backalley-requests

[backalley-requests]

The Proposal | Chapter Seven

The Proposal Masterlist

Summary: Proposal au, where Ivar gets swept away in a lie about a fake engagement to stay in the country and needs to convince everyone (including his family) that he’s genuinely engaged to a woman he works with

Warnings: mild swearing (I think)

Word Count: 3,022

“I was thinking,” Aslaug began. Most of the family was seated at a large table, breakfast on display and on their plates. “Me and Ragnar have talked it over, and we agree it’s in everyone’s best interest to have the wedding here,” she grinned.

The bacon in your hand never reached your open mouth as your eyebrows raised in confusion. Now? It felt entirely too soon, you looked at Ivar. He was seated next to you and appeared uneasy.

“Just think about it. Ivar, this is the first time you’ve come home in seven years. Who knows when’s the next time we’ll have an opportunity like this? And most of our family is here for your father’s birthday. He said he was more than on board with the idea.” Aslaug seemed so excited.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to have a wedding. You already knew you would, but having it so soon made the whole thing more real. It used to be an abstract concept and now was a lot more.... here. “I think we’d have to talk about it,” Ivar replied cautiously.

Up until now it was mostly just playing pretend. You knew what you signed up for but this hit different. “But maybe?” You offered to soften the blow. Your leg bounced nervously under the table, and you found that your appetite was gone.

“I’ll let you two talk it over,” Aslaug decided with a nod of her head. “But it just makes sense. And it’d be a pity if I couldn’t be there for it.”

—

“We have to do it at some point, right?” You brought up when you entered the room again. You two were doing this. A lot was on the line. “Your family would hate if they weren’t there,” you bit your lower lip.

“Did you want to do it here then?”

Doing it here would make it feel more real. “I expected to get court papers and go back to my apartment and not notice a difference.” A wedding was something much more official.

Ivar nodded his head. “I’m okay with doing it now. The work will be done for us, mor has been dying to set up a wedding for a while.”

Were you okay with it? “Sure,” you nodded your head. “Maybe it’s better to just rip the bandaid off.” You shook your hands and limbs to get the nervous feeling out of you. Your stomach was twisted in all sorts of knots. Why was it so nerve wrecking now?

“You don’t have to describe our wedding as painful,” Ivar rolled his eyes.

“I’m just nervous!” You shot back quickly. Maybe part of it was that you still had the interviewer left, you forgot about him most of the time. Or maybe it was that you weren’t sure you had done enough yet.

“It’ll be a few hours of your life and we can just go back to our respective lives. Go back to normal.”

That was it. You didn’t like the idea of that. Before you came here it was easy to get the papers and pretend it didn’t happen. “You’re right, back to normal.” He would just be your boss you were legally married to. Tentative friendship aside, you couldn’t imagine going out for coffee with him. Once you two didn’t have to pretend anymore you just… wouldn’t.

“So then let’s just say yes?”

You nodded your head. “It’ll be kinda fun to dress up,” you laughed.

—

One agreement after another, neither you were sure you were entirely comfortable with. Why didn’t you say no earlier? That it was happening too fast, or that you didn’t love lying to his family.

There wasn’t a high stakes excuse, he just seemed like he wanted it and for whatever reason you agreed. But the sooner you ran through the wedding the sooner it would be over.

“Are you alright, dear,” Aslaug asked you in town. She had taken you there along with a woman named Torvi. She was married to Ubbe, as far as you could recall.

“I’m good! Just nervous,” you replied with an awkward laugh. A woman was gathering your measurements, an act that already lent itself to making one feel self conscious. You also didn’t really know anyone you were with.

Ivar wasn’t allowed inside, maybe that was for the best. Aslaug said something about it being bad luck and you didn’t bother fighting it. “Don’t be. It gets easier with each wedding, but everyone's a little nervous,” Torvi tried to calm you down. “People won’t gossip for years about if you tripped over your dress, or if your makeup was off, or if the dress didn’t match your—“ her listing things off that you never considered only increased your fears and Aslaug noticed.

“Torvi, dear, I think you’re making things worse.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted.

“All that really matters is what Ivar thinks of you. You don’t really know anyone else there, and therefore their opinions of you don’t matter,” Aslaug countered.

Torvi nodded her head. “And if he wants to marry you then you must be special. Especially after what happened with—“ Once again, Aslaug made the girl stop talking with a quick wack to her arm. “I’m just saying he’s clearly head over heels. He won’t sweat the small details.”

“What happened with who?” Curiosity was piqued. Ivar didn’t delve into personal details. It made sense, you two were hardly friends at best, but that didn’t make you any less curious. “Sorry— he just doesn’t talk about Denmark often.”

Aslaug and Torvi looked between each other for a moment until Aslaug sighed and threw her hands in the air. “Fine. But I don’t want to be here for it. It just makes me angry.” She walked out of the room and left you standing with Torvi.

“Ivar was in one other serious relationship I can recall. Sure, I think he had some affairs with a few girls but nothing real until Freydis. Nothing after her either, until you,” Torvi nodded her head.

You were changing in between suggested dresses, attempting new styles at an incredibly slow pace. Torch helped carry the weight of some dresses and zipped up the back every time. “What happened to her then?”

“Well she was beautiful and kind. He was madly in love. I’ve never seen him so love sick.”

There was no comfort that he had looked at you like that— not that you should’ve expected that. You shook her head back to reality as fast as you could. Of course Ivar looked at someone he actually loved differently than someone who just worked for him.

“Anyways, he had a whole proposal planned out. She turned him down and didn’t give a real reason why. We didn’t find out for a while,” Torvi admitted. “I think it was because she didn’t qualify for a US visa. Ivar was willing to drop his dreams of New York for her and she didn’t seem okay with that, something about not wanting him to change his entire life for her.”

You were silent the whole time. You never saw Ivar date people. You’d have known if he had in the last three years. It made sense why any short term flings didn’t last.

Torvi laced together a dress. “I wasn’t sure he’d recover— until you. So all’s well that ends well, right?” She leaned over your shoulder and grinned at you. “I wouldn’t worry too much about her. Aslaug just resents Freydis for breaking his heart. But I haven’t even seen her around here in years. She’s hardly a boogeyman.”

Why did that bother you so much? If Ivar was secretly in love with some other woman the entire time it shouldn’t matter. She turned him down anyways. But it did bother you. Ivar didn’t mention his past and you had to wonder if Freydis was why.

“I think this dress looks lovely by the way,” Torvi complimented.

—

The day just seemed so fast. Nothing was seemingly capable of slowing down information as it was thrown at you. It didn’t seem to get any better when you finally left the store, a dress sent in for alterations, to find Ivar at the nearby cafe you left him at talking to someone you haven't seen before.

“Ivar!” You smiled. Aslaug and Torvi had shooed you away while they worked on ‘something’. You heard through their whispers it had to do with a bachelorette party. The idea wasn’t exactly fun but they were too nice to turn town, so you already knew you’d agree with whatever they had to say.

You glanced over at the woman, she was beautiful and maybe that was why you felt the strong urge to sit incredibly close to Ivar. “Y/N, this is an old friend of mine, Freydis.” That made things instantly worse. The warm smile on your face turned cold.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you extended your hand to shake hers. Even her hand was soft and warm. You turned your head to face Ivar, seeing an urge to do something.

What if Ivar realized he didn’t need to return to the US if Freydis was here. You could go to prison, or lose your job at best. The man needed his priorities straight. Oh— who were you kidding! Freydis hadn’t even done anything other than show up today and now.

They spoke in Danish, only occasionally letting you into the conversation. You understood fragments of it. They were talking about their time at university, growing up together, when they dated. You were ignored and isolated from their chats and it bothered you.

Maybe you wouldn’t have cared at all if Torvi didn’t ignite a fear that Ivar was still in love with her. But he was already so much more animated and kind to her than he usually was with you.

“We’re being a bit rude to your girlfriend, aren’t we?” Freydis brought it up at some point, speaking in English for your sake.

“It’s fine,” you smiled awkwardly, waving it off.

“She’s not really my girlfriend,” Ivar admitted. “It’s complicated. She’s just a good friend. She’s helping me stay in America and get my citizenship official.”

You froze, every muscle in your body tensing up at once. Freydis laughed at the absurdity of it. “Then you must be incredibly kind as you are beautiful to deal with him. Ivar certainly has a knack for the dramatics, doesn’t he,” she smiled at you.

You took a deep breath and smiled back. “He also seems to have a habit of bad judgement calls. Ivar— I don’t care if she knows but the point of a secret is not sharing it where anyone can hear. Your mom and Torvi are in the same district right now. What if they were behind us?” You snapped.

Ivar frowned his eyebrows at you, “It’s not a big deal. Freydis wouldn’t share it and they aren’t here. Do you honestly think I’d be that reckless?”

“If I can’t share it with anyone how come you get to without discussing it,” you demanded. It bothered you. A lot. “We’re supposed to be a team.”

Freydis shifted uncomfortably, “I think this is my cue to go. Obviously things are a little tense. Look, I promise you two that I won’t go around sharing this.” She stood up and collected her things.

“I think that’s a good idea. You’re fine, Freydis. My issue is with my not-boyfriend,” you admitted, anger evident in your tone.

“Good luck with the wedding,” Freydis waved before leaving. Her walk was a little faster than a normal one.

“What the hell was that,” Ivar demanded the moment Freydis was out of ear shot. He turned to face you and it was the first time he looked at you since you showed up. His eyes were intense and narrowed in anger.

Your jaw tightened, “I should be asking you the same question. Why were you even talking to her? Let alone telling her our entire plan. You realize that I go to prison if it gets out, right? You can stay here and live out your perfect fantasy but I rot in a cell!” You stood up and wanted to leave.

“I’m not going to blow anything up! Freydis won’t tell. We’ll get married as we planned, divorced in three years. No one gets hurt.”

But you already were. And you couldn’t identify why.

“Oh and who’s gonna believe that we’re a real couple getting married if they just see something like that! You ignored me the entire time just to stare at her perfectly symmetrical face!”

Ivar’s face went from anger to confusion for a moment. “No one saw it. I’m not bringing her to my home or reintroducing her. It was one interaction. What’s wrong with me wanting to see an old friend.”

“But she’s not just your friend, right,” you reminded him.

Ivar froze and hesitated to respond for a moment. “How do you know that?”

You tried to calm down but you could feel yourself spiraling. “Torvi told me about her at the dress fitting. Everything she knew.” You bit your bottom lip, Ivar remained silent. “I’m your fiancée! Okay? So just— just stop looking at her!” You didn’t understand why it bothered you so much. You hoped it was just for appearances. “I just need this to go well. We’re supposed to be working together. That wasn’t together.”

“What happened to wanting to not argue,” Ivar challenged. “And over her? I haven’t seen Freydis in a long time. It’s not like I’m proposing to her.” Tears threatened to leave your eyes and Ivar’s face fell. “Whoa— hey, Y/N. It’s okay. I didn’t do anything. I don’t love her, I was just catching up. I didn’t think it would matter so much.”

You didn’t either. “Maybe.” You didn’t really have a right to care beyond him telling Freydis who you actually were. And if you were being honest that isn’t what you really minded. “I don’t know why it does. Things are just happening fast. I keep losing control over my life right now.”

Ivar wasn’t good at trying to comfort people, he awkwardly placed a hand on your shoulder and patted it. “You should’ve said something. I would’ve tried to help.”

You laughed softly and shook your head. “Yesterday you told me that you would've helped me if I asked for it.”

Ivar rolled his eyes, “well I lied. You should be used to that by now.”

“I don’t like her,” you admitted, “she’s way too nice.” There was nothing genuine to hate her for. She didn’t step on your toes or was rude. “I can’t even imagine you dating her. She doesn’t look like she could bite back.”

Ivar found it a little amusing. “I didn’t usually bite at her to begin with. Not that you’d know. Torvi shouldn’t have said anything. It wasn’t her place— and nor was it mine to tell Freydis the truth.”

“At least you admit it.” So what gripe could you have left?

“Were you jealous,” Ivar asked suddenly.

“No!” Your face got red at the idea. “Of course not. How could I be jealous of that?” Were you jealous?

“Okay,” he nodded his head. “Then I’ll just put this out there. As friends. I’m choosing to marry you. Not her, you. If I wanted to have married Freydis I would’ve.”

For some reason the words calmed you down a bit more. “Not that you could’ve, she's way too beautiful for you.” You found yourself easily relaxing into petty insults.

“You’re just jealous she’s better looking than you.” He knew a new way to get under your skin and didn’t hesitate to take a shot at you.

Your face fell.

“Just because I made a poor choice in who I choose to marry doesn’t it isn’t true. It’s my legs that are broken, not my eyes.”

“You are so mean!” Your voice filled with a bit of dramatic hurt.

“You insulted me first. And if I’m being honest, I’ve been incredibly patient with you today. So I deserved to say it. You went off on me for no reason. If you were anyone else I would’ve said something to actually hurt you,” Ivar replied. “Like how you have no family. Or you’re only so jealous because no one’s ever truly loved you the way you believe I love her— something to that effect.”

That’s when it occurred to you that Ivar didn’t respond like he normally would. Like he used to. He tolerated your display of anger and worked with you rather than get defensive and attack in any meaningful way.

“This is the part where you apologize,” Ivar nodded to you. “Or at least thank me.”

You didn’t want to. “You’re right,” you sighed. “Thanks.”

Ivar shrugged, “you’ve tolerated me when I’ve gotten angry over nothing. I figured I’d return the favor.” He took a moment before deciding to share more. “I broke up with her, by the way. Before I left. I decided that being here and knowing her was all I knew. I haven’t loved her for a long time. I certainly wouldn’t lose my job over her.”

Your eyes locked with his. “Torvi made it sound like—“

“None of them know. That’s why you don’t rely on rumors, Y/N. You could’ve just asked.” He didn’t seem to mind it. “You went off the rails today,” Ivar sipped his coffee and he eyed you. He was calm about it too. As if he didn’t mind this simple truth.

“I’m sorry.” It all seemed really dumb right now. “You’re right. It’s just all been… a lot. Things are moving fast. I thought you were just another thing running ahead of me.”

“You’re supposed to be the one keeping me in check,” Ivar teased. “It’s strange being the sane one for once.”

You rolled your eyes, “I slipped up once. Don't expect it to happen again.”

But that didn't solve the nagging in the back of your mind. Why was that the final straw?

—

taglist** @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @momowhoo

#ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless x reader #vikings #the proposal #it’s late but shhhh #I’ve been busy

[backalley-requests]

The Proposal | Chapter Six

The Proposal Masterlist

Summary: Proposal™ au, where Ivar gets swept away in a lie about a fake engagement to stay in the country and needs to convince everyone (including his family) that he’s genuinely engaged to a woman he works with

Warnings: mild swearing, mentions of alcohol, use of the word cripple

Word Count: 2,989

The sun shined in and illuminated your face. You slept through it until the heat got too much to handle and you were suddenly blindingly aware of your headache. You should’ve drank more water the night before. You hadn’t changed out of your clothes from the night before, but that was the least of your concern.

You did your best to roll over but it didn’t protect you and eventually you had to realize sleeping wasn’t an option. You got up to take a shower before the realization hit you that you just slept in the same bed as your boss. It felt more personal than having kissed him at the party to prove a point. No one forced you two to share the bed, there had been no wandering eyes.

Ivar looked so peaceful in his sleep. You stood by the bed, staring at his face for entirely too long. It was one of the rare opportunities you had to just appreciate how beautiful he was. It didn’t hurt that he had softened up some the night before. Not enough to be considered a soft person, but in comparison to his usual antics he was. He had apologized too. But that was the alcohol talking.

At some point you realized it was all too creepy to stand by the bed and watch Ivar sleep. You wanted to take a shower but another thought crossed your mind: Ivar. He drank more than you had and you didn’t feel particularly good. You shuffled through a medicine cabinet for the next few minutes and grabbed a glass of water.

It was second nature to do things for him anyways. Besides, all he would do is complain if you didn’t. You were doing it for yourself. Mostly… you also had the quiet hope that maybe he’d stay nicer if you helped. You placed the stuff on the counter next to the bed and picked up the cane, you paused at his braces. You didn’t know much about it but you had the feeling he probably shouldn’t have slept in that. The issue was that touching it was a big no go.

You undressed and entered the shower. What you needed was the warm water to distract you from your hangover, but what you ended up doing was thinking. Ivar probably put up a lot more walls and fronts than most people. They struggled to remain up when he was drinking and thinking was hard. Maybe that was cruel on your end to encourage but he seems so much calmer. There’s no way he enjoys being high strung and an asshole. He was always so angry and annoyed.

But now you had a small taste for something else he could be. It was poor taste on your part, but you liked it. It felt different. A part of you wanted to chase after that. Your life would be so much easier if you succeeded. It would make marrying him so much more tolerable.

Your shower was cut short— and by short, it lasted one hour instead of the three hours you could’ve easily spent pruning in there. The sound of Ivar groaning loudly distracting you from your thoughts. “Ivar?”

“I—,” he stopped talking for a moment and you turned off the shower. “I need help.” His voice was pained and you realized everything had hit him at once.

“Coming!” You hadn’t heard him ask for help before and it made you want to drop everything you were doing without any hesitation. It was one thing to demand stuff and another for him to admit he needed things. You dried off and threw a robe on. “I put a bunch of stuff by the bed. I don’t know what you usually take.”

Ivar rolled his torso over, grabbing at things and opening a bottle of painkillers. “Did you put these here?” His breath was labored and his eyes narrowed, but there was no anger behind it, just intent.

You nodded your head. “I woke up with a headache, I figured you’d feel worse.” His face softened up for a moment and he took a gulp of water along with some pills. “They usually take about thirty minutes to kick in—“

“I know how long they take,” his voice was stained but the pain he was in didn’t stop him from snapping at you.

You bit down on your bottom lip, holding back from snapping back. “I’m just trying to make conversation.” You chose your words carefully. You understood, on some level, the type of pain he was going through. You understood the short fuse it came with and the eagerness to find release. “I’m being nice. Don't antagonize me.”

Ivar tried to sit up and undo the braces but struggled. You sat down on the edge of the bed and wordlessly started to undo them when his hand quickly reached down and went over yours. You paused, your eyes quickly finding his. “What are you doing?” He asked. There was a panic behind his voice.

“I’m— you wanted them off, right?” You weren’t going to push a touchy subject but it wasn’t good to keep them in forever.

He stared at you, conflicted. “I don’t want you to— well I—“ the conversation was constantly at a stop and go. Neither of you were good at navigating even normal conversations together, let alone one about this. “Fine.” He took a deep breath and tilted his head.

You undid the braces easily, being gentle about it. You didn’t know his level of pain or which areas were sensitive and if any weren’t. “Does it hurt,” your voice was quiet as you watched him. He didn’t seem capable of looking at you.

“Not anymore than they already did.”

“You just look stressed.” You sat and stared at his face. Ivar didn’t seem capable of movement. Maybe it was just pain.

Ivar took a deep breath and then sighed. “People don't usually react well to it. I guess I just don’t want to know what you look like when you do.”

Your face fell and your mouth parted as you tried to figure out what to say. You guessed that he’d been told everything you wanted to say already. If he heard them a hundred times and still felt this way it wouldn’t change. “You told me you don’t care what other people think. In the bathroom, the day you proposed.”

“You already know I do.”

“You’re not good at hiding it, Ivar. It’s why I told you the office sided with you. I never judged you for stuff like this, it seems pointless. I do judge you when you go around asking like an asshole,” you teased. “So why would I start now?”

Ivar chuckled quietly in response. “I don’t know. I can’t fire you anymore? You had a lot of things you wanted to say about me but never did until now.”

Fair enough, you shrugged. “And it’s always a direct result of you being a jerk. But I care about you regardless in some capacity. If I didn’t I would’ve stayed in the shower.”

“Did you just get out of the shower?”

“I— yes.”

Ivar winced as he sat up in the bed. His back against the headboard. He just noticed you were wearing a robe. “Are you naked under there,” a smirk cracked on his face.

“N—No,” your face was immediately flushed at the mention of it. Your hand went back to the robe. You should’ve just let him struggle.

Ivar raised an eyebrow. “So you shower with your clothes on?” He laughed at the idea of it.

“Fine! I am. But it’s rude to ask a lady if she’s secretly naked,” you were flustered as you laughed. “I got worried! What was I supposed to do, leave you?”

“I would’ve,” he shrugged.

“Please tell me you’re joking,” you gave him a pointed look. There was no way he meant that. Please. The thought echoed in your mind.

But you didn’t get an answer as he glanced down at his slack covered legs. No braces. “How’d you do that so easily? Don't tell me your stalker work extended to stuff like this.”

It never felt relevant to mention why until now, since he asked. “I used to play on my college soccer team until I completely fucked my ACL, and my meniscus, and shattered my left knee. I think the poor girl I collided with got it worse, but I don’t really knkw that. It was a gnarly collision,” you reflected. “But the point is that my left leg was completely broken until graduation. I used to wear a brace like that until it started getting better.”

At the time it sucked but Ivar made you realize you were lucky it was a temporary thing. “I have scars but I doubt they compare much to whatever you’ve got,” you laughed. “So I wasn’t about to start bitching back when you got rude. Cause I get it, it hurts.”

Your leg bounced nervously as you watched him. Ivar didn’t say much, his blue eyes locked on your face. “It’s a little rude of you to heal,” he decided to say. Your face scrunched up in confusion. “We could’ve been crippled buddies, but you had to go be some loser who can walk,” he laughed.

Your body relaxed at his laugh and you found yourself laughing too. “You’re totally right. I’m so sorry, Ivar. I’ll do better next time.”

It was a dumb thing to joke about but it felt nice. “Can I see your scar? I’d like to make fun of it,” he nodded his head to your bouncing leg.

You stopped bouncing it and swallowed. “Well. As you astutely pointed out earlier— I’m naked, Ivar.” Your eyes were wide. There was no real reason to feel nervous about that.

“If that was your way of convincing me it was a bad idea, rest assured it had the opposite effect,” he immediately closed his mouth. You stared at each other for a moment longer until there was a knock at the door.

“I’m gonna go get dressed,” you smiled faintly as you got up. His mother entered the room and started to talk to Ivar. You couldn’t hear much of the conversation behind a closed door. Not that you could think much about it either. That cheeky bastard.

—

“I’m an absolute God at Mario Kart. You’re going to have to be a hacker if you want to beat me,” you smiled as kindly as you could manage. But your anger and determination was real.

Ivar was bed ridden, fair enough. You kinda liked the idea of just staying in bed the whole day. The honesty from earlier couldn’t be brought back due to an intruder, Hvitserk. Honestly, you liked him a lot more before learning he thought you were a gold digger. But it made more sense than reality.

Hivtserk was sitting on the floor, his back pressed against the foot of the bed. Everyone had a controller in hand as he set up Mario Kart. “I’m still amazed Ivar let you in his bed at all,” he admitted.

“I’m his fiancée. He ought to,” you teased. You glanced at Ivar who rolled his eyes. You remember his earlier comment ‘you can stay on the floor’. “Besides, it’s utterly massive.”

You were quick to select Waluigi and found that Ivar got annoyed at the selection. “Ivar always picks Waluigi,” Hivtserk laughed.

“Aww, is that why he’s pouting?” You could be nasty when it comes to competition. “Learn to share or pick a new character. Because if you’re marrying me then I get Waluigi.” Your face was so serious about the topic.

“How is that fair!”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips. “You have such youngest-sibling energy! You’re a baby!” You cooed as you reached over, knowing that Ivar had to tolerate it.

But if you could play at that game then he could join. Your hand tried to touch his face and he used it as an excuse to pull you over and kissed you for a brief moment. It was your fault for establishing it was okay by doing it last night, but it didn’t stop your face from heating up as you pulled back. “I thought that’d shut you up.”

You glanced back to the screen, staying quiet for a moment. Why did that make your heart race when you knew he did it for show and prove you two were dating. This was especially true because his brother was here and already didn’t trust you. Hivtserk laughed at your response, “if only Ivar was so easy to silence.”

It threw you off. You got 5th place the first race and kicked yourself for it. “I thought you were supposed to be a God,” Ivar mocked.

Your eyes narrowed, “we have 4 more races. You won’t win another.” It brought back your competitive spirit as you focused on how annoyed you were. Anger was a good driving force and the game was a beautiful distraction.

Four games later and you smirked in self satisfaction at the top of the podium. “I told you, Ivar. You wouldn’t win another.” Hvitserk was just lucky to place considering how often he crashed. “I went easy on you since you already lost your character.”

“Oh shut up. Race me again.”

“I could still win!” Hvitserk insisted.

“You couldn’t even beat the simulation,” you snorted. “How can you beat me, let alone Ivar?”

—

The three of you played games, straying away from conversations. Others occasionally stopped by to try and talk but most left Ivar alone. They knew what he was usually like on his bad days but he was handling it better than usual. They blamed you but you knew better.

“They seem to really care about you,” you noted the moment you were alone with him.

“They’re family,” Ivar rolled his eyes, “they have to care.”

You nodded your head. “Still. You have people who do.” You were used to being alone by now. Seeing people in mass care like that was nice. You had friends but it was hard to hang out, you worked too much.

Ivar glanced at you, “well. They’ll care about you too.”

“For three years,” she snorted, “meanwhile Hvitserk thinks I’m a gold digger.” You weren’t sure why you cared as much as you did. But it felt personal to talk about. It wasn’t fun. Ivar looked away after your comment and ran his fingers through his hair. “We should set some ground rules,” you spoke up after a moment.

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t expect you to kiss me earlier— I mean it’s fine. I kissed you last night. But I didn’t realize we’d just… do that now,” you bit your bottom lip. “It was smart. It makes us look real.”

He nodded his head slowly, “yeah well. I figured that was the goal.” It didn’t feel honest but you didn’t dare press it. Or maybe you were just wanting him to be lying.

“So, do we just dive deep into it? Hand holding, an occasional kiss, that kind of stuff? Just while they’re around,” you were quick to reassure. All of this felt like things that should’ve been addressed a long time ago.

Ivar shrugged and nodded his head again. “If my family is going to be interviewed I want them to believe it.”

“Then stop being a jerk then. To me at least,” you rushed. “Because you’ve been fine today but by now we both know I won’t back down. It just makes us look suspicious to be fighting and arguing all the time.”

To some extent you just liked him better like this. It was fun when his insults were over a dumb video game and not aimed at you not having a family. “Fair enough,” he agreed. “But— I want Waluigi next time.” A dumb trade, and one you didn’t want to make. You hesitated to agree to it and his eyebrow raised with great interest. “Does he matter that much to you?”

“I just hate conceding.”

Ivar snorted. “Maybe you’re more like me than you’d like to admit.”

“No I’m not!” You put your hand over your mouth after you said it.

“And you’re stubborn too,” Ivar tsked, shaking his head in shame at you. “If you were the boss I bet they’d call you a tyrant too.”

“You know about that?” You had assumed he didn’t. It just seemed like a thing he would’ve called out.

“Of course I know,” he rolled his eyes from where he sat on the bed. “I just ignore it. I’m used to people not liking me.”

“I like you,” you said instantly. It was the first time you vocalized the idea but it came natural in the moment. “When you aren’t trying to make me not like you, I like you.”

Ivar’s face got red and he scowled and looked away. “Well don’t.” It lacked the bite he usually had. It was hard to take seriously.

“Because you don’t care, right? Oh wait— you admitted that was a lie this morning. Why lie now?”

Ivar didn’t have anywhere to go after that. “It’s easier. This feeling is temporary. You’ll change your mind. I’d rather not feel worse about it later. You just think you like me.”

Your face softened and you sighed gently. “I’ve had more than enough time to develop a hatred of you. I think I’d know if me liking you as fake. We could be friends if you didn’t try so hard not to be.”

“Friends,” Ivar repeated and nodded his head. “You’re right. That’s what we could be.” His reply seemed off.

“Well then…” you trailed off. “Can we?”

“Can we what,” he asked, tired already.

“Be friends. I want to be your friend.”

He hesitated, his eyes narrowed at your face. “Fine. Maybe— it’s worth a shot at least.”

—

Taglist** @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @momowhoo

#ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless x reader #the proposal #vikings #i started falling behind in writing it lol #so i gotta do two in one day at some point #I’ve just been busy #yet ive still kept up one a day so... 👀 #I’m glad some people have liked it!!!

[backalley-requests]

The Proposal | Chapter Five

The Proposal Masterlist

Summary: The Proposal™ au, where Ivar gets swept away in a lie about a fake engagement to stay in the country and needs to convince everyone (including his family) that he’s genuinely engaged to a woman he works with

Warnings: mild swearing, mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 2,693

Ivar hadn’t realized how good it would feel to come back. It’s always easier to not miss people when they weren’t around, but he felt years worth of it all of a sudden when he came back. As much as he’d claim he hated his family he kinda liked it. It’s easier to be feared than loved, but most people know which they’d prefer. Ivar just wasn’t very good at getting people to love him.

“Seven years.” Time flew by fast, the reality that he could’ve come back empty handed after five years of his life spent searching for things was haunting.

Floki smacked him upside the head, harshly. “That’s for leaving for seven years. I expected you to come back married— the girl, she seems nice.” He moved on softly as if he hadn’t just struck Ivar.

“I had better things to worry about,” he rolled his eyes. “If you were so worried about grandchildren you should’ve had your own. Or looked towards Ubbe as a son.”

“Ah— maybe, but between you and me? You’re my favorite.”

Ivar noticed you in the corner, your back against the wall as you spoke to Hvitserk. You seemed more at ease with his brother than you ever were with him. It made sense, he kind of liked to piss you off. It let him keep control, but he liked how you looked like this.

“You like her, don’t you?”

“What— no.”

Floki paused, confusion on his face. “So you… don’t like your own girlfriend?”

Ivar realized his mistake. “What I mean is that I love her.” He didn’t, naturally. But it was better than leading Floki into the reality that he was about to get deported if he didn’t pretend to be. “She’s certainly something else.”

He tended to like people who knew him. Freydis did that so naturally well but you? It was like you spent several hours a night studying him. Everything was so calculated and matter of fact. Ivar didn’t usually take the time to appreciate that, or how it amused him.

“Good. Like you said earlier. I want grandkids, and since I don’t have sons or daughters of my own I must rely on you.”

—

“Ivar!” The loud and booming voice pulled Ivar from the conversation. His father showed up and pulled Ivar into a hug. Ivar’s eyes went wide upon seeing the man.

“You’re here?” Ragnar didn’t make a lot of appearances in his life. The man seemed to be too busy with other things and other kids. It usually hurt but to grab his attention again felt good.

“Of course I am, I haven’t seen you in forever. You’d think I’d miss out on my favorite son finally coming home? And what’s this I hear about a girlfriend,” Ragnar pressed with great interest.

“It’s probably fake,” Bjorn said, showing up with a smirk. “It wouldn’t be the first time he lied to impress you.”

“Mind your tone, Bjorn,” Ragnar warned.

“And if you got married it wouldn’t be the first time either. Nor the second,” Ivar responded with a shrug. “So why is the idea of showing up with a new girl so surprising to you?”

“Fine. Even if you got a lucky break. You’ll have a tougher time getting any further than that. The moment she finds something better she’ll move on like the rest.” Bjorn was edging Ivar on and Ivar fell for the bait. It was like knowingly walking straight into a mouse trap but being so famished that you couldn’t stop.

Ivar laughed. “Which is much better than you? There’s a reason your marriages don’t last Bjorn. You can’t keep anything in your pants.” They all saw it. The way Bjorn found someone, decided to marry them and then changed his mind. “I’d hardly consider that being better than me.”

“At least I can get people willing to marry me,” the reference to Freydis almost made Ivar throw himself at the man. His father tried to step in and placed a gentle hand on Ivar, whose breath was getting faster

“Well so can I,” Ivar backed down, “you’re not unique.”

“Oh really now, because I’d love to see proof,” Bjorn took a step closer.

“Because Y/N and I are already engaged!” Ivar grinned. There was a cold rage hidden behind it. Bjorn backed off immediately. “So it’s already happening.”

Ragnar stopped his attempts to reconcile peace, pausing. “You’re engaged?” His father soon enveloped him in a hug, it was the first time in a while his father had seemed proud of him. Ivar used to get it all the time but clearly things had changed. “That’s wonderful!”

The display seemed to shut Ivar up. Floki slapped him on the back. “Why didn’t you open with that?” The man was laughing too. Ivar hadn’t expected the strong response but it felt like a triumph over his brother and that satisfied him.

“We just wanted to keep it private—“ Ivar didn’t get the chance to finish before Ragnar gathered the attention of everyone there.

He tapped against a glass and stood on a chair. “Everybody listen up! My son, Ivar, just shared terrific news.” People stopped and listened. It was evident the man commanded respect, “He’s engaged.” There was a round of applause. “Now where’s Y/N, I want to congratulate my new daughter.”

That’s when you noticed, standing along the edge of the room. You were thrown off and red faced at the sudden attention, and Ivar almost felt bad for having put you on the spot. But it couldn’t be helped now.

You tentatively walked over and were hugged by a man Ivar wasn’t even sure you had met yet, “sorry,” Ivar whispered in your ear when you were finally released.

“Now let’s see a kiss from the lovely couple,” Ragnar announced.

“That hardly feels necessary,” Ivar tried to get around it.

“Oh, come on! It’ll be fun, wouldn’t it. And since you two are so real it should be easy,” Bjorn interjected.

It was one thing to marry you and another to kiss you, ironically enough. It wasn’t that the idea was impulsive but none of this was discussed and all of a sudden it was just happening. “Just stop, Bjorn,” Ivar rolled his eyes. He knew backing down made it sound fake.

“If they don’t want to, that's fine,” Ragnar tried to defuse the tension with little success. His largely absent parenting was probably to blame for this.

You picked up on the cues and touched Ivar’s upper arm, offering raised eyebrows. “Why? Because you lied,” Bjorn just kept pushing it. He didn’t stop. Ivar knew the man was just desperate but it didn’t stop it from getting to him.

“Why are you pressing this so much,” you demanded, your eyes narrowed at Bjorn. “Jealous much?” You then did something he didn’t expect. You placed both hands on either side of his face and pulled Ivar in, kissing him with such intensity that it left the poor man dazed. Your face was red but any embarrassment didn’t show in your voice. “Now can you leave me and my fiancé alone, you’re kinda killing the vibes.”

It immediately shut Bjorn up. And Ragnar laughed awkwardly, patting both of his sons on the back. “Well that was entertaining.”

—

“What was that?” You asked him the moment the two of you were free. You struggled to speak over the sound of increasingly loud music.

“I should be asking you the same thing,” Ivar admitted. He loosened his shirt, it felt a little hot in here.

You shrugged and glanced away, “you were struggling there. Besides, if I didn’t make us sound real I’d go to prison, remember?”

“Yeah, Bjorn can be an ass,” Ivar sighed.

He ignored the look on your face, pity. It was obnoxious. “So— the answer to all your problems was announcing our engagement?”

“No—“ he was so used to being in control all the time. Ivar laid things out like a fine strategy. He had a plan for everything but you kept messing with that. Bjorn had messed with that too. “But it got the reaction I needed.”

He needed fresh air. “Are you alright?” Again with the look of pity on your face.

“Just fuck off. If I want you around I’ll tell you. Go back to my brother if you’re so lonely.” That lingering feeling of jealousy. Ivar knew he didn’t have a right to have it but it was still there. Your eyes narrowed angrily and you opened your mouth to speak back. He felt immediate guilt and rushed out the word, “sorry”. You closed your mouth and bit your bottom lip before walking off.

Great. He shouldn’t have done that. It was like he couldn’t stop doing things like that. It was easier to be a dick. He sat down on the couch in defeat and was envitably surprised when you came back.

You handed him a shot glass and he raised an eyebrow in response. It was clear you held back from saying something hurtful. “Look, whatever goes on between the two of you isn’t my business. But I like to get wasted when I’m upset about things,” you admitted to him.

Ivar glanced down at the shot before taking it and immediately downing it.

“That's the spirit! I’ll go get us some more.”

Things started to blur together. Ivar lost count of the shots he took, mostly because he hadn’t bothered to try when he could. “Are you alright?”

“No,” Ivar admitted. He had hoped to see your face and instead saw Hvitserk.

“We haven’t had much of a chance to talk yet,” his brother moved on and ignored Ivar’s response. “But I think we should. I know you were never much for listening to others but you should make an expectation in this case.”

Ivar didn’t respond. He felt the rise of vomit in his throat for a brief moment and realized he should probably stay still if he wanted to avoid getting worse. He didn’t feel sick, but his whole body was vibrating.

“I’ll take that as a tentative maybe,” Hvitserk sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Be careful with Y/N. There’s something off about the whole relationship.”

Blue eyes angrily shifted to Hvitserk. “And what exactly is off? That someone would be willing to date me?” The idea that you’d actually be interested in him. He could feel the judgement radiating off his brother.

His brother bit his lip, “you should know better than to think it’s just that, Ivar.” But that was part of it, he knew it. Hvitserk admitted to it. “You have a lot of money—“

“You think she’s a gold digger?” Ivar laughed loudly and his body shook from the intensity of it. Hvitserk didn’t seem as amused by it. He knew better than Hvitserk though. He knew why things were actually odd.

“I’m serious, Ivar. I wouldn’t call it that but these things aren’t uncommon. You need to be careful if you’re going to marry her.”

Ivar placed a hand on Hvitserk’s shoulder. “Thank you for caring about me, brother, but I think I’m good.” It felt like his cue to turn in for the night. His legs were sore anyhow. He had stood for far too long and if he wasn’t so drunk he’d probably be feeling it a lot more than he already was. He’d regret being up at all tomorrow. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Just be careful—“

Ivar tuned out the rest. He felt distracted from the insult to his character. The idea that someone like you couldn’t like him. It would hurt if he wasn’t so amused by the accusation. He stumbled to his room and collapsed into his bed.

His cane fell to the floor and he knew he’d regret that in the morning too. But the bed felt so good. His head spun fast but things slowed down when he closed his eyes. Ivar needed to take off his braces but he didn’t want to move. Maybe that would be tomorrow’s problem.

—

“You left,” Ivar said the moment you entered the room. He was staring up at a spinning ceiling. He couldn’t fall asleep at the moment.

“Your mom wanted to talk about things,” you replied. Ivar pulled himself further up the bed, trying to get a look at you. He watched you start setting up your makeshift bed.

“Stop that, just— just come here,” Ivar said as he stared at you. His voice was soft. The bed felt nice. “I was rude earlier, get in the bed. It’s big enough.” It felt like the least he could offer.

Maybe he should’ve remove the braces. His legs were sore but it was nothing that couldn’t be fixed by death. He felt the right side of the bed dip in. Ivar turned his head to the side and saw you laying there, his bright blue eyes trained on your face. You where too close for comfort.

He didn’t often care about things, but he did in that moment. You put more effort into knowing him than most did. It was as hard to tell if you hated him or cared for him at all. It was sort of the downside of you not being at liberty to say your mind for the past three years.

“Your family seems nice,” you said.

Ivar took a deep breath and sighed. “I think they’re just happy at the idea of you— not that you aren’t nice too but they’re worried enough that I’d ruin us. They don’t want to contribute.”

You started to laugh and he was surprised by that. “Gosh— you’re so self-loathing. You think they really believe that you’re that big of a fuck up? Are you?”

He swung his arm over and it smacked limply against your body. “Shut up.” But he didn’t deny it.

“You’re a jerk but I’ve seen worse. I can name a few people I dislike more than you.”

“But you dislike me?”

“Sometimes.”

“Right now?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Ivar was drunk out of his mind. He assumed you had to be a little. He probably wouldn’t have been bold enough to ask this if he was sober. It felt good to hear he wasn’t actively disliked at the moment.

The two of you laid there for a few more moments until you turned over. “How long have you been staring at me, Ivar?”

Ivar was mirroring you, and blinked in response to the question as he tried to think. “I’m too tired to move.” A lame excuse. “Hvitserk thinks you’re a gold digger.”

“What!” The shock on your face made him laugh. “I thought we were hitting it off! I thought he wanted to be my friend!” You rolled back over onto your back. “So that’s why he asked about my economic background…”

Ivar laughed. “Yeah. Maybe. He tried to warn me about you. I’d try not to take it personal if I were you. I couldn’t tell him the truth.”

“A gold digger….” You sighed, “are you really thT wealthy?”

“Why,” Ivar smirked, “dont tell me you’re in it for the money now?” It felt good to not be arguing. His guard was more down than usual. You were funny, and beautiful— you didn’t deal with his bullshit. Maybe he liked that more than he’d normally admit.

“Well… some money couldn’t hurt,” you bit your lip with a grin.

“Maybe Hvitserk was right.”

“Don’t say that!”

“Don’t let it get to you,” Ivar said. “I know better. Hell— I like you!” He realized how the words sounded and felt the need to correct humelf. “Like, you’re a good person”

“And you’re a lot better than most people give you credit for.”

“Even you?”

“I had a feeling you weren’t all bad,” you rolled over and seemingly passed out. But Ivar couldn’t sleep now. His head was still spinning but now his heart beat faster.

—

Taglist** @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927

#ivar x reader #the proposal #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless #idk why it took so long to write #just like weird middle parts #so it may be more disjointed #shhhh

[backalley-requests]

The Proposal | Chapter Four

The Proposal Masterlist

Summary: The Proposal™ au, where Ivar gets swept away in a lie about a fake engagement to stay in the country and needs to convince everyone (including his family) that he’s genuinely engaged to a woman he works with

Warnings: use of the word cripple, almost swearing

Word Count: 2,515

You didn’t truly conceptualize how far away Denmark was from New York until you were flying there. It felt like an eternity. You and Ivar hadn’t spoken since your last exchange. Things felt tense and your stomach felt sick. “Get the luggage,” Ivar spoke his first words when you got off the plane.

Even though you would’ve appreciated a “please” you didn’t argue, waiting by the conveyor belt. “Are you going ahead?” You turned to talk to him as he was already going. It seemed as if he was incredibly successful at pushing you from his mind.

It took several minutes before you found the last of your bags. As if on cue, you heard a woman shout in danish. “You left her?” Followed by the harsh thud of a smack. “You can’t just leave your girlfriend, Ivar.” Your grasp on the language was tentative at best. You used duo lingo daily but hearing it in practice was a different beast entirely.

“She’s fine, mor.”

“If she’s dating Ivar seriously enough to visit us in another continent then she’s probably used to this by now,” a man laughed.

You could hear the annoyance grow in Iver's voice as he bickered back. You caught some of the language but less than you’d have liked. You grabbed the luggage and started to head over.

“This must be Y/N,” Aslaug walked over and you immediately recognized her, a smile on your face as you waved.

“Hey! Um— nice to meet you,” you offered your hand to shake and instead she pulled you in for a hug. Her arms wrapped around your body and you could’ve died with no regrets. Why was it so warm?

“Oh, I’d rather you not butcher the language, dear. But the attempt was lovely,” Aslaug smiled sweetly and placed her hand on your upper arm sympathetically. Her English was a lot better than your Danish. It was the nicest way you’ve ever been told to stop trying because you sucked so badly.

Your face flushed in embarrassment and you laughed. “Sorry— I’m still learning.” Maybe you should just stop if it was that bad. It sounded fine to you. You glanced over to see Ivar as he rolled his eyes at you.

His brother walked over, to introduce himself. “I’m Hvitserk, Ivar’s cooler brother. And the only one willing to tolerate him,” he flashed a grin and shook your hand.

“Then you must have great perseverance.” The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them. It was easy to forget that this was the part where you were supposed to convince people you were in love with the man.

“Is father not coming?” Ivar was quick to change the subject. He wasn’t happy with the situation— but when was he ever happy? Even the fleeting moments between the two of you managed to turn sour by the end.

“No— he had a prior engagement, but Ubbe is waiting in the car!” Aslaug tried to save the conversation, the disappointment was evident from Ivar’s face. “I’m sure you two much be tired, jet lag is killer.” She was swift to move into the next conversation, ushering them away.

You grabbed the luggage and began to roll both bags when Hvitserk stopped you. “Let me help with that. If my brother wants to let you do all the work the least I can do is offer to share the load,” he teased. “Trust me, he used to make me do his chores too.”

Hvitserk was immediately more welcoming than his brother. It made you question how the two could’ve been related at all. Ivar spared a glance, scowling at you. You took the natural course of action and scowled back. “Thanks,” you laughed and immediately eased up. “Tell me then, which one of you two is adopted. Because I highly doubt you’re related.”

How could the same family raise such opposing figures. Even if Hvitserk turned out to be some evil bottom dwelling menace, he made an effort to appear nice. You wasn’t sure you ever saw Ivar bother to do the same, at least not to a stranger.

“You wouldn’t be the first person to ask that. Ivar’s different,” Hivserk went along with it. And soon the two of you managed to easily slide into conversation. You found out a bit more about the family.

The father, Ragnar had two family trees. One with his first wife, Lagertha, with whom he had a son, Bjorn. The second was with Aslaug, and they had four children: Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd, and Ivar. Their father wasn’t married but often far from single. Bjorn is married to Gunnhild. Ubbe is married to Torvi who used to be married to Bjorn. Sigurd and Ivar didn’t get along. Some of this you knew already and the rest of the facts started to blend together.

By the time you got to the car you forgot much else that Hvitserk tried to prepare you for. Ubbe was leaning against their car. “Long time no see, my baby brother.”

Ivar rolled his eyes and tried to just enter the car but was stopped by his brother. Ubbe hugged Ivar who failed to reciprocate the hug, nearly dropping his cane from the intensity of the squeeze. The older brother didn’t seem to mind it and instead easily moved on to hug you. “At least one of you two is more affectionate, you could learn a thing or two from her, Ivar.”

—

“Don’t get too close to them,” Ivar whispered to you when you got to his family’s home. The car ride back had been filled with childhood stories of the boys, mostly Ivar. You understood why he was so agitated, they seemed to mess with him a lot. Not that you agreed with the irritation, but clearly Ivar didn’t handle it well. He was the youngest, it made sense to you. “None of this is real.”

Yet, the warning annoyed you. You wanted to get closer just to spite him. He was right, you two weren’t in a real relationship and they wouldn’t be a real family. It still wasn’t nice to say. His words distracted you from the mansion his family seemed to own.

“He didn’t tell you that we’re made of money, did he?” Hvitserk asked you with a lazy grin, he placed his arms around your shoulders. “If you’re going to become my sister then you’ll just have to get used to it.” You didn’t know his family that well but they didn’t deserve this. They were already making an effort and it was for a lie.

“Let me show you guys to your room,” Aslaug smiled. The inside of the house was just as beautiful as the outside. You never even saw something so big. It felt unreal. She showed the two of you one room. “I’m not going to bother pretending to be dumb. I know you two sleep together.”

You tried to stammer your way into a guest bedroom but she didn’t seem to be listening to you. “Dinner is at 7 if the two of you want it.” The room was on the ground floor, just outside was a view of the backyard and a river. It was huge. The only issue is that there was only one bed.

“You can stay on the floor,” Ivar answered before you could ask. The moment his mother was gone he didn’t hesitate to remind you where you were going to be sleeping. “I need the bed.”

It made sense. He had needs you didn’t. “Fine.” For some reason you expected to enter a fanfiction where there was only one bed and you were forced to share— it was evident the thought didn’t cross Ivar’s mind. “Can I at least have some pillows and blankets. I get cold.” You were more a tropical kind of person, and spent most of your life feeling cold.

“They’re in the closet.”

You watched as Ivar laid in the bed. He sighed heavily and sunk deep into it, as if finally resting. It looked like the euphoria you got from laying down after a run or a workout. Maybe he was more tired than he let on. “Is it soft?”

Ivar opened his eyes and stared at you, “what?”

“The bed, you just look really comfortable.”

He patted the side next to him. “It’s expensive. It ought to be.” You weren’t sure what he was doing at first until he did it again. “Try it.”

Tentatively, you walked over and sat down. Yours went wide as you immediately sunk into it and you were just sitting. Why is this so good? You couldn’t help but relax your body into it and lay down for a moment, just a manny. Any soreness was being sapped out. “Wow.”

“I know right.” The two of you laid there for a moment, staring at the ceiling.

Maybe you ought to try and get some money from the divorce, get yourself a mattress like this. You closed your eyes softly, your eyelids never felt so heavy.

“Now get out of my bed.” The words made your eyes shoot open. He decided it was time for you to go.

“What?”

“You’re about to fall asleep on my bed,” Ivar reminded you. “Which means you probably s shouldn’t be in it.”

You immediately got up and nearly fell on your way out. “You could’ve been nicer about it,” you glared. Being there for a moment was going to make it all the more difficult to lay on the floor. It was so hard compared to it— then again your own mattress was hard compared to his. “Did you do that just so I’d feel worse when I had to sleep on the floor? Knowing a bed like this existed just outside of my reach?”

Ivar laughed. “No. But that would’ve been a good idea. I like the way you think.”

“Are you two ready for dinner?” Aslaug knocked and entered the room.

“We’re not hungry,” Ivar answered for the both of you. You personally couldn’t agree with his statement but it was clear he wanted to be left alone from them and didn’t trust you to be alone with them.

“Get up. You have to go.” She entered the room further and before she could grab Ivar he was already up, as if repulsed by the idea of her touching him. You were quick to follow behind

Ivar grabbed his cane and started going. “Is there any reason?” Aslaug didn’t answer and instead bit her bottom lip before she left.

“What was that about,” you asked as you walked to the door. Ivar stared down where his mother left, deep in thought.

“I have a bad feeling about this. Mor is up to something.”

The two of you walked together out towards the common areas of the home when a number of people eagerly shouted, “welcome home!” It was a lot of people, and it became evident this is what Aslaug had been wanting them out of the room for.

A number of people came by to greet Ivar, he seemed ambivalent to the conversation at best and annoyed at worst. You were greeted as a secondary and remained far more polite. You knew nothing much at all and the best you do was follow, that didn’t seem to make things less annoying for Ivar. “Will you stop following me?”

“Where else would I—“

“Ivar!” An older man appeared and wrapped his arms around Ivar, a grin on his face. This was the first person Ivar didn’t instantly pull back from, and the laugh he made was genuine in response.

“Floki, you old bastard. I’m glad you could make it,” Ivar seemed to genuinely mean that. It made the whole thing even stranger to you.

Floki eyed you and then Ivar and then laughed, “how did an ugly poor cripple end up with a beautiful woman like this?” He immediately hugged you and pulled back. “Maybe it’s best not to question it. We wouldn’t want her to realize,” he winked at Ivar.

The two seemed to get along better than most and Ivar left with the man. You tried to follow but got cut off by the people who stood around talking to each other.

—

“He left you alone?”

It had been who knows how long since he had left and you hadn’t seen Ivar since. Where he was, it wasn’t here. And it was clear to you he didn’t care where ou were. Hivtserk appeared beside you and attempted to make you feel included.

“I’m used to it,” you shrugged.

Hvitserk furrowed his eyebrows, “the two of you make for an odd couple.”

Panic began to fill you. “I— no. Not really. We’re very real.” The words were dumb and you hated yourself for having made the sentence at all. “Normal, I mean, normal.” None of that made it better.

“Then you love him?” If Hvitserk didn’t believe you then he didn’t show it. The truth was harder to believe. That you were pretending to marry your boss so he could stay in the US and give you some big promotion.

“What? N—“ you couldn’t say no, “not yet. Or maybe.” You admired the man. But this was all fake. Still, he never appeared more human than in these past few days. It just sucked that he was never willing to keep doing that. Whenever he relaxed he was so quick to correct himself.

Hvitserk laughed at you, “then you probably do. He’s a difficult man to love but I’ve managed it.” How Ivar find it in himself to not talk to his family more, or show them more care? “I can tell from the way you look at him sometimes.”

Your face got flushed. You had to keep reminding yourself this whole thing was fake. Hvitserk was expecting these sorts of things and said them. Just like your coworkers. None of this was real. Yet, it felt easy to want to get swept away. “Well— I’m not sure if we’re quite there. He certainly isn’t.”

His brother shrugged, “maybe. But I’ve ever seen him let anyone tease him without getting hit with his cane for as long as you have. And he doesn’t bring women around to the family. That has to mean something.”

You knew why you were meeting his family. It was the same reason he seemed to tolerate this but— it was different. You wanted to be different. It would feel nicer that way, and you couldn’t quite understand why. Every soft moment lingered in your memory for too long and you desperately wanted to hold onto them. “Maybe,” your eyes caught Ivar.

It was the first time he was so casual and seemed relaxed. He was gorgeous. You allowed yourself more time to just stare at him, knowing he was none the wiser. “You’re good for him.”

“I certainly like to think I am.”

“Good,” Hvitserk responsed. “So where are you from?”

He started to ask question upon question about your origins and your life story. He seeemd more interested than anyone else here. You admitted you weren’t from money and that you were trying to make a name for yourself in New York.

“So how’d you meet Ivar?”

“I actually work for him,” you admitted. “He might act like a dick most the time but it’s gotten some amazing results. I admire what he can do, I just wished he went about it more... humanely,” you laughed.

Hivtserk watched you carefully, “fair enough. He was never very personable. And that doesn’t bother you?”

It did. A lot. “No.”

“Then maybe you two are suited for each other.”

The two of you weren’t. “I like to think to.”

—

Taglist** @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927

#ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless x reader #Vikings #forgive my writing

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The Proposal | Chapter Three

The Proposal Masterlist

Summary: The Proposal™ au, where Ivar gets swept away in a lie about a fake engagement to stay in the country and needs to convince everyone (including his family) that he’s genuinely engaged to a woman he works with

Warnings: mild swearing, mentions of death

Word Count: 2,582

The day you left you had to tell everyone at the office. They’d be grilled the next week anyways. “You’re lying,” Paola laughed and she hit your arm, hard.

“Am not!” Your face got red, caught in a lie. But no one seemed to actually question it. Several people congratulated you as you collected your work laptop.

“I always knew you two would be a thing. It makes so much sense why all those guys didn’t work out,” Kara shook her head at you with a lazy grin.

Admittedly, you didn’t love the fact that everyone seemed to love bringing up your failed relationships. “Was it that obvious?” Were they actually hedging the bets they kept talking about.

“You’re the only person he never yelled at, defend him more than any of us do, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody talk back to him and not get fired. Either he was secretly in love with you or you were dating.”

You knew better than that. “He’s not—“ but he was supposed to be. No one even listened to you, they were all too busy talking about how they always knew or suspected. That “the tension was just always there”. On any other day you’d tell the truth. That neither of you actually liked the other, you just both recognized the other for what they were: competent. You liked that about him, Ivar actually knew what he was doing. As much as you liked your coworkers on personal levels, most of them weren’t that smart. They lacked ambition.

Your silence went unnoticed but soon was joined by the rest of the office when Ivar arrived. Despite the earlier cheers about your romance with him they still didn’t have it in them to talk openly around him.

“Are you ready?”

You nodded your head and grabbed your bag. What you weren’t expecting was his free hand to grab yours. Maybe it was all the talk from your coworkers but your face instantly flushed and you became thankful he wasn’t looking at you.

When you entered the elevator he dropped it. “I wanted them to have proof,” he explained unprompted. “They needed some evidence if we’re going to convince Millington.”

“They didn’t need it,” you admitted. He stiffened and looked down at you. His blue eyes became squinted, you could tell he wanted more than just those words. Ivar needed an explanation. “They acted as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Said you were in love with me,” you teased him at the last part. Despite being nervous you found yourself wanting to edge him on. Maybe looking for proof yourself.

Ivar looked back to the center of the elevator. “Well, they never knew me much anyways. But I didn’t think they took me as a man of poor taste”

You nearly choked on air. “You? Poor taste? What about me. They think I’m dating a psychopath!” All that time being spent under his harsh stare had built up some anger. Maybe Ivar got to release it on occasion but you didn’t. It didn’t help that as soon as you wanted to think better of him he had to go out of his way to insult you.

Ivar took a deep breath and glared at the elevator doors rather than you. “I should have you fired.”

“Go ahead. Fire me. Have fun getting permanently removed from the US. I’m sure your family will love to hear it,” you were bold now. But it wouldn’t last.

He turned his head to stare down at you. “I have a home to go back to. You have 5 years in a cell, and from what you said in the interview it looks like you have no one to visit you.” His jaw was tensed.

Your mouth fell open and your face twitched as you struggled to respond to that. Maybe you pushed his buttons a bit much. He was right. You had more to lose.

“That’s what I thought,” Ivar turned back away from you. “You have more to lose than I do. So maybe start acting like it.”

—

His words burned in the back of your mind the whole way to the airport. They didn’t leave your mind even while you were on the plane. Ivar had a way of grabbing at people’s insecurities. You probably only survived as long as you did because he knew nothing about you at all. This whole engagement was going to change that. It was a little terrifying.

“I figured we could play a game.” You broke the silence. Ivar didn’t seem to mind it. He had a pair of 1st class seats with extra leg room. His legs and braces were stretched out comfortably, meanwhile you found yourself tense. “See how well we know each other— or at least can guess. If that Millington guy is going to quiz us we may as well study.”

Ivar rolled his eyes and ignored your plea at first. His eyes stared out the window of the plane and watched the clouds.

“Just because you think you’re better than this doesn’t mean you are. Can you please at least try?” You asked him, your hand reached out to grab his arm. The moment it made contact his head snapped in your direction and he stared you down.

“Fine.” He was annoyed, and you regretted your decision already. “Do I like being touched.” It was a statement not a question.

“No?”

“Then don't do it.”

The two of you remained in silence for a while. Your headphones died within the first few hours and you regretted not remembering to charge them before you left.

Ivar occasionally kept glancing back at you. The hours seemed to pass by at an excruciatingly slow pace. “What’s my favorite color?”

The question pulled you from your boredom and you sat up straight, thrown off from it. “What?” Your brows furrowed in confusion.

He rolled his eyes as if he just said the most obvious again. “Don’t make me repeat it. I’m trying to throw you a bone.”

What was his favorite color? “It feels like a trick question,” you bit her bottom lip in thought. “You like dark colors, but you’re tied for your favorite. Red and green. Unrelated to Christmas, I never got the feeling you liked the holiday that much.”

The fact that you knew the answer to the question threw Ivar off. “Fine. What’s my zodiac sign?”

“Scorpio.”

“What’s my mother’s name.”

“Aslaug.”

The questions soon got more obscure, as if he was trying to find something you didn’t know. But you spent a long time working for this man, and he was so damn particular about most things that you had to know most of this.

“When did I start physical therapy.”

You paused, thinking hard. Admittedly, you didn’t know. He never talked about his legs or condition. You always got the feeling he ignored it on purpose, and perhaps that was why he asked. “I’m guessing elementary school. You clearly started young but not too young, kids below five tend to be too fussy.” It was a logic problem more or less.

“Get more specific.”

“Second grade— when you were seven.”

A shot in the dark, but if you got one question wrong out of the countless that he was asking then it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

Ivar laughed and the sound of it made your face flushed. It wasn’t evil or spiteful like you were used to, and you kinda wanted to hear more of it. “How? How do you know all of this?”

“I honestly had no idea about the last one,” you admitted with a shaky laugh. “I think I’m just lucky.” You had a knack for strong guesses. Then again, maybe you were just good at using context clues. “But you’re—“ an asshole seemed too harsh. “Particular. You like things a certain way and I work closely under you.”

The phrase “under you” brought forth less than pure thought and you immediately turned your head away. It wasn’t like he’d catch on. This whole thing was strictly professional anyhow. Not your ideal first marriage— oh no, you’re going to have multiple marriages.

“It’s creepy. You should stop it.” He didn’t mean that, and despite how harsh the tone appeared you didn’t feel offended by it.

“It’s only creepy since you know nothing about me.” There was no one. Two days ago he didn’t even know your last name, there was no way he knew anywhere close as much as he knew.

“Try me. Maybe you’ll be kind enough to share your luck with me.”

He was charming. You felt charmed. The smile on his face put you at ease, enough to not think of the consequences of a game like this. “Fine.” You took a deep breath and tried to think of an easy question. “How long have I been working for you?”

“Three years.”

“Good.” He knew it faster than you expected. “What's my middle name?”

Ivar looked you over and tried matching names. “I don’t know… Haley?”

You couldn’t help the slight laugh that escaped your lips. “Uh— no. It’s Y/MN. The attempt was nice though, it’s more effort than you normally would put in. Okay— how about where I’m from?”

“Wyoming. You seem… like you enjoy.. corn?” There was no way he meant that as an answer. Did anyone actually live there?

You told him where you were actually from. At first he seemed receptive but eventually it descended into him being more and more frustrated that he didn’t know a single thing.

“I don’t fucking know the answer to that. Why would I possibly know that!”

You flinched back, blinking in surprise at the outburst. It only seemed to set him off more. “It was just a question—“

“Why does any of this even matter? So what if I don’t pay attention to you!” He snapped.

Admittedly, the words kinda stung. Even if it was true and obvious. “That didn’t stop you from begging me to marry you!”

Ivar laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “You’re a means to an end. That’s all you’ve been this whole time.” It was as if he was searching for any string of words to get at you.

“You don’t think I know that? It’s why all of us can hardly stand you— if at all!” You got up and walked down to asile, needing a moment to yourself.

“It’s off then.” He seethed, his voice lowered but the tone was there. It stopped you in your tracks.

“What?”

“Go home, Y/N.”

You walked back, holding your hand up as you tried to formulate a response. “I’m not going to prison for you.” You could only imagine what the rest of the people on the flight were thinking. “So what you’re going to do is stop acting like an asshole. I’m marrying you. I’m getting promoted. We’ll convince your family and then have a beautifully amicable divorce!” You started to yell the last few words, frustrated with the situation. You let out a deep breath, your chest heaving.

Ivar crossed his arms and turned back to face the seat in front of him. “Fine. But I get to keep the kitchenware.”

“What?” The response left you perplexed enough that all the anger dissipated.

“At weddings. People give kitchenware don't they? I want it.” Ivar didn’t look at you. He was more calm than you expected him to be.

It brought forth a question you hadn’t been sure of before. Were the two of you going to have a real wedding? “Okay.” Your voice was quiet. You didn’t want to delve into these types of questions after your outburst.

—

“They’re staring.”

The two of you went back to silence after that. Ivar had diffused the situation so easily and you didn’t fight it. You weren’t a naturally confrontational person, but these past few days were the first times you could speak your mind back. Maybe you went overboard.

Ivar had been glancing past you. He eyed a couple of women who kept looking over at him and whispering. You turned your head to follow. “Maybe.”

It was clear he didn’t like that sort of attention. In the office he always liked having control over people. He knew when he exited the elevator that the room went silent, people went to work. They feared him. He heard it in the elevator, the truth had slipped into conversation a while back. Why did being looked at bother him now.

“I don’t like it.”

“I’m not too surprised,” he glared when you spoke, “calm down. I mentioned going to prison, getting a divorce, you mentioned marrying me and called me a means to an end. We caused a scene.”

You weren’t used to the attention, but surely Ivar must be by now. “Besides, you should be used to stares from people. You’re beautiful, people stare at beautiful people.” You had felt the need to elaborate before he got angry again. Part of you had the feeling it had something to do with his legs. That everyone silently judged him as weak for it.

A smirk graced his lips, “you think I’m beautiful?” You didn’t expect him to mess with you. But he did. “It’s very unprofessional.”

“I have eyes,” you glanced back again to look at the women, you didn’t want to face him and they were a reasonable excuse. “But you have a personality that makes even Reagan look like a saint. Everything else about you distracts from that, not that they know it.”

But you did. You had been woken up to a rude awakening that Ivar liked berating people and kicking puppies. “Then they’ll never believe we’re a couple.”

The words brought you out of your quick thought. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m far too beautiful for you. Besides, it’s clear I’m wealthy and you’re not.” He, too, had his head turned to watch the women. The two of them looked away, engrossed in conversation. “It’s far too unrealistic.” Your head finally turned back to him, and he turned his head to you. He had a look of pretend innocence on his face. “What? Too honest?” A grin then formed in an amused response to your displeasure.

“Then you ought to get better at pretending to find me attractive, or you can kiss America goodbye.” A smirk soon settled on your face. “And despite how much you try and claim you don’t care, if you came back unemployed compared to the rest of your brothers you’d utterly hate it. You’d be the family failure.”

“And you’ll be a felon. I’d say you'd be the family felon, but you’d actually have to have family to be that.”

You scoffed in response, trying to formulate words. “Whatever.” You were tired of being left speechless and struggling. You grabbed cheap airplane headphones and closed your eyes. You were going to force yourself to sleep. But it hurt. You hated that he knew things about you. Everything he knew he’d use against you. He did it to others and it was clear he didn’t mind using the same weapons against you. It was a reminder of everything you didn’t have. And he seemed to waste his. He didn’t mind lying or betraying his family—

You tried not to choke on your own words, your head laid against the headrest, “wake me up when we land.”

—

Taglist** @youbloodymadgenius

#ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless x reader #Vikings #I’m a mess #idk why I like writing dickish behavior #I could do a chapter of just playground insults #I’m in quarantine so I’m just writing a chapter a dau #but I’m days ahead in case I slip up #all my friends have covid now #im just dodging this pandemic

[backalley-requests]

The Proposal | Chapter Two

The Proposal Masterlist

Summary: The Proposal™ au, where Ivar gets swept away in a lie about a fake engagement to stay in the country and needs to convince everyone (including his family) that he’s genuinely engaged to a woman he works with

Warnings: Mild swearing, dickish behavior

Word Count: 2,085

That’s how you found yourself sitting down for a meeting next to your boss, pretending the two of you were in love and set to get married. You were more outwardly nervous than him and your leg was bouncing. It made a quiet but consistant tap on the floor.

“Will you cut that out,” Ivar snapped.

You stopped bouncing your foot and glared at him. “I’m nervous.” It wasn’t a voluntary action but it helped with the nerves. Your head tilted up to the ceiling. The office was small and the two of you sat in chairs next to each other. Across from you was an empty desk. The case worker wasn’t here yet. Was this normal? It was 10 am but felt much earlier, and the silence was so loud. The two of you never had normal conversations.

“Don’t be, it’s annoying.”

Did he expect you to remain a calm worker under these conditions? It wasn’t like he could fire you. Both of you risked losing if you didn’t stick around. It felt like a sick game of chicken. “How can I not be? We’re here because you—“

The conversation was cut short by the metal door opening. It felt like a prison, as if the two of you were being detained and Ivar didn’t even want to discuss a game plan. He had actually rolled his eyes when you asked for one.

The man was dressed in a black suit and tie, his hair was short and his face shaven. “Shall we begin?” He lacked pleasantries and it only added to your growing paranoia. There was no handshake or introduction. The man jumped into it. Immediately you felt yourself zoning in and out. Half the time you were thinking too much to listen and the other half was spent committing it to memory.

Ivar nodded confidently, evening out to a neutral. How were you supposed to project that same level of confidence? He appeared so unbothered and you stuck out like a sore thumb. The interviewer took notice. “Step one will be a scheduled interview and I’ll ask you every little question a real couple would know about each other.”

That was easy. You already knew way too much about the man. He shoved off too much personal responsibilities onto you that he didn’t want to do. You even wrote his Christmas cards at this point.

“Step two, I dig deeper, I look at your phone records, I talk to your neighbors, interview your coworker.”

The two of you didn’t have a story. The two of you communicated often for work but they weren’t out to anyone. Well— technically the two of you didn’t have a relationship to be out about. You glance over at Ivar who didn’t bother to look back at you. He seemed so eerily calm while all you could do was panic.

You were pretty sure you missed something important by the time you glanced back to the interviewer. Did you miss his name? Did he even offer one? Your leg began to bounce again.

“If your answers don’t match up at every point. You will be deported indefinitely,” he looked at Ivar, “and you will have committed a felony. Punishable by a fine of 250,000 dollars and a stay of 5 years in federal prison.” His gaze turned to you and you froze.

The sound of your heart beating drowned out whatever the man said next. It didn’t take long for both men to notice. You were in too deep. You couldn’t do this! Why did you even bother agreeing?

“Y/N?” The interviewer asked.

You couldn’t handle prison. You never even got into a fight before in your life. You’ve seen prison shows, they’re always fighting. They’d eat you alive.

“Y/N, do you want to talk to me?”

Ivar elbowed you harsh but discreetly. His blue eyes were intense and it brought you back to your reality. You had already spent three years working for him. Another two at the company. Being fired wasn’t an option and you’ve been dying to get promoted since you came there. If you could pull it off... what’s three years on paper? You blinked and nodded your head.

“You do?”

“Wait no— I mean I don’t.” You took a deep breath and held it. This man had to see right through it from the moment he walked in.

“The truth is…” you glanced at Ivar, “we’re just two people who weren’t meant to fall in love. But we did. Six months ago. We weren’t going to come out to our coworkers, not until we didn’t think they’d judge us,” your face was red and you found yourself staring down into your lap as you played with your fingers. “Especially with my promotion coming up.”

You paused, trying to see if what you said convinced him at all. “So, have either of you told your parents about your… secret love?” The interviewer wrote down notes onto a notepad.

“Oh, um, impossible. My parents are dead,” you admitted casually with an awkward laugh. “No brothers or sisters either. You can check if you want—“

“I will.”

The silence was deafening.

“What about you, Ivar? Are yours dead?”

Ivar scoffed at the mention of his family. It was clear to you that on some level he truly thought he was above being here. How could he be so casual?

You decided to cut in, “no. We were going to tell them this weekend. It’s his father’s birthday. The whole family is coming together. We thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

Once the lies began it was hard to stop them. But the event was true but Ivar’s attendance wasn’t. He had you tell them he wasn’t going. But as you spoke you got more confident.

“And where exactly is this going to take place?” The man was quizzing you.

“Aalborg, Denmark. It’s located along Kattegat Bay,” you replied. Ivar’s face twitched in surprise that you knew it at all. Your face never quite calmed down and kept a pinkish hue.

The interviewer stared intently at you, searching for signs.

“That’s right,” Ivar cut in, trying to save you.

“Isn’t Denmark a little far?”

“Well it’s not like I have a visa to lose at this point,” Ivar rolled his eyes.

The interviewer shrugged. “Next Friday at 10am, I expect you both to be here for the scheduled interviews.”

—

“What was your fucking problem? You may as well have worn a sign that we’re trying to commit a felony?”

You were floored. Did he actually want to start things off like this. “Like you were much better? You looked pissed off and detached! If you wanted better results maybe you should’ve interjected more.”

“It was fun to watch you flounder until I realized your actions have consequences,” he shrugged casually. What was wrong with him? “And now Mr. Harold Millington is going to be lurking through my family.” Oh that’s what the man’s name was. Had it shared that? Did you actually miss it?

“Just tell your family then. Have them lie.” If they were anything like Ivar then being manipulative should be in their nature.

Ivar rubbed the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. “They wouldn’t agree to it.” It meant they had to go. That created the new fact that you had sentenced the both of them on a trip to Denmark. It was that or he gets sent home forever and you’re in federal prison. “How did you even know that?”

“Know what?”

“About my father’s birthday.”

“You had me send them condolences,” you crossed your arms over your chest and rolled your eyes. “I actually know a ton of things about you. It’s you who has a week to learn everything about me.”

He stood before you in his bitterness. He didn’t deny your statement. It was one thing to have marriage papers and never speak of it again for three years and another to pretend to his family that he was in an actual relationship. His mor had wanted it forever now. “Book the flights, since you’re so used to doing everything for me.”

You had a laundry list of people to contact and he expected you to book flights? Your gut instinct was to tell everyone the truth and convince them to lie to the authorities, but that seemed a little much to ask. “It’s your home, why don’t you book them?”

The two of you continued to bicker when the interviewer from earlier stepped out of the building. The two of you immediately silenced as Millington walked by, “remember. Deportation and federal prison. It’s not too late to come clean.”

The smug look on his face pissed you off. You watched the man walk further away and down the block. “I may not like you, Ivar, but I like you more than that guy,” you said bitterly as your eyes remained trained on the agent in the distance.

“At least we agree on that.”

“I want him to feel like a moron.”

“So then let’s do that,” Ivar’s words caught your attention as you glanced back to him. “He knows the truth but if we make it rock solid he’ll have no choice. It’ll drive him insane.”

You laughed, “I probably should’ve guessed your favorite pass time was belittling people and making them regret their life choices.”

“I liked you better when you just delivered coffee,” Ivar responded. The same anger from earlier was gone but that didn’t stop Ivar from starting to walk away from you. You were left standing, irrationally angry at that decision. Civilities were out the window. He had nothing over you anymore. Neither could pull the plug. And he’s been on your nerves for a while. How did you ever find that man attractive?

“Goodbye to you too, asshole!”

—

“I’m coming back for the week,” Ivar held the phone to his ear, waiting for his mother’s response. If he was being honest he was actually a little nervous about it. He actually loved his mother. The rest of them were hit or miss. But he hadn’t been back home in a long time.

“Really?”

The excitement in her voice got to him, not that he’d confess it. “I was going to introduce my girlfriend to you guys.” He hated lying.

“You have a girlfriend?” He hadn’t even mentioned the idea of one to her in forever. Not since he left Denmark for the last time. She’d been pestering forever. “Since when did you get a girlfriend?”

“Mor—“ he took a deep breath and sighed, “she works for me.”

“Oh— so it’s one of those situations.”

Was she judging him already? “Just be prepared for her.” He noticed the dip in her voice and he bit hard on his bottom lip.

“Your father is going to be so happy to have you home.” Aslaug started to talk more about it. He was surprised she wasn’t fuming at the mention of his old man. It occurred to him then that maybe his family missed him more than he realized. She was already making plans, doting on him for finding someone and talking about how relieved she is that her son found someone. “Hey Ivar— is she beautiful?” He was brought out of his thoughts by the question.

Were you? He already knew the answer. You were. It wasn’t a crazy thought. Ivar always thought you were beautiful. From the moment you walked into his office the first day holding a cup of his favorite coffee— how you ever found out before meeting him he’ll never know. It’s what told him you were beyond him. There was a hint of too much perfection that he had immediately felt anger. That anger eventually settled to annoyance.

But if he actually hated you he probably would’ve fired you by now. The issue is that you’d never genuinely go for him. He had his own love life of sorts, money speaks for itself, he could get laid. What he couldn’t get was more, who would genuinely date him? It was easier to resent than pine.

“Yes.”

Aslaug laughed on the other end, “you took a little long there to respond, Ivar.”

“Sorry— she is, mor, I’m just busy with some work. I’ll call you before the plane leaves.”

“Please do. Oh, and Ivar, dear. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

—

Taglist** @youbloodymadgenius

#ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless #Vikings #the proposal #I feel like it’ll have to start picking up soon #but I kinda like some moments #I really woke up at 5pm today huh....

[backalley-requests]

The Proposal | Chapter One

The Proposal Masterlist

Summary: The Proposal™ au, where Ivar gets swept away in a lie about a fake engagement to stay in the country and needs to convince everyone (including his family) that he’s genuinely engaged to a woman he works with

Warnings: use of the word cripple, mild swearing

Word Count: 1,967

With two cups of coffee in hand and a binder under your left arm, you exited the elevator. It was a delicate balancing act and you already managed to drop the binder once... five blocks from here. Admittedly, the coffees were far more important than that.

“Good morning, Y/N!”

Your head spun around to greet your coworker, a grin on your face. “Well good morning, Paola.” Work was always more pleasant before the boss came in. You walked over and sat upon her desk, enjoying the few minutes of chatter everybody engaged in. It wouldn’t last much longer.

“Did you enjoy your date this weekend,” Paola asked as she looked up on you.

You gave an over dramatic groan and rolled your eyes. “I’d rather not be reminded of it. All he did was talk about his exes. Look, here’s some solid advice, Polly. When a guy says all his exes are crazy he’s probably the problem.”

Granted, you still went out with him to begin with. It was a testament to your own bad taste. “What a shame,” Paola huffed as she leaned back in her seat. “I made a bet earlier with Kara that you’d really hit it off with him.”

“I’ll consider that your karma for making bets about my love life then,” you teased.

The building settled into small talk. You talked more about past relationships and Paola encouraged you to find someone. She was currently engaged, and you figured she wanted someone to relate to her.

“The Tyrant has entered the building!”

A quick warning call from the cubical closest to the elevator. All chatter immediately stopped and people rushed to their desks and pretended to be busy on sight. You hoped off of your friend’s desk and picked your stuff up again. “I’ll talk to you later,” you winked at her.

Right on cue the sound of heavy steps and a cane came from the elevator and out stepped your boss. Ivar Lothbrok. He wore a permanent scowl on his face as he walked by, straight to his office.

When you first got transferred to the department you had been excited to finally get to work with him. The man was handsome as hell. Dark hair, piercing blue eyes, tall. He looked like a dream. His accent didn’t help either. Your dreams had prepared you for some steamy forbidden love office romance, and instead you woke up to the realization that the man was the closest thing to a psychopath you ever met.

As Ivar headed to his office you immediately followed. You knocked twice on the door and entered as usual. “Good morning, Mr. Lothbrok,” you grinned. He didn’t glance up from his desk, his eyes buried in paperwork.

“Set it down on the desk.”

You placed the coffee on his desk and left. There was a routine to things. He stopped being as angry with you even if he was never friendly. You were probably the only person in the office who didn’t get yelled at anymore. Any anger on your end was hidden behind locked lips.

On your way out the door you bumped into Trevor Taylor, the man not bothering to mind his steps as he stormed into the office. You didn’t bother looking back and whistled. It was difficult to hide your amusement. Every so often people came in, screamed obscenities, and got dragged away by security.

—

“You’re firing me!” The voice boomed through the office and every worker immediately stopped. “You can’t fire me, you need me!”

Ivar didn’t glance up, ignoring the postering.

“And you can’t even look at me,” Trevor shook his head. “What are you? Deaf now too? Answer me!” His hands slammed down on the desk.

“Don’t you think an outburst like this is exactly why you’re getting fired?” Ivar’s blue eyed remained frozen. Normally he wouldn’t hesitate to get into a shouting match, say something to make the man cry and watch him leave. The difference today was that Trevor Taylor desired attention so badly that to deny him was more satisfying. Trevor worked himself up to a breaking point. “You should pack your things before we throw them out, Trevor.”

“I’m invaluable to this company. You know that. You’re bluffing.”

“You’re a bad worker. You turn things in late and underperform in everything you do.” The words easily slipped out as Ivar flipped through a file.

“I’m not getting fired from a guy who can’t even chase me down a flight of stairs.”

Those words got to Ivar. The man had had it coming for a while now. “The only reason you lasted this long is that everyone pitied you after your wife slept with your brother. But I didn’t. And I still don’t.” He closed the file and stared up at Trevor.

“You crippled fuck!” Trevor grabbed the coffee and squeezed until it burst open across Ivar’s face and down his suit.

“Get the fuck out of here!” Ivar stood up, grabbing his cane as tightly as he could; thankful the coffee didn’t drip down to his braces. It took everything to avoid throwing something at the man, but he couldn’t deal with another lawsuit like that. “Security,” he called out.

__

Two men came in and Trevor was dragged out kicking and screaming. Everyone in the office watched with great intent. Ivar came out of his office next, drenched in coffee and thankful he preferred cold drinks.

You eyed him and hesitated for a moment before you decided he might need help, even if he didn’t want it. You got up and followed behind him, grabbing the spare coffee.

You found him just inside a private bathroom. The door wasn’t locked and you entered as if you weren’t straight up entering a bathroom.

“I take it that was another successful firing,” you teased to lighten up the mood. He glanced back, his stare shot daggers into your soul. “He had it coming. I don’t think anyone’s taking his side.” You had heard the words being shouted. It hadn’t taken long for Trevor to bring up the man’s legs a few extra times before security arrived times. He had done it in private many times before.

Ivar took off his suit jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt. Your eyes couldn’t stop themselves as they stared down his chest. You bit your bottom lip and pried your eyes away. “I don’t care what they think.”

You knew he did. It was your job to know everything about him. You hated him half the time but there was no way Ivar was as evil as he portrayed. “You can have my coffee,” you placed it on the sink counter next to him.

He grabbed it and took a sip. A moment later he eyed you with amusement. “And I’m assuming it’s not a coincidence we have the same taste in coffee.”

“I’m clumsy. Plus, I had a feeling Trevor wasn't about to respond well to being fired,” you admitted sheepishly.

“I should have you fired for ass kissing.”

“What—“, you blinked in surprise.

“Grab my spare from the office.” He didn’t elaborate and sent you on an errand. “And then take these to the cleaners.” He handed you the stained close.

You nodded your head and left.

—

“What do you mean my visa is revoked?” Ivar demanded as he sat before his superiors in his office. “I’m supposed to get my citizenship by Friday?”

“You violated the terms of agreement. You left the country.”

“I went to Quebec! It’s hardly outside the US! And mind you, it was for this company.” Ivar was angry now, this whole thing was ridiculous. “Look— I’ll just reapply again and figure it out all. In the meantime I can relocate back to Europe for a little while.”

“We can’t have you employed here if you aren’t a citizen or have a visa.” The man before Ivar admitted, “and the process is going to take over a year.”

“So what are you saying?”

Ivar already knew the answer, but he needed to hear them say it.

“Unless you can find a way to legally stay here you can’t work for the company.”

Ivar laughed, “you don’t have anyone else even half as qualified as me.”

“Trevor Taylor.”

“I just fired the guy, he doesn’t even work here,” Ivar scoffed. His hands crossed over his chest as he leaned back in the chair. This whole ordeal was ridiculous. Why was he even putting up with this?

“Well I’m sure he’s looking for a new job then.”

Ivar remained silent for a moment, his brain worked fast to find some sort of loophole. He couldn’t just go back home unemployed to his family.

The sound of the office door opening pulled him from his thoughts. He turned his head and saw you there, anger swelling up inside him. You had came to bring back his dry cleaning. Ivar was on edge and anything would set him over expect—

“Actually this won’t be a problem at all,” Ivar stood up and he walked over to you and placed his free arm over your shoulders, confusion clear on your face. “Because we’re getting married.”

“You are?”

You were frozen, unsure of what you walked in on.

“Exactly. We didn’t want to spoil the whole thing, office etiquette and stuff. But it’s true, we’re madly in love. And since we’re getting married I’ll be staying in the US just fine,” Ivar said.

“I get it, we’ve all had an office romance or two. So long as you get it approved I don’t see a problem with it.” The man said. It was clear he was also looking for any plausible excuse to keep Ivar around. Despite the fearsome reputation, Ivar was great for the company.

The two men exchanged goodbyes while you remained dazed, but rather than question things while Ivar’s boss was in the room you waited until the man left.

“I’m not marrying you.”

“Yes, you are.”

“What just happened?”

“That trip to Quebec cost me my visa. If I don’t have one I can’t stay.” Ivar said so simply, moving back behind his desk.

“I’m forgetting the part where this is my problem?” Considering the fact that Ivar was suddenly pairing you off as engaged you figured you deserved to sit in the chair as you argued with him.

Ivar paused for a moment, the gears turning in his head. “Trevor will replace me if I go. He hates you as much as me right now, so unless you don’t want to be out of a job I suggest you agree. It’s only three years. We don’t even have to live together.”

The whole idea sounded ridiculous but in some aspects he was right. You’d lose your job. You spent far too many souless years working here and the idea of starting over was terrifying. “Well— what if I actually wanted to get married?”

“It’ll take a lot longer than three years for you to convince anyone to marry you,” Ivar said simply as he went back to his work. The deal was sealed in his mind.

You struggled to formulate a response. “Fine. But I get a promotion.”

His blue eyes found yours. “And why would I do that, Y/N?”

You blinked in response. It should’ve been obvious why. “I— well I’m the reason you’re keeping your job. You owe me too. That’s three years of my life for your benefit.”

The offer was made and he was forced to think. “Fine.” His hands were tied and he hated it. “Do you want anything else”, annoyance was evident in his tone.

“A proposal.”

“What?”

“A proper one.”

Ivar’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t care for the idea and admittedly a part of him wasn’t sure he could. He couldn’t get down on one knee. “I’m not doing that.”

A moment of silence passed before you gave up. “Fine. But at least say it. Like you mean it.” You were being petty but it was the least this guy could do.

He took a deep breath and stared at you with intent. “Y/N—“ Ivar stopped himself and paused.

“Do you not know my last name?”

There was more silence as you both eyed each other.

“Will you just marry me.” Ivar concealed any embarrassment he felt over the situation. He appeared tense and a little angry. This was a better proposal than you expected from him, all things considered.

“Yes.”

#ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #the proposal #Vikings #I’m not like— good at writing but I like it #so... #bare with me

[backalley-requests]

The Proposal | Masterlist

Summary: The Proposal au, where Ivar gets swept away in a lie about a fake engagement to stay in the country and needs to convince everyone (including his family) that he’s genuinely engaged to a woman he works with

Chapters Posted: 7/13

Chapters Written: 7/13

Chapter One: The Proposal

Chapter Two: The Interview

Chapter Three: The Flight

Chapter Four: The Family

Chapter Five: The Party

Chapter Six: The Day In

Chapter Seven: The Ex

#the proposal #Masterlist #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #nobody is gonna read this but i started this in 2021 #and it's haunted me ever since #i'm currently secretly finishing it #although to start i'm rewriting all previous chapters #rewrite is a little generous i'm making big edits but going line by line as i do it #when i finish the series i'll begin posting again for my own sanity #i don't expect anyone to read it but i'll feel better knowing it's finished and out there for anyone who finds it interesting

[backalley-requests]

Hi! Can I please have a ship for the MCU and Harry Potter if you do that (it’s totally fine if you don’t) okay so I’m 4’11, have long black hair and brown eyes, I’m an ENTJ, I’m very sassy, blunt, and competitive. I’m very passionate about politics, football, and traveling. I tend to have a short temper (I don’t deal with bs), I can be very stubborn and hot headed as well. I love photography and I’m very sensitive (though most don’t see it) overall I’m just a pretty complex person. Thank you sm!

Here you go! And yes I still do Harry Potter, JK Rowling didn’t do anything new I didn’t already dislike her for. The series belongs to the fans now and as long as I can acknowledge the bad in it I can still cherish the good it brought to my childhood. Regardless! I hope you like it!

I ship you with...

Marvel

Sam Wilson

He’s an all American kind of guy and definitely loves football. The two of you spend your Sunday nights watching the games and placing cheap bets like who I going to do the dishes. It’s pure fun. You also host the Super Bowl at your house every year and invite every superhero within a one planet radius.

Your relationship is filled with a lot of short quips between each other, usually blunt jokes that poke fun at one another. They’re always harmless but have an edge of a competitive spirit. It usually results in harmless banter about who is going to lose to the other and meaningless taunts. “Oh you wanna go?”s and “in your condition? I’d beat you in a heartbeat”s.

He’s so used to giving and gives it his all for his friends and those he loves. It takes a big toll on him. Similar to you he wears that kind of burden so well that most never notice. You do though, because you feel the same way a lot. You’re sensitive and you see it when he goes overboard into helping you feel better. Sam pours his all into everything.

The two of you get to travel a lot, his work as the new Captain America sending him all over the world. At first he was apprehensive about having you come along, he couldn’t bare the thought of losing you, but you love traveling and him and the idea of having to sit at home was a fate worse than death.

You sent the Christmas cards. You’re more heartfelt when you write them and it gives an excuse to send your photography to all your friends and family. Sam doesn’t just dump that on your or anything, he hangs around and helps select pictures he thinks each person on would appreciate the most and the two of you end up coming up with the most unique set of Christmas cards anyone’s probably ever done.

Don’t even get me started on the Fourth of July. It’s probably the biggest holiday around. Lots of arguments over politics, you and Sam are a powerful combo, and overzealous American based competitions. Even when the country seems to be tearing itself apart you two manage to hold onto the American dream. You can disparage this country as quick as the next person but you take a day to indulge in what makes it full of hope: and one of those people is Sam.

“I don’t know if I can do it.” Those are the first words you hear as Sam tosses the shield onto the kitchen table. This wasn’t his usual warm greetings but the man had nothing else to say. He didn’t even know where to begin, had no idea how to admit he still couldn’t cope with losing his best friend. That no matter how hard he was trying to be Captain America that he didn’t feel like he truly was what Steve had been.

You stared, unsure how to handle it as you took a step forward. Whatever had happened today was a major setback in this whole operation. “What happened?” You knew it was a horrible transition period already. Sam looked nothing like the Captain America the world had grew to accept. The cards were stacked against him from the start. Nobody believed he was good enough and the public thought it was their right to scrutinize him at every turn. Usually he kept his head up about but something changed.

Sam hesitated to take any steps forward. The world may have been saved but things were far from over. “I stopped a robbery on broadway, I caught the perps and had them tied up before police arrived. And the hostage— she screamed at me, afraid I’d hurt her no matter what I did to try and mend her fears. And when the cops did show up they started shooting at me.” He was slowly breaking in front of you and you didn’t have any idea what to do with it. “They called me some imposter, insinuated that I was a common criminal. That there was something innate in me that would never be good enough. And they called for backup when I ran.”

The world was more uncertain that ever before. After the second snap and Tony’s sacrifice the world failed to pick itself back up and begin moving. “Don’t listen to them, alright? Steve had it easy. The government paraded him around like some show pony for the troops. He got a grandiose opening.” You racked through the memories as you tried to find a way to comfort him. “But you’re stronger. You needed to be. You show up as a hero in the worst time in history and you don’t get an introduction.”

“I just don’t know if I can do it.” Sam held back tears but you could see them in his eyes. But you were stubborn, and it killed you to see him like this. So you did what you always do, took this on as a challenge to make him realize he was good enough. “I don’t know if Steve made the right choice, if I’m even good enough for what he gave me! He’s a better man—“

“Don’t you dare say that, Sam!” You shouted back suddenly, it startled him. “You’re a million times better than Steve. Alright? He left. He got his happy ending. You’re still fighting for the living. You’re still here!” The idea that somehow he didn’t believe in himself killed you. You couldn’t even wrap your head around the idea. “Steve spent decades deciding who he wanted and after all that time he believed you were the best person alive. He believed in you. I believe in you!”

There wasn’t much more to say after that as Sam crashed his lips onto yours. It wasn’t exactly a beautiful kiss but it was killed with such a strong sense of love, duty and faith. “I love you, you know that right?” He has to ask. You were worked up to the point of angry-tears but managed to nod your head slowly. He wasn’t sure he’d ever find someone who believed in him as much as you did.

“I love you too.” You smiled softly, breathing slowly in and out as you stared down at the floor. “But for the record, and I really feel like I have to say it...” You looked up at him, your brown eyes wide and big, “I’d be a way better Captain America.” The smirk on your face was sudden and cocky. It was hard for either of you to really get too deep in your emotions and humor was the quickest way to ease the tension of the moment.

“Oh really now?” Sam asked back with a laugh. “What ever happened to your whole believe in me speech. Cause, and maybe I was wrong, but I thought you just agreed that I’m the better Captain America.” He had his arms out in a challenging way, daring you to tell him he was wrong.

“Well you’re better than everyone but me.”

Harry Potter

Ron Weasley

The two of you can go absolutely crazy over quidditch, cheering for your favorite teams is an excellent bonding moment. You’re both competitive and love sports, and what better pass time than the wizards for world’s biggest sports event? The two of you have different favorite teams so it’s always a competition to see who’s will do better that year.

The two of you are both very blunt, which is honestly something that Ron needs from a person in his life. He hates when people try and get all convoluted instead of saying what they just actually mean. Your blunt nature fits what he likes to a T, even when it upsets him. The blunt nature of the relationship can be a blessing or a curse for those who encounter the two of you.

Ron is loyal to a fault, which is something that’s good for you. When you get overwhelmed and let your emotions get the best of you he’s the kind of person able to withstand any emotion. If someone were to push you too hard, not expecting you to be as sensitive as you are, Ron is the first person to jump in. He can get a little aggressive about it.

You’re both hot-heads and tend to get into pointless stubborn competitons. Whether it’s a game or a debate, the two of you get into them often with the goal of winning. Some people interpret this as fights but the truth is that both of you know how to come down from them without harming the relationship. While you’re immovable when against each other you become unstoppable when both of you are on the same side. People tend to just give up.

Ron doesn’t quite get your photography and no matter how many times you explain it all he doesn’t really get it. But that doesn’t stop him from trying and getting envolved. He’ll buy you photography gifts, and they tend to be hit or miss. For a while he didn’t get why you took so many photos but down the road when you showed him all of the past moments of your lives he realized how beautiful it really is.

Both of you are really into politics. Given that Ron literally took up arms in the resistance against Voldemort it shouldn’t be any surprise that he really cares about the government and what’s going on with it. He’s less intelligent than you, but equally passionate. If I’m being honest, it’s another reason people dread going to your house for holidays since the both of you manage to at some point drag everyone into another conversation about important political aspects you two care about.

“Five sickles says that you can’t make it to the top of the quidditch tower and back in under a minute—“

“Oh easy, bet.”

“AND perform five 3 360s.”

Suddenly the challenge was a lot harder for you. You stood in the grass of the quidditch field, staring up at the sky with your broom in hand. Now it was a question of your ability to do some tricks and those were never your strong suite. As much as you adore the game you tended to focus on mastering the basics instead of showing off. But, a bet was a bet and you hated the idea of admitting you couldn’t do something. “Like I said, easy.”

Ron stared at you with a wild grin on his face. He knew you were always up for a challenge and he was always up to doing something fun. It was truly a deadly combination. “Alright, I have the sickles right here. All you have to do is knock my socks off.” Perhaps he shouldn’t be daring his girlfriend to do something crazy but he couldn’t help himself and neither could you.

“Ready?” You asked as you nodded to his watch. “I don’t want you losing count and forcing me to lose.” You were honestly a little nervous but didn’t show it. You were stronger than that. What you really hoped was that no one came out and caught you guys fooling around on the Quidditch field, now that would be messy. Ron held up the watch and nodded his head.

“On your marks, get set, go!” And with that you went flying off. You decided to knock one spin upside down off the list really quick and managed to do that with some grace. You realized soon after that it wasn’t exactly fun, and was a little challenging to keep steady once it was over. “You got this, babe!” Ron shouted as you planned on how to get back at him for this. You got the next twist out of the way shortly before you got to the tower and then soon you made it close to around it. In an attempt to show off you used the final twist as you neared the other side, although this proved to be a mistake.

You lost your grip. The broom seperated from your body and sped off towards the stands as your body fell vertical. You didn’t hear anything aside from your own scream as you tried to reach for your wand. Your hand just got ahold of it by the time you felt a pair of arms grab you. You hadn’t even noticed Ron had gotten to you up until that moment as you clung tightly to him.

You winced when your broom hit the stands and broke straight through the seats and into the underside of the stands. You supposed you’s finally get the chance to find out what exactly was under those old things. You rested your head against his chest, neither of you saying much as you listened to his heartbeat. It was fast and scared and said more than enough.

“You didn’t let me finish.” You complained, trying to ease the tension with a joke. “You cheated.” You looked up at him and smiled as he neared the ground. Part of you felt that you would have been fine. You could have used a spell to summon the broom or something to ease your fall. Ron didn’t need to be there. But he was and it was actually really sweet.

Ron laughed, releasing tensed muscles in his body he hadn’t realized he strained as started to step off. And though he laughed he couldn’t stop holding you as if his life depended on it. “Yeah, I’m sure you would have. Do you want the sickles anyways?” He asked you. “An honorary win because I cheated?”

“Thank you very much, I’ll take those off your hands.” The real conversation occurred outside of language. The way you clung to him said thank you, and the way he held you, paired with his ever increasing heartbeat, said he loved you. Though the sickles certainly didn’t hurt.

#ship requests #mcu #harry potter #sam wilson #ron weasley

[backalley-requests]

Hi there, are your ships still open? If so, what fandoms do you write about and do you nind if the information is long and detailed?

Hi, I just sent in an ask about if ships were open. I forgot to ask if there was a limit on fandoms we can ask for and if we ask for two fandoms or more, will that make the description on who we were matched shorter than if we just asked for one?

Hey! Yeah they’re open (I think it says that’s in my description)!

I had everything saved under the tag “information” but when I tried to look through it on the app nothing showed up, and while the original posts still have it I’m not sure if it’ll show up for you!

So

Ships are open! Sometimes I get slow at responding but right now I don’t have anything and I’m on vacation so it shouldn’t be too long or anything

You can ask for a limit of 2 fandoms per ask. In theory you could send in another one with new fandoms and the same description, I don’t mind that. It’s just that I’ll be answering them in a maximum of 2 at a time since I tend to write a lot.

I have a set criteria for my answers, it’s like 6 bullet points and then a little short fic (I used to measure those but now I kinda just stick to a general idea). Regardless as to how many you send in you’ll get 6 headcanon bullet points and short blurb. It won’t affect your results!

The more detailed you are the closer to what you want you’ll get! The more personality there is for you the more I can include that in my writing! Especially if you want something in particular! So detailed and long is preferred!

Here’s the links to the posts about it, they go into more detail:

https://backalley-requests.tumblr.com/post/186666808858/fandom-masterlist

https://backalley-requests.tumblr.com/post/186666807473/requests-are-open-hey-this-is-a-fairly-new-blog

One includes a list of the fandoms I have, and you’re always free to ask about other ones. There’s plenty of stuff I do still watch thar doesn’t jump to instant memory.

The other is the types of requests, their limitations and all that in case you want more information!

I hope that answered everything! Feel free to ask more questions!

#information #ship requests #jk if you click the information tag it takes you to those links too

[backalley-requests]

Hey, I noticed that you also write for jjba! Can I have some headcanons for Jotaro dealing with having a crush who’s the exact opposite of person he expects to fall for: loud, upbeat, fun, etc. Thank you so much!!!!

Yeah! I tend to really only do parts 1-3 since I haven’t been able to see further than that yet (I saw a few episodes of part 4 a while back but got busy). I hope you like it!

Jotaro’s never been the best at showing emotion. He usually compartmentalizes and pushes off any feelings he has for later. Especially when he catches feelings. It’s hard to tell whether he likes you or can’t stand you because the messages he sends are all over the place.

He spends countless nights trying to figure out his feelings for you, himself. You’re everything he tends to get annoyed at and yet somehow he can’t bring himself to get angry with you. Anytime he snaps is superficial and you both know it.

He realizes what he’s feeling the moment that something happens to you. It’s one fight with a stand user and you aren’t badly wounded but he loses it and blows up on you, realizing that he can’t afford to lose you. And while he cares about the rest he cares about you more.

The two of you tend to go at it, with clashing personalities it’s only natural. They can be pretty intense and you always put pace him with your energy but his words tend to cut deeper. While they start off genuine it becomes a rhythm the two of you get used to, and is admittedly filled with sexual tension.

He rarely talks about his own feelings, much less shows vulnerability. So when his attempts at getting you to stop being so reckless fail the old fashioned way he goes soft and tells you the truth: that if everyone he knows you’re the person he couldn’t bare to see hurt. He doesn’t even confess then, but deep down you both know what it means.

Jotaro can be almost annoyingly possessive but realizes he doesn’t have much of a claim over you. If he thinks someone is gettin a little too close you (such as another stardust crusader) he goes into isolation mode. This usually involves a hot and cold vibe towards you for a while. It’s usually over nothing.

Jotaro is surprisingly good at advice when he’s willing to give it. And you’re an excellent advice asker. He’s perceptive and intelligent and has a certain level of clear-headedness that makes him perfect to talk to. Plus he’ll do anything to spend more time with you. It’s usually during these talks that all the stereotypes you’ve had built up for each other fall to the wayside.

You’re the one person he can’t tell to shut up. Mostly because he can’t get enough of your voice. There was an entire evening where everyone kept waiting for Jotaro to yell at you and it just never came. You were making jokes and overstepping boundaries and it was at that moment that Joseph started to suspect.

You never even noticed. Part of you knew Joraro cards but the idea that he could actually love you, out of the question. That was too strong of an idea and even a dangerous one. Especially since you were falling for him. You’d get flustered if he stared at you for too long and it became one of the few ways to shut you up from time to time. You used to tease him by making jokes that he was in love with you but the moment you fell for him those stopped. Mostly because you didn’t want to watch him deny it again.

He doesn’t say confess his feelings verbally. But it happens one day after you almost die. Swept away my emotions all he can do is kiss you when he finds out you’re alright. It’s a mutually starved one and it does all the talking you need. Plus, it’s hard to really deny Jotaro when he’s like that.

#jjba #Jotaro kujo #jotaro x reader #headcanons #headcanon requests

[backalley-requests]

Heyyy, can I get ships with MCU and ST? (if it's possible). I'm a straight girl. I'm 5'3, with short - like just above the shoulders - auburn hair and green eyes. My style is pretty vintage I like to create my outfits looking at old photos from the 70s/80s. I am shy at first but after a while, I get very flirty and outgoing. I have a lot of hobby and I don't like to do nothing. I like to read, listen to some good classic rock songs and do many outdoor activities. Thank you sooo much 💛💛

I’m sorry it took so long! I’ve been awfully busy with school! I hope you enjoy it!

I ship you with...

MARVEL

Bucky Barnes

You’re very classic by nature and that’s something that initially draws Bucky to you. Mostly because it’s messing with his head as he gets flashbacks to glimpses through the decades he lost to Hydra. He doesn’t remember much of it, but being around you gave him the feeling he might be able to get back what he lost.

You were scared of him at first, and a little shy. You saw enough news coverage of him to know he was bad news. Bucky saw the idea of getting close to you as attoning for what he did. If he could change you perception on him then maybe he wasn’t that bad after all and maybe the man he was forced to be wasn’t really him. He kept “randomly” bumping into you and trying to strike up conversations even through you were nervous at first, eventually you grew used to it and realized maybe he was a victim of it all.

The two of you spend a lot of time outdoors doing various stuff. You enjoy the outdoors and Bucky likes being away from the city and all the noise. It’s an oasis when you guys manage to be out and away from civilization. Stuff like canoeing or rock climbing just puts both of you in a good state of mind.

You’re always on the move trying to do stuff and start new activities and sometimes Bucky struggles to keep up. But he enjoys that quick energy you give off of. His body naturally wants to be lazy but he is much happier when he does get to do stuff so being with you is exciting.

He’s really over protective of you, perhaps a little possessive at times too. He’s had people he loves taken away from him and it’s hard to imagine a world where you’re not in it. You think it’s cute sometimes and annoying other times but you get where he’s coming from and sometimes just let him do what makes him feel safer. Plus it’s kind of hot sometimes.

You have to deal with the occasional person realizing who he is and freaking out in fear. He isn’t that recognizable on the streets but some people still have memories from the time he was.

There was a knock at the door at 10 o’clock at night. This was pretty rare considering that neither of you had any close friends who randomly came over. Steve sometimes but Steve tended to walk right in when he arrived, so something about this was wrong.

Bucky’s arms were wrapped around you as the two of you watched a movie. This was meant to be a nice cuddling session although it was suddenly pulled apart by the knocking. Bucky tensed up immediately, “I’ll get it.” He said, knowing you tended to be shy around strangers.

He headed over to the door and opened it, “Hello?” On the other end appeared to be some nerdy sales rep trying to the two of you to buy a subscription. Who tries to tell stuff at 10 o’cock at night? “We don’t want any—“ he started but was soon cut off by the sound of glass breaking in the other room.

When Bucky turned back the sales rep punched him in the face. He hardly reacted to it as he used hs arm to shove him back hard enough to crack the hallway wall. He soon rushed into the living room to find you being held against your will, a gun to your head.

Bucky started walking over but was stalled when the man spoke up, “uh uh. Take another step closer and I’ll kill her.” Bucky knew better than to just suddenly risk your life. You were one of the few good things he had left in it.

“What do you want.”

You somehow managed to stay silent, afraid of dying but also afraid of Bucky getting hurt. There was few options here and while you trusted him you weren’t sure if anyone could easily get out of this. But you did have something that could help, if only the man would make a mistake.

“I can’t you too—“ the man was cut off as you realized your perfect shot was upon you, you elbowed him hard and he doubled over. You weren’t exactly helpless but he hadn’t given any previous openings. He released you as a reflex and you dove to the side to evade him.

Bucky instantly moved in and knocked him out wirh one quick punch as the man flew across the room and you ran to his arms. “I’m so sorey, I wasn’t paying attention and—“ you began to apologize quickly but he held you tight and shushed you softly.

“It’s my fault too alright, we got too comfortable.” But there was a bigger unspoken problem. That someone wanted him and knew exactly where he lived. “We should head somewhere else for now, those men won’t stay down forever.”

You nodded your head and moved to get ready. “You already know I’m willing to follow you wherever you go. Just lead the way.”

STRANGER THINGS

Jim Hopper

You’re wardrobe fits right in with the era, given that it’s the 70s to early 80s. But you’re appreciation for the early seventies starts to feel really nostalgic for him, especially cause it keeps him centered in a world that just keeps changing drastically at every turn.

At first you thought all the traps around his house were a little excessive but you soon realized he was just extremely prepared, and that his paranoia was justified. You actually learned to get really into helping him eith that, enjoying how they made you think and enjoying being out in the woods.

When he first met you it was for an interrogation. He thought you may have had something to do with a recent disappearance of a missing boy, although that was before he learned the darker truth. You were so shy that he thought you were hiding something. So he changed tactics to get closer in hopes you’d lower your guard.

Needless to say you were pissed when you realized he only got close to you for his case. He owned up to it all when he realized that you had nothing to do with it, and especially when he learned about the monsters. You thought it was less reassuring, and you stormed off. That was how you first encountered the supernatural.

You became El’s advocate. You supported her wanting some freedom and felt bad that she was cooped up for so long, especially since you knew that you could never handle sitting still for as long as she had to.

You both have similar taste in music and love driving down the road jamming out to classic rock, or at the time just rock. You’d go on long drives to take a weekend getaway off in another cabin by a lake. Sometimes to help ease the tension of the real danger back in town.

“Dance with me!” You said suddenly. You had been holed up in the house for several days and there was only so many puzzles, games, and television that could occupy you. So you turned up the radio and started poorly your dancing your way to Hopper.

He felt bad that he couldn’t do more for your right now. But he was under heavy surveillance and going outside at the moment was a recipe for disaster. He just wished you didn’t have to get stuck with him. “Oh I don’t know.” He rested his head to the side. “Dancing isn’t really my thing,” he admitted.

“Please! It’s the least you can do.” Once you flashed your puppy dog eyes at him, Hopper knew it was over. You grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet as you started to dance to the rhythm, forcing him along with you.

As he started to get into it you let go and began to move in bouncing circles to the rock song, letting your hair have it’s fun as you went wild enjoying the moment. Hopper never quite got on your level as his dancing slowly came to a stop. He was mesmerized by the way your body moved to the song. How free you managed to be even here.

Soon you stopped as you realized he wasn’t playing along. “Whats wrong?” You were panting and a little out of breath due to your intensity. You brushed your hair to the side and just behind your ear to see him better.

“You just— well you’re breath taking.” Hopper smiles at you, finally releasing a breath he just realized he was holding. “Besides, you’re a lot quicker than me.” He then chuckled.

Your face flushed red in response and you felt he place heat up. “Well you have that affect on me too.” You confessed.

Just then, a snapping sound was heard outside in the woods. A trap was just set off and something was caught. Animal? Human? Who knows, but it meant that you guys had to find out and more importantly that you got to go outside!

“We caught something!”

#mcu #bucky barnes #stranger things #jim hopper #ship requests

[backalley-requests]

Hello, could I please get a Disney and Harry Potter Ship? I’m a straight female. I’m very short (5’0) and chubby. I’m very shy and quiet when I first meet someone, but one you get to know me im talkative and loud. I often talk way to fast. I have a short temper and can get annoyed very easily, and I’m very argumentative (I love proving people wrong). My hobbies include reading and writing, and I could talk for hours about things that I am passionate about!

Yeah no problem!! Thank you for sending in a request! I’m sorry it took a while and I hope you enjoy it!!!

I ship you with.....

Disney

Prince Naveen

The two of you bump heads a lot, especially in the early days. He got on your nerves all the time over his ego and you couldn’t stand how full of himself he was. At this point, he loves when you pop off on people, especially since you’re always so quiet around strangers. There’s something about you speaking your mind and putting others in their place that he loves.

You’re both great storytellers. You just have different mediums. He tells stories through song and music, always oral telling. But you love writing them down in sweet words and decorating the stories to be remembered in perfect condition. It just means that he loves getting to read what you write and he adores sharing it with others. He also gets you into reading your stuff and dancing.

One of the first signs that he began to realize he was in love with you was when he realized he could listen to you talk for hours about all your hobbies and passions. He’s so used to wanting to be the center of attention and adored but you made him want to hear about something else. He also really encourages all of your passions and goes out of his way to support them.

You guys get into competitions and petty arguments to prove who is better at something. Both striving to prove the other wrong. In the end you’ve both learned a good handful of stuff from each other. Neither of you ever truly admit you were wrong but you say it in other ways. He taught you to be more comfortable in yourself and you taught him how to love reading. It goes both ways, and you can hold your own well against him.

The two of you run a public library, dividing the work evenly. You spend half the time getting to write, and he’ll read over your work and give you encouragement. It’s the most lively of a library that could possibly exist and manages to be comforting and warm even during the winter. It’s one of the things you two are most proud of making together and is a monument to what the two of you can accomplish when you take your determination and put it to good work.

He writes short stories for you. They are never any good but you love them nevertheless. It’s a staple present for whenever you’re down or stressed out. He’s improved throughout the years but never sees his own improvements. 

“Just admit you’re wrong.”

“Does it look like I’m in any position to do that?” Naveen asked.

You wore a solid smirk on your face, it was smug and it drove him nearly insane. Mostly because he knew you were right and he didn’t want to admit it. “I love you, but this isn’t going to get fixed any time soon at the rate you’re going. It’s hopeless, my love. Maybe we should just head back to town and get a mechanic to come look at it.” The car on the side of the road had steam coming up from it and nearly an hour after this happened Naveen was still at work. You didn’t know anything about cars and you weren’t about to pretend that you did. Naveen on the other hand? Refused to give up and while it started off as kind of sweet it quickly devolved into a mess.

“I know what I’m doing, I think the problem is probably this,” his hand grasped something in the hood of the car, “part,” it broke off and stayed in his hand as he took a step back.

Naveen realized you were right as he sat back in the car with a sigh. “Alright, so maybe I’m not a mechanic. You have to admit though, it was a little charming how hard I tried.” He grinned wildly at you as you crossed your arms over your chest and faked some annoyance

“I’m pretty sure charming is one of those attributes you can’t really apply to yourself.” You sighed and then smiled softly, “let’s just head back to town. You can brag more about your chivalry along the way, if it pleases you.”

It a moment the sky turned dark, grey clouds coating it as the sun was blurred out. A moment later it began to rain. And it poured. “On second thought, maybe we should just camp out here until it clears up” you redacted.

Naveen smirked, accepting his fate quickly. “Well in that case you’re very lucky to be stuck with someone so charming as handsome as me.”

Harry Potter Series

George Weasley

He always brings out the fun in you. At first you seemed shy and quiet but in less than no time you were reluctantly pulled into pranks and before you knew it were willingly apart of them.

You two first meet when you fall victim to one of his pranks. You really thought you hated him in that moment and wasted no time breaking that sweet little girl persona you had when you got angry and told him off. It was hard to stay mad after a while because it was clear to you that George felt horrible about what happened. You weren’t exactly the intended target.

The two of you are so creative and really mesh well together. While you aren’t the best at actually building contraptions you have such a good creative eye and are necessary in creating a good idea for his shop and any of its merchandise. Half the stuff he makes comes from bouncing ideas off of you and you fill the void his brother used to fill.

He started off attempting to pull you out of your shell, something he does for a few people. However the more he got to know the real you the more he fell for you. Fred pestered him about your relationship and eventually, he confessed. Becoming a catalyst for a new mission between the two of them to get you to fall for George.

You were the only person who could pull him back into reality after Fred died. It nearly destroyed your relationship as he fought against your best efforts and you fought back. When the dust settled, you both were all the stronger for it, and he was able to get the help he needed.

He thinks you’re just the cutest thing ever, you’re small and chubby and he can’t get enough of you. You, of course, fight back against his claims but he never relents. He loves just sitting and staring at you as you ramble on for hours about things your passionate about. Sometimes you question if he’s even listening he can recount almost every detail you’ve spoken.

“You know sometimes I miss the days when you were quiet,” George teased as he nudged your side softly. You had spent the past hour delving into your new current obsession. It was actually pretty adorable, he had to admit.

You blushed, feeling embarrassed slightly abojt it. “If you missed them so much then why did you make such an effort to get me to talk at all.” Despite the minor setback you bounced back quickly with a retort, your arms crossed over your chest. You tilted your head up in a pout and looked away.

“Because I didn’t realize you were a siren. Only you could make me sit still for an hour on a lecture about a book— and make it sound interesting.” George complimented you. “Think of all the other stuff we could have done in that hour, yet I spent it all learning about an entirely different world. Have to admit, you got me good though.”

You bit your bottom lip and hesitated, maybe you had gone on a slight rant. As you glanced over at the time it you immediately realized how late it had gotten. “I—” you tried to speak but decided to stop. Had you kept him here too long? Were you really such a bother? “Sorry.” You lowered your head to hide your face.

It shattered George on impact. “You don’t have to apologize!” His face was a bright red. “I got carried away myself just listening to you. You’re just so cute! I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” The two of you were just friends at the time. Just friends, you had to remind yourself on several occasions. But, unbeknownst to you, he had the same talk with himself every night.

The two of you were in a weird zone where every word spoken by the other was clung to for dear life. Even now, you panicked at the idea of upsetting him and he panicked at the fact that his joke came off wrong. Both of you were bumbling fools in an instant. “Oh! I’m sorry! I just thought you meant—“

“I didn’t to swear!” George said shortly.

Your faces were both a bright burning red. In your mind you kept replaying the like— you’really just so cute. Did he really think that about you? Was it just a slip of the tongue. “Did you mean it?”

“Which part?”

There was a tension thick within the air. “That I’m cute?” The silence became deafening but was cut off as a pair of arms wrapped around both of your necks, pulling you closer together.

“There you guys are!” Fred, unmistakable, was behind you guys and clearly grinning. “I’ve been looking everywhere, I didn’t expect to find you guys in the library.”

You and George stared at each other for a moment, blushing like mad. He never did get to answer your question that night.

#hp #george weasley #disney #princess and the frog #ship requests

[backalley-requests]

Hi can I have a pairing in the MCU and for ST I’m a pansexual (I lean towards women) trans guy who’s 5’8 and a bit more on the heavier side when it comes to weight. I’m a multi-facetted musician, and I play 6-ish instruments but mainly the guitar and piano. I write songs in my spare time as well as just writing stories. I’m generally impulsive thanks to ADHD and I suffer from (properly diagnosed) bad PTSD and depression. My friends describe me as funny, brave, and altruistic even with my past.

Of course you can, lovely! Thank you so much for sending in a request! I hope you enjoy it!

I ship you with....

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Wanda Maximoff

On the surface you both seem to different; you’re loud and funny, and she’s quiet and intense. You balance each other’s energy out perfectly and at the core of yourselves are so eerily similar. You both just handle your pain and trauma in different ways. She saw straight through your smile the instant she met you while others still saw you as someone in perfect mental health.

You used music to teach her how to control herself and her powers. She was in emotional turmoil when you found her but there is something about the way you play that kept her head cool. This only got better as you taught her how to play instruments.

She would absolutely lose her mind if anything happened to you. You’re the best thing she’s ever had in her life and if anyone were to threaten that there would be more than just hell to pay. It also means she gets really worried when you overexert yourself and act impulsively, especially since you get brave and do things that would frighten the average person.

You live in a big European city with her in a gorgeous ass looking apartment. The giant windows overlooking everything always gets to inspire you to write and the two of you sit there quite often, usually looking down at people below. You make up stories about their lives and she always loves listening to them.

You guys go to live concerts and orchestras a lot. There’s a sense of culture in it. You’re part of a city band and she often goes to your performances. It’s truly breathtaking to watch you. And she spends the rest of the night talking about how amazing you did.

Everybody else tries to find ways to fix her and her personality but you’re the first person to actually just accept her for what she is and trust her with your entire being. And no love her inspite of things but because of them.

You sat with your back pressed against the glass window. The lights of the city illuminated everything so fully and completely, leaving this strong feeling of ease resting in you. It brought to the surface the idea that you’re such a small part in the word and everyone below you thought themselves just as important as you did yourself.

“It’s rare to see you quiet,” Wanda teases as she walked over from the kitchen. She had two cups of coffee in her hands as she took a spot next to you. Her head leaned into the glass gently as she handed the cup over. Your gaze broke from the city and landed on her. A smile broke out on her face.

“At least I know you’re still keeping tabs on my behavior,” you tease her and she reflexively gives a toothy smile of admittance. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were just having one of those off days. Not that you needed to tell her, she knew you well enough to know when they happened.

“Maybe so.”

“Good, I’m glad someone’s realized that I’m too handsome to simply to be ignored any longer.” You laughed quietly before taking a sip. It deflected from actual emotions. You didn’t feel the need to talk on them much at the moment. You just wanted— peace.

“If you need to talk.”

“I know.”

There was no interruptions because you both simply knew what was happening before either of you spoke. She shifted over closer to you and laid her head on her shoulder relaxing into you subtly. The coffee left a warm pit in your stomach, filling up even the coldest parts of you. It felt good. And being here felt right.

“I spoke to Steve, today. He says he’s doing fine. He also says Bucky has been handling things a lot better now.” Wanda opens up a little to try and ease in some conversation. “He reminds me of you sometimes, if you were a super powered human. He cares a lot, will do anything to make sure things are just and right— just like you.” She sits up some more and turns to smile at you.

“You really are a hero, did you know that,” She asked you, her face is so soft and delicate. She’s genuine, although she tells you stuff like this a lot this is coming from a place where she wants you to deeply feel it in your soul. “You’re so giving and selfless. You showed me how to take everything that’s bad and make a person out of it— and a good person too.”

Your hand comes up and holds her face softly with one hand. Your thumb brushing over her cheek in gentle strokes. “You’re my hero too.”

Stranger Things

Joyce Byers

You’re so much more helpful in her life than she ever expected anyone to be. You’re one of the few people who are so useful and good at helping Will recover mentally from everything he’s been through. She isn’t sure she’ll ever be able to get over that.

Joyce thinks you’re absolutely hilarious and loves even the dumbest of your jokes. The two of you usually end up carrying them a little too far because neither of you are willing to concede and give up your little competition. You just make her smile and feel young.

She loves it when you play guitar— any instrument really but she’s into more rock styles and enjoys the nights where the two of you get to relax while you play the guitar and she listens in. She always talks about how she’s always wanted to get to learn to play an instrument and she could ever imagine being able to play 6. It’s so crazy to her.

You’re too brave, dangerously so sometimes, because where many others would be quick to run away you get yourself involved in affairs that she never wanted you to be apart of. But it’s too late because you’ve already grown deathly attached to the family and all the kids— but especially her.

And you’re such a great liar too, since you’re so good and writing stories it comes natural to you to come up with a lie on the spot. So where she flounders and says something suspicious you’re easily capable of bouncing right back and making the whole thing sound believable. It’s came in handy a few times now.

You both have a lot of emotional baggage tied to you, and a lot of emotions tied to your past and present. You can tell each other anything and everything and know that it’s judgement free. It’s so liberating and relaxing to just get to talk to her and understand that she gets it.

“Do you even know how to bake?”

You’re tease Joyce as she looked over the instructions again. She’s made several errors already and the cupcakes aren’t even close to being ready to put in the oven. You watch her, bemused. The two of you were supposed to be making snacks for a dnd session and Joyce had came up with cupcakes.

“Of course I do,” her eyes roll as she waves away the notion effortlessly, “I watch the cooking network all the time! How hard can it be?” There’s already a hint of flour on her face. The kitchen is an absolute wreck too. You had offered to just buy some cake mix but she said it was less heartfelt that way. You both swore dirtied aprons.

She gave you instructions to crack some more eggs and put them in the bowl. Something you almost complete without a hitch until the last egg completely cracks itself open all over your hands, some of the shell slowly oozing down with the rest of the liquid. “Fuck—“ the two of you are this jumbled mess of bakers. You stare down at the mess you’ve made, frozen.

Joyce can’t contain herself as she tries to hold back a giggle and fails. “Oh— oh my” her laughter grows louder as she covers her mouth. “You look great, sweetheart.” She insists, pursing her lips to a thin line in an attempt to hide her gleeful smile.

You roll your eyes playfully before an idea comes into your head as you glance over at the flour. Joyce is too busy being amused by the situation to react before you toss some flour in her direction. Her mouth opening in shock before instantly scrunching up as it makes contact with her face.

“You were saying?”

“Oh it’s on.”

The challenge is set as the two of you begin making an even bigger mess in the kitchen, you’re wasting ingredients but it hardly matters as you chase each other around. You eventually have her pinned against the wall, an egg cracked on her head before you hear a soft and confused voice.

“Mom?”

“Will!” Joyce pulled herself back as she tried to contain an embarrassed laugh. “I’m sorry— I don’t think the cupcakes are gonna be done,” she breaks into a giggle, “in time.” She soon clears her throat and calms down, trying to look more presentable. “We’ll just stop by the store, okay sweetie?” She asked with a soft smile

Will gives a faint smile and sighs, “sure, mom. No problem.”

As soon as he leaves she turns back to you. “I’m so—“ she laughs as buries her face in her hands. “Ugh I’m so embarrassed. I’m acting like a teenager again, I swear. It’s your fault too.” She sits down at the counter and despite her words can’t help the smile on her face.

“You have to admit it was pretty fun though.”

“Yeah, it was.”

#marvel #stranger things #joyce byers #wanda maximoff #ship requests #scarlet witch

[backalley-requests]

Hey! Can I get a ship request for the 100 and MCU? Thank you! I’m a short female with long black hair and bangs, I have green eyes and wear glasses. I’m pretty smart and quick witted but usually try and stay away from conflict. I’m really into music and play the piano and violin. I have anxiety and I’m terrified of being left alone in life. I like romantic comedies and can’t watch horror (too scary). I want to see the best in everyone and am usually too trusting and nice to others. Thanks again!

Thank you for sending the ship in! I hope you like it!

I ship you with....

The 100

Jasper Jordon

You always thought of him as a hero, even long after everyone else forgot about his early marksmanship skills. He was surprised one day when you randomly brought it up out of the blue, and he thought it was actually really sweet that you did that.

After losing Maya he’s always desperate to make sure that you’re safe. He rarely needs your side and so you never have to be alone in the first place. He is done fighting and just wants a peaceful life where he can have fun and not worry about dying.

When you’re playing music he always pretends to know the song, and even though you know he’s lying most the time you let him keep up the charade cause you think it’s cute.

You give him a good reason to keep wanting him to live. You remind him that humanity is good and it’s your faith in humanity that gives him the strength to have hope in a better tomorrow.

The two of you started off as friends, especially since both of you were some of the most normal of the 100. He always thought you were cute but figured he never stood a chance.

You never go to mount weather and can never imagine what he must have been through. You realize how much you’re in love with him the moment you realize he might be in danger. He comes back changed and distant but you’re the person who sticks by him when he’s dealing with what happened. And eventually, he realizes he can’t live without you.

"Guess who?”

Hands covered your eyes suddenly, a familiar warmth and softness to them. You already knew who it was before you even had to guess. You knew his voice like the back of your hand. But what was the fun in guessing right? A soft smile formed. “Monty,” You laugh breathlessly.

His hands spun you around and forced you to finally face him. “Guess again.” He wore this goofy looking grin that lit up the rest of his face. You both knew better, there was this strong mutual understanding between the two you.

“You’re back from Mount Weather early?” It was a small trip to get supplies but you hadn’t expected to see him until much later in the day, although given his resistance to following orders this shouldn’t have surprised you much.

“Well that’s because I got you something, so I skipped the whole waiting thing and came here instead.”

You raised an eyebrow, slightly suspicious but obviously interested in what he had to show you. You couldn’t help the smile that stayed. This dork really never knew when to quit, did he? Not that you minded it much. “Okay, well what did you get me then?” You weren’t sure what he could possibly have found that made him rush back so swiftly to give it. And something that made him so certain you would want it.

“Not even a thank you,” Jasper teased, slightly amused as he pulled out a book form his bang and handed it over to you. “It’s not exactly new or anything but it’s certainly not something we had on the ark.”

It was a romance novel, Pride and Prejudice. One you had read about in several other novels and movies and one you had always wanted the chance to read but never were able to. “Jasper--” You were at a loss for words as you felt tears brim your eyes.

“Did I do something wrong?” He got worried as he laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “I was so sure about it too. I can go back and find something else--”

“No, Jasper. It’s perfect.”

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Natasha Romanoff

She was always afraid of how you’d view her when you find out who she is and what she’s done. But you see the best in her and it’s more than she could have ever imagined.

Part of the season she was so dead set on being the hero was because she wanted you to be proud of her. She also wanted to make a world

Natasha goes to every musical performance of yours. She knows the notes by heat and even plays piano with you on occasion. You know she spends time learning all your music and you think it’s adorable, especially since she’s never fess up.

She’s never been a bigger horror fan than after she met you. She told you they were her favorite but the truth is that she wanted a reason for you to cuddle into her. You always compromise by making her watch a romcom because she claims to hate them. Little did you expect her to cry to each one with you.

If anybody were to lay a hand on you she’d lose it. You’re the most precious thing she’s ever had and she’s so terrified that someone will take you away from her. It also means she’s new to the whole romance thing and is always a little stunned by how sweet and genuine you are.

After civil war she steps out of the spotlight and lives a really cute domestic life with you for years. You know she misses getting to feel like a hero and that she’s making a difference but you’re so glad she isn’t in danger anymore. You never quite got used to her coming home bloody and bruised after battle and this is a nice change of pace.

Your body hits the cool mat that only barely cushions your fall. It sinking into the mat as you begin to breath heavily. You weren’t sure how much of a fight you had left in you. “Again.” Natasha’s command is so strong and simple. But this felt like anything but a simple exchange. Every time you got back up she managed to knock you down again, and while you knew she was just looking out for you. “You’re going to get yourself killed, get up!” She has a tough love teaching method.

“When I asked you to teach me some self defense this isn’t exactly what I had in mind you know.” Your hand grasps her’s as you pull yourself back up and onto your feet. “I thought it would be, I don’t know, sexier?” You find yourself blushing as you say it, as if admitting your feelings about the topic were embarrassing. And it kind of was. But this was by far the first time that you came up with an idea you thought would be romantic and she takes it— well, a little too literal.

Natasha’s face instantly softens and her shoulders fall. “Is it too much?” She sounded unsure of herself, a rare site. But not too uncommon around you, it was always clear that she was new to tenderness and care. It never bothered you though, her upbringing meant that everything you always took for granted she never got: hugs, warmth, romance. Everything you did with Nat was brand new to her.

“No.”

You smile, trying to reassure her. Something in you meant that you couldn’t confirm her fears. “You just, care about me.” Your fingers brush the lossened strands of your hair back behind your ears. “Again, right?” You take a moment to catch your breath by taking another deep one. Your fists are brought up in a defensive position as you ready yourself.

Even if this isn’t exactly what you had wanted it wasn’t bad. And the relief on Natasha’s face made the descion instantly worth it. She ran through the movement again, her hand landing on your shoulder. You went through the motions, remembering what she taught you. Step 1, step 2, step 3. You’re slow but she tolerates that up until the second she goes off script. She spins you around and forces you onto the floor.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Her face is an inch from yours and her body has you tightly pinned to the ground. You’re caught by surprise and your mouth is left hanging open for a moment. You’re thrown off by the intimacy of it all and your face is turned red. You never do get to quite catch up to things before she kisses you, it’s soft with a hint of desperation but only lasts for a moment before she pulls back.

“Yeah, a little bit.”

#the 100 #marvel #jasper jordan #natasha romanoff #black widow #mcu #ship requests

[backalley-requests]

hey this isn't actually a question but just wanted to say that YOU ARE AWESOME!!! your ships are amazing and beautifully written and i love your blog. the hp ship you wrote for me literally made my day; keep doing you! (i also hope you are getting some sleep because the rate you are posting at is pretty terrifying- but awesome nonetheless)

Anyways, thank you for literally being so sweet. Stuff like this genuinely makes me wanna cry. You’re an absolute sweet heart and I hope you have a great week! 💗💗💗

[backalley-requests]

hey! would you mind making me a male hp ship? i'm 5'7", female, a gemini, and an INTJ. i have long/wavy golden brown hair, dark brown eyes, and medium beige skin w/freckles. i am a pretty confident person and consider myself to be very intelligent. i excel in academics and have a certain aptitude for sciences, although i am also a very skilled writer. i am a slytherclaw (although my main is slytherin), and if i attended hogwarts i have a suspicion my fav class would most likely be herbology. thx

Thank you so much for leaving a request! I hope you like it!

I ship you with....

Harry Potter Series

Draco Malfoy

You’re actually family friends, so you knew of Draco Malfoy well before the two of you were in the same house together. He assumed when you both ended up being Slytherins that you would start hanging out but at the time you thought he was immature and annoying. You were far more focused on making your family proud and rising to the top of your class

The both of you are prefects during your fifth year together. This is actually when the two of you start to get close to each other. You realize he isn’t just a carbon copy of his parents, even before he realizes it. You see potential. Before then you thought he was arrogant and cocky, and you wanted a more prestigious reputation. He’s immediately into you, although he doesn’t show it. You’re confident with a desire to be more than your family.

You have a love-hate relationship for a while. The two of you get into heated arguments and he realizes it’s really attractive how well you hold your own. Also you’re way smarter than him so that never hurt. Despite being always at odds with him there’s a mutual understanding that evolves into friendship and eventually love. A lot of people comment when you guys get together with things like “finally!” and “I knew it”.

Draco really likes your freckles— your whole face actually. It’s such a contrast to your personality. Because you look so warm and soft but when you speak it’s cutting and confident. It’s quiet the beautiful juxtaposition. Also he loves your handwriting, he often asks to borrow your notes to get to look at it some more under the guise that he’s trying to do some homework.

You’re actually the best person at potions the whole has seen in a long time. Your herbalism skills and passion for it are off the charts and so you already knew how to handle the plants, what they do, and their side effects way better than anybody else. And since you’re already naturally talented at science, it only makes your potion skills just that more intense.

You help Draco become better than his parents. Just as you wanted to be better than yours. There’s a huge theme between the two of you of wanting to do better than your past and avoid making the same mistakes as your parents. When he sides with his at first, it breaks your heart although a part of you already knew he was so wrapped up in it. Seeing you on the other side of the battle field is partly why switching to the other side felt so right.

“What have you done?”

You stand, crossed armed in the Slytherin common room. Draco is laughing and looking back at Crabbe and Goyle as the three enter the dungeon at 3 in the morning. They stop when they see you and Draco wears a cocky smirk on his face. “What are you doing up so late? Shouldn’t you be busy sleeping like a goody-two-shoes?”

“Just because you’re a prefect won’t mean I won’t turn you in,” you warn. You knew he had been up to something. Nothing good happens past midnight and the look on their faces told you enough. Whatever they were up to wasn’t good. Cute as Draco was— not that you’d admit it, if he was caught that would mean the house would lose points. You being prefect meant that it’s reputation lay on your shoulders and you bore a responsibility to the rest of the house to maintain that.

“Oh come on, are you telling me there’s no honor amongst us? Whatever happened to the prefect being a team thing?” Crabbe and Goyle walked past him, throwing Draco a knowing stare as the two left to their dorm. Instead of following them he took a step closer to you. He was testing you.

Your lip twitches in disgusted curl for a brief moment before you allow yourself to relax. “Listen, if you aren’t going to bother to care about your own reputation, at least learn to care about the house. What happens to you affects me too.”

“Oh are you starting to care about me?”

You took a step back to create more distance. You had been up late working on a paper. It was due in a while but after waking up from a nightmare you needed to do something to cool off and relax, and since writing came so natural to you, you decided on that. Although— what was happening now was certainly not relaxing. “Just because the rest of the girls do doesn’t mean I do. You need to get over yourself— just get to bed.”

You decided you were done with him. You were thrown off by the intimacy of being so close. You hated it, perhaps a bit more than you thought you hated him. You swallowed hard and forced yourself to look away for a moment as you then cleared your throat. “Just don’t get caught. Snape isn’t going to be as nice as me, you know he gets off to punishing us.”

“Maybe it’s you who gets off on punishing me,” Draco teases as he backs you into the wall. “You’re all bark in no bite I’m starting to suspect you just like talking to me but you don’t know how.” He licks his bottom lip and stares down at you for a moment. Your face heats up and your left stunned. A small part of you knows it’s true.

He laughs and pushes himself off the wall and away from you. Your body eases slightly. “I knew it.” Draco looks so cocky about it too and the thought makes you angry. “You do like me, just admit it and save yourself the trouble.”

You’re defensive and scared, mostly because you think he may have a point and you can’t bare the idea of letting him know that. So what if he was right? What does he gain? Personal satisfaction? The thought made your stomach churn. The idea that your emotions would be wasted on his ego. “You don’t know anything about me, Malfoy. God, you’re so full of yourself—”

“It’s okay, cause I like you too.”

#harry potter #draco malfoy #hp #ship requests