, but you weren't sure if that sound came from the sharp pain or the heated pleasure, a burst of it from within you, and your jaw dropped, and he let out a ragged sound, face pressed into your neck. “Holy shit, angel, you’re squeezin’ me like a fucking vice, tightest damn pussy I’ve ever known. Perfect, just like the rest of you.”

You grinned, hating the way that his filthy words could slide right into something endearingly sweet that had your stomach flipping and your heart skipping beats, all within in a split-second. “You can move now, it’s okay.”

He only gave a short nod, before he was doing as you offered, pulling back just enough to press back into you, a shallow thrust that didn’t offer much, drawn-out and delicate, but then there was another, stronger and faster, and he moved slowly, inch by inch each time, until he was pulling himself from you almost completely, and sinking back into your sodden heat.

“Oh, fuck.”

He bit down on your shoulder as you swore, cursing himself under his breath, tongue lapping over the spot. When he raised his head, there were wisps of brown hair plastered to his forehead, messy and tangled and you thought he looked stunning this way. Pink flushed cheeks, wide eyes, glistening skin, it was almost angelic, and there were certainly bits of him that made you question his allegiance, but then again, in the span of just one day, he’d made you question absolutely everything you ever knew.

Deep and fast thrusts, and you could feel every throb, every drag of him within you, each time he pulled away just to sheath himself within you once again, and you could feel your own throat stinging with the continuous loops of noises that you were letting out for him. He shifted, slowing for just a second, before one of your legs was being hiked up from his waist to his shoulder, and then, it was getting even better.

You thought he’d shown you the height of pleasure, that the feeling of being connected with him in such a way was all that it could be, but then he was reaching all new depth that made you scream. You couldn't take it, the continuous pounding on that little patch that made everything go blank. Stars in your eyes, white noise that barely let through the sounds of his loud moans and sobs of pleasure, but you could feel him coming undone atop of you, the way his pace faltered and his arm gave way, pressing you into the bed as he lost all semblance of self-control.

He was fucking into you without mercy, and you knew you’d be sore in the morning but right now you needed more. Your heel was digging into his lower back as you came unravelled once again, a peak crashing over you that was ten times stronger than the first had been and you were clinging to him like he was your only lifeline. Fingertips were digging into his flesh, nails raking red welts into his skin and he was growling and grunting, before gripping you with a hold so tight it was bruising, and a whole new kind of warmth washed over you.

His heavy-weight collapsing onto you was enough to warm you from the outside, but then he was spilling deep within you, a broken sound that tailed off at the end as his voice cracked, and you decided that in that exact moment, if you never got to experience anything this good ever again, you’d always cherish exactly how it felt to be marked and claimed as his, to know that no matter what, a little piece of your heart and soul would always belong to him, and him to you.

When he finally stopped moving, he didn’t pull out, but instead, rolled the two of you over until you were cushioned against his chest, and cheek pressed over the racing heart under his chest, and you grinned to yourself at knowing that you could make his heart do that, the organ he hadn't felt used in so long was now in overdrive under his ribs, and it was all for you. It wasn’t love, it couldn't be, it had only been a day; infatuation, curiosity, adoration, a range of emotions flooded through you but it was the possibility of something entirely new, and you thought it was perfect.

Clearly, he was feeling it too, because when you finally moved away from him, his eyes opened again, a weak sound of protest coming from him as you removed yourself from his body, laying down beside him, and sitting up a little, offering him a smile as he watched you. “Don’t leave yet. Stay with me a few more minutes.”

“I’m not going anywhere just yet, don’t you worry.” He was put at ease by that, you could see it from the way his shoulders slumped, and the breath he let out, before his arms were circling your waist and he was collapsing down against you.

You may never get into the version of ‘Heaven’ you’d always believed you were destined for, but this was more than that, it was everything you never knew you needed. Bringing a hand up to his hair, you wove your fingers into the damp strands, and he rumbled blissfully at the feeling, nuzzling further into your body as he did.

The rough stubble on his cheeks tickled you, made you want to shove him away and laugh out loud, but you wanted to hold him and comfort him more, the man overwhelmingly clingy after being intimate, and you treasured it. You had no experience to compare anything to, he was the master here, and you were learning everything, and you were sure to him that was like learning to walk while he was running marathons and doing hurdles, but he was patient and kind, and it was just another thing you’d assumed wrong about him.

Twenty-four hours ago you were someone completely different. Pure, and innocent, and completely unaware of the world you were a part of, and now, you never wanted to go back. He’d made you a promise that everything could be forgotten by midnight if you didn’t like it, but you wanted these memories and these moments burned into your mind forever, never to be taken away from you, so you’d always live in the time that your life changed for the better.

“So, I get it now.”

“Get what, sweetheart?” His words were given to you in a whisper, from where his cheek was pressed to your stomach, and you continued his hair, enjoying the happy rumble he let out as you did. The watch on your wrist showed the time, and you watched as he checked it, letting out a disgruntled little huff, before he was squeezing you a little tighter once again.

“Lust. Why so many people give in to it. That was incredible.”

“It only gets better. Didn’t want to break you on your first time, though.” He pressed a kiss to your skin, snickering as you scoffed at his words, and then he was pulling away far enough to sit up. You could see the scarring along his left shoulder so much clearer now, metal meeting flesh, bound with red scarring that marred beautiful golden skin, and yet his imperfections only made him seem even more perfect to you. “Maybe next year we’ll explore some more.”

“Next year?”

“Halloween is almost over, sweetheart.” You let him crawl further up your body, searching for your lips with his own until he wound his way home, and you flopped back into the pillows, taking him with you, breathless laughs expelled into both mouths until he was pulling away. “Mhm, no. When you kiss me like that, we get carried away.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Well, I like to think I can hold out, and I don’t think we could get everything I want to do to you done within six minutes.” He sighed dramatically, before rolling off of you and onto the bed beside you.

“What if we had more than six minutes?” He twisted his head studying you for a minute, before his lips were parting, and he was pulling your hands from where you were picking at the loose threads on the bedsheets, and he was bringing your knuckles to his mouth, gentle kisses pressed to them.

“Don’t speak in riddles, we don’t have the time for that.”

“What if I stayed?”

He sat up a little more, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “You know if you stay, this is the only place you’ll ever end up. Even if you left next year, even if you decided not to be here anymore, while you still have your life. You’ll never get into Heaven. You only have three minutes to make a decision that’ll decide the rest of your life.”

“I think I’ve already made it.” Something eerily similar to hope flickering between your eyes, and you only gave him a sweet grin, before his face was cracking open in a wide beam, and he was lunging at you again. “What did Heaven ever do for me anyway? I think I’d much rather stay and be a sinner here with you.”

He bumped the tip of his nose against yours, before moving down to press a sweet kiss to your lips, pausing for long enough to speak; “Maybe, but you’ll always be my angel.”

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prose-for-hire · 3 years

Text

How ats characters would celebrate their s/o’s Birthday:

Characters include: Angel; Spike; Cordelia; Wesley; Fred; Lorne; Gunn; Doyle; Lindsey; Drusilla and Darla

A/N: Again, totally self-indulgent for my Birthday lol! They’re fluffy !! Hope you guys enjoy them, you can save them for your Birthdays or just enjoy them today !! 🖤💖

Angel:

- Money is no object

- Will ask what you wanna do

- Could literally be anything at all

- He has enough disposable income that you feasibly could do anything

- You insist that all you want is him though

- Not his money, just him

- You adore him

- And this assurance absolutely makes him melt

- All he ever wants is for you to be happy

- But he insists that you should mark the occasion

- So you suggest a party

- Just a small gathering with the team and some good music

- He grins, pressing a kiss to your lips

- He’s actually really excited

- He can get awkward at parties (and just in general)

- But he does enjoy them somewhat

- Especially since he began dating you

- Everything’s better with you

- And that’s why he wanted to celebrate your day properly

- The hotel’s back and functioning

- And completely covered in decorations

- He appeared to have raided the entire party store

- Every occasion seemed to be represented lol

- Literally everything you could imagine stuck to the walls

- There’s even a balloon arch

- He clearly spent a really long time on it so you give him lots of kisses

- Which makes him almost blush

- He really cares and just wants you to feel good

- He would be by your side the entire time

- You would have a lot of fun

- Mostly just enjoys wrapping his arms around you

- And swaying slightly

- Whispering his love and happy birthdays

- The gift he gave you would be very meaningful and super romantic

- You would have melted right then and there

- You have a really great time, drinking and laughing

- You sit on his lap when you’re not being hauled up to dance with Cordy and Wes

- You even convince Angel to dance

- It’s equal parts dorky and adorable

- You definitely dance with him

Cordy:

- She would be so ridiculously excited

- For your birthday

- Like, ordering everyone around

- Making sure they get you the very best gifts

- And nobody is allowed to forget

- Or else

- She’s really pumped for you to be celebrated

- You’ll probably go to a bar the night before with all your friends

- Maybe Caritas if it’s up and running at the time

- (Cordy swings free drinks for you all)

- But the next day was your birthday

- You would wake up beside her

- It would honestly just be the best gift

- Just to have her this way

- You pull her into you

- Snuggling together

- Both of you sleeping off a hangover (Depending on how much/if you drank)

- Today, your actual birthday, was just for you and her

- Intimate in a way that she has always craved

- And with you she has

- Completely

- She has bought a lot of presents

- They can be assigned to two categories:

- Things you want and others that she insists you need

- All very well thought out and incredibly sweet

- She would be very cute and press lots of kisses to your lips

- Soft, sleepy kisses

- You spend a lot of the day in bed

- Just the two of you

- It’s honestly just perfect

- She wanted you to herself and you completely feel the same

- She’ll have rented movies, anything you like and you just spend it on the sofa

- Wrapped in blankets and each other

- Understated (yes, she can do understated)

- And yours

Lorne:

- The grandest plans

- You only deserved the best

- You always felt completely cherished with Lorne

- But he made sure to give you his undivided attention around your Birthday

- He wanted all the attention to be lavished upon you

- He could be so soft and so very insistent too

-He could tell you sometimes felt guilty about it but his nature made it so that he always made sure you were enjoying yourself

- The most important thing was always that you felt good

- Caritas was basically a shrine to you

- He would source pictures of you growing up, fixing them up everywhere

- There would be themed drinks (from important points in your life)

- Not to mention the list of karaoke songs all evening were exclusively your favourites

- Absolutely no exceptions

- You would be showered in gifts

- Despite you telling him it really wasn’t necessary

- Especially if it’s one of your first birthdays with you both together

- Would go so far past overboard

- But he would be entirely too cute about it

- He would vibrate with excitement

- Waiting for you to open everything

- Just when you thought you were finished

- Another pile of presents would appear from nowhere

- All the affection too

- Through the entire day, would want to be close to you

- Always does but especially so

- At the end of the day, would wrap you in his arms

- Already planning to outdo himself next year

Spike:

- The man is near obsessive over your birthday

- Consumes his thoughts the entire month, just like you do all of the time

- Won’t stop thinking about it

- Mentioning it

- He’s definitely more into it than you are

- He wants you to have something normal, human

- You have to have something special - he insists

- Wants to cherish you, the entire day would be yours

- You would make the decisions for the day

- And then he would have something planned for the evening

- Will decide to take you for drinks

- But at a more high end place than he would usually take you

- Might even take you for a trip away, somewhere you used to go

- will steal Angel’s fanciest car

- he’ll take you somewhere that he knows you like

- maybe somewhere special to the both of you

- The evening will be nice, he’ll make you smile as always

- Might treat you to some human food

- A restaurant too if you like that kind of thing

- You always feel special with him

- But the evening won’t end there

- You’ll make your way back to the car

- But he’ll grab your hand with a smirk

- Dragging you in the opposite direction

- He has it all set up

- He paid off the security guard

- There are blankets and tiny little fairy lights

- That he would have to turn off in a second, but he knew he would enjoy seeing your smile though

- He had wanted a big gesture

- Something from the movies

- Because that’s what your love was like

- Something more human but still intimate

- Just for you

- He would help you lie back, lying by your side

- Pulling you into him

- You would be stargazing as you nestled into him

- Pointing out constellations that he probably was naming completely wrong

- But you wouldn’t care because he had thought all of this up just for you

- You were happy just as long as you would be together

- He would make you laugh so hard

- And just make you feel so cherished and celebrated 😊

Wes:

- Would be so bashful about his plans

- Ridiculously anxious that you would be enjoying yourself

- That you would like whatever he came up with

- Absolutely head over heels for you

- Completely and utterly yours

- And so wants his plans to reflect this

- The gift he gives would be understated, but completely fitting

- He would be nervous to give it to you

- But once you begin gushing

- He would smile and chuckle in that way he does

- He wants to take you to a bar

- For drinks because you deserve to be celebrated

- The world’s always threatening to end

- So he wants you to have a day where it can just be you both

- Celebrating his absolute favourite person

- You ask him if he’ll dance with you

- He looks around a little embarrassed

- But he gets a burst of courage

- Takes your hand, leads you to the dancefloor

- You dance wildly, matching his moves and laughing

- A slow song started

- You loop your arms around his neck

- It was just the two of you

- For all you knew

- He whispered something

- Something he hadn’t said yet

- “I love you”

- The sweetest, most meaningful Birthday gift

- You would press your lips to his

- Telling him just how much you appreciated this

- And he would smile into the kiss

- Chuckling slightly

- So ecstatic that you were enjoying yourself

- But you insist that it would only be with him

- He wraps his arms around you

- Leaning his head against yours

- You dance slowly in the middle of the room

- Eyes closed

- It was pure bliss

- You love each other so much

Drusilla:

- She would pull out every stop

- An extravagant event

- In your honour

- Everything would have to be just so

- Or she would start cracking skulls

- Would attempt to make it a sweet surprise

- But would begin to murmur about it one evening

- As she held you close

- You would be very used to interpreting her words

- And so realise

- But not tell her so not to upset her

- Either way it would be beautiful

- just before the day, she brings you a bunch of flowers

- they’re night blooming

- and they look a little dead

- but you of course adore them

- The night of your birthday was so pretty, she says it’s because it belongs to you

- Your night

-The event would be filled with gifts and people you vaguely knew and liked

- She would ensure you were the centre of attention

- As you were already the centre of her world

- She would smile, laying such adoring affections on you

- Her hands entwined with you

- Would be by your side for the entire day

- Soft gestures of physical affection as you both enjoyed the celebration

- Always touching you

- Would definitely have several gifts for you

- Definitely a birthday tarot reading

- You tell her that you don’t need a future reading, you see yourself with her

- For eternity

- She would adore this and get very excited

- Lots and lots of love

- And probably several trinkets

- She probably found these trinkets by purposefully targeting the owners

- And taking them for you

- (A for effort, isn’t she the sweetest? Always thinking of you)

Gunn:

- He would be a man with a plan

- It may not be pulled off exactly as planned

- But he would have had the idea in advance

- Very caring for a s/o

- Can get wrapped up in a relationship

- Which is lucky for you

- He adores you

- Absolutely worships you

- (just as you do for him ofc)

- He gets up early, ready to set everything up

- But gets instantly interrupted

- You roll over and wake up

- He can’t resist you

- Gets caught out and slides back into bed

- Holds you for a while and you cuddle up to him

- Long story short…

- You spend most of the day in bed

- Long into the afternoon

- Which, he finds a lot better than he could have planned anyway

- He tried to get away at first but by noon he just couldn’t tear himself away

- He holds you close

- Telling you how lucky he feels to have you

- And that he wants everything to be good

- He’ll singlehandedly stop an apocalypse for you

- He insists nothing’s gonna stop celebrating your day

- But you pull him back into bed again

- Pressing kisses against him

- Insisting he’s the only gift you could ever want

- But when he presents his actual gift you of course take it

- He’s very in tune with you, always listens to what you like

- And so the gift is very thoughtful but also useful/something you will use

- Which leads to you peppering him in kisses and gushing

- Which makes him smile

- That one that makes him absolutely glow

- You’re still not quite sure what the plans were

- But they were easily cancelled, he sent a chain text and it was sorted

- he called for takeout instead

- your favourite of course

- it was simple but honestly you wouldn’t want it any other way

- just you and him

Darla:

- Probably would not have remembered

- Until you mentioned it

- Definitely isn’t used to birthday celebrations

- You had been through so much since then

- But once she realises

- Decides she wishes to dedicate the day to you

- She doesn’t show it often, but she can be so ridiculously soft for you

- The day would be intimate and just for the both of you

- She can be very possessive and wouldn’t want anyone else involved

- Anything you wanted she would get for you

- You name it, literally

- It’s yours

- She can take over entire shopping malls

- Hold up an evil law firm

- Make them do a spell or something for you

- She would lavish so much on you

- You could take your pick of anything and she would take your hand the entire day

- Such obvious affection is rare, but she does adore you

- Presses a single kiss against your temple

- With that sweet, knowing smile

- Her eyes would always be on you

- You would feel loved just by her gaze

- She truly stopped everything just to celebrate you

- Evil plots on pause, won’t even talk to Wolfram and Hart

- If that’s what you wish

- She doesn’t like to admit how much you mean to her

- But because it’s your birthday

- She would

- If she hasn’t already, she would love to sire you

- It would be a very romantic gift for her to offer

- As if she had brought you a dozen roses

- Making your death day and your birthday the same day

- She would see it as the best present she could give you

Lindsey:

- Doesn’t mention your birthday

- Always so busy at work

- You presume he’s forgotten

- And you don’t remind him

- You don’t mind

- (or I mean that’s what you tell yourself)

- But when the day rolls around you wake up

- And frown

- His work clothes are still out

- He hasn’t left today

- And someone’s in your kitchen?

- You go and see what’s going on and he’s made your favourite breakfast

- He looks at you as if you just brought the sun into the room

- A heavenly glow that only surrounded you

- You were the light in his life

- He loves so deeply, wants to cling onto this

- Wants you to know just how much he loves you

- By making this day just for you

- He chides you though cos he was trying to make breakfast in bed

- But you had woken up

- But you just wrap your arms around him and hug him close

- He pulls you in for a deep kiss

- Holding onto this moment

- Holding on to you

- He’s got a very rare day off

- And you don’t want to ask how much of his soul was sold off for the luxury

- The day’s completely yours

- You go out and do tourist-y stuff in LA

- You live there but never get a chance to do something just fun and normal

- So you go around and take cheesy pictures

- Try out different hotspots

- You have a really lovely meal at the end of the day too

- He’s comfortable, has money to blow on fancy meals

- But it means more because he appeared to have looked into the local menus and stuff

- Finding suggestions that he knew that you would like

- You go to a few bars that you really enjoy

- but he soon notices you want to go back home

- So you and he can celebrate without any prying eyes

- It was truly one of the best days, you felt so much closer

Fred:

- She would have forgotten about birthdays

- After Pylea

- But when you mentioned it casually

- She jumped into action

- Not just because it was probably only a few days away

- But because she loved you and wanted you happy

- Wouldn’t want to do anything too lavish

- It’s just not the way you both are together

- It would be something simple, but so very meaningful

- She would be so soft

- (I mean she is anyway, but this is a day celebrating you)

- And she loves you so much

- I think she’d take you for a little day out

- A kind of adventure

- But one where you could relax plenty

- A day off from demons and one just for you?

- Perfection

- She would present you with a gift while you were out

- I think she would have made it herself I think

- Probably took a while

- But she enjoyed it so much

- Something clever and cute

- Like her

- She would blush if you made a big deal of thanking her

- But ultimately reciprocate any kisses

- She would probably cuddle up to you and ask what you would like to do that evening

- She apologises for not having grander plans but honestly her just being with you is the best

- And you ofc tell her this

- You settle for drinks at a bar you both like

- But you don’t stay long, mostly just wanting to spend time privately

- You grab some takeout on the way home

- And celebrate more intimately

- The glow of the tv, but neither of you will be watching

- Just the two of you

Doyle:

- He’d be buzzing with excitement

- You always treat him so good

- (he swears he doesn’t deserve it)

- So he makes sure that you feel the love

- Especially so because it’s your birthday

- He says you have plans for your birthday

- And you’re like ??

- That’s news to me lol

- But he absolutely won’t tell you

- And teases you about it in the weeks leading up

- His teasing smile is equal parts infuriating

- And cute

- He just wants you to enjoy yourself

- And this is part of it

- He’s sick of everything ruining your time together

- So he tries to bargain with the powers

- He just looks upwards and half-pleads for them not to bother him

- Just for your birthday weekend

- No visions, please

- Nothing he comes up with, in his own mind, will be good enough

- He wants to give you the world

- And he promises one day he will

- Does this through a cute little globe key chain

- Before giving you a few more gifts

- He truly listens to you and things you like

- Buys things through the year

- So that he has them

- Hiding them is hard

- He would have planned it all out, using his connections

- He’s bagged a weekend away for you both

- somewhere you’ve always wanted to go

- Somewhere really nice, super upmarket

- Not something you’re used to after living in LA so long

- You have the best time

- He honestly makes you feel like the only person in the world

- He’s just so sweet

- Literally would drop anything for his s/o

- To make sure you’re enjoying yourself and happy

- It was just perfect

- You’re already planning to make it a tradition

124 notes · View notes

soulwillower · 4 years

Text

heather • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

[based off the song heather by conan gray]

requested: OMG I HAVE AN IDEA IDK IF ITS GOOD AND IDK WHY IM TYPING IN ALL CAPS BUT CAN U DO A FIC WHERE LIKE ITS BASED OF YHE SONG HEATHER BY CONAN GRAY WHERE THE READER AND RICH HAVE BEEN BEST FRIENDS FOR SO MANY YEARS AND HAVE FEELINGS FOR EACHOTHER BUT THERE BOTH SO OBLIVIOUS- SO WHEN RICHIE LIKE GETS A GF ONE DAY THE READER JUST WHSKWHDIWHWIW IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN IT BUT LIKE AT THE END THEY REALIZE THEYRE IN LOVE. SORRY IF ITS TOK SPECIFIC. LOVE U. IM RUNNING OUTTA CHARACTERS

warnings: swearing, mentions of underage drinking, themes of cheating but no actual cheating, angst, fluff at the end, unedited.

thank u guys so much for being so patient with this fic <3 love u all so much!

[losers + reader are 18+ in this.]

4.4k words

(also, this fic starts with a flashback and idk if i like this style, but lmk if it works)

♡

the persistent beat thudding in your ears seems to do nothing more than dim your already low mood as you sip on lemonade by yourself in someone's basement bar, sitting on an uncomfortable metal barstool and leaning your head heavy against your chin.

these days, it seemed as though the world was painted in gray.

you look around almost lazily; bev and ben went outside in the snow a couple minutes ago, stan just took a girl upstairs - you're left alone now, because mike and eddie had to study for their exam and bill was feeling under the weather. and richie, as usual, was late.

there's almost twenty other people in the room right now, but you have no desire to speak to any of them. you've been trying to have fun tonight, but you're just having a hard time, feeling distracted and unable to stop thinking about wire framed glasses and a certain bright smile.

your wandering eyes halt your thoughts as a girl in your class - heather perez - catches your eye from across the room, her hair falling in natural curls that makes you sigh in envy. she smiles and waves at you warmly, gesturing for you to come and sit with her. you swallow and look down into your cup of dreary, graying lemonade as you try not to think about how you look in comparison. she's so fucking pretty. you look back up and shake your head with a friendly smile, faker than a plastic flower, and nod to the bathroom. she shrugs and smiles, turning back around.

she was too sweet, it hurt.

her naturally dark hair, long and wavy, her smooth dark skin, her laugh.... but suddenly, your head snaps back up after recognizing a familiar sight on heather's figure.

-is that richie's sweater?

your heart thumps and churns in the most unsavory way as all the breath leaves your lungs in one swift exhale. you feel sick to your stomach and your hand falls to hit the counter to stabilize yourself, the lemonade sloshing out of the cup slightly. but you pay no mind. heather's wearing richie's sweater...

you know that sweater really well. it's definitely his, and for some reason that makes you want to cry.

you blink and force yourself to suck air into your lungs as you look around quickly, anywhere but at heather perez wearing richie tozier's sweater, with all the stripes and patterns and the rough polyester material. you're not sure why you're so caught off-guard, you knew that heather perez was maybe-kinda-sorta seeing your trashmouth. he'd mentioned it in passing a few times and you've not been able to keep it off your mind as bev and bill whisper to richie about it in the halls or during hangouts when you were laying in stan's lap pretending not to hear it.

it hurts, though. holy hell, does it hurt when richie turns the corner and the typical, 'hey, richie!' choruses through most of the people in the basement - and yet his eyes are just set on her.

it hurts even worse when you make eye contact with him and he smiles at you, nodding in greeting and calling a "hey there, toots!" over the thumping of the noise before turning back towards heather.

your heart thumps erradically as you eye him sliding an arm around her shoulders easily, pulling her into his tall lanky frame, crushing your chest and deflating your trembling heart. heather's head falls onto richie's shoulder and you shiver, feeling colder than you've felt in so long. the lemonade you force to your lips tasting like stale water as the sight of richie pinching heather's shoulder and thumbing his own sweater on her frame make you feel empty.

even now, weeks later, you remember how it felt. you sip on the boiling tea and immediately burn your tongue, making you swear as you stare out your window, the snow falling around your house in the dark making you feel an odd, empty kind of peace. that fucking sweater.

you haven't talked to richie in almost a week and a half - he got in trouble the night after the party and his parents took his phone away - at eighteen years old, his parents took his phone - so that he could 'spend time with family' (a task that made you chuckle to yourself when bill had explained it to you about twelve days ago).

it's winter break, though, and you've been missing the last piece of your eight-person puzzle the last few times you've hung out with your friends. it feels empty without richie's boisterous shenanigans, snarky looks and goofy comebacks... you feel really embarrassed for missing him so deeply.

tears well up in your eyes as you think again about his damn sweater, the one that heather was wearing, the same one he'd given you not even three weeks prior.

"well look at you." richie says with amusement trickling through his voice like melting icewater through a calm creek. you spin towards him with a grin eclipsing your face as you shrug around his sweater, pretending not to smell his strong scent and pretending not to feel the immediate comfort it gives you.

"you know, for as dumb as it looks, i kind of like it." you tease, brushing some hair back from your eyes as the sweater sleeves fall back down past your hands. he laughs, eyes not leaving you for a second.

"shit, doll. keep it." he says, sounding serious. it makes you pull a face at him, starting to lift it slightly over your head to return it to its rightful owner.

but he shakes his head, hands gently gripping your arms and halting your motions, subsequently setting your heart on fire. his lips are set in a gentle grin as he shakes his head again. "it looks so much better on you."

it's spoken simply, in such honestly that it makes you blush nearly immediately. in fact, you're so flustered that all you can do is shove him a bit, stuttering out a quiet, "shut up, richie, you- i - okay, whatever."

it makes him chuckle as he takes the soft blow of your hands against his shoulders, deftly running his hands through his curly locks as he shakes his head. "you're adorable, kid."

you're lucky he'd turned around to gripe around on his messy bed for his laptop, because the stupid grin you're sure is painting your face is enough to make you dig your own grave and then hand him the shovel. if only he knew how much you liked him.

you didn't keep the sweater after that night, though. at the time, you'd told him it was because it was putrid; that the colors and patterns were a sin to man and that you'd never be caught dead wearing it out. he laughed the whole time because you had literally worn it to the store with him it with him that same day. but now, you'd give anything for richie to give you that sweater again, to feel that polyester inseam fall against your stomach and your arms and chest, like a huge richie hug (without all the bones and the cologne and the caffeine-pulsing heartbeat - so not a real richie hug, but as close as you could get to the real thing without actually just having it).

god, you like him too much. you rub your face with your palm, the moisture from the tears that had accidentally escaped your eyes smudging against your face. you're tired, almost - it's like an empty, heartbroken exhaustion that sags your shoulders and chokes your throat and makes you zone out for minutes at a time. one thought overwhelms you right now, so as you see a car's headlights shine out your window through the falling snow, you don't even notice it.

you just wish you were heather.

you've tried to hate her. really, you have - you figured maybe, just maybe, if you were able to rant to bev or eddie about how much of a bitch heather is, how she's terrible to richie and how boring she was, maybe you could justify the heartbreak in your chest.

but god, she's so perfect. heather, with her shiny hair, bright smile, her flawless mind and caring heart. she's, as far as you're concerned, an angel. of course richie would choose heather, who wouldn't?

the other day at that party, you'd tried your hardest to ignore your intrusive thoughts, but you can't help feeling like it would all be better if heather didn't exist. and even that thought alone hurts your heart, because you remember the smile on richie's face when he looked at her, swathed in his sweater and floating around the room like a beacon of light.

and you could never, ever in good conscience take that from richie.

you almost laugh at how absurd it is - now you're talking to yourself while you stare out the window, half asleep, dreaming of freckles placed just like constellations and crooked noses, of jawlines that jut out and long, lanky fingers; of loud, chipping laughter and beat up high-tops with cuffed corduroy pants.

"y/n?" a voice behind your door makes you jump a bit, unsettling your already disconcerted bones. you’re imagining him, now? you laugh into your scalding mug for a second, but after a double-take at the doorway you find the angel himself to be standing there with a perplexed look.

"richie, what're you doing here?" you ask, rubbing your eye to make sure no tears are left. he looks troubled. "i knocked, but nobody answered. so..." he says with a shrug, and you ned, tucking a leg under yourself and nodding.

"what are you doing, toots?" he asks, backlit by the hallway light. and then you finally can see what he's wearing, and you almost laugh at your own misery.

but you don’t laugh, your brain short-circuiting as you feel the knife twist further into your abdomen. the stupid fucking sweater.

“-um, nothing. y- did you get that back from heather?” you try to deliver the line as smoothly as possible, but by the look on his face, you did a real shit job at that.

“what?” he asks in an exhale as he shakes snowflakes from his hair and shoulders, closing your door as he walks towards you and falls to sit next to you on your windowsill seat.

“i thought you gave her that sweater.” you say and he raises a brow, “yeah, like two weeks ago.” he says slowly, eyeing you. he adds, “she obviously didn’t need it after that.”

you frown, “did she need it then?” you didnt try to sound bitter at all, but your voice comes with more of a sting than you’d anticipated.

as always, richie meets fire with fire. “it was twenty fuckin’ degrees out, she was wearing a tank top.”

you don’t know what to say so you just stare out the window with a quick huff, crossing your arms. "why does it matter? it's a sweatshirt." he mutters. "i was just being nice to her."

you nod, pain twisting around in your stomach. he's right, it's just a sweater. but he gave it to her, because he likes heather better.

“what’s up with you, kid?” he asks, gentler this time.

“don’t call me kid, richie.” you say sharply, not meeting his eyes. “and there’s nothing up with me.” you know you’re being difficult, but you really don't have the energy to argue with him right now.

it’s quiet again, and the silence is even more awkward. you take another scalding sip of your tea.

“um, y/n... is this because of heather?” he says after a bit. you feel the tension that the acknowledgment brings as it hits you in the thick, cold air. richie’s tapping a rhythm on his thigh, so you can tell he feels it too.

"richie." you say weakly, your voice coming out too quiet, too obviously broken and exhausted. "i cannot do this. please don't do this right now"

he blinks at you, eyebrows furrowed. "sugar, i'm so lost right now."

you decide to change the subject. "-why'd you come over?" you ask, actually looking at him then immediately regretting it. he looks hurt and confused, like a lost puppy.

"oh. um, i just need to tell you something.it's about heather, too." he sounds anxious, and you roll your eyes, looking down at the tree outside your room as wind blows powdery white mounds off its branches.

“can this just wait until tomorrow?” you whisper. doesn't he get it?

it's quiet and for a moment you believe that he's going to leave it, to not bring up the obvious jealousy brewing in your chest. but he breaks the silence too soon.

"i tried to kiss her." he says and you immediately look towards the door, the most immediate escape possible.

your breathing gets heavy; if you have to hear this, you know you'll admit your feeling to richie, and you don't want to do that to him. but you have a suspicion that he already knows.

"richie, i'm so, so glad to see you. and that you like heather. really, i am. but- it's not a good time. i'm not- i'm not okay." you say, voice thick as tears well behind your eyes.

richie’s eyes widen almost comically as you make eye contact and his hands immediately find purchase on your arms, his thumbs rubbing in the way that he has done ever since that one foggy summer you spent in the sewers. "y/n/n, what's wrong, sweetheart?" he asks, watching sadly as a tear slips from your cheek. it breaks your heart when he calls you sweetheart, and you shake your head.

you can't tell him the truth - that you love him, so instead, you mumble, "i've missed you. there's a lot going on, and i just really need you."

he looks guilty as he pulls you into a warm hug, one that takes you off guard but that you return gratefully. "you've been too busy spending time with heather and with your parents, and i understand that, i just - you know, i miss you." you say, voice muffled as your cheek is squished into his shoulder. he sighs shakily, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “i know i’ve been with her a lot, i’m sorry sugar.” he mutters.

it feels like you’re both holding something back from the other.

"i wish i were heather." you say against his shoulder, knowing richie’s completely unaware of the depth of your statement. but he pulls back and stares at you, an unknown look on his face. you open your mouth to say something, but you're cut off before you can get anything out.

and his lips fall against yours lightly, almost as if they’re ghosts against yours. his presence feels fleeting.

you barely close your eyes and press closer to him before you snap out of it, jerking backwards with wide eyes.

richie’s eyes fall open too as he looks at you questioningly. your heart is thumping heavy as you shake your head, more shocked than you thought ever possible. “what?” he asks, as if he’s surprised you’re not kissing back.

you give him a sad, broken look. you think you’ll cry as you mutter, "why would you ever kiss me? i'm not - i'm not nearly as pretty as her, i'm just-"richie suddenly looks like he might get sick, his face paler than usual as the steam from your tea dwindles idly between you. he cuts you off. "-why are you - why are you saying all these things y/n/n-”

“heather. you like heather.” you say frantically, trying to remind him so you dont have to live through this fresh faced heartbreak twice as painful if he kisses you again.

but richie shakes his head, and your confusion skyrockets just as much as your heartbeat."no. a-amy asked her out." he says breathlessly. "-she said yes."

you blink, pulling even further away as it dawns on you. "wait. so... so you only want to see me after the girl you wanted finds someone else?" you ask, watching as the smile gets smacked off of richie's face so quickly you think it may give him whiplash. "wait, no-" he starts, but you shake your head.

“richie, do you understand how hurtful that is?” you say, voice heavy as you try not to let tears fall.

he shakes his head, eyes glossing with tears as he gapes at you, “n-no, y/n-“

“fuck, richie. i know you know about my feelings for you. how could you do this? i’m not heather, i’m reminded that every time i’m in the same room as the two of you. she’s had you completely mesmerized for the last month, you can’t just use me to distract yourself.” you say, your tea completely forgotten as a tear escapes your eye.

he shakes his head, looking at you with an emotion you don’t have the energy to decipher. “leave, richie.” your voice is broken and it shakes as you look away from him.

you’re not sure what you were expecting, but when richie stands up silently you dont even look away from the window. you see him wipe his cheek in your peripheral before he sighs quietly and walks out of your room, shutting the door quietly.

you cry openly as you hear your door shut downstairs, your hands shaking as you cover your face, your shoulders shaking with sobs. you make it under your covers just as you hear a car engine sputter outside, your heart empty and lips still tingling as the feeling of richie’s lips linger on yours. you groan into your pillow and let out another sob, your eyes squeezing in agony as your heart feels like it’s ripping in two.

because even if they’re not together, richie still likes her.

why couldn’t you be heather?

you cry until you’re asleep, your now cold mug of tea resting on the windowsill as your phone charges next to you and snow swirls in the dark sky.

when you wake up the next morning, your headache is nearly blinding. you feel like crying more as you remember last night. you roll over and rub your eyes, unlocking your phone groggily.

but you check your notifications and your heart immediately stops as you see a missed call from richie at 3:49 in the morning last night, and a voicemail left a minute later.

well, you guess he got his phone back.

your fingers tremble as they hover above the play button, feeling like you may vomit from anxiety - the message he left is two minutes long.

closing your eyes, ready for even more heartbreak, you press play and hold the speaker to your ear.

“um, y/n.” the voicemail starts off, and you’re already tearing up because richie’s voice is full to the brim with anxiety and he’s not using his usual nicknames for you.

“uh... okay, i- i know it’s four in the morning, and you’re probably asleep - god, i hope you are, and that you’re not ignoring me. not that i dont deserve it, but i just want you to get good rest. uh, a-anyways. fuck,” there’s an awkward pause and you’re holding your breath.

“you know i’m not good with phone calls or voicemails-“ his rambling just adds to your anxious feeling, but you think if you don’t listen to this, your anxiety would eat you alive.

“- fuck, i don’t know how to say this. kind of ironic, i guess, since i’ve been thinking about saying it like every day for probably more than a year- okay, i’m... god, spit it out, trashmouth.” his voice gets thicker and you can hear the emotion as he takes a shallow breath.

“y/n/n, you make my hands shake. i swear, my heart feels like it’s going to backfire and explode when we touch... and it scares me so fucking bad.” you feel your heart halt in your chest, the air leaving your lungs.

you keep the phone pressed tightly to your ear as richie’s recorded voice goes on.

“-fuck, y/n. i’m terrified. sometimes i think.... like, whoever created me... they designed me just to be yours. and... it’s not in the same way i feel about bev, or bill, or eddie-“ his voice breaks as he sniffs on the other end and it dawns on you that he’s crying. “-you’re you. you’re y/n. i tried to like heather as more than just a friend. but...” it’s silent for a second.

“i just kept comparing her to you. i do that with everybody. i think i’m broken. i love you so much that it hurts.” he’s crying enough by now that it’s leaking into his speech; he’s hiccuping, stuttering slightly, his inflection changing as you can almost picture the tears rolling off his thick eyelashes and onto his rosy cheeks.

“-and i can’t sleep right now knowing that i hurt you like this. i can’t believe that i let you think of yourself as lesser than heather in any way-“ he sobs quietly in the recording and takes a stuttering breath. "i can’t believe i put myself before you. i’m such a shitty friend. i should’ve been giving you my stupid fucking sweaters the whole time.”

tears are pouring out of your eyes as you sit up, ripping the comforter off your legs. you’re pulling on socks and your shoes as you continue to listen to richie’s voicemail.

“i’m sorry that i kissed you, and i’m sorry that i dragged you into this m-mess, that i used heather as an excuse to ignore my feelings for you. i-i love you so fucking much, and i’m just so scared of hurting you. i’m so sorry that i hurt you, y/n.”

you have to see him.

“-and, um, i’m sorry i left this voice message. this is probably the worst way to find this out but i figured that it would be easier for us to ignore if it wasn’t in person- y’know, because you don’t have to respond. just- now you know. that i’m sorry, and that i don’t expect you to forgive me or want to speak to me for a while. i just- i need you to know that you’re so loved, y/n. and that you deserve so much better than me.

“so, um, okay. i’ll let you sleep now. b-bye.” he whispers the end and then the line cuts dead.

you’re left with shaking breath and tears in your eyes as his voice rings in your head. you try to take in what he’s just said, but you think you’re about to pass out.

how can richie love you back?

you brush your teeth almost aggressively as your heart beats erratically in your chest and then you’re suddenly flying down the snowy road towards the tozier’s house.

you realize too late that you look completely awry, hair unbrushed, eyes puffy and swollen, shoes untied as you knock on the front door of richie's house.

went opens the door, richie’s younger sister sat on his hip as he smiles at you, "y/n! long time no see. richie's upstairs in his room."

you smile at him in thanks, too rushed to say anything to him or munch. then you’re all but sprinting up the stairs, only feeling the anxiety as you throw open the door to his bedroom.

you're relieved that he's laying in his bed, surrounded by pillows and fluffy comforters as he jumps from the noise of your arrival.

when he sits up, neither of you say anything. his eyes are red and rimmed with tears, a heartbreaking sight as his lower lip trembles slightly. you're sure you look the same as you take a step towards his bed, your eyes not leaving each other's for a second.

he looks incredible, still.

"y/n..." he whispers finally, his eyes wide. "did you get my message?" he says, lips tilting in a stupid, forced smile. his voice holds no humor in it's sad thickness, though, and you sigh as you look down to the carpet.

you shake your head, "can you not joke for a minute, rich?"

he laughs wetly, standing up fully and although he towers at 6'0, he looks so small. "i can try, doll, but then i'll start to cry a lot, and that's just not what anybody wants-"

"richie." you say, effectively ceasing his rambling. it's cold in his room, bright white from the snow outside, and silent. he looks at you with huge eyes and a red nose.

but you don't know what to say. you’ve spent so long wanting to be heather, but now you've found out that richie's loved you this whole time. it hurts, but you can't wait another second being away from richie.

you launch yourself towards him, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down to your mouth.

this time, the kiss is warm, unexpected again but much more loving. it's a kiss that tastes like tears and love and trust, and all you can feel is richie as his hands find purchase on your cheek and back, pulling you so close to him that you can feel is rapid heartbeat.

he pulls back to mumble against your lips, "i'm so sorry." you shake your head, pressing another kiss to his and loving the feeling of richie against you finally. "i love you." you say, feeling his grin against your mouth.

"i love you so much." he says, pulling you lightly to fall onto his bed with him and tickling your sides.

you laugh lightly, swatting at his prodding fingers. "please stop crying." he whispers, laying above you with a small smile. you roll your eyes, "you stop crying rich." you retort, and he shakes his head, one of his tears falling onto your cheek. you jump from the feeling and wipe it away, sniffling a gasp and pulling him into a tight hug, his legs tangling with yours.

“i’m sorry.” he mumbles. you cup his cheeks so his lips pucker out and you smile at him, whispering, “i forgive you, rich. i love you.” and then you place a soft kiss to his lips and he kisses you back enthusiastically. he pulls back and hugs you again, burrowing himself in your neck.

"i didn't think i'd ever get you." he says, muffled by his face in your shoulder. "thank you for trusting me. i love you so much." he kisses your collarbone lightly and your fingers play through his curls lightly as you smile, eyes closing. you're so tired.

"i love you more, richie."

you fall asleep with richie curled up beside you, his breath light on your chest and arms clutching you against him. you fall asleep with richie’s lips on your neck, his legs entangled with yours.

you fall asleep contently, knowing that you no longer have to wish you were heather.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @simplesammyx @brxken-heartsclub @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @finnskindofwoman @kait-tozier @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters <33

#richie tozier x reader #losers x reader #losers club x reader #jewish richie tozier #bill denbrough x reader #stanley uris x reader #beverly marsh x reader #eddie kaspbrak x reader #ben hanscom x reader #mike hanlon x reader

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ot3-watch · 3 years

Text

Episode 5: The Mile High Job

WHY IS THIS EPISODE 8

FUCK THE NETWORK I’M VERY TIRED

So we’re starting on a client testimony. Which is sad because I kind of like the context establishing scenes

Sophie being French is hilarious

I’m not saying Hardison shouldn’t be able to take off when he needs to. I am saying that MAYBE THEY SHOULD PLAN HEISTS FOR DAYS WHEN THEY ARE A MEMBER SHORT?

Also, why does Hardison not put his food on a plate before he puts it in the microwave. That spinning plate does not get washed nearly enough for that to be sanitary

OK wait did Hardison just flake out? THEN WHY DID THEY NOT POSTPONE?

THEY SHOULD HAVE PLANNED THIS MUCH BETTER

I love Parker being magic and teleporting

The security guards always seem like idiots and tbh, working where I work with the security guards being who they are, I feel like it’s all bullshit and a disservice to security guards.

I love the Doctor WHo references. TOM AND SARAH JANE BAKER YES MA’AM

But also did no one make a Doctor Who comment? Like really. I know Tom Baker is probably a common name but I really want to know what happens when they get a whovian checking their IDs

THe poor flight attendant. That sucks. Can you imagine getting a COMPLETELY fake call that your cat might be put down? I’m sorry, I can’t. Completely innocent people get screwed by them sometimes and I feel bad

Eliot remembers everyone he’s slept with I love him.

THIS POOR FLIGHT ATTENDANT? WHat happens when she comes back and everyone is side eyeing her and being bitchy?

I hate the trope of girlfriends or love interests being overly sensitive about people remembering tiny details. Especially when they aren’t actually together. Especially when it happened years ago. Especially when they hold it against them for the whole episode.

SOME PEOPLE HAVE TERRIBLE MEMORIES OK

Also, this is Nate. It’s a shock he has any brain cells left with how drunk he is 99% of the time. Get OVER yourself Sophie.

PLACE YOUR MASK OVER YOUR MOUTH AND NOSE ok Leverage predicting the future…

Parker being a terrible flight attendant is hilarious

Did I like her in this episode? I think I liked her in this episode

Eliot suffering through economy I can’t

I feel bad for the woman, but like… stop pushing? I know she’s nervous but the flight attendant is trying to do her job. I mean, it’s Parker, but in any normal situation…

Hardison pulls the same “You’re such a racist” bit every time he gets in a sticky situation, and it always works? Can you imagine if he tried to pull that on an actual racist?

Do planes have bars like that? I’ve been on plenty of planes and i’ve never seen a bar like that

Im never in first class though so whatever

OKAY GUYS THE IN-FLIGHT MOVIE IS ONE OF THE LIBRARIANS MOVIES

Which means noah wyle exists in the leverage universe.

HOW IS THAT GOING TO WORK WITH THE REBOOT THOUGH?

Unless they just… expected no one to notice? To be fair, it’s not like they focused on it

They probably just needed a movie they could use without securing rights first or running into copyright issues

But still… paradoxes

Eliot just going through a bunch of random people's bags…

HE AND PARKER MOVING AROUND EACH OTHER SO COMFORTABLY THOUGH

THIS IS SEASON ONE WHY ARE THEY SO GOOD TOGETHER ALREADY

I LOVE THEM GUYS

Parker. That’s not reassuring Parker. Parker that’s just terrifying. WHY WOULD YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT PARKER?? pARKER?? i’M CONCERNED PARKER!

I really hate Sophie getting mad at nate for this shit. It’s not funny. It’s not cute. It just makes Sophie seem unreasonable and bitchy

OK BUT Hardison and the woman bonding IMMEDIATELY over nerdy gaming is so great

Also i like that they made the other nerd a woman is great

OK but he is not talking nearly silently enough for the ONLY other person in the room to just stop listening to him?

Could you imagine the person you were talking to randomly stops talking, looks upset, and then sticks his head in the cabinet? And starts muttering to himself?

LIKE EITHER HE CAN’T TELL REALITY FROM FANTASY OR HES A SPY

WHY ARE YOU NOT SUSPICIOUS??

He really does pull this shit off really well.

The amount of men in that conference room is oppressive and very realistic ina very sad way

Parker must be in a thief’s paradise

OKAY I REMEMBER NOW AND I DID LIKE PARKER IN THIS EPISODE

“Nobody tells me anything”

THAT’S SUCH A MOOD

Literally the job I’m working in right now is exactly like that

My job is literally to know things and help people and provide them with the information they need

AND STILL I’M ONE OF THE LAST TO FIND THINGS OUT

IT’S VERY FRUSTRATING OK

WHy can I not remember why they’re going after genegrow? Someone died I think? But i cannot remember

“The guy in 1D wants to kill you. Ginger Ale?”

Why is it that all i can think about right now is harry styles and niall horan

I mean I KNOW why but like… why

I LOVE them but why?

WHAT IS THIS OFFICE WOMAN’S NAME I LOVE HER

How does no one question Hardison showing up out of nowhere though?

Im just saying… supposedly it’s “Dave’s” birthday, and they think they should have already known about it? He just started that job on that day?

Unless he’s pretending to have been there forever but even then…

This makes no sense? I’m so confused?

Eliot beating a guy up in an airport bathroom is fantastic

But also you can’t fit one person in a airport bathroom, let alone two

THe view from the top is much smaller than the shots from the side

Parker: the guy we just took out? Eliot: -_- Parker: The guy Eliot just took out?

Sophie always seems so shocked by the inhumanity of some of these people they interact with. Nate’s like “Yeah, people are awful” and Eliot’s like “I see worse all the time” and Parker’s like “Is this meant to be weird or something?” but Sophie’s like “WHAt? Someone wants people DEAD? And might KILL US IN THE PROCESS?”

Is the art theft world just not so violent?

Even hardison doesn’t seem shocked, just upset and offended. Sophie’s always like OoO though and it gets weird?

Now both Eliot AND Nate are fitting in the bathroom? With an already unconscious guy? I’VE BEEN IN AIRPLANE BATHROOMS. THEY AREN’T BIG ENOUGH FOR THAT.

Unless i’m just fat. Which is an option.

Why do people have random wires in their luggage? Who travels with a giant bundle of wires in their luggage?

Oh look. The red head was right. There is a tailwind

OK But THE OXYGEN MASKS CAME DOWN AND NO ONE IS TRYING TO PUT ONE ON?

I know they’re panicking but still

Nate really does just throw things at hardison and then Hardison goes like WHAT I CAN’T DO THIS and then he does it.

HOW is Hardison THAT talented it’s ridiculous

WE all talk about Eliot being hyper-competent in everything when Hardison is literally right there

Not to say that eliot doesn’t deserve attention because he does and I love him

I LOVE ELIOT OKAY

I’m just saying Hardison deserves more credit

HOW DID THEY NOT HIT ANY CARS WHEN THEY WERE LANDING? THERE ARE CARS RIGHT THERE? ANd then there’s suddenly no cars in font of them when they land ? It’s all deserted?

HARDISON IS SO GOOD THOUGH

How did they set up a party for “Dave” so quickly?

WHY DOES NO ONE LOOK TO SEE WHO DAVE WAS YELLING AT?

Everyone is so done with Hardison and honestly? Fair. He might’ve saved them, but he also screwed them over earlier. It came in handy, but still.

I really could not give less of a shit about the Nate Sophie storyline in this episode. In most of season one really. It’s all shitty and annoying

FINAL THOUGHTS: 8/10. Points off for people not acting like people. Points off for the shitty Sophie/Nate stuff. Extra points for Eliot being Eliot. (There will always be extra points for Eliot being Eliot). Extra points for Hardison’s badassery. Extra points because I liked Parker in this episode. Extra points for nerd girl. You go nerd girl. Points off because I literally remember nothing about this episode except for Hardison being awesome, the office scenes, and the fact that there was a plane crash. Why were they on the plane? No idea. Can’t remember.

Sam count: 3/5

IYS count: 2/5 (Am I remembering this wrong? I felt like there were more? Then again, I’m only 5 episodes in)

#leverage #leverage ot3 #leverage rewatch #eliot spencer #parker #alec hardison #nathan ford #sophie devereaux #episode 5 #the mile high job #rewatch #ot3

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isolaradiale · 3 years

Text

Yet again the snow had come and gone as the weather cools, melting away with ease over the passing days, but over the evening of November 30th the city was pelted by a terrible snowstorm that buried the land beneath almost five feet of snow. Strangely enough, as the clock turned midnight and December was ushered in, a number of festive events emerged across the city, some even being ones many have heard before, while others seeming entirely new...

As a note: these activities are separate from any events that may be launched during the month of December.

FIBONACCI WARD

BUILD-A-GINGERBREAD MAN High-tech meets sweet treats in this customized kitchen. For a price of (dust), citizens of Spirale can use screens to design a gingerbread cookie to their likeness. You can watch machines behind the glass cut, bake, and decorate your cookie as you command. You could make a gift for your friend... or make a cookie that looks like your worst enemy, and bite off their face. There's something for everyone!

SOUPS UP For the duration of December a giant pot of soup can be found in the center of Fibonacci. The type of soup changes from day to day, and how it replenishes nobody is quite sure! Regardless it is free for the taking and never dries out. Could this be the work of our goddess Ofiuco? Or could it be something more sinister? (It isn’t more sinister, it’s free soup.)

ICE TO MEET YOU A station has been set up in Fibonacci where you can come to view and sculpt ice sculptures. If you destroy any creations that are not your own, expect to have all of the Dust emptied from your account you jerk. All sculptures must be safe for work.

COTES WARD

QUID PRO SNOW Wandering in Cotes, it’s not foreign to see pixies, especially in their playground. However, it seems they’ve invited their frosty little cousins known as frost fairies over to play a few games with them... and you! Making your way into here can land you a pretty sweet reward, given the price you pay. That is, these fairies will be more than happy to make you anything you wish out of the snow and ice were you to give them a small treat or a gift of their liking.

I’M GOING GHOST... INTERACTING! Traveling through the Forest of Airaisal, one can find a passageway that mysteriously opens up on its own, leading to a path less traveled. Whether you choose to take it or not is entirely up to you. Electing to traverse it, you’ll find yourself in a small, private glen where you will encounter the ghost of your past, present, or future self. Whichever appears is up to you, though once it appears you’re welcome to interact with it as you deem fit. Maybe you want to console your past self that everything will be alright? Or perhaps you’d like to reflect on your present self, or at least the one that exists before you arrived here in Spirale. There’s also the option to speak to your future self, on what they think of you now, or maybe guidance on what might come. The possibilities are endless...

NOM RANCHING Visitors to the ward, especially around the Eternal Tree, will come to find magical marshmallow treats that appears to be causing chaos due to magical means! Whether it’s pelting themselves against passing visitors, knocking precious things over, or merely just circling about as a chaotic distraction, it’s clear the only way to keep them in check is to capture them and have a sweet treat so they don’t overwhelm the area. Hopefully you came with an empty stomach and a sweet tooth, to boot!

GOLDEN WARD

SNOWFLAKE SCAVENGER The Mermaid Cove Mall planned on having dancing snowflakes as an attraction, but it seems the snowflakes formed a mind of their own and... danced right off of their displays! Deciding to salvage the situation, the mall is now making a game out of it--find five of them and bring them back to the desk, and you win a gift card! Watch out, though. The snowflakes are notoriously hard to capture, and seem to take your own strengths into account... This won't be an easy task!

XTREME ICE CHALLENGE The ocean shores of the boardwalk have become completely frozen and boating is no longer possible nearby. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t fun to be had there! An obstacle course has been made for the daring complete with icy ramps, jumps, and obstacles.. Come with skates or without, but the organizers take no responsibility if you slip and break your nose.

SILVER-WHITE WINTERS For the duration of WinterFES, Spirale University is offering a different selection of classes related to the season. There are knitting classes where you can learn to make mittens and scarves, latte art classes to help you decorate your warm drinks for the season, and general classes to help you learn to wrap presents like a pro!

ARCHIMEDES WARD

CAROLS OF THE BELLES On evenings in the Archimedes ward, ringing through the streets from the Calliope Theater courtyard, you'll hear voices as lovely as the singers using them. A chorus known as the Winter Belles begin their lovely lyrical lineup, and the concerts are free to attend. There are also a few open slots to join them, as long as you attend chorus practice.

CRYSTAL FUNHOUSE This large palace is made entirely of ice, and from the inside, one can hear chimes through its halls. Inside are several attractions: a mirror room, a hall full of beautiful ice sculptures, a complementary shaved ice bar for those crazy enough to eat them in this weather... But follow the chimes, and you'll enter the ballroom, which is completely dark save for the tile floor. Each step you take makes a note that sounds most like you, and the ballroom lights up to the tune of your very soul as you dance across the floor... ...What would happen if two people danced together?

YOU BAKE IT YOU BUY IT Throughout the Star Trail, many stalls have been shifted around in order to make a large area for those who wish to put their skills to the test in what seems a continuous bake off. Not only that, but it seems they require volunteers to be the judges of the savory sweets that are gonna be pumped out throughout the days. Fancy yourself an excellent baker who can blow the socks off of any taster who tries your dish or those who wish to place their palettes to the test? Well, have a seat and be served... quite literally!

MISTWOOD

TERRES-TREE-AL DECORATING Once more, a safe passage has been made into the Mistwood, leading to an area called the Traveler’s Garden. Some might remember the need to plant more trees and won’t be surprised to find that those planted back in Spring have now sprouted rapidly and is ready for decorating! Those who planted them can find them in the same spots with several boxes around them full of holiday decorations to get them decorated and ready to shine bright for the snowy season. Oh, and no worries, even if you weren’t able to plant one back in Spring, you’re still more than welcome to help decorate them!

TIS THE SKI-SON In a clearing that breaks off from the decorating, various large hills of snow have sprung up from out of nowhere. Trekking up to the top or taking a ride on a few snowmobiles manned by some island residents will reveal that it’s a makeshift ski and snowboarding attraction! Once fitted with one of your preference, as well as given a safety helmet and goggles, you’re free to slide down those slippery slopes and show off to your pals. Or maybe you’ll just biff it as you catch sight of that rumored dragon in the distance as you ski on down!

SWIRLING GULF

SOMETHING SEEMS ICE-FISHY While the Swirling Gulf can still be accessed, it would seem that a large portion of the waters nearby has been magically frozen over in a thick sheet of ice that can be reached with their submarine transportation system, allowing many people to walk with ease across it. Several holes have been drilled into it as well, allowing people to partake in ice fishing! Though a various amount of fish can be caught, there is also the risk of danger that you may be (un?)lucky to find a murderous large fish at the end of your line. But that could just be a rumor, right? No way there’s some large ghost fish or dangerous sea creature that you could reel in, right...

SNOWMANNING THE FORT Deep below, found in various areas of the sunken city such as the Mainland, Coral Bay, and even near the Kelp Forest, snow that never melts has been brought down and packed into areas where many can build snowmen to their liking. Laced with bioluminescent qualities that offer you any type of color, you can make colorful creations come to life with ease. Not only that, but once completed, the snowman will imprint the emotion belonging to its creator, expressing itself in an exaggerated display on how they currently feel. Whether they’re the happiest they’ve ever been or happen to be a little Scrooge-y at the time, these snowmen are ways to express yourself from the bottom of your heart.

THE CITY OF GLASS

ONSEN AND OFFSEN Recently, there's been some magmatic activity closer to the surface on the back side of the volcano... suspected Nuee Ardente Society activity. Nothing (too) dangerous, though, and in fact, it happens to be below a spring source, turning the small ponds and water pools around the area into hot springs! Despite the snow blanketing most of the rest of the island, the areas immediately surrounding the pools are kept clear, mainly by the hot cocoa vendors who are taking advantage of this sales opportunity. Be careful, though, because the magma flow isn't constant, and the temperature of the water can fluctuate in either direction, for better or for worse.

JUST THE WAY YOU LIGHT IT Leading up to the natural tunnel that gives access to the renown Garden of Ash, many might take note of a beautiful array of lights and colorful flowers that are laid out like a path into the garden itself. It’s highly encouraged to take this path at night, where many hand strewn designs light up in the dwindling hours, also illuminating the various plants which grow in the ashen soils, all while making the already falling ash even more snow-like to fit the snowy landscape the island has become. Some of the lights can even reflect of any glass in the vicinity, creating an almost kaleidoscope effect that can take the breath away of onlookers.

SUNSET CIRCUIT

RINK AROUND THE CIRCUITS While more daring skaters might take fun in Golden Ward, more casual goers might find a bit more joy in the ice skating rink set up on the shores of Moon Beach where the waters have been frozen over and smoothed out. Even more alluring, the ice beneath seems to have a mesmerizing array of glowing colors that light up and forms into playful patterns beneath the ice to the beat of the current playlist. Whether you bring your own ice skates or have them provided, you’ll be sure to have a blast gliding along the top of the neon colors!

SNOW FUN ALLOWED There's a designated arena, full to the brim with snow that never seems to run out, dirty, or melt. Events take place not only throughout the day but also well into the night, with the arena being well-illuminated even at the darkest of hours. A good portion of the arena has been set up with barricades and obstacles for the ideal snowball fight zone, with regular switches between free-for-all or team games; the remainder has been sectioned off to protect any poor bystanders from errant deckings in the face, and is much more for making snowmen, snow angels, or any other sorts of snow activities you can think of.

#winterfes

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hecohansen31 · 4 years

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Not The Right Time

The Story Of How Everything Met The Family:

Ivar+Reader (Modern! AU)

(Masterlist) (Previous Chapter)

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

A few things before you start reading, SO PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU START READING THE CHAPTER!

This is a filler chapter again as the previous ones, mostly because this came out to have a lot more things to write than I originally thought and instead of writing a whole lot and leave it without a sense I prefered writing two parts (the next will be the angsty one!)

Pretty please, also: Tumblr has been penalizing me a lot, not making my tags work and not sharing my work, so please... if you do like the chapter and enjoy my writing consider sharing it and commenting it (please don’t simply share it, because I didn’t come here to be famous, I came here to gain feedback).

It takes a LOOOOT of courage to pubblish our own works, hence although you don’t see it, us writers go through A LOOT in our writing and such, dealing with insecurities and anxieties, most of the time not to have a gain from it, so please do consider supporting us through feedback.

Feedback makes my fingers write faster and my heart beat stronger!

With this being said, I do hope you’ll enjoy it!

Have a nice reading!

SUMMARY: Finally the Thanksgving Day has come and you have to endure a family lunch with your past lover, which might bring back more feelings and insecurities than you have ever thought.

WORDS: 12,6 K

WARNINGS: Pregnancy, Unexpected Pregnancy, Pregnancy at a Young Age, Mention of Abortion (and Being Harsh About it), Heartbreak and General Angst, Abandonement Issues and Being A Single Mom, Mention of Infertility, Use of the Word Cripple.

You set up the umpteenth outfit for the following morning, eventually choosing your more elegant pair of jeans, black and high-waisted, matched to a white sweater with a V-neck cleavage, elegant but not matronly.

Would it be enough to impress Aslaug, the ice queen?

You shook your head annoyed with yourself and with your overthinking.

From the start of this week you had told yourself that you wouldn’t have stressed yourself out for the Thanksgiving you had to pass at the Lothbrock house, although you had promised yourself to appear in your best shape.

And yet, the entire week you had done nothing more than set up things and ideas for it, getting your luggage ready on Tuesday, meanwhile you got Eric to be in his bed early tonight so that you could check it to make sure you had everything you needed.

It would have been one sole day, but you had still packed a small baggage mostly for Eric, with a few change of clothes (four, precisely) and a more elegant set of clothes, although Ivar had promised you it’d be extremely informal.

But you remembered perfectly that Aslaug’s idea of informal were elegant vintage dresses, giving her the look of a desperate housewife out of a ‘50s commercial, but with eyes of pure steel and a smirk that could petrify anybody on who it was set on.

When you weren’t busy being afraid of her judgement for your uncured clothes and dirty hair, when you were younger, you admired her dearly.

But you knew she didn’t like you very much.

She and Ivar always had a strong relationship and you were sure that one of the many reasons why she didn’t like you truly, as any girl that Ivar might have brought her home, was that you had stolen her smaller son for quite some time.

So, you shouldn’t have been worried, in the slightest, about it anymore.

Although you and Ivar had a child together, he undoubtedly had no intention of bringing you back home to him or of creating a relationship with you.

But you were still scared shitless of her judgement.

You were halfway through setting up another possible combination of clothes, when your phone thrilled awake under the pile of clothes on your bed, and you went to answer it, noticing it was Ivar.

You almost hoped he’d tell you that he was sorry but the entire Thanksgiving lunch had been postponed.

But you got another kind of ‘bad’ news:

‘… Freydis has had… an urgent appointment’ he explained, his voice clearly showing some kind of worry, but at the same time… it almost didn’t feel authentic.

His voice was mechanical, but you blamed it on the phone.

‘… she has started bleeding this afternoon. The doctor says it isn’t anything worrying, but he wants her to avoid travelling and to keep her relaxed during this time’.

You had your own experience of bleeding a bit during your own pregnancy, so you could understand the doctor’s worry and you hoped that she’d be fine, saying so to Ivar as you explained that it was totally fine.

And that it wouldn’t have been a problem for you to cancel your planed for Thanksgiving.

You’d just have to postpone the meeting with Aslaug to another day.

‘… actually, about that…’ the tip of his tongue seemed heavy, almost slurring his words ‘… I don’t want to… it won’t cange anything… Freydis won’t simply be with us’.

You were extremely surprised by that admission as you tried to understand, why would Ivar come with you to his mother, when his pregnant fiancée was troubled with her pregnancy.

Although you knew it wasn’t your place

And Ivar seemed to feel your question.

‘I have tried… to tell Freydis that I feel more comfortable staying, but she won’t… she says that I am a fretting animal whenever she is sick… so she told me that it’d be better for health if I visit my mom’ Ivar’s voice was calm, almost as if he thought that Freydis’ request was normal and he accepted it easily.

Which contrasted perfectly with the way you remembered Ivar.

Back when you had been nothing more than a couple of friends, Ivar was always worried whenever you got minimally sick, although he was extremely grumpy about it, since he could be quite difficult with his emotions.

Once you had needed a small daily check-up at the hospital, and Ivar had literally hounded your bed, although your mother had been right there with you, leaving you two alone, as soon as she had noticed Ivar and that he wouldn’t back it up.

So, it felt strange that Ivar, the big and tough alpha man he had been taught to be, didn’t even try to protest against Freydis’ choice, when she was much pregnant with his pup and when she was the love of his life.

… unless…

… unless she wasn’t truly the love of his life.

But this was your idiotic brain trying to ease the slight and irrational jealousy you had been feeling, which had started when you had met Freydis and your heart had started beating again for Ivar.

But you were aware that it wasn’t useful in the slightest.

It hadn’t worked the first time.

Why would it work this time?

‘… I know that I seem awful’ he read your mind ‘… but Freydis will have a friend coming over to check on her and I think that I’ll stay till lunch and then go back home, immediately. She’ll let me know if anything bad will happen’.

In the end Ivar’s tone seemed extremely honest and you didn’t feel like mingling in his own relationship’s issues, aware that although you shared a son, you certainly didn’t have any more right to share his life and to know his own private details.

‘I can come and pick you up, if you don’t want to travel alone’ you proposed, although you regretted the words the moment you voiced them, knowing that they broke the second rule you had given yourself that week.

‘Don’t come too close to Ivar’.

No matter what.

And not again.

‘… that’d be nice’ his own voice held surprise and for a moment you almost expected him to reject the idea, insisting on that awfully toxic idea that he was an independent man who needed nobody’s help.

But he surprised you.

‘… I would actually like it, if you aren’t bothered by driving. I can pay for gas’.

‘There is no need for it’ you muttered lightly ‘… you already paid the medical bill this week’.

Which had been great, since you had been able to arrive to another month without adding some further debt to your whole life, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but question yourself and your decision.

Had you been a good mother?

Could have Ivar given Eric more?

‘… well, we’ll see tomorrow’ he commented and you could already picture that small smirk he had on his face in that moment, sure that he’d win also this argument, but not without a fight ‘… in the meanwhile, I’ll go to sleep to wake up tomorrow at 7 a.m. and you can swing in here by 8… or I can come to you…’.

‘I’ll come to you’ you suggested since Ivar’s house was on the road for Aslaug’s house a two hour ride that you had studied alongside other details about how much you remembered of the house and whether it was proper or not to nominate Ragnar in front of the whole family.

Sigurd had helped with a few things, although he had told you he wouldn’t be there on, since he had better things to do, which meant he had small Thanksgiving gig in a bar in the city.

And free alcohol as a payment could be quite convincing.

After receiving all the news of that night, you also should have indulged yourself in a glass of wine.

But you wanted to wake up at a decent hour tomorrow.

With no hangover, again.

In the end you went to check on Eric, finding him effectively asleep, which surprised you since he could be reckless and wouldn’t go to sleep till all his energy was out of his body, and today he had been quite excited to meet his grandma.

He must have taken your suggestion about ‘going to sleep earlier, to make the morning come faster’ seriously, something that made you smirk a bit as you gently moved to collect his crutches left on the floor, gently caressing his dark hair, as you kissed his forehead.

In the end, although your heart was slowly breaking, it was all worth it.

Overthinking comprehended.

---

Ivar had been truly worried about leaving Freydis alone.

Although it seemed more something that he did to avoid others’ judgement than for his own worry.

Almost as if he knew he shouldn’t have left her, and deep down he felt bad about leaving her…

… but it wasn’t for the right motives.

It was guilt, not love, making him act like that.

And he was sure that that should tell him much about his relationship with Freydis.

Lately he had been questioning it, although he knew he was toying a dangerous line, even more when their wedding was so close, since Freydis had chosen to pull it closer since she would have soon been ‘heavy with his child’ and she didn’t want that to ruin the wedding.

He had suggested that they simply postponed to after her pregnancy, but Freydis had literally shot him a murderous glare and he hadn’t said much more than telling her that she wouldn’t have looked ugly even ‘heavy with his child’.

The entire expression had made him uneasy, not solely for the way she had expressed the pregnancy as a negative aspect.

Pregnancy could be difficult on women, since it changed their bodies.

But he was sure she’d look amazingly all full with his child, swollen up and gorgeous, glowing of the pregnancy brightness that would have made her solely pretty.

It had undoubtedly made you gorgeous, from the photos he had seen of your pregnancy.

And he was anxious of staying by her side for such a journey, as he hadn’t been able to do the same with you.

And also the way she pushed on the ‘his child’ part, almost as if she wanted to convince somebody and it had made him nervous, although he tried not to measure every word she had spoken, because it’d drive him mad.

Lately he had been feeling more and more like he had been picking out at every word from Freydis’ mouth.

And not for her own sake, but for his, something that was absolutely awful for an engaged couple and when Freydis’ scare had caught up to him that afternoon he had thought that although it might seem selfish, he needed some time away from her.

Simply to recharge himself and change the mentality he had been having, since he was bringing himself to insanity, judging Freydis in a way that on the long run would have been hurtful.

Even more when she had sacrificed so much to be with him, constantly showing him that she loved him, desperately.

And he thought he felt the same.

But he couldn’t deny that since you and Eric had come back, he had felt the flame of your relationship rekindle, and although at first he had thought it was simply the effect of seeing you again after all this year…

… now he seemed stuck in a limbo.

He had never truly closed the things with you.

Although he had pretended that day of not wanting you anymore, he hadn’t felt in the slightest what his words meant.

It was supposed to be just a stupid dare.

His brothers had been jealous of the close relationships that was forming between you and him, truly impressed by the fact that you two had had sex, and they had dared him, starting from Bjorn, to break up with you for a day.

‘… to see if she suffers, to see if you are… her true love…’ had joked his stepbrother, a lazy smirk on his face, and although Ivar shouldn’t have, at the time he considered his older brother cooler and although he wouldn’t have admitted it to his face, not then and not now…

… he did most of the time what he told him to.

Hvitserk had agreed on the plan, meanwhile both Ubbe and Sigurd had been skeptic, Ubbe eventually joining in, sure that it would have been ‘a fun joke’ and that you would have debunked it immediately, meanwhile Sigurd had just kept to himself, telling Ivar that he was ‘a fucking asshole’ for doing this to you.

And that he’d have suffered greatly for this idiocy.

And he had been right, for once.

After the ‘fake break up’ you had distanced yourself from him, pushing him away in a way that had made him almost self-conscious toward other relationships and when college had rolled around, with a broken heart he had moved away, hoping that the distance would have healed it.

But neither that nor time had brought some relief to him.

He had had his fair share of girls in college: he might have been a prick and a cripple, but money and status clearly brought all the girls to him, but it had never felt like with you.

And he had never felt truly attracted to them.

Something that on the long run had just made him lose his own virility and sex, unable to even simply get it up, no matter the fact that he thought that the girl in bed with him was hot as hell.

She might have been the prettiest woman in the world, but she wasn’t you.

Something that he had never told the sexual therapist he had been seeing for Freydis’ joy, because the doctor would have for sure told him to get back with you, if he wanted an healthy sexual life.

Which wouldn’t happen for sure.

Mostly because you had made it very clear that you would have preferred being thrown in a dumpster than sleep with him.

But he couldn’t deny the thought of not feeling truly comfortable with anybody else, other than him, having you the way he did long ago.

He was jealous of all the imaginary lovers you could have had.

But he justified as simple worry for Eric’s wellbeing.

But he was aware that you wouldn’t have done anything bad for him.

That was why the flame of the past burned bright in his chest.

He had seen you go from a beautiful girl to a gorgeous mother, a journey that echoed on your skin and although you weren’t comfortable in it, like Freydis, you didn’t hide it, showing Eric as your pride and glory.

And he felt the same towards the boy.

He was the sole thing good that he had done.

… alongside Freydis’ baby.

He laid a soft kiss on the slight bump at that thought, meanwhile Freydis gently turned to latch out on him half-awake and half-asleep, as she mumbled a small and chewy ‘… goodmorning’, and Ivar gently moved his nose up her figure, reaching her face, which he peppered in kisses.

It was more a mechanic gesture than a proper one.

But still Freydis didn’t seem to notice the difference, for which he was grateful.

He hoped that a few hours of freedom would make him realize what he had been missing and why Freydis was the one he was supposed to be with.

And not you.

“… I am going, if you think that you are feeling well enough” he mumbled, as he looked at the clock, a quarter past 8, her friend was supposed to be there in a few minutes and he wanted to check on who she was, but Freydis simply nodded her head almost eager to see him gone “… are you sure?”.

He seemed to be not the only that would have enjoyed his freedom.

“Yeah yeah, you overbearing bear” she muttered, almost annoyedly, hiding her face in the pillow, as her long hair spilled on her naked back “… just go, I wouldn’t want mama bear to be worried”.

He grimaced at the veiled insult that Freydis had muttered, but didn’t say anymore, instead gently caressed her hair away, checking her face and her temperature, both seeming healthy, although he was still a bit worried.

If not for Freydis fully, at least for the child she was carrying.

The doctor had assured them that it wasn’t anything wrong.

It was common to bleed through the pregnancy, mostly during stressful periods, which did match with Freydis’ current situation and her crazy wedding planning.

The doctor, himself, had suggested that she took it easy and maybe hired someone to help, and this plan had been explicitly encouraged by Ivar, but she had insisted on doing everything on her own, although she had reassured Ivar that she’d take it with much more calm.

“… isn’t your friend supposed to be here already?” he muttered softly, not wanting to leave her alone, but knowing that in a few minutes you’d be there, since your anxious personality always made you arrive a bit earlier.

Freydis shook lightly her head, and turned to him, again sleepy with her lids hazily closed as a hand came to her chest.

“… my mom is coming, just give her time!” she replied, stretching on the empty bed, but Ivar couldn’t help but hear intensified her words, surprised that Freydis had called her mother, truly, when she had said a ‘friend’.

“… your mom?” he asked, unsure if he had heard right “… I thought… you said a friend”.

Freydis bit her lip and Ivar immediately noticed the gesture, unable to feel like it was a gesture that his fiancée did whenever she was nervous.

And it was starting to happen more and more.

And he was starting to have his doubts.

“No no” she mumbled, slightly pushing herself to have her back against the plush headboard of their shared bed “… I must have been so tired that I mixed up the names… sorry… it is my mom”.

“I thought you didn’t like your family” he could feel the way she was starting to feel more and more nervous with his comment that hid questions, but at the same time she hadn’t been very talkative in the family department and he had just assumed she didn’t like them.

Again, that lip-biting and a little look at her phone, with shone with a number appearing on it, and under it the name ‘mom’.

… Gosh, he was low key losing it.

“I just… I just thought that I might want to be closer to them, at least for the baby” she explained softly, her voice thoughtful as she took a deep breath “… my mom wasn’t that bad, also, I just… grew distant after I went to college”.

Which made sense.

And maybe Ivar was becoming quite more suspicious for something that was completely harmless.

… he was just overthinking the entire situation.

Trying to find faults, when it wasn’t Freydis’ in the slightest.

“… still I’d like to know your mother” he knew better than to come between a child and a mother, but he would have preferred to know her before allowing her near his child, although Freydis trusted her “… invite her over for tonight, we’ll have a small dinner with together, to celebrate and to thank her for staying with you”.

He didn’t want to prod more and Freydis’ face rewarded him with a small smile as she brought him for a long, long goodbye kiss, that not even the notification of a message in his phone, probably from you, stopped her from ending.

He kissed her one last time, and then left her grabbing quickly his travel bag since he had a few things to bring to his mother, a few toys he had brought as a gift to Eric and even a small gift card for you, although he knew that there was no true occasion.

But he felt like it was a nice gesture.

He checked the message as he closed the door behind himself, realizing that it was indeed you, assuring that you were early and would be waiting for him outside, Eric having also stolen the phone from you to send him a photo of himself.

And Ivar snapped one of himself, as he grabbed onto the crutch he had for emergencies, although he didn’t use it too much, but his mother would have gotten an heart-attack if she hadn’t seen him with a crutch, at least.

No matter the fact that she stored a lot more in their house.

And at the start of the week she had even gone as far as to ask whether she had to get some for Eric, for you know… emergencies and such.

‘… Ivar, I am serious!’ she had protested once, when Ivar had started laughing at her worried tone on the phone ‘… I want that sweet boy to be at the most ease, in my house’.

‘Mom, (Y/N) will probably bring crutches if he needs it and you buying some would only make her even more nervous. And let me tell you: she is already terrified by you’ he had explained, because although his mother was important for him, he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable with her.

And neither he wanted Freydis to be.

Although, unlike with you, there wasn’t much that could be done with Freydis, since both the women had closed off the option of a possible relationship between each other, which made it difficult to even feel something for the other.

You, instead, had always wanted to be loved.

You cared too much for people’s opinion, no matter the fact that sometimes you just couldn’t be liked by everyone.

And he couldn’t help but to think that was probably how your friendship had started back then.

He made you wait just a few more minutes, moving in your car, although he noted to himself that had he ever had trouble choosing a Christmas gift for you, he should have definitely gone with a new vehicle, since the poor thing you drove looked ready to kill itself from any moment.

He sat behind with Eric, to have more space for his legs and be more comfortable, as you pushed forward the car seat to allow him more space, meanwhile Eric saluted him from the car booster seat, smiling as Ivar moved to kiss his forehead, as you checked from the front mirror.

“… do you have everything you need?” you asked, softly, meanwhile you tried to start up the car and for a moment Ivar thought of suggesting you took his car, although he knew that it might have been difficult to use since it was set up for his needs.

“Yeah, don’t worry” he replied, as he adjusted himself, pushing the safety belt to click in its place “… is everything alright with you, two?”.

“Oh yeah, Eric is literally the most excited about today” and although you maintained a cheerful tone, it was obvious that you were nervous, although your eyes were hidden by sunglasses “… he woke me up at 6 a.m.”.

And now he understood the need for the sunglasses.

Eric clapped his hands, unable to stop himself from giggling loudly, and Ivar couldn’t help but find it adorable gently mimicking him much to your grimace.

But a light smirk appeared on your face as you pushed yourself away from the parking lot, setting up the map on your phone.

“Can we put music on, mom?” asked Eric, who looked like he could have fought anybody off, in that same moment “… please, please, pleeeeaseee”.

“Ok ok” you mumbled, before shooting a look at Ivar “… if your dad doesn’t mind”.

It felt strange, the way you said it.

For once you hadn’t called him Ivar and neither ‘he’, but ‘your dad’ almost as if you had recognized his role in Eric’s life.

Which wasn’t an easy and quick feat.

And he appreciated it.

“I don’t think I have much choice” he muttered softly, as he shot you a quick look, seeing your reaction on the mirror of the car, again that soft smile, barely there, but it was there.

“… truly, when you are a parent, you have none”.

---

The trip had been quiet.

Although Eric had moved himself around at the beat of the music for a few minutes, he had eventually drifted off to sleep and neither you nor Ivar had had the heart to wake him up, instead drifting off in a mindless chatter between you two, meanwhile you driver to your destination.

You had also confessed him that you, yourself, had had some problematic bleeding during your time with Eric, telling him that it was natural and that rest in most cases was the best way to go.

And Ivar explained to you that she’d have her mother over, some kind of dubiousness in his words, but again you didn’t dare sticking your nose in his thoughts and problems, instead telling him that during pregnancy you had indeed grown closer to your mother.

A lump in your throat appeared as you thought about your father instead.

It seemed that the women of your family were cursed with men that wouldn’t simply stick.

But meanwhile Ivar was doing his best to be there for his son, your father had left once it had gotten hard, pushing you and Eric away, something that made you a bit sad, and you were almost glad for Ivar’s comfortable presence.

You might have felt uncomfortable for the crush you had been harboring for him, but some things had never changed and the complicity you had always shared had remained and you were thankful for it, now that both your souls had grown quieter and reconciled.

Ivar guided you to his past house, although you had memorized the road when you were ten and could have still reached it blindly.

But you let Ivar think that you had forgotten some things.

Once you were set up in the free parking lot, having arrived first, Ivar woke up softly Eric a gesture that made your heart clench a bit, because although Ivar wasn’t known for being the most emotional man you knew, he was just so gentle with his son.

And the sole thought of it, somehow, hurt you.

You got out of the car, asking Ivar if he could buckle up Eric back in his braces, as you got the few things out of the car to be able to lose as little of time as you could.

Ivar did it quickly, meanwhile Eric still clang on him, half asleep, making you smirk softly, steadying himself against your pants, as Ivar grabbed his travel bag and you your own trolley, spending a few extra minutes to lock the car.

Because you were extremely nervous.

Although you had no reason to be.

Aslaug didn’t need to examine you, as a girlfriend or as a mother.

But you still… felt uneasy at the thought of disappointing her.

And Ivar noticed it.

He gently pushed his hand onto your back, not too close to be truly intimate neither too strong to be possessive, but it was calming and you shot him back a slight thankful smile, as Eric, again shy, hid behind you both, leaning on your trolley.

And then Ivar rang the door.

And before you could say anything to comfort Eric and yourself, the door was opened.

It revealed a graceful woman, in an elegant set of comfortable clothes, a pair of pastel sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt, something that you hadn’t thought you had ever seen the prim and proper woman wear.

But that wasn’t the sole surprise.

She obviously immediately focused her eyes on Ivar and you were glad of it, although it was almost awkward to stand there, but you endured it gladly, happy not to have the attention on you.

Which didn’t last.

Because once she got up from hugging Ivar, she moved her attention towards you and you were also enveloped in a tight hug, the entire gesture contrasting so much with her ice queen persona that you remembered that it sent you in sensory overload.

And you were glad that it finished pretty quickly, making you smile at the woman as she softly saluted you.

‘… oh gods, it has been so so long since I last saw you” she commented softly, shooting you a quick look “… and you look like not a single day has passed”.

“You also do look the same” you replied tightly, surprised by her warm personality, but soon Aslaug’s attention shifted away from you and onto Eric, hiding himself behind you both, as the older woman crunched down to be at eye-level with Eric.

“… and who is this handsome young man?” she asked with a soft smile, as Eric gained a bit of confidence with all those compliments, moving forward and holding out an hand for Aslaug, as you had told him to do.

The older woman, already on the verge of a crying attack, accepted it welcomingly, commenting how much he looked like his father as a baby.

‘… but you do seem much nicer’ she joked, as she gently lead him inside, checking with you if you were comfortable, to which you nodded, because although you had been unsure about all of this, you couldn’t help but be sweetened up by Aslaug’s soft gestures.

Ivar shot you an amused look as he moved inside, pushing the travel bag to sling over his shoulders, so that it wouldn’t annoy him with his braces, as you moved inside.

As soon as you were inside a storm of memories caught you, unable to truly ever forget the many things that had happened there, the many adventures that you had gone through thanks to the Lothbrocks.

And although there were many things you regretted…

… this wasn’t one of those.

“… it didn’t change in the slightest” you breathed out, as you took in the vintage furniture, matched with pastel fabrics that made it seem like a mixture between an haunted house and a magical castle.

“Mom wouldn’t agree” commented Ivar as you both reached the cloakroom to deposit your coats and to leave there your luggage “… she says that everything has changed since we have gone away”.

“Don’t make me think about it!” you muttered, shooting an ironic look at the roof, meanwhile Ivar giggled with overexaggerated annoyance.

“He is only five!” he reminded you, and you shot back a glare that told him ‘he just wouldn’t understand’ “… you, moms, are all the same: overthinking everything and everyone”.

“Don’t even try to talk ‘momma’s boy’ “you taunted him, and again you were right in between that friendship and that crush stadiums of your relationships that made moments like this irresistible and the most difficult for you.

“… my lips are sealed” muttered gingerly Ivar, although he moved to distance himself from you, clearly showing his uneasiness to this, something for which you were grateful.

And you both moved to the kitchen where Aslaug had brought Eric, making sure that he did a second breakfast in full fashion, completely spoiling his child and looking at him with a curiosity that made it seem like she was examining a strange animal.

You had had a small talk with Eric to explain him who Aslaug was and how to behave with her, promoting a more rigid behavior, that might have been not what was proper actually for the welcoming they had received.

“… I hope you didn’t mind that I gave him something” and with ‘something’ she probably meant half of the food in her kitchen “… I am used to my boys being quite hungry”.

You tried not to grimace at the ‘my boys’, but still chastised Eric a bit, not wanting to deny him the food he needed, but if he ate all those things not only he would have been on a sugar high by this afternoon, but he also might have not eaten anything at Thanksgiving lunch.

And yet you noticed the unsure look on Aslaug’s face, reminding you one of your own when you had been the young girl, waiting for her examination.

And although you knew it wasn’t proper, you almost snickered with yourself for it.

“… don’t worry” you simply commented, dabbing almost possessively Eric’s lips, trying to gain some control back, as you showed Aslaug that although you appreciated her concern and gentleness, you were Eric’s mother.

And she seemed to understand it as she distanced herself lightly, focusing her attention on her son.

And noticing solely now that Freydis was indeed missing.

‘Where is she?’ she asked, with a light scrunching of her eyebrows, which you recognized as ‘the look of disappointment’ otherwise known as the ‘I am judging you’ face.

And for a moment you didn’t want to be in Freydis’ place.

“She has had some problem with the pregnancy” immediately Aslaug’s eyes tightened on him, evidently worried “… she has been bleeding a bit, and although the doctor has told us that it isn’t anything worrying, he said to avoid stress”.

And facing a mother-in-law like Aslaug could be quite stressful.

So, you didn’t blame her.

“… and why aren’t you with her?” her voice was slightly lowered, not to be heard by a rather disinterested Eric, his gaze focused on trying to steal a few more handmade cookies, which you tried out for yourself, and you had to say that Aslaug certainly hadn’t lost her touch.

And you hoped they weren’t poisoned.

“Mom…” Ivar’s voice was indeed a bit annoyed “… she insisted about remaining home and I didn’t leave her alone, she is with her mom”.

This comforted you and Aslaug, honestly, as the woman moved her gaze onto Eric, who had finally shifted his focus on his grandma, suddenly having woken up fully from the food and tiredness nap he had been having.

“… so… you are my other grandma?”.

You were tempted to almost facepalm yourself, because if Eric had inherited one bad trait from Ivar it was his uneasy bluntness and you couldn’t help but blush a bit, almost worried of Aslaug’s reaction.

She had recognized your role as a mother, and she had even hugged you.

And then your child went like and literally called her ‘his other grandma’.

She was probably already questioning your parenting skills and…

… and she started laughing, loudly.

And you and Ivar soon joined, Ivar more truly than you, who croaked almost as a newborn bird, meanwhile Eric looked at you all, as if the inside joke you had said wasn’t funny and he wasn’t getting it, till Aslaug softly moved an hand towards his smaller one and muttered softly.

“Yes, sweetheart” she muttered softly, as she reached out to straighten up his hair, as he brought them away “… I am grandma, Aslaug”.

“Oh, that is a cool name!” Eric chanted, looking with bright eyes at your grandma “… like the name of the princess Ragnar marries!”

Not even the mention of Ragnar was enough to make a soft smile disappear from Aslaug’s face, as she did nod and confirm that ‘it was the same name indeed’, before she shot you a quick laugh, embarrassment written on her face.

And insecurities.

You encouraged her with a soft smile, and she asked you whether she could play a bit with Eric, outside.

‘It shouldn’t be too cold’ she explained ‘… and don’t worry… I have set up a small table and a few things for him…’.

You couldn’t help but be extremely warmed up by the way Aslaug seemed to already care for Eric, although your uneasiness was still there, constantly worried that these people might leave Eric’s life, leaving him heartbroken.

But you also knew that although Aslaug was an ice queen, she was truthful in every little gesture of her.

And when she swore, she meant it.

Ivar had definitely taken that after her.

‘Mom can I go?’ insisted Eric, shooting you a deep look, as you moved to lay a soft kiss on his forehead, before you allowed them both to go outside, sending him a light smirk as Aslaug smiled at you gratefully.

‘… just wear a jacket and an hat!’.

Ivar who had watched carefully the scene, laughed again at your worry, but you caught the way he attentively looked outside to make sure that everything was indeed Eric-proofed, although he shouldn’t have doubted his mother.

Since she had been through that with her own son.

You wondered whether she was so immediately attracted by Eric because of the similarity with Ivar.

But you didn’t have too much time to mind to these things, because suddenly there was a ring to the door and your small safe haven was becoming a crowded family function.

Shit, you were nervous again.

Ivar’s brothers now did know that you and Ivar had a child together.

He had told them after you had agreed to be there on Thanksgiving day, and he had taken it upon himself to contact them to give them the news, since you had both agreed that it would have been awkward to discover it in that moment.

Although you honestly hoped you could keep that secret for a bit more.

You weren’t ashamed of Eric or of having Ivar back in your life, although it was simply as a co-parent to your five-year-old, but you knew perfectly that Ivar’s brothers had always had a certain image of you.

An image that even after all this bullshit you felt like you had to upheld.

And you couldn’t, anymore.

And you hadn’t ever told this to Ivar, when you were together, but you hadn’t ever felt truly comfortable with his brothers.

Hvitserk was okay, although he was a bit too flirty for you, but he had taken the hint once you had threatened him of cutting his ‘beloved friends’ off and Sigurd was nice, although he could be twice as childish as Ivar, sending you the demo of many of his songs, expecting you to listen to them in a few minutes.

But they were ok.

You did dislike Ubbe, since you couldn’t help but feel at unease with him, although he was the calmer of the brothers, but you couldn’t help but think about the infamous ‘look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it’ phrase.

Although you didn’t personally know much, since you had moved away, you had heard many rumors about him, and his numerous affairs, ending up his marriage with Margrethe, ruining the poor girl, and ending up marrying his brother’s wife.

If this wasn’t a scandal straight from a telenovela, you didn’t know what to call it.

But who you truly disliked was Bjorn.

He was the older son and thankfully he was their stepbrother, so he wasn’t around much time.

He had quite some toxic behaviors, starting from being a serial cheater and not a believer in monogamy, going on with the fact that he left whenever it got too hard, and although he wouldn’t be there for that lunch (which was a relief) you still didn’t like his presence.

And you secretly, not so much, hoped not to meet him.

He had been the most against your relationship with Ivar.

He had been constantly telling Ivar that he was losing out on being in a relationship at his age, but Ivar hadn’t cared much for his words, although you knew that he looked up at Bjorn almost like an hawk as if in that way he could steal his place as Ragnar’s heir.

But back in the time you hadn’t said much.

Ivar’s relationship with his brothers was already broken up by jealousy and the typical emotional angst, so you hadn’t wanted to add much more.

But now… having to face both Hvitserk and Ubbe, who brought Torvi with himself, they made you bit your tongue both for anxiety…

… and both to keep inside your words.

You felt a stranger left in the kitchen as Ivar opened the door, welcomed them inside with snarky remarks and sarcastic comebacks, but you could almost smell their interest and curiosity for you.

Ivar had told you they had taken the news well, but Sigurd had told you that both Ubbe and Bjorn had freaked out terribly in the chat, muttering things about your child and about the fact that Ivar was ‘stupid’ for taking it in so easily, without testing yourds.

Hvitserk had been the only one welcoming it, already muttering all the things he’d teach your child as his ‘favorite uncle’.

If Ubbe and Bjorn kept on acting like that, he and Sigurd would have soon been Eric’s sole uncles.

You wouldn’t have let your child grow up in such a disrespect.

You understood their uneasiness at your revelation, but you had expected some more confidence, because although you hadn’t been friends, truly, you had grown up together.

And Ubbe, himself, shouldn’t have muttered much after he had adopted the sons of another man, after he had ‘stolen’ away his bride.

Was there something truly different in what he had done and in what Ivar was doing with Eric?

But you reigned in your sourness, welcoming them inside the kitchen with a smile.

And for the first time in his life, Hvitserk moved to you immediately, ignoring completely the sweet treats on the table, laid out solely for his enjoyment, since Eric and Aslaug, the only one who would have dared to stop him, were outside, overlooked from the windows of the kitchen by Ivar.

He hugged you so tightly that he swung you off the chair you were comfortably sat on, making you giggle at his affectionate antics, before he hounded you to know where ‘his little nephew was’.

“… Gosh, I still can’t believe that Ivar was the one to forget about the condom rule, among all of us” now you were definitely embarrassed and Ivar shot an annoyed look at him, telling him to back off “… but I am glad that you are back here!”.

“Apparently I couldn’t run away that far” you commented, meaning for it to be ironical, but there was some truth behind it, and Ivar noticed it, his eyes growing a bit darker, as Hvitserk’s attention finally caught the cookies on the table.

And you were left dealing with Torvi and Ubbe.

The woman presented herself to you, since you didn’t know her if not from what you had heard from Ivar and Sigurd.

She was quite nice with you, at least being polite and gentle, and Ubbe was simply nice, something in his straight and tight pose making it difficult for you to feel relaxed and not awkward.

But still… you survived it.

And were glad to simply settle back in the background noise, meanwhile the brotherly chatter began, and you moved to Ivar’s side by the windows, noticing that Aslaug was trying to teach Eric some gardening.

‘She will get along quickly with my mom’ you muttered ‘… she works with a florist these days’.

“She has taken to gardening after we all went away…” there was something almost nostalgic in his voice “… as with yoga, pilates and a few hundred other hobbies… she always wonder why we are so restless and she blames it onto Ragnar, but the truth is…”

Now a proud smile lighted up Ivar’s gorgeous face, showing you the growth that he had gone through in those years where you hadn’t seen each other.

“… the truth is that she has a wild streak in herself”.

You were surprised by the door opening one more time, signaling that another guest had been welcomed, a guest you hadn’t expected as everyone else in the room.

The awkward silence intensifying in the room, as Ragnar walked in.

A grimace on his face as if he hadn’t expected everyone to look at him like an annoying mosquito, something that was quite evident in both his eldest and his youngest, meanwhile Hvitserk was still focused on the cookies.

Which you did also.

You were definitely much more uncomfortable now, but at the same time you felt a bit unrelated to all this family drama, glad when Aslaug walked in, to make Eric wash his hands, evidently having noticed that quite some time had already passed.

She noticed Ragnar and concealed quite well the surprise in her eyes, simply muttering a few orders at her children, meanwhile Eric ran to you, and you tried to isolate yourself asking him what he had been doing and what Aslaug had taught him.

Ivar also came closer, crouching down at his side, and that was what caught Ragnar’s eyes as he noticed the small family that had formed before his eyes, after he had exchanged a few unpleasant and rigid comments with his sons.

“… I thought you were with blondie” the comment was insensitive on so many aspects.

But when had Ragnar ever been attentive with Ivar?

Aslaug had smothered him, and Ragnar had tried, the few time he was in his life, to reverse the whole project with a steely discipline and a barely concealed disdain for Ivar’s disability.

“… none of your business, dad” Ivar muttered, pointing out each word, as you gently tried to lead Eric away from the confrontation that was soon to erupt, Aslaug noticing it and taking you with her, to find a vase for the flowers she and Eric had picked.

And you exchanged a soft smile with her, thankful for the distraction.

And as Eric roamed for the storage room, under your watchful eyes, choosing a proper vase, you muttered a gentle ‘thank you’.

‘… I…’ the words burned on Aslaug’s tongue, and you definitely felt like that was another thing Ivar had for sure inherited by her “… think I am the one who should say ‘thank you’ this time, this time, actually… and sorry”.

You were surprised but didn’t try to stop that discourse.

“… I didn’t mean to be horrid to you” she explained “… I never… thought you were, I actually was just worried about Ivar’s heart… although it wasn’t… my business”.

“I…” you knew that you should have said something like ‘don’t worry’ or ‘it isn’t a problem’, but you just felt like hiding behind pretty words wouldn’t have helped you, even more in this situation with Aslaug “… apologies accepted”.

She smiled brightly at you.

“… I know… that this isn’t a proper situation and Ivar and you have much more to discuss, but…” her mutter was almost the one of a scared child “… I’d like to be present in Eric’s life, if you ever need an help… I do know of your mother…”.

“I hope not to sound rude, but…” your tone was light and at the same time heavy “… it is just… I need a bit of time. I handled this alone, with only my mom on my side for so long, and now it is just strange to have all these people around you…”.

Aslaug nodded, although she wasn’t able to shed the sadness from her face.

But then you reached out for her hand.

“… but with time, I do hope to let you in” you softened your tone “… Eric needs his family with him”.

And she smiled the absolute brightest, right as Eric came back with the biggest vase.

“Can we use this?!”.

---

Ivar had always loved Ragnar, as a child.

He had seen him as his own hero, the sole he could relate to and the sole he could trust, but moving on with years and Ragnar’s numerous disappearances, the love and admiration had become distrust and hate.

For a father that had never wanted him.

But Ragnar still had his own influence on him.

Starting from the fact that for a long time children had been a very touchy subject for him and one more reason why he had chosen the fertilization in vitro.

To avoid his children developing any pathologies, like him.

Ragnar had wanted Aslaug to abort him.

It was a truth that Ivar had learned when he was fourteen, hormones full blown and annoyed at everything, once overhearing one of the many fights going on between Ragnar and Aslaug.

Since he was ten year old, Ragnar used his mother’s house as an hotel, constantly checking in and out, maybe playing with his sons for a little time, but many other times he’d tell them his magical journeys and stories.

And most of the time, it’d end up with Ragnar screaming at Aslaug.

And her screaming back at him.

Once, when they had gotten quite heated, mostly because Aslaug had told him that she was tired of taking care of his child with no help form him whatsoever, Ragnar had shot back that maybe she should have aborted Ivar when she had the time.

And Ivar, ‘Ivar The Boneless’, as his brothers always nicknamed him, had cried for an entire afternoon, after hearing that.

But this hadn’t shattered Ivar’s heart, not yet.

He had followed his father as a puppy, and he remembered the way many fights had erupted between you two for that, because of Ivar’s faithful behavior to somebody who didn’t deserve it.

Going to college and distancing himself from both his parents, he had learned that what you had complained about had been true, and his relationship with his father had been much more distanced, although he worked in the family business.

But he was trying to form his own legacy.

Hence Ragnar’s presence just brought him back in the past.

And he hated the feeling of being inferior that he felt.

He had been feeling so well, with the knowledge of yours and Aslaug’s relationship, mending as he noticed the desperate happiness in his mother’s eyes at finally meeting her first grandchild.

… he was indeed having a good time, without overthinking the whole ‘Freydis-You-Eric’ situation but now another thing was added to that dangerous math.

“Isn’t she…” Ragnar scratched the back of his head, as if it helped with remembering “… your old best friend? And how old is the child? Did you seriously hide a child for so long?”.

His tone was joking, but strangely arrogant and Ivar wondered if Heahmund felt that way when Ivar spoke to him.

… maybe he should have apologized.

Because he was extremely annoyed by Ragnar’s behavior.

“Which part of ‘none of your business’ don’t you understand?” he shot back, and Ragnar seemed seriously hit, his movements a bit slowed down probably from the few shots of tequila he had taken before coming here.

“I am just… I am…” the words weren’t slurred, but he was fully drunk, although his chain of reason seemed quite clouded by whatever he had taken “… you are my children you are my business”.

He shot a small look at all ‘his children’ in the room, trying to regain some sympathy but it wasn’t much useful, since they all were on Ivar’s side for once.

Both Hvitserk and Ubbe were neutral to his father, but this didn’t mean that they would have ever taken his side, even more as grown-ups.

“… we stopped being your business, after we were five and I got chicken pox and you were on the other part of the world, screwing somebody, meanwhile mom took care of four children all by herself” commented Hvitserk, something that definitely put Ragnar in great unease, not knowing how to react at that.

Not that he had to, since his son returned to eating, but it was clear that there was a quite some distance between him and his sons.

And Ivar didn’t like his presence even more, because he didn’t want Ragnar around Eric and neither did you, since you hadn’t known about it, having been assured that he wouldn’t be there.

But his father always found ways back to them.

His mother had never been able to fully delete him from their life and neither she had tried to delete him fully, at least for the sake of their children, and he couldn’t make it a fault to her, but he hoped his father would just take a hint.

“… I just… I just wanted a nice Thanksgiving” commented Ragnar, raising his hands as if to surrender anything he might have wanted “… with my family”.

And nobody could deny it.

Although they could make it true hell for him.

In the end the brothers decided to keep to themselves as Ragnar stood in the middle of the room rather awkwardly, meanwhile you and Aslaug returned in that moment with a vase that was bigger than Eric, the small boy trumping happily between the two women, as Aslaug and you shared a few interesting botanical facts.

He wished he could see the same happening with Freydis.

But he tried to make his thoughts quiet, not truly knowing how to deal with Eric and Ragnar, so for now he just tried to act the best way possible, meanwhile he helped ‘his little man’ with the vase.

“… no no, Dad! I am strong like Thor!” protested loudly Eric, but you did send Ivar a look as if to say ‘do check on him’, meanwhile Aslaug adjusted the flowers, the other brothers quickly finding excuses to disperse from the kitchen: Hvitserk going to the bathroom and Ubbe and Torvi going to his old room, so that they could do a few calls.

He had hoped Ragnar would get a hint too, but he didn’t.

And he came close to Eric, as the child sat down to help his grandma and you, your eyes immediately trained on Ragnar, who sent you a small smile, probably not recognizing you fully, although he had indeed recognized you as Ivar’s ‘best friend’.

You didn’t look definitely happy to see Ragnar, but you didn’t let it be seen on your face, although you were attentive with the way Ragnar moved closer to your son.

Because he wasn’t certainly an idiot, and he must have done the math to realize that the child was Ivar’s, no matter the amount of alcohol and drugs that he had put in his system to numb it.

“… hi” he muttered, as he came to Eric’s side, the boy’s eyes suddenly moving onto him, as he shot you a surprised look, again shyness in his eyes and Aslaug chastised Ragnar with a warning smile.

“Hi” replied Eric, as he turned to him, after you had lightly nodded, but still putting an hand on the back of your child, as Ivar came to your side, something that made you send him a soft thankful smile.

He couldn’t help but feel something deep inside him fall in love again with that smile.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked, as Eric shook his head, and Ragnar sent a look at Ivar, who sent one to you.

He hadn’t meant to make you live this situation, knowing perfectly well how much this would have made you nervous, because for sure you hadn’t expected to be surrounded by so many people and not only because he did remember that you were an introvert…

… but it must have been a big change to go from nobody knowing anything to everybody knowing about ‘your dirty little secret’.

But you decided to do your best to make something good out of an awful situation.

And you invited Ragnar to explain it to him, with a small look, that spoke the words ‘don’t fuck it up’.

“… I am your grandpa” commented the man, as Eric’s eyes became bright like stars, as he clapped his hands, strongly.

“Grandpa!” he called him excitedly “… do you want to come with me to my soccer games?”.

The question was so innocent and adorable that even Ragnar cracked up a tender smile as he nodded your hand, although he could totally feel you grimace at that, but you gave Eric your best smile, as Aslaug suggested that she got the vase set up, and you helped Eric washed his hands properly.

Effectively leaving Ivar and Ragnar alone.

You shot him a small look to check with him, before joining after Eric, and he wasn’t able to stop himself from thinking about the past and about how your constant support had meant so much for you.

And he had been stupid enough to take it for granted.

“Where did that one plop off?” commented loudly Ragnar, once you all were out of earshot, making Ivar grimace and for a minute he thought that he could have just ignored him and hoped he’d just ‘magically’ disappear.

Since he was so good at that.

But if Ivar had inherited something from him was that shit-eating attitude that would have stopped him from backing off and relenting, even when it was clear he had lost.

“… I discovered about him a few months ago” explained Ivar, trusting the fact that Ragnar wasn’t truly listening.

That he wasn’t truly interested in what he had to say.

Ragnar was only interested in what he, himself, had to say.

“… (Y/N), his mother, didn’t let me know about his existence till I found out, because she was sure I didn’t want him in my life…” which was strangely what had been happening with him in his family, so he couldn’t blame you truly for having had that thought “… turns out she was wrong”.

“So, you took him in” he spoke of Eric almost as if it was a charity case and Ivar had to hold back the rage in him “… that’s a good action, son”.

“I am trying to avoid becoming like you” he commented, a sneak attack at Ragnar who showed the sufferance of it but stabilized quickly “… abandoning the children that I fathered as if they were simple trash”.

“… but is this true?” he shot back, letting out an amused breath “… because I do think that you are following in my footsteps perfectly”.

“No, I am not” he ground out his teeth as he growled out the words.

“Then where is the pretty blonde I saw the last time?” Ragnar asked loudly “… and I don’t think that you are married with the mother of your child… so, I do think that you are handling them both… unsure of what to do”.

And this was damnably true.

“You know nothing” it was stupid, but he hoped it’d shut up the entire situation, because it was making him feel just worse.

Would he seriously end up like his father?

Old and with a myriad of problems?

He hoped not to.

He had wanted to become bigger than him, in his job, but he had also wanted to become better than him, family-wise, that was the reason behind his choice of Freydis.

Why he had let himself be convinced so easily in what sounded like the fairytale life.

But was it truly?

Even more when he felt so perfectly with you and Eric.

“… but I do” it was barely a whisper.

But Ivar didn’t have a good enough reply for that.

---

Ragnar’s appearance at the Thanksgiving lunch had undoubtedly put a bit of a damper on your mood, but you tried your best to take care of Eric, letting the baby interact with his grandpa.

Eric missed greatly your father and his grandfather.

Your grandfather had been extremely attached to Eric, and his disappearance had been so sudden that Eric had simply thought, for a whole week after he had run away, that he’d be back soon.

He had just gone on a trip.

And when the knowledge he wouldn’t have come back had settled in, Eric had grown much more silent, and he had kept this behavior till he had met again Ivar, developing again his cheery personality, for which you were thankful.

But at the same time, it made you worried.

And although Ragnar had been gentle with Eric, you didn’t exactly want him around your child, had his tendency to disappear kept on being present in his tumultuous soul.

Eric had had enough instability in his life, and you didn’t want to add much more.

But you had bigger problems at hand.

Hvitserk had been introduced to Eric and he kept on trying to teach him some dirty limericks, much to your, Aslaug’s and Ivar’s annoyance, who all shot him an annoyed glare.

But you were glad that Eric was having fun with his uncle and you were even gladder by the soft-spoken approach Hvitserk had been having about it, completely treating the situation as if it was completely normal.

Unlike Ubbe who kept on shooting attentive glances at the child.

But you ignored it, in favor of having a few chats with Aslaug and Torvi.

In the end, by the time the lunch was ready, you were definitely much more comfortable and although you tried to keep your bigger emotions at bay, you almost felt… involved in the family.

And you were unsure if it was a good thing or not.

You were glad for that environment for Eric, who was definitely at ease and happy.

You hoped you could keep the same thing up after Freydis had her own child, something that put you a bit at unease, not wanting to push yourself in a situation where you didn’t belong, knowing perfectly well how much care a newborn baby required from both parents…

… and although Ivar was handling quite well the situation…

… you hoped the new baby wouldn’t have been leading Ivar away from Eric, when they were both that close.

Although it was a selfish thought.

But for now, you tried to push away those awful thoughts.

And enjoyed the moment.

By lunchtime Eric had already gotten a few new toys by Ivar, something that had made you quirk a brow at the man himself, but he had just smirked slightly as if to say ‘what can I do about it’.

Well, if Eric was going to grow up as a spoiled brat, he’d have had to do something.

But for now, you enjoyed seeing your beloved Eric all happy and playful.

Aslaug was nice also, certainly having grown quite close to the child, although not much time had passed, but you had smiled with pride, as she had complimented you for the amazing education he had received…

‘… unlike somebody else’ she had muttered looking at her children: Ubbe on his phone, Hvitserk with something stuck in his mouth and Ivar trying to figure out a lego castle for his son ‘… I swear I tried my best’.

‘I do believe it’ you shot back, with a small smile.

Also Aslaug tried her best to avoid talking about Ragnar or with him, and he on his part did his best to avoid both her and Ivar, moving onto the sofa, as he watched a game, soon joined by Hvitserk.

Eric instead helped Aslaug out after the lunch, bringing her dishes from the table to the kitchen sink, although he barely reached the table, helped by you and Ivar.

‘The portrait of a family’ commented tightly Ragnar, something that put you and Ivar through a lot of uneasy embarrass, but you handled it at your best for the wellness of your mental health.

As you all settled down for a small and calm after lunch coffee, the food having lessened the differences among each other soon you found yourself dozing off, happily, on the sofa.

Lately you had been doing a lot of night shifts at the art gallery, because they were better paid and you felt more comfortable being able to take care of Eric in the afternoon, so you could help him with homework and bring him to soccer practice and doctor appointments.

You must have simply closed your eyes for moment just to wake up when you felt tiny fists hitting lightly your stomach and opened your eyes to find a rather happy Eric, blowing in your face to push your hair away.

And outside it was utter and fully dark.

Shit.

You looked all around yourself immediately seeing that you weren’t on the sofa anymore, and you had been tucked in what you remembered being Ivar’s old bedroom.

You couldn’t help but be worried sick, immediately checking your watch and discovering it was already 7 p.m.

You had slept for four hours.

Which would have been reasonable, hadn’t you basically fallen asleep at your ex’ house, when you had promised to bring him back to his pretty wife right after lunch.

You couldn’t help but have this feeling of having basically fucked up everything.

And Eric kept on jumping on the bed.

“… sweetie” you called out to him, realizing that if you had been napping all this time he had had the time to replenish himself of sugar and would end up probably breaking his brakes if he kept on jumping in that way “… where is your father?”.

“Dad is downstairs” explained Eric, as you gently grabbed him on his waist to calm him down and bring him an hug, indulging a moment more enjoying the warmth of that soft body and the smell of light sweat and cuddles that Eric always had on his clothes.

Before his words truly registered.

And you realized Ivar hadn’t gone back.

To his very pregnant wife.

Because of you.

As soon as you managed to settle down Eric and make him move after you, you descended downstairs, to catch he Lothbrocks in what looked like a challenge of GTA.

All the brothers were playing, cursing lightly at each other, meanwhile Aslaug glared at them for those curses and Ragnar cheered them on, with a beer in his hand.

It almost seemed a normal family.

And then immediately their attention was onto you, as Eric loudly chased after you, his brakes stumping against the soft moquette of the house, as you noticed he wasn’t wearing shoes, Aslaug catching your gaze and explaining to you:

‘He seemed uncomfortable and I thought he’d feel better without shoes…’ she set you a small look ‘… I hope you didn’t mind it’.

‘No no, if you don’t’ you spoke back, before you sent Ivar a pleading look, and he abandoned the newest round of the game, among brotherly insults, as Hvitserk slapped his ass, and Eric had a quite gleaming look at that gesture, making you send him a glare.

You expected Ivar to be angry.

He was always angry when things didn’t go the way he wanted.

He was a perfectionist in each thing, even more in his own plans.

But Ivar simply looked at you softly, as you hurriedly moved to explain that you could still make it time for you to arrive at 9 p.m. back in the city and to please apologize to Freydis for your accidental…

‘Hey… don’t worry’ because as much as he hadn’t changed from the perfectionist he was, you continued on stumbling on your own words whenever you were nervous, as you did back in the time ‘… I have actually asked mom if you could stay here in the guest room with Eric. I don’t want you to drive with this tiredness’.

‘I slept, I am completely energized’ you replied loudly and then yawned ruining completely the effect of your words, and earning a soft raised eyebrow from Ivar ‘… and I wouldn’t want to bother… Aslaug was already nice enough to have me for lunch…’.

‘… she doesn’t mind, and she prefer to have me safe on the road’ he explained ‘… Freydis also said the same’.

‘Gosh I just feel so awfully for having fallen asleep!’ you commented breathing loudly ‘… I swear that I totally understand if Freydis is angry with me’.

‘I actually…’ he started with a smile that wasn’t truly a smile, but something to hide his uneasiness ‘… actually I think that she is grateful for that. I can be pretty annoying…’.

Which you didn’t certainly deny.

But at the same time, you would have been eager to have him back at home, had you been pregnant as Freydis, although you didn’t regret your pregnancy and certainly didn’t need a man by your side, but…

… having him back home with you would have made you feel better.

Although Ivar could be indeed quite suffocating when he was trying to be ‘overprotective’.

But again, it wasn’t any of your business.

‘… are you sure?’ you simply mumbled, feeling like you could have survived a bit more with Aslaug’s food and a bit of relax, although you had to get to your phone, probably, before your mother came to search you, here, herself.

The brothers all left before dinner and in the end, it was simply you and Eric, Aslaug and Ragnar, the latter basically falling asleep on the sofa, right after the meal.

Aslaug stayed up just in time for supper, before retiring to her chambers, probably a bit tired by the fact that she had had to handle an ex-husband, one child and three grown-ups who were like children, mentally.

You and Eric also left soon, as Ivar took care of switching off the lights and setting the alarm, but you knew that he also needed a bit of private time to talk with Freydis.

And you had to set a five-year-old with too much sugar in bed, washing him up and changing him in comfortable clothes, making sure he got his meds.

As you were changing him, Ivar knocked on your door, to wish you goodnight and offer you a set of pajama, which you immediately recognized as an old pair you had left at his house when you were fifteen and used to sleep over there, enough that you had started leaving pajamas as clues in Ivar’s wardrobe.

But you couldn’t deny still the surprise you felt when you had it in your hands, laughing lightly as you wondered whether you’d be able to fit in them.

“… I can’t believe that you still have it” you mumbled, stretching it out in front of you to take in the awful sloth decoration on it, and the obnoxious white color that had become a dirtied yellow for too many wash-ups.

“Mom must have noticed it and washed it” he commented dryly, and you could detect the lies in his words, but were grateful to sleep into something familiar and not your uncomfortable clothes.

And it smelled like Ivar.

As if you were back at the times when you had just been invited to sleep over at his house, once your parents’ fighting had become too intense for you, and you had just snuggled closer to him, his smell immediately comforting you.

And it still comforted you to this day.

“Thank you” you muttered, as Eric moved forward to receive his ‘goodnight kiss’ and his ‘goodnight story’, something that effectively seemed to ease him up, meanwhile he settled in the big bed next to you and you changed in the bathroom, noticing that you had grown a few inches since the last time you had worn the pajama.

It had grown also tight in some other places, and you were almost ashamed of moving yourself outside of the bathroom, eventually bringing yourself to when Eric called out for you, and you tried to keep your eyes down, as you sat beside him in bed, his eyes still shining with some kind of interested ‘curiosity’.

Almost a gleaming mischievousness.

So, you got ready for whatever he was going to ask for.

“Mom!” he chanted out loudly and you shushed him telling him ‘to be mindful of the people sleeping in other rooms’ “… how did you and dad meet?”.

Gosh, didn’t this bring out horrible memories?

And some sweet ones.

Ivar looked as confused as you for the question, but not half-displeased.

“Sweetie, it is a long story…” you started, but Eric looked like he might have not slept for months if he hadn’t heard it, as he pleaded for more.

‘Just another minute!’ he chanted loudly ‘… just another story’.

And eventually both you and Ivar relented, the man’s eyes sparkling brightly, as he started.

“Actually I knew your mother for a long time, since we were tiny like you…” and he went to boop softly his son’s face, making him giggle “… we were best friends for a long time”.

“And then what changed?” asked curiously Eric.

‘Ivar started to look me as a woman, not as simply his best friend’ you wanted to say, but you knew that this wouldn’t have been very PG-13, so you simply opted for a more ‘fairytale-like’ explanation.

“… your dad and I both grew up and so did our deelings, and our friendship became more love” you explained, as you kissed softly his forehead, Ivar’s eyes slowly settling up to you meanwhile you said those words.

And you tried not to let it affect you.

… too much.

Since it was truly impossible not to feel the pressure of those beautiful eyes.

“But if you loved each other why did you…” his brain seemed to settle up links and you honestly were as confused as him to that situation, because in the end although Ivar had told you that he didn’t love you anymore, he hadn’t ever said the reasons behind it “… why are you not together anymore?”.

And you let also this be handled by Ivar.

His eyes shifting on the floor as you, yourself, felt too uncomfortable at that question.

“… we just…” they were blabbers the ones in Ivar’s voice “… I broke your mom’s heart sadly, a lot time ago, and I wasn’t able to do much to repair it in the meanwhile, but…”.

He brought you closer to him, with a loose arm, which made you both seem the picture of awkwardness, but it was enough convincing for Eric.

“… but we are together, now…”.

“… in a way” you added, before moving closer to Eric with a serious look “… and somebody is way past his bath time!”.

And Eric tried to protest a bit more, but eventually he let go, and you switched off the main light, leaving only the one on the bedside table, as Ivar continued on softly combing his hair, something that eventually got Eric to breath out softly, signaling he was asleep.

And Ivar had to leave.

Although you could see he didn’t want to.

And you couldn’t deny him, truly.

“… would you like to lay down for a bit with us?” you asked softly, as you settled on the opposite side of him “… he seems happier and calmer when you are beside him”.

“I never thought somebody would have said that” he commented with a light twinkle in his eyes “… you won’t mind if I stay?”.

You shook your head, telling yourself that it was just for tonight.

It was just for one night.

And then you’d go back to normality.

Sadly.

---

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leverage-ot3 · 4 years

Text

notable moments from The Reunion Job

leverage 3.02

Madavhi: All my work, erased, and I was only days away from cracking Manticore.

Nate: What's "Manticore"?

Madavhi: It's an electronic surveillance system. The Iranian government uses it to track protesters over cell phones, social networks, even e-mail.

Hardison: Yeah, hacker underground's flipping out about it. They use GPS to pinpoint a dissident, and then they swoop in and make the arrest.

Madavhi: The Internet made this protest possible, but now it's just a –

Nate: A liability? The government uses the people's weapon against them

- - - - -

Nate: "Cyrus"? It's "Mr. Madavhi." You can't get that attached.

Hardison: Fine. "Mr. Madavhi." He could go make a fortune working for Google or Microsoft. No, instead he risks his life fighting the bad guys. This is so our game.

Eliot (at the table behind them): He wasn't hit by the Vezarat. (comes around to sit with Hardison and Nate)

Nate: What, are you lurking?

Eliot: Yeah. I'm a lurker. It's my thing

- - - - -

eliot’s smile and raised eyebrows (x2) at hardison tho

+ he’s also wearing a red flannel with his leather jacket

- - - - -

Hardison: What's the Vezarat?

Eliot: That's the Iranian secret police. And trust me, if they wanted Cyrus, he wouldn't be sitting here talking to us.

Nate: But the Vezarat is still our logical target. So we should check our sources and see if there's a safe house in the area.

Hardison: So we're on this?

Nate: Yeah, well, we were always on this. I just wanted you to explain to me why. (gets up and heads for the Poker Room)

Hardison: You know how I feel about Mind games, Nate. Negatively. What are you looking at, lurker?

ELIOTS SMILE

- - - - -

Sophie: Eliot. Eliot, get rid of it. Ugh!

Eliot: (chuckling) I think he likes you.

Sophie (stands): You're gonna pay for this

eliot: mocks her

sophie: imma get back at you SO HARD and you’re never gonna see it coming

- - - - -

“That’s gonna cost ya” “I gotta dock ya”- hardison and eliot like a million times in this episode

- - - - -

Parker: At the East corner. (pushes vent out and enters the room) For a den of evil spies, this place smells delicious. Hardison, confiscate some pastries. (sits down at computer) Okay, no sign of Cyrus' hardware.

we love seeing parker in vents in her element + CONFISCATE PASTRIES FOR HER

- - - - -

Nate: Any of you ever trimmed a bonsai?

Eliot: Well, you know, I did. I was in Osaka, and I met this Japanese policewoman at a geisha bar....

- - - - -

Parker (to Sophie): Why is Eliot pouring your tea? Hmm? Did you brainwash him again?

Sophie: Mm, neurolinguistic programming. It's amazing what you can do with the power of suggestion. "Sugar." "Squeezed." a few strategic pats on the arm.

(Sophie pats Eliot on the arm and he pours her more tea, then realizes what Sophie has done)

Eliot: Damn it!

Sophie: You owe me for that roach business!

Eliot: Sophie, not again. (walks away)

okay but SHES DONE THIS TO HIM BEFORE LMFAO + a bonus parker and hardison laughing

also parker was eating a plate of pastries so that means thE BOYS GOT SOME FOR HER I LOVE IT

- - - - -

parker and hardison go into the office and be like 👀👀👀 wow he’s lonely

- - - - -

Eliot: Nobody else thinks it's weird that you can just buy anybody's yearbook online?

Hardison: You know, it's real cute, man, how you still believe in privacy

- - - - -

Nate: Here we go. Uh, Mrs. Zavransky, math teacher. Now, I bet if we turn to the cheerleaders... (turns page) Yes. Oh, Mandy. Mandy Babson.

Parker: What does the "DD" Mean?

Eliot: Yeah, right...

Nate: Seriously?

Hardison: Yeah, right. Two scoops of ice cream, just perfect.

she’s baby leave her alone

also bless hardison for not wanting to tarnish her

- - - - -

Parker: Aw, I feel bad for the nerd.

Eliot: Don't feel bad for this guy. Getting bullied in high school Is still no excuse for propping up dictators. He got bulled his whole high-school career. He's not criminal.

Sophie: Um...

Parker: Yeah, he is.

Sophie: Don't think about that.

Eliot: Not a bad criminal.

Hardison: Hey, what makes you think I got bullied in high school?

Eliot: Well, "A," You got a green hornet doll.

Hardison: Well, first of all, it's a limited-edition action figure. Second, it is green lantern. Educate yourself.

Eliot: Wow.

Hardison: Now pay attention. Get it right.

eliot “not a bad criminal” spencer knows that hardison is a good person with solid morals

also, eliot to some extent knows about hardison’s action figues which means that he has either seen them or hardison has told him specifically that he had them. this means that they have had, even if eliot seemed annoyed, some sort of conversations/hardison-talking-at-him-conversations and eliot LISTENED to a certain extend that he was able to recall this

- - - - -

Nate: Guys, wait, wait. Listen, listen. We got a locker combination, we have a teacher's name, and we have a crush. So, Duberman, he has made his old high school his Roman room.

Parker: Of course.

Nate: "Of course"? What's a Roman room? You have no idea, right? You know—

Parker: Nn.

Nate: You don't have any idea? It's a, it's a memory technique. Each of his passwords corresponds to an object in a space that he's intimately familiar with. In his case, the hallway of his old high school where he kept his locker. Now, if I were to make this bar my Roman room, everything I need to remember is right here. For instance, This, uh... My bank password would be "Balmoor." And my e- mail password would be Fitzy, here.

- - - - -

Parker: Hey. Nate just gave us his passwords.

Hardison: No, but I got all his passwords. You want to see his Netflix queue? He's got, like, every season of "Rockford files" every season of "Sex and the city," That show "Psych”.

chaotic children

- - - - -

Parker: You want to break into the high school? I could do that blindfolded. Yeah let's do it blindfolded.

HER HER HAVE FUN

- - - - -

Hardison: What do you know? Class of '85 has a reunion coming up in 8 months.

Nate: Hmm.

they all smile conspiratorially and eliot’s smile in specific gave me serotonin

- - - - -

(Parker sets up a video camera and walks past a board of photos)

Parker: So many awkward people in so many ugly outfits.

[Interior Van]

Hardison: Yeah, you're lucky you never went to high school. Nothing but heartbreak and homework.

[High School Gym]

Parker: Didn't you go to your prom?

[Interior Van]

Hardison: Uh...I was kind of busy.

[Flashback]

(a teenaged Hardison is sitting at a computer making a transfer from the Bank of Iceland)

Hardison: Looks like the Bank of Iceland's paying off Nana's medical bills. That's dope!

[Interior Van]

Hardison: Good times

- - - - -

Hardison: Besides, I'm sure you already had your high- school fun. Big man on campus. What, quarterback?

[Flashback]

Kid: Come on, Eliot. This is so lame. Quarterbacks do not take Home Ec.

Eliot: I got my reasons.

Kid: Phew! Let's get out of here.

Girl: Eliot, like this. (leans over Eliot, showing her cleavage) Knives are like people. It's all about the context.

[Exterior Dubertech]

Eliot: I had many interests

- - - - -

hardison getting too into the high school drama lmao

- - - - -

Hardison: Not exactly. (looking at information on monitors) She's a hired gun.

[Hallway]

Sophie: An assassin? Nikki’s an assassin?

[Interior Van]

Hardison: Yeah, I guess we weren't the only ones with the bright idea to pose as alumni. This chick's connected to wet work jobs All up and down the East coast. Russian mob, Italian mob. There's a New Zealand mob?

her name is miranda miles *squints at the file on hardison’s computer* bruh no way she’s only 25 ??? they even give her height and weight but I guess that’s how all wanted files go

also in one of the commentaries didn’t they say that she was married to that other assassin ???

- - - - -

(a piece of door falls in and the Vezarat leader looks in)

Vezarat Leader: The health inspector?

Eliot: I'm gonna have to dock you again

LMFAO

also he’s wearing a grey flannel under his jacket

- - - - -

(Eliot knees the leader in the face, then pulls him up and punches him in the head. He turns to duck a blow from the other man and hits him in the head with one of Duberman’s chess trophies)

Eliot: Checkmate.

(Eliot throws the trophy down on the man. Behind him the leader stands up and cracks his neck)

Eliot: Or not.

he did the lil flip thing with the trophy

- - - - -

(Sophie hits Nikki in the head with the extinguisher and takes off her shoes)

Sophie: I always hated cheerleaders.

(Nikki swings several times and Sophie blocks each blow with the extinguisher, hurting Nikki’s wrist)

Sophie: It's mean girls like you that always ruined high school for the rest of us!

Nikki: What the hell are you talking about?

(Nikki kicks but Sophie moves to one side. Nikki tries to punch but Sophie blocks with the extinguisher. Sophie dodges a kick and hits Nikki in the head, then pushes her down and runs away. Nikki grabs her gun and fires after Sophie, missing her)

Nikki: Damn it

- - - - -

Nikki: Now, why would I do that?

(Parker walks forward and tasers Nikki in the neck)

Nikki: Ohh!

Nate: That's why.

(Nikki falls to the ground, convulsing. Parker grabs her legs and starts to pull her away)

Parker: Catering, what a business

we love to see parker tasering people

- - - - -

on today’s edition of things that aren’t weapons that eliot uses as weapons, our guy literally used one of the goons’ bodies to hit another goon and send them both down

what a king

- - - - -

Mandy: Your votes are in for the king and queen of the reunion! And the lucky winner is, Grace Peltz and Drake McIntyre!

Schmitty: Mac attack! Yeah!

(the crowd escorts Nate and Sophie forward)

Nate: Uh, very funny, Hardison.

Hardison: Oh, you think I did this? Naw, man, I don't rig elections. I mean, I could, but...

Sophie: Parker, Was this you?

Parker: (hanging upside down) I didn't even know they had kings and queens in high school

- - - - -

Hardison (looks up): May I have this dance, miss?

(Parker lowers herself on her line and they begin dancing)

Parker: So this is what high school was like, huh?

Hardison: Ah...Pretty much.

Eliot: Hello?

[Exterior Dubertech]

(Eliot walks out of the building as Sloane gets to his feet)

Eliot: Everybody having a good time at the dance? Anybody wonder if Eliot made it out?

(Eliot punches Sloan, who falls back into the bushes)

Eliot: Does anybody wonder if Eliot's alive? Hello?!

[High School Gym]

(the two couples continue to dance as the music plays)

🥰 parker’s feet not touching the floor 🥰

also aww poor eliot someone care about him pls

#leverage #leverage 3.02 #leverage 3x02 #the reunion job #leverage season 3 #season 3 #notable moments #mine

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mangekyuou · 4 years

Text

NOBODY BUT YOU ━ﾞ

⁺◟ CHARACTERS . . . kujo jotaro fem!reader kujo jolyne ‘ holly

⁺◟ GENRE . . . au fluff oneshot

⁺◟ SYNOPSIS . . . ( y/n ) is the princess of ( k/n ) and her family wishes for her to marry an honorable prince from another kingdom in order to form an alliance through marriage. but ( y/n ) has eyes for one man and one man only. her butler, jotaro, who shares a mutual love.

⁺◟ TRIGGER WARNINGS . . . mentions of blood ‘ wounds ‘ violence internalized misogyny ‘ bad parents ‘ killing ( but no one dies ) ‘ weapons

⁺◟ WORD COUNT . . . 4.4k.

⁺◟ COMMENTARY . . . probably a little ooc jotaro for this one because he’s actually pretty kind in this one lol. i hope it’s not too much though. i was told to write a oneshot, instead i felt like i wrote a plot for a short story. this now my second longest fic. there’s just something about jotaro that makes me wanna act up when i write about them. ( f/n ) ‘ father’s name ‘ ( m/n ) ‘ mother’s name ‘ ( k/n ) ‘ kingdom’s name ‘ ( h/n ) ‘ horse’s name

“Jojo, you do not have to hide, I know you’re there.”

A woman spoke up, as she sat on the edge of her bed looking out toward the wide window a few feet from her bed, closed, boarded up from the outside at the discretion of her own mother. Through the cracks, sunlight peered into the room alongside the other much smaller windows on the same stone wall.

She stretched, a sigh leaving her lips followed by a yawn. She looked over her shoulder looking her now wide-open door, there in the door frame stood a man with the height of just about two meters with his back turned to her.

The young woman giggled, “Are you shy, Jojo? Or...do you just do not like my appearance?”

“I am not shy nor do I dislike your appearance, princess. You are just underdressed and it would be appreciated if you were to cover yourself before I can attend to you,” The man answered, his voice was rough and a little mean sounding but she knew he meant no harm by it.

That name. Princess. Her title.

“Jojo, you know you don’t have to call me Princess, right? I mean, we’re friends, right? And I am the same age as you. You can just call me by my name,” She added, standing up from her glamorous bed and walking over to put on a silk robe that was gifted to her from a friend of her mother.

The man hummed, “I do know that...( y/n ) but out of respect for both you and your family, I have to refrain from referring to you so improperly and I must address you by your title.”

Princess ( y/n ), first and only daughter of ( f/n ) ( l/n ) and ( m/n ) ( l/n ) of the lovely kingdom of ( k/n ). A kingdom that prides itself on all of its resources natural and human. And it would one day be all ( y/n )’s one day in the near future.

As she was the only child her mother could bear, she cursed from the beginning of her life to take the throne when she would become an adult, as her mother did not bear a son.

It would all be hers...alongside a man, she would probably be forced to marry from another kingdom to form some type of alliance to share a throne she didn’t want in the first place.

She was a young princess, a bit curvy around the edges with the attention of many suitors from her own kingdom and those from afar. Men near and far would do just about anything to even catch a glimpse from her. Who could blame them? She was young, attractive, strong, could defend herself, independent, and very rebellious against her parents and everything her kingdom stood for.

Her rebellious behavior and independent attitude were not what ( k/n ) stood for and she knew that which made it all the better. She prided herself in not being like the princesses before herself. She didn’t want to be like her mother, she didn’t want to be like her ancestors. She wanted to be much more than that.

She wanted to be free of her duties and to live a quiet life outside of the kingdom. Away from the stress. Away from the suitors who wanted nothing more than to marry her, turn her into a powerless walking baby carriage, and strip her of her independence and strength by force, if necessary.

( y/n ) had learned from a young age to not trust the men around her, for that very same reason. Not even her own father, who wanted to marry her off years ago to ensure the kingdom would survive another 100 years and he would get grandchildren.

She had been failed by people she had trusted and was starting to lose hope that there was really anyone out there who she could trust.

And that’s when she met him. The man who stood at her door frame with his back facing her. The man who always made her heart flutter no matter what he did.

Jotaro.

A descendant of the Joestar bloodline, the direct descendant of the great and gentle soul Jonathan Joestar who fought against evil to avenge his father’s tragic death, dying himself before it was all done. Grandson of the cocky bastard whose legendary battle stories traveled across the world, Joseph Joestar.

Despite his bloodline, Jotaro had seemed to be the opposite of both his grandfather and his great-great-grandfather. He was, at first, delinquent. His name was known across the kingdom fairly quickly for a young man.

It all had started after a misunderstanding. A man had swung at him first and he simply defended himself, beating the man almost to death without even batting an eyelash. The incident quickly became known across the kingdom.

He would get into much more trouble after that but nothing that brought the king’s attention to him, that was of course before ( y/n ) had suddenly became involved.

The young princess had left the castle without her guards when she was supposed to be asleep. She had wandered into a pub on the outskirts of the kingdom in disguise, where she danced on top of a table until one of the few customers at the pub had tried to grab at her.

As the unknown man grabbed her wrist with one hand, with the other he pulled out a small dagger that was clearly homemade as the blade looked a bit uneven, but it sure was sharp as it pierced through the skin on her neck and drew blood.

The rest was a blur to her, the next thing she remembered was waking up in someone else’s bed, being looked after by a fair-headed woman with emerald eyes with a gentle smile. She learned her name, Holly.

Before she could explain, her son walked in, Jotaro. He had explained what happened and why she was here, as it slowly started to come back to her. When she returned back the castle, there she saw a huge search for not only her but a search for Jotaro as well.

Before she could find him and warn him, he was already found and arrested. There she ran, she ran home to the castle and that’s when she saw a sight that still haunts her dreams to this day.

Jotaro in a guillotine with both of her parents eagerly watching the scene before them. She let out a terrible shriek, gathering everyone’s attention before she ran through the crowd that was slowly forming to watch Jotaro’s execution. As she laid her head under the blade, crying, “DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL! LEAVE HIM BE! THIS MAN SAVED MY LIFE! YOU KILL HIM, YOU KILL ME! YOU’LL KILL THE FUTURE OF THIS KINGDOM AS WELL!”

He, along with everyone else, was surprised by her actions. The princess of ( k/n ) had laid her head down on the guillotine in order to save a commoner.

The crowd began to murmur, rumors began to spread. The execution was called off and Jotaro was set free...or at least he thought. While the crowd settled down, ( m/n ) had offered him anything he had wanted in order to keep him out of the picture, knowing he would ruin ( y/n ) precious image in the other kingdoms.

He declined her offer, saying those words that ( y/n ) would never forget, as it was the first moment she had ever felt her heart race for someone. It was like she knew she had loved him.

“I don’t want your money, your jewels...I don’t want anything you can give. What you can do is listen to your daughter, Queen ( m/n ). It doesn’t seem like you don’t do a lot of that. Take care, Princess ( y/n ).”

“I’m decent now, Jojo. You can turn around,” ( y/n ) added, leaning against one of the nightstands, folding her arms across her chest.

He looked around her room, “It is awfully late for you to be just waking up, your highness. Where are your maids?”

She sighed, “I sent them away. I didn’t want to get out of bed today. I told them I have come down with something and I do not wish to get them sick. Getting those old women to leave me alone is such a pain in my sides. They kept insisting until I had to literally push them out of the room and shut the door. I can’t catch a break around here I guess.”

“Well, you are meeting another suitor today, your highness,” He pointed out, his eyes had traveled down to his feet. Just saying those words made him sick. He hated when young woman had to meet suitors. Every prince that had walked through those doors didn’t want a companion to spend the rest of their days with, they wanted a woman they could return to whenever they wanted. He knew boys his age, they didn’t want marriage and they damn sure didn’t deserve the woman standing before him in a silk robe.

When she asked him to be her butler, he declined. He didn’t want to work for the very kingdom he didn’t want to be apart of and wanted him either dead or behind bars in a dungeon. But she didn’t give up and she had bothered him for weeks on end, begging him to be her personal butler and he would not have to answer to any of the kingdom staff and he could live on castle grounds with his mother if he pleased.

Growing tired of her begging, he finally accepted under the condition that his mother would not be treated like a maid, which ( y/n ) accepted as she had grown fond of Holly.

After spending more time with her, he realized his true feelings. The way his heart raced and how hard it was to hide even the slightest blush when she called him by his nickname, Jojo. How she trusted him even more than she trusted the castle staff who she had grown up knowing. How her soft hands would graced his own.

He had accepted that he was in love with her almost a year ago before her mother began to truly force courtship down ( y/n )’s throat in order to take the throne. She didn’t take it laying down, which was another thing he loved about her. Her rebellion toward her family and the traditional way of things.

“Oh, that’s right. Some wealthy prince where to buy his way into a marriage he doesn’t plan on putting effort into. I’ll pass,” She joked, making Jotaro give her a small smile.

“Did the cold Jotaro just...smile?”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just messing with you, Jojo. So what should we do today instead of meeting my suitor? I was thinking we make a break for it with ( h/n ) and run out of ( k/n )’s gates at full speed. They’ll never be able to catch us!”

He raised an eyebrow, “Are you crazy? You’ll get me killed. Your mother already has a bounty on my head and is ready to kill me off at any moment. We are not to leave ( k/n ), especially not together. There are already rumors still floating through the kingdom about the two of us.”

Her face fell. The rumors, she almost forgot about those. The rumors of them being in a relationship. The rumors of him corrupting her and taking her innocence. While they hurt his image, they had pretty much tainted hers.

She would pretend they wouldn’t hurt, but they did, they always did. He knew that and he offered to disappear but she never wanted him to leave her or she would truly never trust anyone.

Jotaro let out a sigh, walking over to her, putting a finger on her chin to make her look up at him. It sent chills down her spine, looking at him like this with those blue-green eyes of his. He was even more gorgeous up close.

“Do not be sad, your highness. A rose bath will make you feel nice. I’ll fix your bath. While you bathe, I will clean your room. And then after, I will escort you to the main hall where your parents are waiting for you. ”

She nodded, “Thank you, Jojo.”

“No problem.”

He did just as he told, fixing her bath, pouring hot water into her wooden bathtub, filling it with rose red and pink rose petals before heading to her room where he “cleaned” as she bathed and relaxed. She was pretty much a clean woman already, there was much to clean besides some dusty spots. His eyes kept darting to the boarded-up window.

‘They truly do wish to lock her away like she is some animal, huh?’

The door to the room opened to reveal a familiar-looking woman, who wore a scowl on her face. ( y/n )’s handmaiden, “You should not be in here alone with Princess ( y/n ). You know the rules, Kujo. Should we relay them to you once more?”

He rolled his eyes, “I do not need your rules. You shouldn’t assume the worst of your princess now, should you?”

“Who are you to threaten me?!”

“You said my name, you know who I am. Princess ( y/n ) is currently in the bath and is getting ready to―”

The handmaiden blinked, “DID YOU SEE HER INDECENT?!”

“You are awfully protective for someone who jumps to conclusions.”

“Isabel, enough!” ( y/n )’s firm voice sounded through the room. The two looked over toward the bathroom door to see the young princess wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around her body tightly, covering all it needed to, “Jojo has done nothing and has been always been nice and expected my boundaries, unlike the suitors you, mother and father try to marry me off to. He did not see me indecent and nothing has happened. Please do not assume the worst of him. He is only doing the job I asked him too.”

With a regretful look on her face, she turned to him. Their eyes locked, “You may leave now, Jojo. I should get ready for my suitor.” She turned to Isabel, “You too. I wish to dress myself this evening.”

The two bowed, going toward the door. Isabel had walked out, leaving the two young adults for a moment. She gave him a little smile, “I’ll be fine.”

“You’re planning something...aren’t you?”

“You know me so well. Wear the cutest suit you can find at home. I’ll be looking forward to it.” She gave him a wink. He did as he always did, pretended not to care and just walk off...before...he stopped, “Thanks for sticking up for me.”

“No problem. It was wrong of her to accuse you like that.”

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight, Princess? And your dress really compliments you in all of the right ways.”

Silence.

“Princess? Princess ( y/n )?”

The young princess rapidly blinked, turning to the young man standing to her side dressed in an outlandish suit that was crafted to his tastes. She shook her head, “My apologies, my head seems to be somewhere else at the moment. Could you repeat what you said?”

The young prince cleared his throat, gesturing toward her dress, “I said that you look absolutely beautiful tonight. Your dress truly compliments you in all of the right ways.”

( y/n ) looked down to the blush-colored dress she wore, one she pretty much squeezed herself, the tight corset crushing her sides only added to the extreme discomfort she felt along with being with him, the newest suitor.

Prince Andrew from a neighboring kingdom known for their crops. A man on the shorter side with ginger hair and pretty bad achy across his face. He was probably the least interesting of the many suitors who had asked for her hand in marriage so it was easy for her to get lost in her thoughts. All he talked about was how gorgeous she was and how an alliance between their two kingdoms would be amazing.

He lost her after hello. Besides she was too busy thinking about the man who occupied her heart. His smile, his eyes, his charm.

( y/n ) gave the young ginger prince a small smile, patting him on the back as a friend, “Prince Andrew, you must forgive me but I want to be honest with you because I see something in you that I never saw in any of my other suitors.”

“A possible alliance and marriage?” His eyes sparkled.

“Heavens no. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a sweet, smart, and talented man and I know any woman would be happy to be your queen, but I’m not one of them. We could be really good friends, but I don’t see a future marriage between us. We can still have an alliance, just not one through marriage,” She explained.

His head fell just below his shoulders and a sad expression printed on his face. She rubbed his back gently, “Prince Andrew, please do not sad.”

“There is a man who holds to key to your heart already, isn’t there?”

She stayed silent, letting out a sigh.

“The man...who holds your heart, is he a commoner?”

“He is.”

“That is why you do not wish to meet suitors. Your heart belongs to a commoner. I see. Does...does he love you too?”

She shrugged her shoulders, “I’m not sure. I don’t think so.”

“The commoner that you adore, is he Jotaro Kujo of the Joestar bloodline?”

“How did you...”

“We know all, Princess ( y/n ). When you threw yourself under a guillotine for him, talk began to spread not only through your kingdom but through all of the kingdoms. It is why your parents are ready to marry you off so fast. So you don’t end up marrying him and mixing your precious bloodline with that of the shameful Joestar bloodline. Why do you think he has yet to show up despite being your personal butler?”

“You know something I don’t know. Prince Andrew, I demand you to tell me! WHY HAS HE NOT SHOWN UP?!”

She grabbed the ginger by his collar, her hands shaking in fear of the unknown. Andrew let out a shaky sigh, “We were told Jotaro would be taken care of. He had two options. He could either let you go and leave as nothing happened or...”

“They’ll kill him. Andrew where do they plan to kill him?!”

“I’m not sure. I saw soldiers marching to the east gate.”

“That’s not far! Thank you so much, Andrew!” She released the ginger’s collar, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek, causing him to blush a deep shade of red.

She ran in the way of the east gate, praying that she would make it in time. Her dress starting to rip and shred in the tree branches and bushes, while it began to blackened from dust and dirt. During her run, she lost both her shoes and most of the bodice of her dress which was probably stuck on a stray tree branch. Cuts and scratches covered her arms and collarbones, but none of the stings got to her. The adrenaline in her body being the reason.

In her vision, she could see it. East gate. She could see a few torches and horses. As she got closer, running now through the grass she saw two soldiers, fully armed with swords in a hand the reigns of their horse in the other.

On the ground, in front of the soldiers there, he was in a now tattered suit, Jotaro.

“No...”

“We are giving you the chance to live and leave Princess ( y/n ) so she can be happy. Don’t you want her to be happy?” One of the soldiers spoke.

Jotaro whipped the corner of his mouth, glaring at the soldier, “Of course I want her to be happy but why would she happy among you liars and corrupted people. I’m not leaving this shitty kingdom without her. If you’re going to kill me then kill me. My mother will still be around to watch over ( y/n ) for me until we meet again in the afterlife because I know that she can protect herself from here on out and she’ll never let a man walk all over her ever again whether I walk out of here alive or not. And because I never got to say it allowed to her, I want to say it now so I do not die with regrets. I have come to the terms with it. I love her. I love ( y/n ).”

His confession made her heart race, as tears formed in her eyes. He did love her back. She made herself now, stepping out of the tall grass, Jotaro seeing the tattered blush-colored dress first and then her face, “ ( y/n )! What are you doing here?! Why aren’t you at the ball?!”

The young princess walked to his side, kneeling next to him, taking his hand into hers, “I said it once and I’ll say it again no matter how many times it takes. You kill him, you kill me! I wish for the same brutal death that he gets because I love him too!”

Jotaro looked to the young princess with a shocked look. She shared his feelings.

“And if I’m not marrying him then I do not wish to marry at all! Now take your sword and finish us! Do your worst!”

“WOAH! MOM DID THAT?! SHE’S SO COOL!”

Jotaro let out a little chuckle watching his now seven-year-old daughter jump and down in glee, repeating ( y/n )’s iconic phrase that she had become known for through her ongoing reign as queen of ( k/n ).

Of course, she went on to reign as queen to become queen after marrying the love of her life. It was a long road to get to that point, it was an even longer road to get her parents to let her marry him. It took a lot convincing on both sides but by some miracle one day the former king and queen caved in and said yes, as they saw that Jotaro had made ( y/n ) the strong woman she was today.

Not long after their marriage, ( y/n ) and Jotaro had become queen and king of ( k/n ). And on the day of their coronation, ( y/n ) discovered she was indeed pregnant.

Nine months later, the sweet baby girl was born.

Jolyne.

She was Jotaro’s pride and joy. ( y/n ) had already predicted that Jotaro would love her more than anything, as she watched him hold her the day she was born for hours, barely even speaking to her. Watching his eyes spark as he looked down at his daughter, it warmed her heart.

“Princess, I don’t see why you’re so excited to hear that part. I’ve told you the story of how your mother and I began dating many times.”

The black and green haired girl sat down on her bed, and folded her arms across her chest, “It’s still really cool! She took you in and made you a king.”

“That’s not―”

“That’s exactly right, Jojo,” A sweet voice chimed from behind the father-daughter duo. The two looked toward the door with the same look on their face. It was easy to tell they were related.

“MOMMY!” Jolyne climbed out of her bed, running to her mother, hugging her tightly. ( y/n ) smiled, hugging her daughter back tightly, “How is the Princess of ( k/n )?”

“Great! Just listening to Dad tell the story about how you two started dating. I want to be like you when I grow up.”

She patted her daughter’s head, “And you will be one day when you become queen. You’ll be even better than me. But it is time for the little princess to fall asleep and go to dreamland while Daddy and Mommy retire to our own chambers.”

As if it was on cue, Jolyne let out a yawn, rubbing her eyes. She slowly let go of her mother, returning back to her bed to allowing Jotaro to tuck her in tightly.

“Tomorrow, we will go to the stables and ride horses.”

“Yay!”

“Good night, Jolyne.”

“Good night, princess.”

“Good night, Mommy and Daddy.”

Jotaro kissed the top of Jolyne’s head, standing up from her bedside, blowing out the candle next to her bed, and walking out of the room with his wife. He closed the door gently, slowly inching away from it before sweeping ( y/n ) off of her feet, the woman let out a small yelp.

“J-J-Jotaro!”

“Does this bring back memories?”

( y/n ) giggled, wrapping her arms around her husband’s neck, “Of course it does. It was actually this very hallway that you picked me up and carried me down. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was the night you “tainted” me forever, as my mother says.”

“All I did was kiss you.”

“J-J-Jotaro!”

“Yes, Princess ( y/n )?”

The man chuckled lowly, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips, catching her off guard. He slowly pulled away, a dark blush formed on her cheeks as she stared at him with surprised eyes. “D-D-Do you just go around kissing girls like that?”

“Only girls named ( y/n ) ( l/n ),” He answered.

“Never took you for a romantic. You were cold and quiet. You barely even spoke to me back when first began meeting,” She pointed out.

His blue-green eyes looked into her ( e/c ) ones, “But you saved me. I’ve always been the one saving others and you saved me. You were the first person to risk your own life to save mine. Just like you, I didn’t trust many. And you walked into my life and I saved you, I expected it to end there but then they tried to kill me but you almost threw your life away for me. YOU, the Princess of ( k/n ), almost threw her life away for me, a commoner. Something changed in me that day. For a while, I didn’t know if it was good or not. But now that I have in my arms like this, I know it’s a good thing, Princess ( y/n ).”

“There you go with the title again, ruining the moment. You'll never learn huh?"

"I'll call you by your name when you marry me."

"That will be pretty soon."

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