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banannabethchase · 2 years ago

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They went after each other twice onscreen during Dynamite. But it didn't stop there.

Hi yes this is a Professional Wrestling Fic. No, I didn't expect myself to be here either. Mox and Hangman were just so horny for each other last night this essentially wrote itself. I'm blaming my husband for this.

Takes place basically during AEW Dynamite 11/30/2022, after that second Mox/Hangman interaction when Hangy had that little manbun.

Title from Ryan Star's "Start a Fire" because I always use his songs for titles when I'm stuck in 2010.

There’s a bruise already forming on his cheekbone, a split lip threatening to bleed everywhere. “You need to leave the building,” Tony says sternly. “I get that he goaded you, but there’s – I can’t do this whole fighting thing again.” There’s exhaustion in his voice. Adam gets it, he really does, but he can’t take on Tony’s problems right now.

“I know,” Adam says, and he wants to slam the phone down, flip it shut, something, but he has to settle for an impotent press of the End Call button.

“Mr. Page -”

“I’m fine!” Adam snaps, pushing past the last security guard as he hovers between Adam and the door back into the main arena. “I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

One of the guys, a young kid named Bennett from forty miles out, from a farm like the one Adam grew up on, eyes him hesitantly. “Mr. Page, sir,” he says, voice practically quivering, “I was instructed to ensure you exit the building after getting your things.”

Adam groans. “Fine. Walk with me. Just – act like this is normal, okay?”

“If I’m being honest, sir, this is the least normal day of my life.”

Adam laughs, pushing sweaty hair from his forehead. “In this industry, you’ll get used to it.”

Bennett doesn’t respond, walking quietly next to Adam like a squire. He likes this kid. But he likes the silence more.

Bennett drops him off at the locker room hastily labeled, “Hangman.” He’s fairly certain it’s a repurposed closet. Amanda and maybe Megha probably cleared this out once they heard he was coming, and the thought warms him a little bit. At least he has someone here who cares about him. With the Elite and Dark Order in different universes from himself, he’s glad to have a place to sit.

He drops, heavy, onto the bench. It’s not a bench, on second check. He’s sitting on a string of black metal chairs lined up. “Figures,” he grumbles.

He doesn’t rush as he gathers his stuff, and Bennett doesn’t leave the door.

“What, you think you can take me by yourself?” Adam asks. He fights the laugh behind his voice. “You gonna rush me or something?”

Bennett shrugs. “No. I think they just consider me expendable. As long as we can get the two of you out of the building, I’m good.” There’s a menacing crash in the hallway. “I think I jinxed myself.”

“Hangman!” Adam recognizes the growl just as surely as he recognizes the anger rising in his chest.

Silently, he stands. He’s got at least four inches on the kid. It’d make his heart hurt, just a little bit, to take him out, but you do what you’ve got to do. “You gonna hold me back?”

Bennett shakes his head, stepping into the closet. “I’ll just – I’ll go back in here. It’ll be like high school all over again. “

Adam steps past the door, and there’s Moxley. Jon fuckin’ Moxley, storming down the hallway like a man on a mission. Adam runs at him, noticing in the back of his mind that it was a picture perfect spear that sends them both crashing to the ground, fists flying. He hears the footprints of the security guards in the hall, close behind them, and he pulls them both to their feet. He turns around, taking a fist to the jaw as payment, and manages to grab the door to the showers and haul Moxley in there with him. Mox kicks the door shut behind them, then slams Adam against the wall.

“What the fuck,” he says, breathing hard, eyes dead on Adam’s, “do you think you’re doing here?”

Adam grins as he pushes against Moxley, freeing a hand to wipe the blood from his mouth. “Just what all of us are.”

Mox gives him a last shove and steps away, rolling his shoulders and shaking out his arms. He scrubs a hand over his face. “Last time I saw you, you got pulled out on a fuckin’ stretcher, and you come back like this?” He whirls back toward Adam. There’s blood dripping from his eyebrow. It makes his eyes look bluer, somehow. Mox thunders toward the showers, leaning his arms against the tile.

Adam lets out a harsh little laugh. “You were running your mouth up there. Somebody had to shut you up.”

Mox huffs out a little laugh. “Of all people, you had to be the one there. I nearly killed you.” He turns back to Adam. “You got any idea how shitty it’s been the past few weeks?”

“Probably as bad as getting your lights knocked out with a simple clothesline,” Adam says, shrugging. “People are out there calling me a pussy, man. You at least have the crowd behind you.”

Mox licks his lips. “Oh, we’re talking about things behind me now?” Adam’s never had that smile directed toward him, not out of the ring. Predatory, combative, hungry. But there’s something else in this smile. He stalks toward Adam. “You think I forgot about that last time we talked in the ring?” He rubs a thumb against his bottom lip, catching on the split in a way that sends a spark through Adam. He can’t tear his eyes away. “You got a look in your eye, kid.”

“I’m, like, six years younger than you.” Adam’s eyes flicker up. “Quit calling me kid.”

Mox rolls his shoulders again, the tension loosening not a bit, as he stares Adam down. “I got a question for you.”

Adam can’t help his eyes from flickering to Mox’s lips. From wondering if he can more with that mouth than just talk in the ring. “I might have an answer.”

“I wanna know what you meant with that laugh,” Mox says. “Sounded like a challenge.”

“What laugh?”

Mox crowds into him, close enough that he could line their bodies up if he wanted to, and Adam didn’t know he wanted it until this very moment. “When I told you I’d choke you ‘til you’re blue,” he says, that gruff voice nearly a whisper. “You looked a little too excited.” He runs his tongue along his bottom lip. “But not in a match way.”

Adam straightens. He’s eye level with Mox on any damned day, but, right now, it feels like more. “No,” he decides to say. “Not in a match way.”

Mox’s smile gets predatory, dangerous. Almost menacing, the way he gets when he’s hit with a good punch and he really feels it. “Yeah? Want to see if you can keep up with me like that?” He gets closer. Adam can smell the smoke on his breath from even before their fight, can see every crease in his forehead and scar on his skin. “Since you couldn't keep up in the match.”

“I kept –“ But he doesn’t get a chance to finish the sentence. Blood and teeth, Mox crashes against him, one hand twisted in the front of his shirt, and one, surprisingly, between the back of Adam’s head and the tile wall. Mox is managing to pull the two of them together and against the wall. Adam’s stunned a little bit, eyes still open, when Mox slides his tongue between his mouth, and his brain kicks into gear. He slides a leg in between Mox’s thighs, and he can feel him, he can feel Mox is hard, and it’s so much at once he can’t quite process. He does know one thing: he’s straining his jeans just as much as Moxley is.

Mox laughs against his lips, and Adam can feel the way it must look, can imagine that knowing grin. “Thought so.” His voice is low. “See, nobody goes after me in that way unless they have some,” he pauses, “ulterior motive.”

“Fuck off,” Adam says, and he pulls him back in so their teeth clash together, and it shockwave it sends through the back of his skull somehow makes it better. He shoves the leather jacket off of Moxley’s shoulders, the damned thing so tight around his biceps it takes him longer than he plans. Mox is looking up at him.

“Aw, you not strong enough to take off a coat?” Mox licks his lips. Adam doesn’t know whose blood paints his teeth. “You got my arms like this, I can’t choke you like you want.” Adam lets out a weird little laugh and, after a moment, he realizes it’s disturbingly similar to the one he said in the ring. “That’s what I like to hear.” Mox shakes off the jacket, stepping back. “Come on, baby, tell me what you like.”

“I –” Adam swallows, hard, and thinks about this. On every level, this is the worst idea he could have. Half an hour ago, he wanted to rip this man apart. Now, he’s ripping off his jacket, consequences be damned, and he can barely think straight. He’d blame the concussion, if he wanted to.

Adam decides thinking isn’t all it’s cracked up to be and trades it for gripping at the bottom of Mox’s shirt and pulling it off, hearing a tear in the fray. He throws it onto the ground. “Get in the shower.”

Mox steps back, leading with his infuriating hips as he walks. “After you, Cowboy.”

Rolling his eyes, he grabs the front of Mox’s shirt and practically throws him into the shower, a little too pleased at the mild crack of his head against the tile.

“That’s not exactly the you do me, I do you thing I was planning on here, but I get it,” Mox says. He drops to his knees, and Adam can’t get over the way it seems so natural to him, to boss Adam around. He wants it here. He wants it in the ring. He wants to clock Mox in the jaw as hard as he got clocked in November. “Get your pants off.”

Adam pauses for a moment. He’s not sure how this happened. He doesn’t know how to he got to this arena, how he’s looking at Mox, grinning up at him at the bottom of a shower on his knees.

“Commit or quit, kid, these knees ain’t young.”

Adam pulls his shirt off over his head and unbuckles his pants, carefully laying the belt and the buckle on a dry bench.

“Buckle means a lot to you, huh?” Mox asks.

Adam nods. “Family heirloom.”

Mox nods towards Adam’s cock. “Big stuff runs in the family, I guess.”

Adam wants to tell him to shut up, but he has a better idea. This man is always running his mouth, always talking, always ready to say something. Adam steps toward him and with a hand on Mox’s jaw, finds, quickly, that when he gets a cock in his mouth, he puts it to good use.

Adam would swear Mox laughs as he guides his cock down Mox’s throat, and Adam lets his head drop against the tile a little harder than he should. He tries to buck his hips, but Mox has an iron grip him and pushes him against the wall.

Mox pulls off of him, wiping his mouth. “You move again, I deck you.”

“Got it,” Adam says, and he closes his eyes and leans back. He grabs at Mox’s face, running his fingers along his jawline, and he whimpers when he can feel his own cock throbbing through Mox’s cheek.

“That’s it, baby,” Mox says, pulling away, just a little, “make that noise for me.”

Adam can’t help it. He lets it all out now: babbling nonsense, and only a little bit of it is actual words. He grips at Mox’s shoulder so hard he’s sure it’ll bruise. He’s also pretty sure that’s what Mox wants.

Mox pulls away, standing up and pressing Adam against the wall at the wrists. “You good?”

“Was,” Adam grunts. He bucks his hips up to get some sort of friction back, but Mox angles himself away. “What the fuck are you doing? Get back down there.”

Mox laughs, ducking in against his neck, biting there at Adam’s pulse point. “I only won last time because you got yourself a concussion,” he goes a little lower, bites a little harder, “and this time I want you to tap out.”

“What the fuck is this to you?” Adam says, pushing Mox away a little bit. “Another match? You want me to tap out? You want me down for the 1, 2, 3?” He feels exposed, used. “I wish I had knocked you out when I had the chance.”

Mox raises an eyebrow. “Who says you don’t still have a chance?”

He knows it’s bait. But Adam can’t help himself. He reels back and slams his fist into Mox’s face, right into his nose. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone that he held back, just a little. “You can go to hell,” Adam spits, and he grabs his clothes, pulling his shirt on over his head as he gets to the door. There’s hesitation, though, when Mox doesn’t demand he come back. Before he gets a hand on the doorknob, he turns. Mox is leaning up against the wall, shirtless, nonchalant. Adam eyes him silently, waiting for him to react. After a beat, Mox lifts his eyes to meet Adam’s. There’s a little new blood on his face.

It seals it for Adam, who groans. “I changed my mind.”

Mox rolls his head to the side, barely acknowledging him,

Adam feels the anger well inside him again, at the lack of response. “Mox, get on your fucking knees.”

Mox lights up. “Oh?”

“Get,” Adam says, throwing his clothes back down, throwing his shirt somewhere in the room, “on your knees.”

“You get on the bench.”

Adam stalks toward Mox and goes for the throat, hand closing around it as they back against the wall. “Quit fucking around.” He squeezes, just a little, before releasing him, just to get a little bit of that look into Mox’s eyes. “And finish sucking me off.”

“There’s that fire,” Mox says. He grabs Adam by the back of the neck, and practically throws him into a shower. “Easier cleanup,” he explains.

Adam’s about to throw something. “How is that where your mind is –” but he’s back on his knees and his mouth is back on Adam and there’s not much else on his mind other than the feel of the tile against his bare skin and Mox’s mouth around his cock.

Adam’s only able to let out this half laugh, half sob as he’s getting closer, but Mox doubles down. Adam is close, and he digs his fingers into Moxley’s shoulders, and he hopes what little nails he has bite into the skin. When he lets out this garbled little sound, Mox stands back up.

Adam’s breathing stutters. “The fuck, man?”

“You had a very specific request.” And that’s when the hand goes around Adam’s neck. First loose, gentle, allowing Adam to pull away or push him off. It only makes Adam want more of it. He puts his hand on Mox’s, and pushes down.

Mox laughs, the sound dark and low. “If that’s how you want it, Cowboy.”

Adam lets it wash over him, just a little, but he’s still feeling a little too vulnerable to let go. He snakes his hand between the two of them, getting a hand around Mox’s cock. Like it’s involuntary, Mox thrusts up, and uses his free hand to tangle around Adam’s fingers, the two of them stroking each other with a frenetic, graceless pace that has Adam’s head spinning. He’s thrusting up into Mox’s grip, head tilted upwards, and he feels Mox’s teeth at his jaw. He tightens the circle of his hand, feeling the girth of Mox’s cock, feeling the heat of it move. Mox does something particularly effective with his thumb, and Adam braces himself against the wall with his free hand. It flails against the faucet. The freezing shock of it startles them both, with the hand leaving Adam’s throat.

Mox looks bewildered. “You could have just said hit me if you wanted me to stop.”

“No, accident, get back here.” Adam reaches for him desperately, because the only thing worse than Mox’s hand around him is Mox’s hand anywhere else.

The water shifts warmer, and Mox rolls his eyes. “Fuck, you’re a handful,” he looks down, and laughs. “I guess literally.”

“Shut up and get me off,” Adam demands. He grins when that both of those hands go back to where they belong, around his neck and cock. Head swimming, he can tell he’s close by the way his hips stutter. He gets rougher around Mox, more deliberate, and the hoarse, choked out moan is the best reward.

“Fuck me,” Mox groans, and, with one last heave of his hips, he comes all over Adam. Adam thinks he’ll hold this memory until death, when suddenly he’s out of air and coming, too. Mox does too good a job, though, and Adam loses his balance, sliding to the floor in the mess of water. Mox twists them so it’s his elbow cracking into the tile, and his forearm behind Adam’s head. “You got a kink for concussions, too?” Mox asks, bewildered. The red blush has spread all over him, all the way down to where his jeans, now soaked, are pooled around his feet.

Adam’s not quite in it again, still a little dazed, and he’s sucking down air to steady himself. He looks around. “Dude,” he says, half impressed, “you cracked the shower.”

Mox moves, and there’s a clinking sound that echoes through the room. “Tony’s gonna kill me,” he grumbles.

“Well, you cracked his favorite wrestler’s skull a few weeks back, and he was okay then.” Adam shuffles to his feet, stumbling through the water and the haze. He stands under the water a little bit, trying to wash off some of the come that seemed to have shot to his chest.

Moxley grumbles something that sounds like, “Fucking cowboy,” but he crowds behind him, pushing him out of the water.

There’s a thudding, rhythmic sound from outside the room, and Adam’s got the impression it’s been going on for a while.

Mox licks his lips, the blood on his face washing away. Adam thinks it’s a bit of a shame. “Wanna tell them we beat the shit out of each other?”

Adam shrugs. “If the alternative is admitting we had sex without one of Megha’s workplace relationship contracts? Yes.”

The water’s still running when Adam pulls on his shirt and jeans. When he turns it off, he hears the voices outside.

“If you concuss him again, I’m actually going to fine you this time!” It’s Tony Khan. “Open this goddamn door!” The door handle rattles again.

Mox sighs. “Aw, fuck.” He yanks his torn shirt over his head as he walks to the door, his leather jacket over his arm. “He’s not dead.”

“Oh, good, that’s reassuring,” Tony says, pushing past him. He slows to a stop when he looks around, seeing Adam’s disheveled state. “What, and I say this with as much respect as either of you have earned tonight, the fuck happened here?”

Adam shrugs. “We fucked in the shower.” Mox snorts. “What the hell do you think we did, Tony? We worked it out.”

Tony sighs. “I’m making you two do a shit ton of publicity work to pay for this,” he points around. “You people are going to be the end of me.” He looks at Adam, stepping closer. “Oh, fuck, Mox, did you try to choke him out?” He gestures to Adam’s neck. He turns to the mirror. There’s a few clear fingerprints there, along with bruises that would be hard to attribute to anything other than what they are.

Mox shrugs. “You heard him a few weeks back, there. He asked for it.”

Adam gently touches his neck. “I did.”

Mox throws back his head in a laugh like Adam’s never heard it. Tony sits on the bench and drops his head in his hands.

#Adam Page #Jon Moxley #Hangman Adam Page #in which Sara writes #HangMox #Oh god I can't believe I'm posting this #I don't know how to tag this #wtf i like wrestling now???#mox: I'm gonna choke you #hangman: choke me like you hate me but you love me #mox: yeah sure cool baller #mox x hangman

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bella-donna418 · 4 years ago

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Filipino AU HC

A/N: Fun fact: I’m a Filipino yayy :DDD

So I decided to this headcanon with let’s say, “my” (it depends if you ship them too OwO) ships wearing my country’s national outfit/costume which is a “Filipiniana and Barong Tagalog” 😂😂😂

This is actually what I think they'd react/do when trying them out.

Also pics came from google. (I might get sued LMFAOO—)

Also this is couples sooo wearing something quite modernized versions—

These are also customized ones and the boys are simply wearing black pants 😂😂😂

~~~

So Hanji, someone who loves exploring things, decided it's nice to try something out and explore culture.

~~~

Eremika

Ok, THEY WOULD LOOK SO FINE—

While trying it out, Mikasa was feeling weird and felt like she's carrying something at her bottom part 😂😂😂

Eren would be like, "Are you alright?" or like, "Can you even walk with that?"

Mikasa replies with a nod of reassurance.

Her hair is also like decorated with pearl pins (also something we do in Philippines while wearing the Filipiniana OwO)

Eren was just staring at her (especially that her cleavage is showing-) as he put his hair in his iconic manbun (y e s-) and puts the barong on.

So Mikasa got the hang of it and tried walking

She was so slow—probably because it was her first time and the dress was so huge and she was also wearing heels trying not to trip 😂😂😂

Eren was trying not to laugh at her but she looked so funny trying to walk—

He fails and he ends up laughing so hard Mikasa just straight up glared at him making him stop.

So Eren walked towards her and due to the dress being like big, he had to kinda adjust the dress' folds so he can get nearer to her and get her hand so they could walk together.

While walking to their meeting place, Eren was stealing glances at Mikasa's "thing" (this dude is h0rny and thirsty™)

Mikasa then noticed and raised a brow at him—Eren looking at her and smiling sheepishly (got caught redhanded)

She smirks and tightens her grip on his arm making Eren curse softly because of how strong her grip was and it's definitely painful.

"You can stare at it all you want later." She whispered to him grinning—Eren shrugging it off.

Outfit pics:

AruAni

Another fine couple— (who am I kidding they are all fine—)

Annie is wearing the dress and OH MY FUCKING GOD.

SHE LOOKS SO GREAT.

Her hair is down and she has pearl pins at the left side of her hair (like those korean ways of putting hairpins—)

She's just staring at Armin who seems to be quite focused in fixing himself.

Armin then looked at Annie and he was just in awe.

She looked at him—kinda forgetting her uncomfortable situation at the moment.

He walked towards her to give her a hand since she does look like she's carrying the bottom half of her body due to the size of her dress (same experiences with Mikasa 😂😂😂)

Armin was smiling at her while Annie is just blushing madly (let us insert her simping and screaming internally)

"Uncomfortable?" He asked—Annie shaking her head no (even if she is)

He laughed lightly and Annie's grip tightened a bit—Armin definitely knowing she is uncomfortable.

Outfit pics:

JeanPiku

Ok so far... when I try to think of them—my stupid nonexistent ass (yes I'm assless like Eren 😂😂😂) would be like, "first thought, height—"

Pieck prefers dresses that won't reach the floor (because they're hard to drag around)

Jean is quite confused why Hange would decided to make them wear this (Jean I'm offended— jkjk 😂😂😂) for some kind of dinner party she put up.

He'd keep questioning why she decided this was some kind of idea—Pieck always answering them.

Pieck would have her hair down (they're quite wavy) and she'd wear a simple pearl headband (but she so pretty 🥺👉👈)

Luckily, Jean won't have to find himself having to adjust her dress to make room for him to be near (oof for Eren and Armin 😂😂😂)

But their height differences makes Pieck look like she's clinging to a tree when walking 😂😂😂

Outfit pics:

NicoSasha (Yes, I also ship these two)

The usual Sasha, eating beforehand

Her hair would be in her usual ponytail and she's wearing a pearl hair tie

Both of them are just enjoying themselves with this, Niccolo also taking some (Sasha shares her food with him sometimes)

They also did not mind at all

Like Jean, he doesn't have to find himself adjusting dresses to make room for him to be near

Outfit pics:

LeviHan

Ah yes, Hange being the mastermind of this—

Talking about it, Levi was really against this idea—but knowing Hange, he just 'tched' at it since even if he told her not to, she'd still do it

Hange's definitely enjoying it since she kept humming melodic tunes

He wasn't even sure where her idea of wearing "these" came from

Hange's hair was also put up in a simple cinammon bun secured with pearl pins

Levi did find her beautiful in it but he still won't buy it since SHE was the one who thought all of this

And yes, her dress is short (you know already, I said it twice—)

When she'd look at him, a grin forms on her face and was like, "You look great in it!" Levi rolling his eyes and the iconic "tch"

Outfit pics:

~~~

A/N: YES FINALLY!!!

Ok ik I kept mentioning pearl clips, headbands, etc.

It's because pearls are the common stuff here and we'd wear them on special occasions that requires us to wear the national costume/outfit (yes in school we used to do that)

Also didn’t know how long this was in my drafts and editing it until now 😂😂😂

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed!

(Remind me to stop making HCs cuz they're literally failing lol)

(Maka-recognize kung kanino yung 4 na yan may sampung piso 😂😂😂)

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mcklunkers · 4 years ago

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Welcome to day 5 of random Star Wars shitposty headcanons!

Y’all ready for todays mess? Let’s GOOO:

-When Eli first met Thrawn, he taught him music in the empire. But Eli was biased and taught about his favourite first i.e Country music. This led to Thrawn wandering around his quarters in a cowboy hat singing “baby lock them doors and turn the lights down low” at various points in his career despite not fully understanding the words.

-The officers in charge of the security cameras on the chimeara watch with popcorn when it happens. Whole ship viewing parties because honestly? That shit is glorious.

-Grogu translates to Greg. That’s it, that’s the whole headcanon.

-Padme likes cheesy horror movies, Anakin likes musicals. They can never decide what to watch.

-Kallus used to figure skate while at the Academy to “help with his fighting.” He was pretty good, and still likes visiting ice planets to show off with his friends.

-Wolffe will bite his brothers without hesitation if he’s losing during a spar.

-Kix did Jesse’s tattoo and Jesse did Kix’s. When he wakes out of carbon freeze, Kix keeps his hair long because the tattoo is a constant reminder of his lost brothers.

-Thrawn had a manbun at some point in his life.

-When Obi-Wan cut the mullet, he told people it was to look more professional. It actually just kept getting in the way, but when he tied it back it reminded him of Qui-Gon and he couldn’t deal. Plus it got in his food and that was not a vibe.

-Qui-Gons hair was long because Dooku kept talking him to cut it and he grew it out of spite. He also wore shades, cargo shorts and flip flops at every possible opportunity. The one constant in his off time is that he will wear the most obnoxious, disgusting brightly coloured horribly patterned shirts he can get his hands on. Because he could. I just imagine Dooku walking around in a fancy suit with this long haired hippy gremlin dressed like a Woodstock attendee at he beach, wishing he picked a different padawan.

-Like Jedi go to the crèche, clones teach lessons to little clones when back on Kamino to “help train the future of the GAR.” The thing is though they just play with them. Fives and Echo compete with each other to make the cadets laugh, Wolffe sits and helps them with homework, Bly will doodle with them. Cody and Rex will tell them stories - never about the war though, always about dumb shit their brothers got up to. It was one of these days that Rex and Fives first met Hardcase and Tup.

-Maul can’t drive for shit, so Savage has to drive him around all the time.

-Ahsoka runs all of the temples social media. It’s supposed to be glorified propaganda, but it’s actually just pictures of Jedi doing dumb shit. Kit Fisto doing pull ups in just shorts, Quinlan Vos getting slapped by a local after he flirts with her husband, Yoda eating weird stuff, Mace Windu conked out in his council chair just sprawled out completely. Anakins weird faces when he falls over, clone troopers having impromptu dance battles as obi-wan drunkenly sings karaoke while on leave. Support for the republic gets a lot louder while the accounts running.

-The account got taken down though after she posted a selfie with Plo Koon that accidentally had Ventress sneaking around in the background on one of the ships without anyone noticing.

I need to find a hobby? But enjoy, and if you have any shitpost-y thoughts or criticisms, feel free to let me know lmao 😁

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natsukitakama · 4 years ago

Note

Du coup Eren Manbun alphabet fluffy 🙃🙃 je sais pas si je peux spécifier un truc sur reader je te dis quand même et tu fais ce que tu veux buuut j’aimerais bien que reader soit femAlbinos 🤧 voilà ~ bon courage 😂

Author note : alright let’s get my first alphabet headcanon ! What better way to start it than to write about Eren ? So as requested reader would be a FemAlbinos, I hope I did justice to your ask ♡ Let me know what you thought about it !

i do not own the gif credit to the owner

Warning : Fem pronoun / Mention of people being turned on / Mention of what happened during Mahr event (but it’s vague)

Masterlist

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Since both of you didn’t have much free time, you always make sure to take benefit of every occasion you find. Most of the time you enjoy a nice walk during noon holding your hands together while talking about your future. When you are lucky, you could enjoy some quality time on town with your boyfriend, there nothing he won’t do for you. If you want to go shopping he will gladly help you finding the most beautiful dress or shirt, Eren would absolutely love having a nice meat with you since they couldn’t afford that while being in the military. If you can’t go outside for whatever reason, both of you would definelty spend the day on bed while hugging each other : there something about your warmth, your smell or maybe it’s just you but he can’t get enough of you.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

You find it absolutely cliché but he absolutely loves your hair, there is something about it. When you first met he was a bit taken-apart by your physics he Never someone as pale as you before, he finds it absolutely attractive while you thought it was a burden. Everytime you complained how you’re not like any people he always praised about how unique you are and how lucky he is (him being so « normal ») to have you by his side. He’ll always praise your hair or the color of your eyes and if he heard someone being offensive about you : he’ll kick the shit out of them.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Before shingashima’s event, Eren always faced bullies, he was bullying himself and always try to fight them since as long as he could remember. He hates from the deep of his soul. After loosing his mum he suffered from anxiety attack, after all he had the humanity’s weight on his shoulder since he is a teenager. Years after years he works on himself so he won’t feel anxious. So he knows how it feels being overwhelmed by your feeling, feeling that no matter how har you tried you would never be good enough. He never knows how to stop it though. So the first time you had a panic attack, all he did was putting his hand on your shoulder and help you catching your breath again. Then step by step, he learned from books, friends and by his own experience what works for you when it came to calm you down : He became the best at it.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

His goal when it came to your relationship are pretty simple : He wants freedom for every people he cared about. When it’s about his girlfriend, after one year of being together he knows deep down he will marry you eventually. He always wanted a family, he cherish so much his family’s memory it’s by far his best memory. So yeah he wants to marry you and have children with you, he always wanted to have his family on his own even if he already has a family in the survey corps.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Oh BOY. That’s a difficult question. He is not dominant but it’s not passive too you know ? He won’t control you because of his philosophy about freedom but at the same time he is very possessive : not that he is not secure in your relationship, he trust you but not men. Hell he starts despise them when he saw the way they were looking at you, as if you were a jewel. He can’t help but feeling angry when he saw someone lusting on you, he find it disgusting. He’ll punch every people looking like you like this. But again both of you are equal in the relationship, he doesn’t see the point of pretending being the « dominant » while it wasn’t really the case. Basically when you two have an argument people realized how much « equal » means.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Yes and No. Depends on what started the fight in the first place. If it something really stupid like being angry because you talked a little bit too much with Jean , Eren would apologize quickly cause he knows it didn’t mean : anger just take over him. But if it something really deep, like you questioning his motivation I don’t think he would apologize for having his own believe so you’ll have to go to him and explaining that you didn’t wanted to sound mean but just wanted to be sure he know what he’s doing. You tends to apologize more than him, he has his own pride and can be quite stubborn if he thought he was right.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

People tends to think he is not grateful about what Mikasa have done for him but that’s not true, he is grateful for having such wonderful friends who are always on his back. He trusts them and cares a lot about them but sometimes he needs to feel he could do everything without them you know ? He need to know that he is enough. Same thing for his girlfriend, he loves seeing her taking care of him especially after training because it reminds him of his mum. He always loved being cherish even when you’re worried about him : he just loves seeing how much you care for him but at the same time he doesn’t want to be seen as weak (that’s why he is always so rude about Mikasa he wants her to see has a man not a lost puppy or a baby). He expects you to see him as he truly is but he would never be enough grateful for your kindness for him. Really even when he complains about how you worried so much for him he deeply loves that.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Eren has a trust issues, he need to be trusted otherwise he won’t start a relationship. Remember how sad he was when Levi’s squad was about to kill them ? He needs to feel secure in his relationship so he would never hide something from you. He will be really pissed if you hide something from him, he might never forgive you for that. The only secret he has from you was his last plan for Mahr, again it’s not about not trusting you but protecting you.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

You definitely have a good impact on him. Since you two started your relationship, Eren started to be more cautious and less stubborn he even worked on his anger so it won’t take the best on him. He always worked hard to be sure people saw him as a strong people especially people who know him since a long time (He craves for Mikasa’s recognition fight me on that) but since you came into his life he realized that he was okay to fail that he was only human so he has every right to feel down sometimes. You helped him to become more mature and a better human (according to him)

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Yeah he is jealous a lot. Like I said he feel secure around you, he trusted you. But oh god he doesn’t any male on this earth. Initially he is kinda possessive around you, but since you are especially unique not only on Eren’s eye but to everyone eyes’. Most of the time when he saw someone being a little too flirty at his own taste he will sent them his best glare, like I said he trusted you enough to know you would kick their ass if they were bothering you. However if he felt like you were uncomfortable with someone he won’t hesitate but start a fight to take you away from that prick. Eren does not share which is his. On the other side if you tease him by being a bit flirty with someone (Reiner or Jean if you want results) and he knows you’re doing this on purpose : 5sec later you’ll find yourself stuck with him in a storeroom, your back against the wall while he was kissing your neck.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Absolutely he is one of the best kisser of the survey corps, he puts everything he had on each kiss he got you : he is passionate and wants you to feel it. Each kiss he will give would let you breathless. He loves kissing on your lips, but forehead kiss are the most for him. If you want to flustered him, give him a good peck on his cheeks he finds it absolutely adorable and never failed to make him blush.

When it came to his first kiss, it was quite something. You’ve been flirting with each other since a couple of months and it was obvious now for everyone that he has a crush on you. However, neither of you seemed to acknowledge that. One day, after the Mahr event you met him on the street : you know he wasn’t supposed to be here but for now you couldn’t careless. You felt your heart hitting your chest, you knew you have to confess it was now or never but he didn’t let you talk. « Do you hate me? » his question surprised you, what would you hate him ? Of course you were questioning his attitude cause he seemed a bit cold since he was back. « I don’t » you simple said. Without much saying, Eren walks directly in front of you he was very closed to you enough to feel his breath on you with one of his hand he stroke your cheek while looking directly at your eyes searching for any emotion which one ? You didn’t know. « You should hate me I’m a monster I always was ». Closing your eyes for a second enjoying the way he was stroking your cheek, you only open your eyes when he called himself a monster : you put both of your hand on his face moving your closed to him « You’re not a monster Eren You did what you thought you have to, I would always trust you no matter if I don’t understand your plan I’ll always have cause I love you and I trust you » with that you felt your body shaken a little bit but you didn’t have time to notice cause you felt Eren’s lips on yours. He gave everything on the kiss as if he tried to let you see his feeling.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

It took him time to realize how much he cares about you, he never thought he would have the chance of being in love since he was very busy. But then he met you and everything shattered : he has a chance now to have someone by his side, someone to love. He realized he has every rights to live his own life. His confession would be spontaneous. It could be after a battle while he thought he was about to lose you or because you were pretty badass while killing some titans and he was afraid you might no be interested on him after that. He would take you apart and just confess like « I know I might be a piece of work but I really love you and I care for you a lot so please be mine ? »

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

I already answer at this earlier, yeah since you two started a relationship he knows at the end when you would be free he would ask you to become his wife. He wants to have his own family with you. When he felt that the moment have came, he created a plan to make the best proposal ever (bless him) : he would take you at the place you two have confessed but will make like he came here quite by chance. He will joke about his confession and how flustered he was, you will tease him about him being a whole mess after you kiss him on the cheeks as an acceptance to become his. One second after he was one kneel on the floor holding your hand and looking at you right into your eyes « And Would you love to be mine forever ? » then he opens a tiny velvet box with a gorgeous ring.

If you thought he was more than ready for his proposal, well he is even more ready in fact he already know how to managed his wedding more than his proposal (If he could marry you without proposal he would do it since he has already planned). He knows who would be his best man who would be at this table who he should keep away from wine etc etc. The only thing you have to do is choosing your dress and the flowers cause for him they look the same. He has bad taste about flower. He tried to make something intimate but he failed cause he has so many people around him, tone of people, tone of foods so yeah it was pretty big but you enjoy this anyway.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Outside he calls you by your name cause it embarrass him to be seen as cheesy but counterbalance his lack of « intimate » by holding your hand, when you are alone or just with some friends he calls you sweetheart or honey. He loves when you call him sweetie or honey but expect you to call him by his name when you are outside. He’ll only call you with your nickname when he feels jealous or wants attention from you.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Its obvious to anyone but you, seriously how could you not see him being a mess everytime you were around him ? Everyone even people he barely knows know about his crush on you. At first he tried to impress you by working hard on his fight style, then after he noticed he doesn’t really work (it does he just didn’t notice your eyes check is how gorgeous arm while he was working out) he started to have small talk with you just to get to know you more and when he was confortable enough ask more personnel question. It’s only when he runs into you after being catched by a titan that you realized he might have a crush on you.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Eren jaeger is needy fight me on this : he craves for any sign of affection he could have from you. I already said that on another headcanon before, but to him there is time you two have to behave and being professional and there is time where he won’t put his hand away from you. Most of the time when you’re not doing military activity he always holds your hand he just like the feeling of your hand close to his. Time to time when no one was looking at you he would kiss your hand or your forehead but if there are too many people around you he would stroke your hand instead of being intimate in front of them. He loves you from the deep of his heart but can’t be cheesy around you.

When you are in some private place or around some of his close friends like Armin, he won’t hesitate to put an arm around your waist to have you closer to him, stroking your hair or your cheeks, kissing you on your cheeks. He keeps his kiss on lips when you are alone since he tends to be handy when you two kissed.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He won’t admit it, but seeing you wearing his cloth is huge turn of from him besides that there something about you wearing his cloth that he loves : probably the fact that it was like you were marked from him. If he saw you wearing his jacket, not only he would be flustered cause you look so adorable but he would feel so proud to have you wearing HIS cloths it’s like carrying a « I belong to Eren Jaeger » sign which he really loves.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He is cheesy, not very the best when it came to express his feelings. Remember when he confess to you ? He was at his best. I’m not joking he is just super spontaneous with his feelings and if he feels he need to say « I love you » he would say it just like this. That being said, he tried to be more romantic to please you cause of course he can’t taking you for granted so he’ll always work hard so he could seduce you. He’ll tried to send you cute note, got your favorite food, even buy flower (just to be sure he buys roses cause he heard women praising them so). He even bought you a necklace for your one year in relationship it was kinda simple but you cherish it.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He won’t dating you if you haven’t a goal in the first place. He loves people who are passionate about something, it doesn’t have to « saving humanity » but as long as you crave for something he will support you. Hell he became your first supporter, he’ll fight (with Mikasa and Armin) anyone who dare being bad at you. If it’s something he doesn’t know shit about, he will gladly educate himself or with the help or Armin, he loves showing off about his knowledge.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

His life is a whole mess, it can’t start anything because everytime something happen and he has to evolve. So having a certain routine with you is a most, just couple things like who is the big spoon, when you could have your night date. But don’t worry, he’ll always spice things up he just appreciate some stability.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He knows them like the back of his hands, it took time for him cause at first he was pretty obvious about some of your reaction but he works on himself and analyze every reaction not only when you two were intimidate but also when you were surrounded by titans or when you were training. He knows everything and how to behave you felt down etc. It didn’t stop him for being a prick time to time when he thought he was right. Especially when it came to your disease, he knows you had to be protected from the sun so everytime you were outside he made sure to have something to protect you from him. Again if he noticed you have some struggle with your sight he’ll make sure you’ll see a doctor for that. He is pretty thoughtful.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

You’re the most precious thing to him he loves from the deep of his heart, there nothing he won’t do for you. He cares so much about you, he even realized one day that he’ll give his life if he was sure you’ll be safe and free. He’ll always protect you, he can’t lose not after everything he’ve been through. That being said, unfortunately he won’t say you anything about his plan to make his people free but you know that no matter what he did he did for his people and for you.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

As much as he enjoys being the big spoon, there is time when he feels the need of being the little one. But he won’t ask for it, no no he is too damn pride for that. Instead, he will slowly moved on the bed, putting his arm on your waist and then inch by inch putting his body on the top of you, his head on your chest as his pillow and then he’ll humming. He tried to be subtle but you know better so you just puts him even close to you and holds him while stroking his hair to help him falling asleep. Usually he’ll do such a thing when he feels particularly sad or lonely, he need to be loved but won’t ask for it.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Like I said earlier he is needy, but he knows better than being too affectionate while he was supposed to be professional. He knows a lot of people put their hope on him so he has to work hard to not disappoint them. As much as it hurts him, he couldn’t hug you or kissing you everytime but he’ll always find a time during night to see you just to hug you, kiss you and told you how much he loves you just to counterbalance the fact that he couldn’t love you the way he wants to.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

He won’t. Fight me on this, but he neither cope with the death of his mother nor from Levi’s squad. No matter how hard he tried he never grieve from any’s people death. He always feels like he could do something about it, he blamed him no matter if he could do something about it. If he looses his girlfriend because of a Titan he will hate himself for the rest of his life for not being able to protect her : he only has one job and yet he failed. How could he live like that ? Loosing you would definitely have a huge impact of the men he will became.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

He will give his life for you. You are far too precious. It would be his first relationship so everything won’t be perfect but he’ll do everything to make you happy I already said it couple of times but there nothing he won’t do for you. He loves you with everything he got. You are is sun, you were there when he need you the most, you help him to grown up, to become the man he is now. He’ll work so hard to make things work, but he’s not an idiot if he feels like you won’t get along or they’re no future for both of you he’ll let you go even if it hurts : he won’t force you to do anything you were against and same for you. He’s an healthy partner.

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whathebash · 4 years ago

Photo

⌠ BOOBOO STEWART, TWENTY-THREE, CIS MALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, SEBASTIAN “BASH” STEWART! according to their records, they’re a SECOND year, specializing in KNIFE FIGHTING SKILLS, SWORD TRAINING, PRECISION SHOOTING, FIREARMS & SWAT TRAINING + MEDICAL TRAINING; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (messy manbun, lips pressed together tightly, head stuck in a thick book). when it’s the (cancer)’s birthday on 6/30/1997, they always request their VEGAN CHEESESTEAK from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation.

NAME: James Belikov Sebastian Stewart

KNOWN AS: Bash

BIRTHDATE: June 30, 1997

ASTROLOGY: Cancer sun / Taurus moon / Aquarius rising

HOMETOWN: Fredonia, AZ

RESIDENCE: Roseville, VA ( Gallagher Academy )

GENDER: Cis male ( he/him )

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual

HEIGHT: 5'8"

HAIR COLOR: Dark brown

EYE COLOR: Dark brown

TATTOOS: coordinates of Munich ( where his parents had been killed ) on the inside of his right arm, a paw print on the bottom of his arm/shoulder, a Japanese quote on his side, an eagle on his back between his shoulder blades, a band around his left arm

KNOWN LANGUAGES: English, Russian, Japanese, Spanish, & some German, French, Italian

IMMEDIATE FAMILY:

Vladislav Belikov: Father, Blackthorne alum and former Brotherhood member turned spy for hire, deceased

Rosemarie Belikov: Mother, spy for hire, deceased

Aurora Belikov Spencer Stewart: Younger sister, second year at Gallagher Academy

Clarissa Belikov Summer Stewart: Younger cousin sister, second year at Gallagher Academy

BACKGROUND.

Sebastian Stewart was born James Belikov, the eldest son of two spies whose world-renowned families had been in the business for generations. Him and his sister Aurora lived fairly sheltered on their Arizona ranch for the first few years of their life, cut off from civilization, with only their parent's visiting friends as rare guests. From a young age they both were groomed by their parents to be the absolute best, and nothing less. Jay Belikov grew up with a gun in his hand before he learned how to ride a bike, and instead of receiving a car for his sixteenth birthday, his parents let him and his sister join them on professional missions.

Even before they were old enough to assist on missions, the Belikovs often let their son and daughter travel along with them to wherever the mission was, only staying back in Arizona when the stakes were too high. They had never known spy prep schools or universities like Gallagher or Blackthorne existed until their family friends began enrolling, and the news trickled down to them. Their parents had always been very adamant that the schools were useless, and the best training they could receive was by their sides, where they were treated like professionals. It was a position most budding spies would kill for.

From a young age, he had always hated the spy life. Part of it stemmed from the fact that he was never given a choice in what he wanted to do with life; his parents were world-renowned spies, like their parents, and their children would be the same. Him and his sister had grown up where failure was not an option, nor was arguing. His parents, though both kind and caring in their own way, made it clear that if they wanted out of the spy life, that meant losing them for good. And while he didn't always agree with them, family was EVERYTHING to him. So he learned to push down his own feelings and keep on trekking, for the sake of his family.

In May, his parents had been on a mission when he and his sister were given word that they had been killed on the job, and were immediately sent into witness protection. It wasn't until being contained that they learned a little more : their deaths hadn't had anything to do with their most recent job, but likely due to a previous one that James, Clarissa and Rory potentially participated in. Being placed in witness protection was for their safety, and with it came new identities. Sebastian -- who insisted on going by Bash -- was devastated and in shock, but he had hoped that maybe this would mean a reason to be pushed into the normal world, one where he could leave the spy world for good. Instead, him, Aurora ( now Spencer ) and Clarissa ( now Summer ) were detained at a facility for six months, where they were unable to see any friends or family, have contact with the outside world, or do anything that could be considered a security breach before being sent to Gallagher Academy.

GALLAGHER ACADEMY.

Bash and his sisters joined Gallagher Academy halfway through the fall semester, thrown into majors they didn't pick and classes that had already finished midterms. For a boy who had never been to an organized school before, to say it had been culture shock would be an understatement. However, it turned out that school was actually… something he liked ? Not the classrooms and curriculum themselves, but being in a place with other people his age, all with similar backgrounds as him, and -- even better -- ones with different backgrounds. Though he's met quite a few spy families through his parents, seeing them had always been few and far between, making it a very alienating lifestyle. It was nice to be around people his own age, and though shy, Bash had been able to make friends and start a life for himself.

At the beginning of the new year, Bash had been able to change one of his majors from combat to medical training, an area that's always interested him from a young age ( unfortunately, he was probably the only boy in America who had parents who didn't want him to be a doctor ) . He also entered a relationship -- his first ever -- with a girl he had been penpals with when he was younger. Of course, he couldn't tell her that he was her old friend Jay, though the truth always finds a way of coming out. She learned the truth on the night of the Valentine's Day party, causing a rift between them right in time for the three day school-wide lockdown and murder of his very own roommate. Eventually they reconciled and he told her the whole truth, and she became one of two people outside him and Spencer who knew the truth about his identity.

That wasn't the only twist in the semester, unfortunately. A few months later, an email blast was sent around with names of previous members of the Brotherhood, a terrorist organization that had targeted Gallagher once before, and had now returned. Bash's father had been on that list. This was all news to him, who had never thought his father had anything to do with spy schools, based on how he had been raised. With his Uncle Jack ( not related, just a close family friend ) at Gallagher as one of the alumni mentors, he had been able to learn the truth : his father had actually attended Blackthorne Institute. Once that bubble had been popped, Bash slowly began to see his parents in a new light.

After a particularly challenging semester, Bash had been happy to get invited to Berlin for a summer internship -- not because of the experience, but because he and Spencer still had no home to return to while school was out. They've officially been in witness protection for a year, and as far as they were aware, no strides had been made in their parent's case, so they decided to take matters into their own hands. Bash asks his encryption major girlfriend to look into the deaths of his parents, and from hacking into the German Intelligence's system, she was able to find that they had been killed in Munich, at the hands of an assassin -- and Bash's roommate's father.

So the hunt to learn more about their deaths and the potential danger he and Spencer are in continues, all while Bash is beginning to get blackmailed by an anonymous source that knows about him and his sister's past... and threaten to expose it. He hasn't told anybody about it, not wanting to worry them, but with so many moving parts going on in his life -- as well as an unknown future -- Bash is beginning to lose control.

PERSONALITY.

Bash is a quiet kid, not one to say much. After being homeschooled his entire life and being surrounded by nobody but his family, he’s pretty socially awkward around strangers and new people. His way of getting around it is keeping his head down and trying not to make waves, which is exactly what he does at Gallagher, though he has since found himself with more friends than he ever thought possible.

He had been raised not as an individual, but as one cog in the machine, and he always considered himself as such. His own individuality and thoughts and feelings had never really been something Bash had to take into consideration, so he's still really trying to figure out who he wants to be. Above all, he wants to get out of the spy world, but even with his parents being gone, he's afraid of ruining their legacy and losing his sister in the process. Now that his parents are gone, he wants more than ever than to make them proud.

Bash is very non-confrontational and passive, a textbook people pleaser. You could pour soup into his lap and he'd apologize. He's a great friend, and an amazing listener ( the type to actually remember when you tell him things ) , but as a conversationalist ? He could be better.

MORE INFORMATION / HEADCANONS.

He's fluent in Russian because it's his father's native language, and knows Japanese because of his mother.

Bash is fiercely protective of his little sister Spencer, even though he knows she can take care of herself.

Of all the different lessons and skills his parents had taught him, Bash has always been best at hand-to-hand combat, excelling above most men his age. There's rarely a fight that he'll lose -- it's one of the reason he switched out of combat major to something different, because he didn't love the attention that came with it. He rarely fights or works on his combat skills, though he's always willing to help a friend out who needs it. He's a great tutor.

What he's not good at is anything that involves cracking a textbook. Bash is an undiagnosed dyslexic, so reading and writing has never been his strong suit. Luckily, when you're homeschooled by crazy spy parents, it's not really a skill that's needed.

For his most recent birthday, his Uncle Jack had gifted him a fishing boat that he had previously owned, named after James himself. Don't ask me where it is right now because I have no idea.

He's been a vegan since he was sixteen. His mother had been a vegan for as long as he could remember, so even before he fully made the change, it was often all he ate. Bash was a total mama's boy, as if that's any surprise.

CURRENT & WANTED CONNECTIONS HERE.

#gallagher:intro #this one isn't as good bc ya girl got LAZY

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violetsmoak · 5 years ago

Text

Philtatos [4/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101543/chapters/47615902

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: During a patrol where Red Hood and Red Robin cross paths, Jason is infected with the blood of the Eros, the ancient God of Love, who informs them that they must track down his missing bow and arrows, or Jason will go slowly mad with an obsessive desire–for Tim. Though overwhelmed by the sudden attention being paid to him, Tim sets to work trying to solve the case, before Jason succumbs to madness. In the meantime, Jason discovers that there’s more than godlike powers at work here, as well as a legacy that reaches back through the sands of time.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Beta Reader: None at the moment.

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #gods in disguise #secrets #shield #undying love

First Chapter

Author's Note(s): This one's a little less polished since my computer decided to eat half the chapter and I had to rewrite it in a hurry, but I'll fix it later.

________________________________________________________________

How does this even happen?

It’s tempting for Tim to let his head fall against the computer console in his frustration.

A week in, and nothing. No reports of random people wandering around with a bow and arrows, none of his underworld contacts have mentioned anything showing up at on the black-market or at illegal auctions. It’s as if Eros’ diviners have vanished into thin air.

That he’s frustrated is putting it lightly.

Adding to that is the fact he hasn’t seen or heard from Jason in the same amount of time. The other vigilante finally appears to have found the tracer Tim stuck on him and sent it on a trip to the Gotham City dump. It’s both a relief, because it means he’s acting like himself, and a disappointment, because it means he’s still resistant to Tim’s help.

Apparently when he asserted the Red Hood would eventually reach out to him, he underestimated the exact amount of stubborn that is Jason Todd. He’d come to Eros about something, as Tim discovered when checking his now blank security feeds; the Olympian wouldn’t say what, instead complaining about rude capes and the obstinacy of men.

Tim scowls at the dot pixel pattern of static where the footage of their meeting should be, trying to get his emotions under control. He’s annoyed, because Eros is annoying, but also because Jason managed to not only get into his apartment undetected, but down into the Nest.

Yes, he knows Jason is a lot smarter than he pretends to be, but it’s a dart to his pride because he thought he was being clever.

He’s also worried, since something upset Jason enough to come here in the first place. And he’s hurt because he’d chosen to speak to the winged appetite that compromised him to begin with instead of the one person trying to help him right now.

He waited until I wasn’t around to come here. And Eros won’t say what they talked about.

Mostly to be contrary.

As for the reports coming in from the authorities cleaning up after the Red Hood in the past few days, his take-downs are edging toward the worse side of brutal once again.

Something must be going on. If he’s being affected, though, wouldn’t he not have the interest to keep on with his usual activities?

It’s been an almost physical effort not to approach Jason once again, to plead with him to just accept help for once.

Versions of that plan have never worked for Bruce or Dick—or, well, any Bat, really—so Tim doubts it will work for him.

It’s why he now forces his focus back onto Eros’ case, as futile as it’s been. He knows he’s has more difficult cases, but this one feels like it’s intentionally trying to frustrate him in a way even the Riddler’s games never have.

You’d think people carrying around a bow and arrows would be pretty easy to find, but apparently not.

The Olympian is irritating, even as he answers Tim’s questions. His story hasn’t changed from when he first told it—a trip to Amsterdam that didn’t go as planned, and then a desperate hunt throughout all the cities where Tim tracked thefts.

So far, everything lines up with the investigation Tim was running before and offers no new information.

“Are your diviners like you?” Tim asks, considering the giant map on his computer screen; a red line drags across the Atlantic Ocean, connecting locations on the bordering continents. “I mean, will they not turn up on CCTV or other security devices?”

It would explain why he hasn’t found anything yet.

“Nah, that’s just me,” Eros tells him as he flips through a gossip rag. “I have to make the conscious decision to not show up on camera. It’s a strain on my abilities.” He sighs, putting down the magazine. “I used to be able to go completely invisible in the good old days. Back when people truly believed in us.”

“And now you just, what, mess with imaging frequencies?”

“Pfft—Glorified camouflage.”

“Considering government reliance on facial recognition software, you’re still able to ghost the system. That’s something.”

“Don’t patronize,” Eros grumbles. Then he tilts his head as something occurs to him. “Although, now that you mention it, they can change forms.”

Tim stills. “…What.”

“Yes, to make them less conspicuous. You don’t think I wander around with a bow and arrows all the time, do you? Outside of a Renaissance fair that sort of thing catches the wrong kind of attention—”

“Why the hell didn’t you say this before?” Tim hisses, fingers itching with conflicting impulses to tear at his hair or punch the Olympian in the face. Luckily for the well-being of all parties involved there’s a thick sheet of bulletproof glass between them.

“Uh, one, you didn’t ask. Two, I’m the only one who knows how to change their form, so I didn’t think it was an issue,” Eros replies, ticking options off his fingers.

Tim takes a deep breath through his nose and releases it. “If you want me to solve your case and get your property back, you have to tell me all the information. Even if it seems insignificant.”

“Well I know that now,” Eros huffs; at Tim’s continued unimpressed expression, he rolls his eyes stands up. “Fine! Mea culpa. What do you want to know?”

“What forms can your diviners take?”

“Since they were forged to be divine weapons, they have to conform to their purpose. So they can only be reshaped into other weapons.”

“Any weapon? Knives? Brass knuckles? Mace?”

“In theory?” Eros answers, and then looks curious. “Actually, that’s an interesting concept. I might try those out when I get them back.”

His attention span is possible worse than Bart’s.

“Focus—what form were they in when you were in Amsterdam?” There’s no footage of that, because apparently that café valued customer privacy over possible security issues.

“Well, I’d just finished watching a James Bond marathon, so I was inspired. I made them into these sweet, gold-plated .45 calibre revolvers. Single shot, custom-design, monogrammed.”

And another breath…

“Which you didn’t think to mention.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, was that important?”

“Yes, it was important! How am I supposed to help you find your diviners when you have me looking for a bow and arrows, and they’ve basically become the Golden Gun?!”

“Guns. Plural.” Eros corrects reasonably. “And you’re a detective. It’s what you do. I already said I don’t tell you how to do your job.”

Tim’s heard that love is blind; it turns out love is also an idiot.

With monumental effort, he lets it go; he’ll revisit the shape-changing weapons on his own time. There’s other information he needs. “Back to the theft, though—is there anyone you were with at the time, anyone who might have witnessed what happened?”

“I was with a lot of people that night. And it’s not like those people are going to a pot café to pay attention, if you know what I mean?”

“Not really.”

“Well, that’s not surprising. You don’t strike me as the fun one.”

Tim rolls his eyes at the dig, “What about other Olympians?”

“What about them?”

“Could they have stolen it from you?”

“In theory, but I would have noticed. And then booked it in another direction.”

“You don’t get along with your family?”

“Do you?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“It always is.”

“What about your wife?”

Eros tenses, expression going unnaturally blank. “What?”

“I started doing a bit of research on you,” Tim explains, studying the sudden change in demeanour. “Just the basics. But the most popular story about you has to do with your wife, Psy—”

“Dead,” Eros cuts him off, abrupt.

“But I thought she became an immortal goddess?”

“How many times do I have to explain that the stories don’t get everything right?” Eros sneers. “She’s dead. Point final.”

The message in his voice and eyes is for Tim to drop it; even as his curiosity grows, filing the information into his mental dossier of the Olympian, Tim can recognize a painful topic.

He lets it go. For now.

“So, no one was around? The coffeeshop, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” Eros groans, body language easing out of it’s rigidity once more. He winds his fingers into his hair. “There was a pair of identical twins from Sweden that looked like walking Alps, and by the Styx did I want to climb those.”

“Gross.”

“And then there was the clingy redhead, the hot waiter with the manbun, one total MILF relieving her glory days—I don’t know, okay? There were a lot of people!”

Tim leans back in his chair, carding his fingers together. “What exactly is a god of love doing getting stoned in Amsterdam, anyhow?”

“Hey, I don’t judge your life choices.”

“I’m not judging, I’m just—curious. You’re not human, you can go wherever you want, do whatever you want, without being tracked—can probably influence people to get whatever you want. And you decide to gorge yourself on pot brownies in a glorified basement?”

“You might not understand this, but sometimes it’s nice to go somewhere and forget for a little while,” Eros drawls.

Actually, I get that more than you imagine…

“That’s unexpected,” Tim offers. “Considering who you are, you’d think you’d be happier."

"When has love ever been synonymous with happy?" Eros challenges. “You know that better than most, right?”

“I’m fine. I’m living with it.”

“Not talking about your walking Alp, darlin’. I mean the loss you’ve gone through.” The Olympian is studying him now. “I can see the scars left over from every person you let into your heart and who left you. The boy you loved, your parents, your best friends, your father figure…and it’s not just death I’m sensing. You’ve had things taken from you, things you loved more than anything, just wrenched away.”

“My entire life has burnt down! Again! I don’t call this ‘okay’, Dick.”

“You have to understand—”

“Oh, are you still here?”

“What Earth are we on that you choose him over me?”

Even after all this time, it hurts.

He is uncomfortable at the reminder of blacker times, some fresher in his mind than others. He still has moments when his mind is trapped back in the days after losing Robin, after his father’s death, when he gets stuck in those memories and can barely get out of bed. It’s like sleep paralysis, except he’s awake, and it usually takes Dick dropping by his place unannounced or Alfred phoning him to remind him not to miss upcoming family dinners, to get him out of it again.

To remind him it’s in the past and can’t hurt him anymore.

But now, this latest thing with Jason has more than just the potential to hurt, it’s practically a certainty. In fact, Tim wonders if Jason being cursed to desire him isn’t just the universe continuing its general theme of dumping on him.

“I don’t need a replay, I was there,” Tim says stiffly, and decides he needs a break from Eros for a little while. In about three hours he has to get up and go to work, something he’d rather skip, but the old guard on the Board of Directors is getting up to their usual bullshit and he can’t skip the meetings today.

The rest of the week continues in the same trying fashion. When he isn’t working the case, going through hours of footage from various airports, train stations and other checkpoints for a sign of someone carrying any weapons this time, he’s at WE fighting a bunch of old, fiscal conservatives trying to undercut employee wages. Neither initiative seems to be going anywhere.

On the sixth night since the warehouse fight, Tim is running on very little fuel, to the point his judgement is starting to waver. He’s weighing the pros and cons of checking in on Jason again. He thinks he could probably manage it without him noticing this time. But then, Eros is taking one of his rare (and much appreciated) food-coma naps, which means some valuable quiet time for him to think.

The main computer chooses that point to blink to life with a message from the Tower, and Tim’s stomach leaps with hope that Cassie has something for him.

Except it’s not her that grins down at him.

“Superboy? Where’s Cassie?”

His best friend makes a face. “Ouch, not even a ‘hello’?”

“Sorry, just a bit stressed,” Tim groans. Apparently his exhaustion has brought him past the point of basic etiquette. He needs another Red Bull. “Hi.”

“You sound so enthusiastic,” Connor deadpans. “Anyway, Cassie’s gone to see her Mom in Gateway City. She said she’d be back soon.”

Tim nods. That makes sense, considering Dr. Sandsmark’s knowledge of Ancient Greek artifacts and mythology; he feels stupid for not thinking to contact her before.

“Hey Rob!” Bart shoves his face into the frame. “When are you coming back?”

“Might be a little while. I got side-tracked with a case here that’s, uh, time sensitive.”

“Sucks.”

“While you’re here, can I get some of those bars of yours?”

He thinks Batburger is about to offer him and endorsement deal.

“Are you pulling another case where you’re too lazy to get up and eat? Dude, we talked about that.”

“Also, those bars are gross.”

“Of course they’re gross to you, you’re used to homemade Kansas awesomeness that fills you up if you just look at it.”

“They’re not for me,” Tim interrupts. “It’s for a…actually—” There’s no other way to see it. “He’s my prisoner.”

His friends look impressed.

“Damn, Rob, are you going Dark Side on us?”

“Ooh, do they have cookies?”

“Ha, hah. And even if I was, everyone else has already done it, I’m due. But no, the guy’s a glorified witness, with the metabolism like a Speedster.”

“So, hell on the grocery bills,” Connor says with a nod.

Tim’s comm buzzes, the line from his cellphone; against the backdrop of his mask, Cassie’s number pops up.

“Gimme a sec, incoming call,” he says, and patches into the line. “Hey—”

“Everything he said is true,” Cassie interrupts before he can finish the sentence. “Eros, I mean. People infected by his blood only get worse unless treated—think the Henry VIII, the Manson family, or John Hinckley Jr before they were cured.”

Tim recognizes all of those names. “Wait, but they all lived afterward.”

“They were the ones who got cured. Other’s haven’t been so lucky. Medea killed her own children and set her ex’s new girlfriend on fire.”

The blood rushes from his face. “What?”

“I mean, all those people had severe issues before they got infected, which might be a factor, but if your victim already has trouble controlling their emotions…”

Cassie trails off.

It’s like the bottom has dropped out of his stomach. “How long?”

“Two weeks, give or take. It depends on the mind frame of the victim.”

A very real, visceral fury spreads throughout Tim’s body, anger on Jason’s behalf and at the spoiled godling that’s watching all this unfold like it’s one of his TV dramas.

“…Thanks, Cassie,” he manages to croak. “Call you later.”

He hangs up.

“Are you okay?” Connor asks; on screen, his body becomes more tense in response to Tim’s expression.

“I have to go,” Tim replies, tipping his cowl over his head.

“Need help?” Bart asks. “You know we can be there in less than three hours if you do. Two if we’re really booking.”

Tim considers, then shakes his head. “I—we should be able to handle this.” Bruce is never happy when metas show up without his permission, even when they’re saving the collective asses of the Family. “But I’ll keep you posted. If there is anything, I’ll contact you right away.”

“Good luck,” Connor says, still concerned.

“Thanks,” Tim replies, ending the call.

I think I’m definitely going to need it.

⁂

The sun beats down on him from its zenith, and he can feel his arms burning. The air is hot and humid, carrying with it the taste of the sea he usually associates with the Mediterranean, yet he’s still sweating in his linen tunic.

In his hands—browner than he’s used to, scarred but in a different way than he expects—he carries a wreath of laurel leaves, woven together with fine gold thread. In front of him, a giant mound rises out of the earth, grass and wildflowers covering it, rippling lazily in the wind. At its base, a thick column of aged marble, already falling into disrepair.

He should see about having that fixed before they head for Sardis.

Jason takes a few steps forward, kneeling to place the wreath at the base of the column; despite the heat, a chill moves up his spine as he presses his hand to the earth, clutching a handful of dry soil and bringing it to his lips.

“It is my privilege to stand at the hall of your rest, Honored Forefather,” he murmurs. “And know that I will do your blood proud.”

The words are less flowery than anything the priests and governors might come up with, but the sentiment remains just as genuine.

Glancing to his right, he sees a similar column several yards away, and another man is kneeling there with his own wreath. It takes him a moment before he recognises him.

Tim.

Except—he’s different: his hair is longer, skin darker than Jason can ever remember seeing, because Tim is supposed to be a pasty-faced nerd. He’s also wearing a red tunic and lace up sandals, and his features are much more relaxed than Jason is used to. No dark circles beneath his closed eyes. He mouths words that are lost in the breeze.

Jason’s own gaze falls there for a moment, taking in the flushed colour of his lips. Something at the back of his mind chides him for looking, but it’s lost within a burgeoning warmth in his chest.

He’s lucky to have him here, someone as faithful and intelligent and honest—

Eyes blinking open, Tim notices him watching; his mouth tilts upward in amusement, and Jason’s heart seems to beat faster. The smaller man straightens up, leaving his offering behind him and wanders over, movements as smooth as a cat. And—

No, this isn’t a good idea, he’s supposed to be avoiding him, right? He can’t remember why, but—

“What are you thinking of?” Tim asks softly. “You’re supposed to be making sacrifices to your ancestor’s memory, not staring at your liegeman.” He adopts a severe expression. “It’s distracting me from being appropriately solemn.”

Jason shrugs, fond smile on his own face.

“He was happy, when he lived,” he says, nodding at the column where he knelt before. “And fortunate in finding a faithful companion, and a great poet to sing of his deeds after his death.”

“You say that as if you have neither,” Tim snorts.

“There are no more poets of merit to speak of my deeds. Everything is lost to the logical, pedantic record of history.”

“And there’s the sense of drama I was waiting for,” Tim deadpans. “You could always write the histories yourself.”

“Hah! You would say something like that. Always planning, aren’t you?”

“Well, someone has to.”

Jason rolls his eyes, and gestures with his hand that Tim should follow him. They amble down a grassy footpath, returning to the level ground where their horses wait for them. There are guards spread out around them, close enough to help if something should happen but far enough away, they can’t hear what’s said.

He approaches the massive black Thessalian, absently patting the ox-head brand on its haunch with one hand while his other reaches to detach a large cloth-wrapped package from his saddlebags.

Tim appears curious when Jason hands it to him.

“I made sacrifice at the temple this morning before we rode out and left them with one of my finest sets of armour,” he explains. “They insisted it was too much and that I should take something in return. This called to me.”

Tim opens the bundle, eyebrows raising at the bronze shield that gleams in the sun.

“It was found in the ruins of the great city herself after the battle. It made me think of you.”

“Oh?” Tim watches him from beneath hooded eyes, a delicate colour blooming across the bridge of his nose. “You think of me as a shield?”

“I think of you as my shield,” he corrects seriously. “I will always be a sword. I can’t be anything else, or others would see it as weakness. But you…you protect everything that I am, even from myself. You throw your own needs and wants to the dirt to raise up mine. You weather the anger of men who believe themselves to be greater. For my sake.”

Tim appears struck mute at this, clutching the shield to his body as he stares at Jason with shining eyes. His mouth parts several times, as if he’s trying to figure out what to say, and once again Jason’s gaze falls upon his lips.

Tim shoots a darting glance at the guards near them, and something like frustration passes across his features, mixing with calculation.

And then he’s grinning that sharp grin again, and Jason’s stomach flips pleasantly as it fixes on him. Tim sets the shield to one side with careful reverence and takes a step forward until their faces are within inches of one another.

Jason licks his lips, expectation weighing heavily on him, and waits for Tim to break the silence.

“I think we should run a race.”

Which...was not the response he was expecting. Jason blinks at the non sequitur. “What?”

“In the old style,” the younger man continues, setting the shield on the ground and backing away. He’s reaching for the belt of his tunic, eyes sparking with mischief and something else. “To honour our ancestors, of course.”

“Of course,” Jason agrees, and reaches for him, but Tim dances out of his way.

“Ah, no! You’re entirely to dressed for that.”

He’s jogging backwards now, and Jason laughs, reaching again for him, “Get back here—”

“You’ll have to catch me—”

“Hood!”

Jason gives a full-body jerk, dragged out of his reverie by a voice that is no longer laughing, but tense.

“Red Hood!”

The world returns to him, gritty and smelling like rancid trash and smoke. There are several bodies at his feet and the smell of blood in the air; he hears groaning, so he knows they’re alive. That should be a relief, somehow, except he’s distracted.

There’s someone standing in front of him, the height and build familiar, it could be him, except the eyes are wrong and he’s younger and—

Not him. Nothing like him.

For a beat Jason is irritated when he realises the person in front of him is not Tim, because he was sure he just heard him. On the heel of that annoyance is the realisation that he’s looming over a kid that can’t be more than a few years older than Damian, who’s staring at him with unbridled terror, pressing himself into the walls of the alley.

New kid on the corner. Johns were harassing him, so I taught them a lesson, but then…

Jason’s hand lingers in front of his face, inches away, fingers curved like they intend to brush the boy’s jawline.

Realisation hits at what he must look like, what the teenager must think, and it’s soon followed by disgust because he knows the motivation behind his current position. He pulls back, staring down at his hands in horror.

What the hell did I almost do?

“Hood, look at me,” Tim says, only it’s the Red Robin voice, growled from the shadows, and it sends a shiver up Jason’s spine.

He immediately turns to face him.

The nameless teen take off at a run, but that’s not important; what’s important is that Tim is here, barely three feet away. He moves to close the distance, posture open and soothing, and Jason is already relaxing in response, twitching to reach toward Tim’s outstretched hand.

And…no.

He should not be relaxing. He should not be reaching out or touching Tim in any way because—

Because…

It’s hard to think why, but then he remembers.

Because it’s not him who wants to, it’s the infection. And he might do something worse.

Jason’s entire body seizes up again, and he stumbles backward.

“Hood, it’s okay,” Tim says in a placating whisper. “I’m going to help you. I promise.”

And Jason wants to, he really does. Wants to just go with him, maybe let himself fall against his body in exhaustion, because Tim might be small but he’s strong and could hold him up and—

“Back off!” Jason snaps, both to himself and to Tim, who jerks as if he’s been slapped. The sight helps ground him a bit more. “You are the lastperson I should be around right now.”

“Ja—”

“No!”

He takes off. Doesn’t bother with shooting a line into the air—his hands are shaking too much for that—and just runs. He knows this place better than the other vigilante ever will, knows how to disappear even when being pursued by a Bat.

And right now, he needs to disappear.

Grotty buildings and dark alleys fly by him as he crashes through the backways.

This is better, just one foot in front of the other. The icy air in his lungs is painful, but the good kind—distracting. Waking him from whatever funk he was in.

What the hell was that before? A dream?

But he was awake. And since when are dreams, or even hallucinations, so cohesive? Sequential? He knows it happened like he was living it, though he can’t remember exactly anymore. The details are drifting away like sand grasped too tightly in a fist, but he remembers feelings. Warmth. Safety. Laughter.

And Tim smiling at him; everything else is hazy, but he remembers that detail without difficulty.

Jason’s stomach lurches, torn between something fond and possessive, and the sense of disgust crouching at the back of his mind and spreading through his body the more he thinks about it.

He has to stay away—from Tim, from anyone who looks like him. Just until he can figure out a fix (or hell, even afterward, just to be sure). No, wait, he can’t figure it out. It would involve investigation, chasing down leads, probably running into—

No. Better barricade himself in somewhere. Take himself out of the equation.

Tim will be fine to figure this out on his own—he said he was trying to help, which means he’s aware of what’s going on with Jason. Which, yes, is mortifying, but also a comfort, because he trusts the younger man to figure it out.

He wonders for a moment if that’s because of the growing fascination, and then decides it’s not. Even before, he’s had an inexplicable amount of faith in Tim’s abilities to plan and get results.

It’s why he wanted him to be his Robin.

Why he still wants—

“Damn it!” Jason growls, stopping for a moment to breathe and then to punch the nearest wall in frustration.

The comm in his ear buzzes to life.

“Red Hood?”

Not Tim, but Oracle.

“Tell me you found something,” he orders, trying to get his mounting panic under control.

“Not yet. I’ve got a lead that looks promising, but still waiting on confirmation,” Oracle replies. There’s a pause, and then when she speaks again, it’s without the voice synthesizer. “Tim told me what’s going on.”

Shame hits him. “Of course he did.”

“We want to help you, Jason. This isn’t something you have to go through on your own.”

“Tell me that the next time you get shot up with Olympian blood that makes you fixate on Huntress or Clayface or someone. I just need somewhere to ride this out—”

“I can think of somewhere that would be well-equipped.”

The Cave.

“No.”

“Now isn’t the time for your pride. If you really don’t want to hurt someone—to hurt Tim. Again. Your best bet is to get B’s help.”

The kicker is, Jason knows she’s right. And he’s off his game enough that all of his usual arguments and complaints and resentments just don’t seem to register. All that he can focus on right now is Tim—and wanting to do everything he can to stop obsessing over him.

To stop wanting him, wanting to touch and taste and—

“Damn it,” his says again, but this time it’s whispered, almost defeated.

Bruce is the only one Jason knows that will do anything in his power to stop him from becoming exactly the kind of monster he’s been fighting his whole life. Even if it means throwing him in Arkham until whatever is driving him insane gets fixed.

And even if it doesn’t…

He’ll lock me up and throw away the key to keep me from hurting Tim. And I’d let him.

“He’s enroute to you now,” Barbara says.

“Is the demon brat with him?”

“Yes.”

He remembers the terrified expression on the nameless teenager’s face as he reached out to him.

“Keep him away. I don’t…know what I might do.”

Barbara’s silence is heavy, and Jason feels a wave of disgust with himself rush over him.

“I’ve told B to send Robin to rendezvous with Red Robin,” she says, and it’s Oracle’s voice again. “He’ll be there in five minutes. Try not to bolt.”

It’s the longest five minutes of his life.

⁂⁂⁂

Next Chapter

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kenzieam · 7 years ago

Text

The Return of the Viking Daughter - Chapter 1 (Ivar X OC)

Rating: M - Mature (angst, swearing, violence,, domestic violence, attempted assault, eventual smut)

Genre: Drama, angst

@fuckyeahalexhoghandersen @my-emotional-self @bloodyivar @lupy22 @alex-ivar-minx @heathensisterwives @kduran04 @charliexowrite @angryschnauzer @rachiieee @ivarinleatherpants @ivars-heathen-army @neonxwitch @theheathenqueendickubus @dangerousvikings

This is my first attempt at Ivar fanfiction, please be gentle with your critiques. If the response is generally positive I will post more chapters. :)

I tried to pretend that I wasn't anxious.... alright, terrified to leave my car. I could see activity going on at their house, the usual hubbub and chaos that circled them; a truck with the hood up, two motorcycles visible in the large garage and not for the first time I cursed the fact that, although we lived on the affluent side of town, with large landscaped yards, the Lothbrok home and my childhood home rested on the edges of our respective properties; meaning that we had a constant view of the other’s goings-on. My old home was at the top of a small rise, which afforded some small privacy, but I’d had a front row seat to the Lothbrok brother’s life my whole childhood.

When I had been a small child, they’d been nothing but loud and vaguely frightening figures roaring and running around, playing roughly, mock-fighting, wooden swords cracking against the other. The oldest, Bjorn, from the father’s previous marriage was already a grown man then, calm and steady and tall, presiding over his half-brother’s shenanigans with a benevolent, but iron fist.

Ubbe, the oldest, was always kind and steady, the one to soothe any hurt words or bumps caused by his younger siblings. Sigurd and Hvitserk were hellions, always raging around, but it had been the youngest son, Ivar, that had always intrigued me, and frightened me, the most. Born with a bone disease that left his legs spindly and useless, Ivar nonetheless was a powerful sight. His upper body more than made up for any weakness in his lower, but it was his mind that was truly terrifying. Angry and cunning, an unpredictable thinker with an unsurpassed streak of cruelty he had me going in fear of him even as a child.

We were the same age, Ivar and I, which meant we attended the same private school, the same classes. I did my best to stay away but it wasn’t always possible. Ivar’s parents, Ragnar and Aslaug and my parents were friends, and were always pushing us together in one way or another. We studied together, spent most afternoons after school together, whenever my parents needed to be away I, an only child, was shuttled over there to stay until they returned.

In time I’d grown used to them and their wild ways, even began to join in with their rough-housing. In many ways Ragnar was more of a father to me than my own, teaching me as he taught his own sons how to fight and defend myself. And after awhile, I’d even lost my fear of Ivar, taking his grumpy attitude in stride; we’d even become somewhat friends, meaning I tolerated Ivar and his moods, and he was more open and friendly with me than anyone else, except his brothers.

When Ivar and I were sixteen, my world had fallen apart and I had been dragged away from my home and the men I considered brothers and perhaps more; and now.... eight years later, I was back.

Heaving a sigh, I kicked the car door open and stepped out. Trying not to look too closely down the hill I kicked the door shut then stormed to the front door. It still had not fully hit me, but the closer I got to the house, the more real it began to feel. My father was dead, and, according to his lawyer, he had left me everything, the house, his business, all his money, everything. I hadn’t been here in eight years, not since my mother had dragged me out in the middle of the night, screaming at my father that he would never see us again, not since my mother had found out about my father and Ivar’s mother.

I reached the door and fumbled for the keys. They had been clearly marked but I was having trouble reading them because of the tears clouding my eyes. Not for the first time, not for the first time today, and not for the last time I cursed myself and my stupid pride, the stubbornness that had kept me away from here even after I had become an adult, out from under my bitter mother’s thumb. I had eventually forgiven my father for his sin, or at least no longer let it keep me awake at nights, but I hadn’t been able to spur my obstinate ass into actually stepping away from the life and career I’d made myself and return in person to tell him. Our few phone calls had always been stilted and painfully awkward, the elephant in the room bellowing for attention and stomping it’s massive feet.

Finally I found the correct key and pushed it into the lock, turned; nothing.... what the fuck? I pulled it out and tried again, tried all the keys on the ring before groaning and turning away. I squinted at the offending key and growled, one of the teeth were broken off, it was useless. It was also Saturday, which meant my chances of tracking down my father’s lawyer were slim to none. He turned off his cell phone on weekends, and moved out to the golf course. A number of options ran through my mind, return to the hotel I’d checked out of this morning, try calling the lawyer anyway, maybe finding out his house number so I could pester his wife or maid enough that they sent out the bat signal for him, smash a damn window (it was my house now, dammit), or.... no. I looked back down the hill and sighed, my feet carrying me before my mind was ready.

The Lothbrok’s had always had a spare key for our house when I was a child, and we did for their’s. We’d hardly needed to use it, but it had always been that little bit of extra security, a reassurance. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it now, I’d hoped to avoid this reunion for a bit longer.

Rock music, a mere drone at the top of the hill, became clearer as I neared the Lothbrok’s house. It was coming from the garage, which was no surprise, many weekends had been spent out there, the boys teaching me about engines and mechanics. I veered that way, hoping to find perhaps Ubbe, or Hvitserk, and stopped at the pickup. A pair of jean covered legs stuck out from underneath the jacked-up truck, clad in heavy motorcycle boots, laying on a rolling creeper.

“Hey,” I said tentatively, tapping gently at the nearest boot. A tool clanged underneath the truck, followed by a string of curses. Large, grimy hands appeared, gripping the edge of the truck’s body and the creeper wheel’s squeaked as it rolled out from under the truck. While the legs had been slim, the white t-shirt clad upper body was heavily built and powerful, muscles rippling across the broad chest and, even as my brain clamoured to warn me, my eyes locked with the most unbelievably blue pair I’d ever seen, set in the most devastatingly handsome face, a face I’d spent years trying to forget, a face I’d seen in my dreams every night, even before I’d left. His full lips pulled into a curious mix of surprise and scorn.

“Sera. Never thought we‘d see you again.” Ivar snarled.

Shit.

For a moment I was rendered speechless, in addition to leaving my father in the middle of the night, I had also left the Lothbroks, and the expression on Ivar’s face showed that feelings were still raw. Pushing the rest of the way out from under the truck Ivar sat up, rubbing one thick forearm across his forehead.

“You lost?” He added, throwing me another baleful glare.

“No, I, uh....” Shit. “My key won’t work, I was hoping you guys still had a spare.”

Ivar scoffed, shaking his head, as if what I’d just said was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. He looked away and sucked in his bottom lip for a moment; looking like he was contemplating a fresh insult to lob at me and I took the opportunity to study him. He’d grown into a man since I’d left, his shoulders broadening, body filling out with a mouth-watering expanse of muscle. He wore his hair long, shaved on the sides, pulled into a manbun. His naturally pale skin was tanned and smooth, offsetting his almost supernatural cobalt eyes, eyes that hypnotized me, eyes that saw right through me, eyes that made me shiver, for completely opposite reasons.

Before he had a chance to throw more verbal abuse my way however, a door slammed open at the far side of garage and familiar voices reached my ears. Although I wasn’t any happier to see them, I turned gratefully towards the distraction anyway. Their half-shouted conversations died instantly when they saw me and they stumbled to a halt.

“Holy shit.... Sera?” Ubbe called, glancing over at Hvitserk in shock before turning back to me. At some unspoken signal they both charged me and I was soon squashed between two hard chests. I wasn’t even sure who was hugging me, as the brothers seemed to be playing tug of war with me, pulling me back and forth between them. Hvitserk planted a sloppy kiss on my forehead just before Ubbe pulled me into a headlock, shaking me like a terrier with a rat. Finally I was released and staggered back, grinning despite myself. The older Lothbrok brother’s enthusiastic welcome almost took the sting out of Ivar’s vitriol.

“Are you back?” Hvitserk asked, eyes dancing.

I dug my toe into the concrete, procrastinating. I wasn’t even sure yet myself. I had a home and life started across the country, but standing here amidst all these familiar sights and sounds was giving me serious case of nostalgic homesickness.

A loud thump and clamouring of limbs stole our attention before I could answer. Grabbing a crutch Ivar started to struggle to his feet. I instinctively took a step forwards to help then stopped, remembering Ivar’s fierce independence, even as a child; and surely he’d be no more receptive to my help now, not after his scornful welcome so far. Gaining his feet he shot one more furious glare at me before eyeing both his brothers balefully, as if they were traitors for being friendly to me.

“She just wants the spare key, she didn’t come over to say hi.” He snapped, turning away. Despite myself, I couldn’t help but notice that Ivar only used one crutch now, and seemed to have a bit more sturdiness to his legs, I wondering if it was simply pure rage driving him on right now, or something more. Without glancing back at us again, he slammed the door shut behind him. Ubbe turned back to me with a mild expression, apparently Ivar’s temper had remained as fiery as ever throughout my absence.

“You need the key?”

I blushed, dropped my head. “Yeah, I uh.... I wasn’t sure if I’d have the guts to come by and say hey, but I guess the gods had other plans.”

Hvitserk grabbed me then, pulled me into another headlock and ruffled my hair gruffly. “Not going to pretend we didn’t miss you kid, but... it was kind of a shit situation all around.”

I nodded, wiping unexpected tears away as he released me. “I’m sorry about Aslaug, she.... she was always good to me.”

The brothers nodded soberly. Three years previous, Aslaug had succumbed to late stage breast cancer, and while I’d been disgusted at my mother’s joy at the news, I had made excuse after excuse until the need to offer my condolences had faded.

Ubbe nodded while Hvitserk looked away briefly, then Ubbe perked up. “Ragnar will be thrilled to see you.... you should come by for supper tonight.”

I opened my mouth, prepared to decline but both brothers turned to me with irresistible puppy dog eyes and I felt my resolve crumbling. I’d sincerely hoped to duck in and back out of my father’s house without attracting any Lothbrok’s attention, but that was all out the window now. I had to stop hiding, had to stop making excuses. The brothers had done nothing wrong, they’d been hurt by their mother’s infidelity as much as me by my father’s, and, in all honesty, the homesickness and affection for the Lothbroks I’d thought I’d successfully buried over the years had come roaring back with a vengeance. There was only one snag.

“Um... how is Sigurd?” I mumbled, not really wanting to know. In the months leading up to my mother’s midnight exit, she’d suspected something was amiss and my parent’s relationship had become strained, the atmosphere at home in turns suffocating and frightening. I’d escaped to the Lothbroks when I could, and began to delve into more and more bad behaviour. Part of that bad behaviour had been a romantic relationship with the second youngest Lothbrok, Sigurd. His chronic chip on his shoulder and rebellious streak were just the outlet I thought I’d needed and I’d put up with a lot of shit that I wouldn’t dream of tolerating now. Of all the brothers, Sigurd was the least likeable, rude just for the sake of it, and he hated his younger brother Ivar with a passion. Time and distance had helped me realize that even though Sigurd and I had been fairly hot and heavy for awhile, his attraction to me had been more about some twisted competition with Ivar, more about rubbing me in Ivar’s face. I’d even given the asshole my virginity, a sweaty, noisy, squirming affair in the back of one of Ragnar’s many cars; and to be honest, if I never saw this brother again, I’d be okay with it.

Ubbe and Hvitserk traded a glance and it was Ubbe who answered me. “He’ll probably be here too, please don’t let that stop you, we’d really like to catch up. He has a fiancé now, maybe he’ll leave you alone.”

I snorted, not likely. “Okay,” I relented.

Hvitserk surprised me with a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“Great!” Ubbe enthused, “come by around 5:00.”

“Can I bring anything?”

“Just yourself, still hate eggplant?”

“Hell yes.”

“Alright, I’ll go get the key.” Ubbe favoured me with a pat on the cheek before turning and disappearing into the house. Nervously, I met Hvitserk’s gaze, was relieved to see him smiling down at me.

“Hvitserk..... I’m sorry-”

He cut me off with a wave of his hand. “We’ll talk about it later. Believe me, between Ivar and Sigurd, you’ll be bombarded enough, tell me about yourself instead.”

Where to begin? Thankfully my answer was cut off by Ubbe returning, holding out a familiar key ring. Gratefully I took it and turned away before I needed to reply, my heart racing.

#ivar #ivar x oc #ivar the boneless smut #ivar fanfiction #ivar x sera #modern ivar #vikings

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dazzlingfantasiesblogs · 7 years ago

Text

Many Languages P3

Bucky x Reader

Hello my lovies! Here is the third part. <3

XOXO Dazz

Gif is not mine.

It had been a few hours, Bucky came out of his room half expecting to see you on the couch. “Nat.. do you know where y/n is?” Nat glared at Bucky, thinking he was the reason she was crying in her room. The only person Y/N told everything too was Nat and Wanda. Bucky noticed this while in the sparring room and even on the jet ride to the mission. They laughed and talked together like they had known each other forever. Nat decided to ignore the question, shrugging a bit. Bucky nodded to her and headed into the training room, he seen Steve lifting weights, making it look obviously easy. “Hey Bucky you ok?!” Steve seen his life long friend sauntering in. “Yeah why?” Bucky looked at him confused. “You stormed out earlier.” Steve wiped the sweat from his forehead with a white towel. “Y/N was wrestling for her book, her… umm….. chest was in my face… and…” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. A light blush went across his cheeks. “Oh… OH… Well… I think you two should kinda take it easy, you both are fragile..” Bucky took slight offence to that. “IF anything that is why we should be friends..” He mumbled.

A day had passed and Bucky had not seen you. He was unsure if he should check your room or not. He walked down to the pool and seen you doing laps. A smile came across his face when he seen you. He finally felt calmness seep into his joints. your beautiful body trailing up and down the pool. Sitting in one of the chairs, he seen you go back and forth. You came up for a breath, seeing Bucky smiling at you. Your heart pinged. “Bucky..” You nodded to him, you swam to the stairs and got out of the pool. “The pool is all yours..” whispering to him. Steve appeared and you took a step away from Bucky. Bucky went to grab your hand “I gotta go.. I think Tony needs me..” you started to sprint away. The ex-winter soldier looked at you, you seemed almost.. scared of him. “Hey Buck ready to train?” Steve asked getting ready to fight in the water. It created better cardio and endurance for fighting. “Umm.. I am going to go check on Y/N…” Buck started to walk after you “She has a meeting with Tony.” Sighing he nodded and hopped into the pool.

Two days had passed. Anytime Bucky even tried to talk to you, you made and excuse and ran. You did not want to disrespect the captains wishes. Your mind was already twisted and you could not afford to lose the small group of people you did have around you. “Y/N we got a mission.” You nodded to Steve, setting down your beer. You followed him into the briefing room. “This mission will be Captain, Y/N and Bucky.” “Tony.. I don’t think Bucky is..” Tony held his hand up to silence the Captain. “Y/N, we need you to go undercover. Since you the one person Hydra has not seen in depth.” You nodded. Bucky was stairing at you. Was those days you hung out together just a dream, your mood changed so drastically. He played those days over and over in his head and could not figure out what he did wrong beside walk out. “If Hydra finds out the truth they will kill her, or worse.. test on her..” Bucky looked at Tony with pleading eyes. “SHIELD has already made the decision..” Tony looked at you nodding slightly. “I am fine.. I will be fine.”

The jet roared to life. You hugged and kissed Natalie, Wanda, Sam, Clint and then Tony goodbye. Climbing up the steps, you sat in the back and took out a book right away to make it seem like you where busy. “Buck, can you help me navigate?” Steve spoke as they got on the jet. “You always fly solo..” Bucky whispered looking back to you. “I know, but you speak better Russian than me..” Nodding he followed Steve reluctantly. He couldn’t help but notice the small deep breath you took in as they moved to the cockpit.

Upon landing you had gotten ready in normal sevillian clothing. You where staying in a huge hotel that was holding a gala that evening. Which meant one thing.. a fancy dress. You opened your suitcase and seen a ruby red dress in it. “Tony..” You smiled a bit thinking about him slipping it in your luggage. You took a shower, getting out you wrapped your body in a towel. Sitting in front of the mirror you progressed with your make-up and hair. Slipping on the dress, you put on your heels to match.

Looking at yourself in the mirror you looked like a princess. You smiled a bit, you had not seen yourself looking so well dressed in awhile. Walking into the main room the Captain sat at the table. You looked at him and grabbed your gun, putting them in your leg holster. He looked up from the shield he was cleaning. He took a deep breath, a red tint came over his cheek. “Geez… your gorgeous…” He stood up looking you up and down. You took a deep breath and nodded to him. He leaned done and hugged you. “I am sorry.” HE whispered in your ear. “I am just following orders.” You nodded to him. Steve sighed a bit, going to grab your arm. You moved in time and grabbed the necklace that a video camera in it. As you tried to clip the necklace behind your neck you felt hands against yours. You looked up behind you to see Bucky clasping your necklace. HE looked so handsome. His hair was in a manbun, his tux prim and proper, fitting him like a glove. He looked down at you, groaning slightly. He wanted to take you right then and there. He usually would be not so vulgar, yet you where doing something to him. He looked over your curves. The dress synched at you waist and tight against your ass. The slit showing off your lower legs. Enough cleavage to make any man drool over you. He then looked at your face. You where truly the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. From the time he caught you raiding the fridge to now. You whispered “Thank you..” then realized the Captain was staring at you. You took a step back and grabbed your glasses, your hand shaking slightly. “Well.. Captain.. Bucky.. I will see you two down there..” Grabbing the invention on the table, you slipped out of the awkward environment. If anything, killing bad guys would be a damn relief at this point. Taking the elevator down you hurd a noise from the earrings you wore. “Can you hear me?” Steven spoke on the other end. “Yes.” You answered simply before making your way to the gala. Handing your invitation into the security guard, he looked you up and down and smiled slightly at you. You walked in and seen so many people dressed nicely. The smell of food and mixed perfumes filled your nostrils. You defiantly where out of your element here. Taking a tall glass of champaign you put it to your lips. Taking a sip, you looked around for your target. Not seeing him yet you decided to have a seat. An arm wrapped around your waist and it took everything you had not to burst the person into outer space. It was a handsome looking gentleman. He was tall, dark hair and dazzling smile. “I have not seen you here before.” He flashed his SHEILD badge slightly and you nodded. “Well, I thought I would make an appearance.” Shaking his hand he kept your hand in his. “Care to dance?” You took a deep breath nodding. Bucky could tell you where uncomfortable in the audio, he hated you where in this situation. “Y/N listen to me. That is one of the Shield members from the UK. They wanted to lend a helping hand since they are going after another person than we are.” Steve sounded calm and that raideted through you. Steve would never put you in a bad situation. “I don’t like that guy pulling her on the dance floor..” Bucky mumbled leaning against the wall. He watched the screen as you twirled and danced. “You are lovely” The man spoke sweetly to you. “Thank you sir.” Groaning Bucky started to pace at the conversation. “Maybe after this we can go out on a date, if your single that is.” Bucky stoped. Cringing at the thought. Why was this bothering him so much. He just met you and he felt he had a claim on you. “Thanks for the offer, but.. I am not ready to date.. kinda care for someone.” Bucky hurd this and felt his heart sink. “He is a lucky man.” “Haha.. or maybe I am the lucky one. I take his nightmares away and he keeps me sane.. all in a short amount of time.” You vented slight, you knew you probabl shouldn’t but for some reason it felt so good to get these feelings out. “Enemy 1’o clock.” Shit, you forgot Steve and most likely Bucky hurd your ever word. You made slight contact with the man whom you read about in the journal you translated. This guy had killed more than his fair share of innocents. The agent turned you around to get a better look at the man who left a bad taste in your mouth at just the site of him. “I need to get in position. I will see you on the field again I am sure.” At that time Bucky made his way down to the Gala, ignoring Steves pleas. As you started to walk back to the bar, another man grabbed you by the waist smirking at you. You could smell the alchol wafting off of him. He either drank a lot in a little time of had been nursing a flask all day. You tried to pull away but the bad held on to you tighter. Grinning slightly he whispered in your ear. “I bet you would want to get out of here… have some fun?” This mans confidence was through the fuckng roof you thought. Trying to pull away one more time without usuing your shield. He only held on tighter. Images of your past flashed through your head. From afar, Bucky seen the slight terror in your eyes. “Somethings wrong..” Steve said outloud on the ear buds. Bucky appeared next to your, grabbing the mans hand tightly in his grip. “Get your fucking dirty hands off this girl.” His voice was dark, venemoyus. “why she seems like she like a little struggle.” Your breath left your lungs. Those words triggered a lot more images. Bucky quickly wrapped his metal arm around you waist. He wore a glove to conceal it in public. “You lucky I do not rip your damn throat out. Get away from my girl!” The man cowered back a bit. Turning to leave Bucky pulled you even closer so you where flush to his body. “Fucking vultures…” He whispered. Bucky seen the small fear in your eyes. Leaning down he kissed your forehead . “I have no clue why you have been distant, but I will keep you safe… not that you need it. But demons arise at the worst of times.” You smiled up at Byucky and he held you even tighter. He slowly glided you around the dance floor. Your face laying against his chest. This was suppose to be a mssion, but you could ignore that for right now rght? Wrong. “Y/N.. go make conversation with the enemy. So we can wrap this up. NOW!” Steves voice made you squint. Bucky seeng the obvious torment. You glanced and him and mouthed “Thank you.”. He nodded and let you go. His hand not wanting to leave your waist.

“Well hello красивая” Beautiful. The man who you where after sat next to you, smirking. Internally you vomited at least three times before answering. “Привет красавчик” Hello handsome. Your words making you naucious. “You speak Russian?” You nodded to him with a smile. He must of liked this because he sat closer. He continued to tell you whom he was and his rank. His ego getting the better of him as he told you about his way of handling people. Bucky had went back to Steve, translating everything for him. You felt the man slide his hand to your thigh. Fake coughing you apologized. Bucky watched as the man tried to slide his hand up more. “We need to intervene now!” Bucky yelled to Steve. “She can handle herself.” The captain was confident in you. He seen you do this a few times. He knew some of your past, from a childhood that was questionable to the relationship that caused you to grimace with other men. However he knew you would fight for any mission. “давайте выйдем отсюда сексуально.” Lets get outta here sexy. You knees went weak, and not for a good reason. This man made you want to throw up every organ in your body. You had done this before, but not to the point where a man was all over you. Following his lead, you hoped to someone above, Loki or anyone that someone would intervene. Soon you felt your back pressed against the wall in the alley way. He started to kiss your neck, his hands sliding up your thighs. You could not take any more. You went to disperse a shield and nothing. You tried again and nothing. The champaign.. you thought to yourself. You went to throw a punch and he caught it. Great.. another fucking super solider. “By the way.. your Captain America and Winter Solider are in for a treat..”

By this time, your audio and video camera has been turned off. There was a signal blocker some where that was turned on. Steve and Bucky ran around the gala trying to find you. The music was loud and people seem to be completely oblivious that they were in the same room as a mass murderer. “FUCK!” Bucky yelled . He was loosing his temper quick. He was already slightly in panic at the hundreds of people in a smaller space. Bucky felt something sharp sink into his neck, the pain causing him to scream out, a liquid being passed through the vein in his neck. He looked over to see a passed out Steve being dragged. Soon there was nothing but black.

You woke up, to a hand on your cheek. You tried to pull your hands out of a tight vice. Looking up you seen you where in handcuffs. Looking around in the brick room, it was dank and smelled of mildew. You had too either be in a basement, or a cleaning room. “Hello Beautiful.. ready to have some fun?” the mans word slithered out of his mouth. “Leave her alone!” you looked over too see Bucky tied up as well. He was staring at the enemy. “My name is Nikail.” He whispered in your ear. “So you can scream it out loud to all of these people..” the smirk on his face caused you feel queasy. “Fuck I am going to vomit..” You murmured. You looked over to see the Captain knocked out, hunched over in and awkward position. “I have some words for the winter soldier.” “Ex winter solder!” You yelled at the man. “Not once I whisper a few words..” You seen a small pocket book in the mans hands. He started to speak and you seen Bucky struggling. “NO!” You screamed. Trying to disperse a shield and you got nothing. “I would not try to use your power.. you will drain yourself..” You ignored him. “Y/N… please do not…. Hate me.. after this.. You are wonderful… and..” Bucky yelled in pain. He was worried you would hate him? How could you. He had been nothing but kind. You could not take in anymore. “ ДОСТАТОЧНО” ENOUGH!. You yelled out. “Let me guess you want me to take you instead of him.. well guess what.. I got all three of you..” you fidgeted your hands and gave one last try to your shield. You felt the spark and smirked to yourself. You soon burst your handcuffs off. The metal flying every which way causing it to clank on the brick wall. “WHAT?!” Nikail looked over at you, as he started to charge torwards where you stood. “Guess you thought I weighed less, you gave me the wrong dosage or something..” you looked to Bucky who nodded to you he was still him, he gave you a small smile. You grabbed the man by the throat, choking him with you shield. The agents in the room lunged at you, wanting to protect the person you wanted to kill. Knocking them out one by one, you grabbed your gun from you leg holster. Pointing to Nikail. “Please.. no..” Smirking you dropped him on the cold cement floor. Using your shield you wrapped it around his arms, snapping both of them. You went behind him, knocking him out. Running to Bucky you undid his ties. “Grab him, I will get Steve.” He nodded as you raised Steve in your shield. Your body was weighing in on the situation at hand, you just needed to get to the jet. Running down the hall randomly you seen a door. Opening it, you seen the outside. Looking behind you Bucky not too far behind. Calling Tony over the com, he quickly answered. “Get a jet here now! I am running back to the hotel and we will be on the roof in ten minutes.” Your voice was slightly frantic. The feeling of your shield was burning your skin, this only happened when you over used your powers and was extremely exhausted to the point of collapsing. At this point you were both. Steve was not light by any means and not to mention being drugged. Running into the hotel, you set Steve down, seeing he was coming to his senses. He was groggy and slightly stiff. The desk hospitality was looking at you funny. After all this was a five star hotel that Tony had booked. Nothing but expensive ball gowns and trophy wives. Looking around at the couples you sighed. Steve must have noticed as well at all the people staring at your disheveled body.. He knew what you where thinking. This was not the first time you needed to make an distraction. Bucky was standing outside looking at you two while he held Nikail, making it look like he was just extremely waisted. Steve nodded slightly, it felt like time was passing slow. He pushed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. Gasping against his mouth you kissed back, peaking around seeing people look away. Bucky looked in shock at the two of you, venom coursing through his body. He realized it was a distraction.. but really Steve?. He thought to himself. Your captain picked you up nodding to Bucky as he turned you around. Bucky walked in calmly as everyone started to look at you two again. Steve pressed his lips against yours again. You let out a fake moan, as Bucky quickly made it to the elevator. Once you all made it in and shut Steve stopped. “Sorry..” he mumbled, a red tint in his cheeks. Your body was all over the place. After being kicked around and now kissed like your lips was the last think Steve would ever feel you where near deathly tired. Getting to the room you gathered everything quickly. Leaving no trace of anything and checking all your belongings for trackers that could have been placed.

Making it to the jet, you climbed aboard tripping on the first step, Bucky quickly grabbed your arm catching you. His hand slid on your waist as he climbed the stairs. He sat you down on a chair and quickly put Nikail in the prisoner chair. So Tony calls it. It had shackles attached and a neck chain to stop anyone from moving. Steve got on and nodded to Sam who happened to pick up everyone. Not being able to take any more, you fell asleep, forgetting to even buckle up. Bucky turned to talk to you and seen you passed out. He knelt down in front of you, grabbing your buckle, fastening it and slightly tightening it. He sat next to you, doing the same. He looked around the beige and white interior of the jet, noticing it was the same colors as the tower. His anger had gone down quite a bit, but seeing someone elses lips on yours was more irritating then he would have thought. He looked over your body, you had a few cuts, and bruises. Nothing to much. His eyes skimmed over your arms. They looked like they had been burned slightly. He flipped you hands over and seen that it was worse. Your skin was red, irritated with small bumps. “Steve..” He mumbled. Steve stood up from the cockpit and walked over. Bucky simply pointed to your arms. Noticing it, he sighed and frowned. He knew about this, how your own powers would burn you if you used it too much. He nodded to Bucky, walking in the back, stumbling slightly as the jet took off. Coming back with burn ointment and gauze. Steve sat on his knees, getting the ointment ready. He slid on gloves, barly fitting his huge hands. Sliding a bit of the white ointment on his sheathed fingers, he rubbed the ointment on her burns. Bucky seen your ace contort in pain as you slept. Then his eyes trailed down to see Steve wrapping your forearms in gauae and then medical tape to hold it in place. “Twenty minutes and we will be home.” Sam spoke, looking back. He seen Bucky watching the Captain, every move he made calculated. Steve stood up to put the extra clippings of the gauze in the trash and then the kit in the back. Bucky leaned over kissing your cheek, the only person noticing was Sam. “Sleep well doll..” Buck smiled at your sleeping form.

Tags: @buckgasms

#bucky #james bucky barnes #marvel #captain america #natasha romanoff #clint barton #sam wilson #tony stark #winter soldier

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