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semischarmed · 4 years

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Detour

“Really Scott,” you say, as you run your fingers through your hair. “I don’t look familiar to you at all?” You take a mental picture of your high school tormentor’s face. Damn. ‘You’ve only gotten hotter these past few years haven’t you?’

“Nah man, sorry” He states as he moves to close the door to his apartment. You give a slight rub to a small gold medallion and his body starts moving on it’s own. You stare at him with a cruel smile as he tries to wrestle control back of his body. Your face strains but you are able to force him to let you into his place. Scott, evidently, was smarter than he looks as you notice him take a mental note of your struggle and the medallion. You’re gonna have to be careful around him.

You have to admit, this is a lot tougher than you initially expected. Much like his body, man has a will of steel, and even with this necklace’s little power boost, you can only barely contain him. But you have the power of raw emotion coursing through you. Envy. Lust. Unlike Scottie over here, lady luck has not been kind to the past few years past high school. That all changed when you came across this medallion. A strange, mystical, wonderful medallion with strange, mystical, wonderful powers. As soon it came into your possession, you instantly knew the first person who would have the privilege of witnessing its power firsthand. Scott reclaimed a bit of power over himself.

“What the fuck dude! You got the wrong guy! I really don’t know who you are!” You have to hold back a bit of your hurt. All those years of agony and fear, and it doesn’t even register a blip to him. ‘Fuck it, worth it for what I’m about to get.’ With another rub of the medallion you force him to freeze.

As you study his frame, still and glistening with a nervous sweat, you are overcome with a wave of lust- you can’t wait to possess the fuck out of this man. He’s only gotten bigger, beefier since the last time you’ve seen him. You are cut from your trance as you hear a soft “zzzz” sound.

His phone buzzes again and, rubbing your medallion, you force him to pull it out and unlock it for you. “Who is this?” You ask, as you take a closer look at the string of texts. “Almost back!” “Hey u wanna get some pizza tonight?” “Dude I gotta tell you about Sophie at the weights today.“

“I-It’s Alex, he’s my friend. He’s my best friend. We’re roommates. Also he’s coming back soon, so you should probably go. This-whatever the fuck this is man, I won’t tell anyone I promise. Just go” he states nervously. Try as you might, you can’t read if he’d genuinely let you go. Knowing the Scott you knew in high school, he’d probably beat you to a pulp as soon as you released your hold on him. Whatever. Not leaving anyway. You stare at more pictures of his friend from Scott’s social media. Fit, cute- hot even, easy on the eyes. Ok then, maybe a little detour is in order.

“I’m gonna give you a choice.” You state plainly, as you set his phone on the table. “And I know you remember who I am, so you can stop the act. You? Or Alex? Who’s it gonna be?” He probably thinks you’re gonna kill him. Not even close. If anything, he’s gonna be getting a new lif-

“Alex, Alex! Please dude, just leave me alone!” He says without hesitation. Damn. Cold-blooded. You smile with menacing compliance.

“Alex it is.”

----

Minutes later, a sweaty Alex unlocks the door to his apartment, eager to get quick shower in and order some dinner. “Oh, uh, I didn’t realize we’d have guests”.

Alex smiles warmly at you and greets you, “Hey, I’m Alex, Scott’s roommate. Good to meet you!” He looks at his hand. “Sorry, I just got back from the gym, so I’d shake your hand, b-” “So you’re Alex! good to meet you too!” you cut him off by extending your hand, which he awkwardly shakes out of formality. You use this to take a sneak preview of your future vessel’s hands. Calloused, but soft. Thin, damp. Vascular. Good.

“Yeah, I’m an old friend of Scott’s. From high school,” you lie. “He said he had to grab something from the store, so he’ll probably be back in a bit.”

“Aww well, I’m sorry he’s been keeping you waiting” Alex gives a warm smile. “He’s usually pretty good at this kind of stuff, so I’m sure he had a good reason. Do you want like a water or something?”

He starts to head to the kitchen. You stifle a moan as you quickly stick your hand in your pants and smear his gym sweat all over your dick. Sneak preview.

As he fashions himself a glass of water and glances back as you quickly take your hands out your pants before he notices. “Oh no, no! I’m alright! Thank you for the offer though!” you beam back. Close call.

‘Alex is such a nice, stand up guy’ You wonder to yourself, ‘why is he friends with that piece of shit’

“I’ve known Scott since college, so a little less than you, haha” he adds, as if hearing your mental conversation. “He always keeps it real and he’s even been helping me get toned”. He smiles and does a small bicep flex to demonstrate -hot- before he ravenously gulps down the entire glass of water and sets it down.

‘Fuck yeah, I can’t wait to be the one going down that tube’ you think, as you bite your lip. Alex starts to head your way. You then pick up on his scent, he smells clean- probably his cologne or deodorant. Mountains. Mint. Fresh rain. He’s like a breath of fresh air. Then the undercurrent of his scent hits. Raw, primal, alpha as fuck. You’re a bit surprised. Such a kind, clean cut guy and he apparently naturally smells like a filthy, raunchy, putrid motherfucker. You can hardly control yourself as you try to imagine where it’s coming from. Pits, ass, feet, ball sweat, all of the above?- wherever the fuck it’s coming from, it’s intoxicating. You smile in the joy that a little piece of you, even if it was just the dick that you rubbed his hand sweat all over, now smells like a diluted Alex. You struggle as you adjust your growing hard on in proximity to the pheromone bomb that is Alex.

Suddenly, Alex’s phone buzzes. You steal a glance at the sender. It’s Scott.

“Hey man, come to my room, now. We need to fucking talk. I have no idea who he is. Make sure he stays where he is. He doesn’t know I’m here .” Alex stares at his phone, a little perplexed, while you continue to stare at this fine, fine piece of ass in front of you. He gives a quick glance your way, to which you respond with a smile.

“Hey, uh, make yourself at home, ok? Im sure Scott’s coming back soon. I, uh, I gotta take care of something real quick with our, um, other roommate.” There’s only two bedrooms and he’s a horrible liar, but you still find it a little endearing. “Anyway, it was nice to meet you, maybe we can hang out sometime. Any friend of Scott is a friend of mine!“ he tells you kindly as you swoon. ‘Oh Alex we’re about to be much, much closer than friends. Closer than you can possibly imagine’.

“Hey dude, uh, so Scott’s friend is waiting for you in the living room. Also whatever this is, can it wait? I kinda have to showe-“ Alex cuts himself off as he sees Scott slumped over, tied up to his desk chair with his own dirty clothes in a neat little bow. “What the fuck!?! Scott! are you ok?” Alex rushes over to help his friend.

“So, I gotta say, Scott, you made a great choice sacrificing him to save yourself. Alex is definitely a catch.” You say from the doorway. Alex quickly looks your way in horror as his best friend breaks free from his fake restraints and pulls him into an embrace.

Alex tries to squirm free from Scott’s grip, as you make Scott say the truth to his friend. “He made me choose, between you and me. I chose you.”

“T-This is a joke, right? Scott?” Scott starts to force him into his desk chair. “Cmon man!” Alex pleads, as an emotionless Scott ties him to the desk chair.

“Some best friend” you chuckle, as you stroke Scott’s cheek and wipe away a stray tear -you can feel his revulsion internally- “he sold you out without a second thought”. You start to undress his lower half, starting with his gym shoes. Fuck it was potent. “Don’t worry, I’ll never do that to us.” You peel away his sweat soaked socks and take another whiff. Alex sits in confusion, probably speechless at what had just transpired.

“Let’s make a deal” you say with a chuckle. “I’ll show you a taste of me if you show me a taste of you.” Without waiting for a response, you start by kneeling down sucking on his scummy toes. Sour. Just how you like it. He’s still squirming in his bonds a little. “Step on me,” you say, as you smash your face to his sweaty feet over and over again, simulating him stepping on you. You catch a little movement in his crotch area. ‘Is he enjoying this?’ you ask, as you continue up Alex’s legs. You look back to make sure Scott is still in your control. He stands frozen, emotionless, but with a deep hatred in his eyes, twitching occasionally in his attempt to break free. You make him face Alex and force him to lift the corner of his tank top to give Alex a little tease, while you continue with your little treasure hunt.

You then peel away his compression shorts to reveal your prize. A concentrated bloom of Alex’s pheromones hit you. Ecstasy. You almost pass out on the spot. ‘Holy shit’. You can't control yourself as bury your head and greedily rub your face in his sweaty crotch. Alex is eerily quiet.

Rubbing the medallion, you issue your next command. You’re gonna need to divert a little magic to making this work, so you release some control of Scott as emotion and shouting return to him. It takes a minute or two but you’re able to get your bodies properly primed fro the next stage. You notice Alex shiver from a slight tingle in his body, while Scott continues his barrage of insults your way. “Shut up,” you command. His lips quiver and then shut. “Scottie, come tell Alex what his best friend is gonna do to him.”

Alex again looks at Scott with a pleading face as a twitching, emotionless Scott continues: “Alex, I’m gonna stuff you full of himm- full of my Ma,” you wince. Strong and stubborn as ever, you can’t even get him to call you master. “Man you’re gonna love it. I sold you out to save myself. Didn’t even have to think about it. Just like that.” You’re getting a little better at controlling his movements. “Now I’m gonna be the one to make sure I put all of him inside you” Scott continues, “I-I can’t wait to see him wear you like a s-suit, parading you around, s-swimming in your skin and no one will ever know. I can’t wait to see the new you, w-with a little fag pilot tucked safe inside, pulling on your strings, speaking for you, thinking for you, loving for you” Scott finishes with an unsettling, wide grin that you force him into.

Emotion and control rush back to Scott’s face. “Alex...” he states in an apologetic tone, but Alex doesn’t even look him in eye. Again, off the corner of your eye, you can’t help but notice a ghost of a smile on his face before it returns to its sullen look.

“Ok, ok, enough you two. Let’s go put on a good show for our best friend Scottie”.

-End Part 1-

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dadsbongos · 3 years

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good heart

Movie/Game/Show: The Devil All the Time Dynamic: Arvin Russell/Reader Warnings: use of the daddy word but it’s purely platonic, sacrilege, post-canon, proofread but i am illiterate, fem pronouns Summary: Arvin knows he wants more, but he won’t let himself run for it. ~~~

Arvin slides onto the nearest stool he can find at the counter without looking around too much, peeling off his hat and holding it tight to the shiny surface with both fists. He keeps his head low and waits for a waitress to approach him.

“You want anything or you just getting out of the sun?” a voice teases from behind the counter.

His head lifts and he offers a fracture of a polite smile and nod, “Just a black coffee, ma’am. Please.”

“‘Ma’am’” you repeat as you write down the order, “You’re awful formal, don’t you think?”

“Sorry, ma’am.”

“Oh, no, you don’t gotta apologize for anything,” you awkwardly offer a smile, “I just tease sometimes, sorry ‘bout that.”

“Now, how many times have I told you to stop that,” an older man chides from the kitchen, “Bring that poor boy’s order over and stop messin’ with people.”

“Sorry, daddy,” you mutter, turning to hand over the ticket with Arvin’s measly order.

The man takes the paper and squints to read it, shaking his head before turning to the brunette boy at the counter, “Sorry ‘bout her. Gets bored around here.”

Arvin finally glances around the whole room and sees that the diner is empty of customers except for him.

He shakes his head and gives a slight grin, “Don’t worry none, sir. Just a rough few days, is all - nothin’ wrong with your daughter havin’ fun.”

He’s waved off by the older man and you soon return to Arvin’s front with a bounce in your step at his words, “Thanks for backin’ me up, stranger.”

“Just the truth,” Arvin murmurs, looking around the barren diner once again, “Slow day, huh?”

He internally cringes at the awkward starter but resolves to let it slide when you light up at the branch.

“Yeah, it’s Sunday service hours, ya know. Don’t get too many people willing to skip a meetin’ with the Lord for scrambled eggs and coffee.”

Lenora and Emma would be at service by now. Lenora would be praying with her neighbors and family by now. She loved services.

A bell dings before Arvin can claw out a subpar response and you’re making a trip to the little window between the kitchen and sitting area before carrying back a breakfast of toast, eggs, and coffee.

“Oh, I can’t- “

“On the house,” you wink, pushing the plate towards Arvin, “Don’t gotta eat it if you don’t want, but Daddy likes makin’ the effort to feed people,” leaning over and whispering so your father can’t hear, you let him in on a secret, “He looks mean but he’s got a real soft spot for people like you.”

He quirks a brow, picking up a fork to poke at his eggs, “Strays?”

You roll your eyes at the suggestion, “People who look like they need a good meal. He’s old but he reads people real well. I can take it back, if you don’t want it.”

“No!” he recoils and his face sours at the volume of his own voice, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you shrug, “Gotten a lot worse from customers for a lot less.”

Arvin finishes off a bite of toast before asking, “People yell at you often?”

Again, you merely shrug, “Polite young men like you ain’t exactly common around here.”

“Who could do that? You seem mighty fine,” Arvin shakes his head, “I don’t know you real well, ma’am, but somethin’ ‘bout that don’t rub me the right way.”

“Not much I can do ‘bout it. Daddy kicks ‘em out fast as he can but it ain’t like he’s always listenin’ out for people who don’t like his daughter.”

“What if I could get ‘em out?”

“What? You plan on sittin’ in a slow diner just waitin’ for people to get rough with little ol’ me?”

“Sad as it may sound, ma’am, I don’t got a lot goin’ on. ‘Sides,” Arvin shovels up more eggs on his fork, “your daddy ain’t a bad cook.”

You weren’t actually expecting Arvin to come back the next day. Or the one after that. Or the one after that. Or even the week later. But he did, just like he said he would - he came back and made sure nobody gave you a hard time. He wasn’t the tallest or the most muscular, but nobody could deny the intimidation Arvin could give out. He seemed like he’d seen more than most men his age. Seemed like he’d done a lot more than a lot of men his age. After a day you asked his name, he panicked and said Eugene just in case either of you knew of the sins living in Arvin Russell.

After a mere week of him coming around, your father offered him a job at the diner. He’d take the floor while you had the counter, and if the floor wasn’t busy he’d be on call for anything else needed. After a month, you asked where he was staying and found out he had nowhere to really go and he felt guilt claw at his chest that night when he wound up sleeping in your father’s bed with your father on the couch.

But he seemed sweet on you, calling you darlin’ in that backwoods drawl of his - offering to carry dishes when he saw you struggling. Offering to take over your position if you seemed overwhelmed. Helped your father around the diner and in the house, kept you company, kept out people who threw fits in the diner. Never made a fuss, never made himself difficult.

He didn’t give out his real name until a few months into his staying. His legs bouncing under the counter with nerves and hands gripping the surface for any sort of purchase. By now he figured you and your father would have some sort of attachment to him, maybe he wouldn’t have to explain his past - maybe both of you already knew. Maybe you’d turn him in. Maybe you’d understand. Maybe he could stay.

Please, Lord, let him stay.

It was after closing hours, leaving just the three of you as he spilled all the weight looming over his guilt-wracked mind. Telling you both - he wasn’t born as Eugene. He was born as Arvin.

“Russell, ain’t that right?”

He wants to dig himself a hole and die in it with how your father looks at him. Judging and waiting. Spying and predatory. It reminds him of those woods. It reminds him of the sheriff.

“How many people have you told?” he’s surprised by how you reach across the table so quickly to grab his hands and hold them in your own.

“Just you two…”

“You shot that reverend. Suspected on a sheriff. We heard about you,” your father’s voice is cold and he wishes he could go back by mere seconds and never tell either of you who he was.

He didn’t want to go to prison. He wasn’t a bad person, he had good reason. He knows he had good reason but the bodies piled up and he felt his chances at getting out of this diner in anything but handcuffs slip away. He knows any chance he had at companionship with anyone other than his own head were burnt to ash.

“Why’d you do it?”

His attention is brought back to you at your shockingly soft tone when asking the question, he purses his lips, “It’s gonna sound like a lie, but I swear that none of those people were any good.”

“Arvin,” you lean towards him slightly to make eye contact, “I wanna believe that, I do. But you’ve gotta explain yourself more than that.”

He lets himself find comfort in your sincere expression for a few seconds longer before looking to your father and then back to you, “That preacher - he, he - he hurt my sister. Real bad. She… she killed herself cuz a’ him. And the sheriff chased me ‘round after I…” he shook his head, clenching his eyes shut at how ridiculous he sounded, “They weren’t no good, I promise you. I swear it.”

“Arvin, why’d you kill the sheriff?” you pat his cheek gently, “Why was he chasin’ you? Was it over the preacher?”

“No, I- I shot his sister. And her husband,” he opens his eyes in time to see that your father has come closer and he wishes he never opened his mouth, “They were tryin’ to kill me. I swear it. They took me into their car, said they’d give me a ride but they- they stopped and I saw him pull out a gun and I knew they were up to no good and I had to protect myself. I didn’t wanna do it, I didn’t want- I didn’t want any a’ this,” he looks away from your father and back to you, tears now springing in his eyes, “I didn’t wanna hurt anybody… I didn’t wanna kill them… I’m not a bad person, I swear.”

You wipe away his tears, “Arvin, I wanna believe you, I do. But I also know you know this is a lot to take in, right?” you look back at your father as if silently asking where to go next.

He pulls you away from Arvin and stares down at the young man as if he could physically read whether he was lying or not. Arvin wishes he was looking at you again, he felt more comfortable when he was looking at you. He felt more comfortable with his hands in yours. He wants his hands in yours.

“If I was you,” he begins, “If my sister was hurt however bad yours was, I know that I’d kill that man. If anyone did what that man did to make your sister take her own life to my sister or, God forbid, my daughter, I know that I’d kill that man. I know that if someone tried taking me outta this world, I’d kill them too,” he nodded to himself, weathered and wrinkled hands splaying out on the table, “I’ve never killed anybody with these hands, Arvin. But if I think you’re lying for a second, they just might have to.”

“Daddy,” you pitch in over your father’s shoulder nervously, “what’re you sayin’?”

“I believe you, Arvin. I believe you’re a good kid, I believe you wouldn’t hurt someone without a damn good reason. You’re good to us and you do good work here. I believe you’re tellin’ the truth,” he looks into the young man’s eyes, “If you ain’t, and you’re lying to me, then I hope the Lord makes you see our faces every time you close those eyes.”

“I ain’t lyin’, sir, I promise,” Arvin shakes his head, growing desperate as tears pool at his waterline, he just wants one of you to say it - just say he’s okay. Say he can stay. He can stay here with you. Say he’s okay.

He just wants to be okay.

Your father leaves wordlessly, retreating to the kitchen, lights flickering as he began the routine clean-up for the night and preparation for an early tomorrow. Arvin turns to you in the growing silence, you’re a blotchy outline with the tears gathering in his eyes.

“D’you believe me?”

You come around the counter and reach out, taking Arvin’s head and pressing it to your chest, just over your heart. Gently removing his hat and placing it on the counter, your fingers begin carding through Arvin’s messy hair, “I believe you, Arvin. The man you’ve been to me is not somebody who’d go around hurtin’ people, I believe you.”

He swallows at the lump in his throat, eyes falling closed and hands grounding themselves in your work uniform, “Thank you, darlin’. Thank you, thank you, thank you...”

“You’re safe here, Arvin. We won’t tell nobody, I promise.”

Your voice is more comforting to him than the thought of any eternal bliss waiting outside this life. He wants to protect it - protect you. He wants to stay.

“Can I stay…” he turns his head to press his face into the cloth of your uniform as if that’d prevent any upcoming rejection, “Can I stay, darlin’?”

“You can stay, Arvin,” you murmur, continuing to run your fingers through his hair, “I want you to stay.”

Arvin kept himself wound around you for as long as you’d let him hold on, and you were content enough to keep him in your arms until your father was finished with his routine in the kitchen.

“Ready to head home now?”

“I’m goin’ too?” Arvin pulled away from you just enough to not muffle his reply, eyebrows furrowed, “I’m still stayin’ with you both?”

“Arvin,” you cupped his cheeks to direct his eyes with yours, a small smile just peeking at your lips, “We believe you’re good. Of course, you’re comin’ home with us. We love you, Arvin.”

Your father nodded quietly, patting the boy’s shoulder before walking past you both, “I’ll start up the car, so hurry up. We got an early mornin’ tomorrow.”

It was in the dead of night later on that Arvin found himself still unable to relax. His eyes wide open and fingers nervously tapping at his stomach through the comforter on what used to be your father’s bed. What if you both were tricking him at the diner and there’ll be a police officer out in the front lawn by morning? What if you were at the station turning him in right now and he’s actually all alone in this house?

That thought has him springing up from the bed and down the small hall to where your bedroom door is shut. He feels guilty doubting the sincerity you’d shown but his brain won’t rest and his heart refuses to calm down. He knows he could never blame you for giving him up but he needs you in his life now that he has you.

He curls around the doorknob and pushes open until he’s fully inside. He can just make out your figure in bed within the darkness, his eyes hurrying to adjust to the night.

Creeping to the side of your bed, Arvin hesitates but ultimately shakes you awake anyway, “Darlin’?”

You hum and groan and rub your eyes until you’re fully awake with Arvin at your side, “What’re you doin’ up? Didn’t you hear daddy? We gotta be up early tomorrow.”

“I can’t sleep, I- I keep worryin’.”

At the admission, you’re sitting up and bringing a hand over Arvin’s, “‘Bout what?”

“D’you really trust me, or was that just an act back at the diner?”

“I believe you,” you make room on the bed and drag Arvin into it, coddling him to your body, “I know you’re good. I’ve known you for a long while now. It’ll take a bit to get used to, but I know you’re a good man. I love that you’re a good man.”

You’ve gotten so close to saying what he wants to hear, he could almost pretend it’s what you’d said. He could almost pretend he heard you say you love him - he likes to pretend that’s what he heard. But he knows he doesn’t deserve that love - he just needs to protect what he has now rather than strive for more.

“Thank you for believin’ me, darlin’.”

“I’ll believe you ‘til the end, Arvin. I know you’re good.”

He feels comforted, once again, by those words - by your words. He feels comforted by your hold and he hopes that this is a safe place to lie until his bones give out - if you’ll let him. He knows what he wants is to have and hold and cherish this home you’ve given him both in the form of a roof over his head and the spot between your arms but he has to remind himself that what he needs is to just protect you. At least until you decide his sinful heart is worthy of loving with yours.

#arvin russell x you #arvin russell fluff #arvin russell x reader #arvin russel x you #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel fic

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hankwritten · 3 years

Text

And She Dresses Like a Scoundrel

Engineer/Spy, 2k

Part of the DontNeedADiscord Pride Week, Day 4: Fashion

“Thank you, Engineer,” I said gratefully, accepting back the once again functional disguise kit.

“No problem, partner,” he replied, gracious as ever. “Must have been a hard three days without it.”

“Indeed.” I sighed, recalling how many sentries had gotten the better of me with a grimace. “To think, less than a year ago I was relying entirely on my own skills of camouflage to create my disguise. I would even do it for fun! But here I am, ten months working for BLU and I’ve become completely dependent on their technology.” Another sigh, this time more beleaguered. “Truly, I have let myself slip.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, Spy,” he said, consoling.

I raised my hand. “No need to be patronizing, my friend. I know the writing on the wall.” I waved, preparing to exit his workshop. “Thank you again for the repair, Engineer.”

But as I was halfway to the door, Engie blurted, “why don’t you?”

“Come again?” I asked, turning around.

“Why don’t you make your own disguises anymore?” he repeated, seemingly genuinely confused.

“As I said, I haven’t needed to,” I shrugged. “And thus, my skills have lapsed.”

“But if it was for fun, why’d you stop?”

At that I paused. It had been fun, one of my greatest prides was coming up with a new face and a new identity to fit any particular occasion. There was no greater joy than reintroducing yourself to someone under a new guise and seeing them have no idea.

“…I’m not sure,” I said honestly. “Probably because, despite my enjoyment, I associated the activity exclusively with work.”

That satisfied his curiosity, though it did make him rather dour. “Makes sense.” He thought for a moment. “But you could always pick it back up again?”

“I’d be horridly out of practice,” I waved off.

“So? We all gotta start somewhere.”

I tilted my head. “Why does this interest you so?”

He pushed up his goggles, chewing on some thought until it left a peculiar look about his face. “Just seems a shame,” he said eventually, “All that talent going to waste. You seem mighty busy all the time, never see you do anything just because you enjoy it.”

I pressed my lips together. There was a certain truth to that, and I wondered internally if I was being resistant for no reason. “...Hm. I... suppose you are right. Even if I do have access to a near flawless disguise kit, there’s no reason to set it aside entirely.”

“There you go! You sound gung-ho already.”

I didn’t, but he was familiar with my habit of faint praise to cover up genuine enthusiasm. “I appreciate the suggestion,” I told him honestly. “…Maybe when you see me next, you won’t even know it is I.”

Engie grinned, and it was charming how vicious he looked when he was trying to be encouraging. “Looking forward to it.”

Of my old wigs, only the black one with its loose curls had managed to survive its year in storage. Even still, there was frizz on a good portion of it, and after a half hour of teasing I gave up and began tearing apart the rest of my wardrobe for something to lesson its imperfections. What I found was a scarf, red and silken, and decided it would have to do.

A full-length buttoned coat, and pair of striped legs. Yes, these would be serviceable.

But first, makeup . I remembered that much at least, though I failed to recall the first rule of application: always begin with the eyes. The result was that I was left with a perfect pair of heart lips and a disgusting smudge across my sockets, the latter of which I had no interest in starting over on. Instead, I retrieved a pair of sunglasses from my trunk. I deserved to cut a few corners after so long, and anyone who said differently could try their makeup after a year without practice and see if they could do better.

When I was done, a perfectly lovely woman stared back at me. The stare turned into a frown. A perfectly lovely woman a year out of fashion. What was I wearing? Leggings? Good god, those were on the way out last fall.

I began to examine myself in the mirror, cursing myself for ever becoming so woefully outdated. I’d had my finger in the crease of Dapper Cadaver without pause for the past hundred issues, but I hadn’t even bothered to pick up a single magazine on women’s fashion? Disgraceful. Something would have to be done about this.

By the time I made it down to breakfast, someone had already made the first pot of the morning. I filled a mug and sat down.

Medic didn’t so much as blink. He lifted his eyes, greeting, “Guten Morgen, Herr Spy,” and returned to his medical notes. By the spots of blood, they were likely fresh.

Soldier was another story. “By God! You finally did it, Nurse,” he said, gripping the back of Medic’s chair and shaking him slightly. “You turned Spy into a woman!”

“I did not,” Medic said, peeling one of Soldier’s hands off his shoulder. He then considered for a moment, and addressed me, “unless this is your way of making a statement?”

“Non,” I shook my head. “Not entirely, at least. Soldier is right, but this is not permanent: I simply wished to get back into a more…flexible mode of presentation.” I paused for a second. “What did he mean by ‘finally’?”

“Are you implying I have been working secretly in my lab for the past two years on some sort of sex-change ray that would be sure to result in wacky hijinxs should it ever be completed?” Medic sipped his coffee. “Because I’m not and that is ridiculous.”

“…I see.”

If Soldier’s reaction was passionate, Engineer’s was somehow even more so. Before he even fully entered the kitchen, he stopped dead, his eyes locked on me. A few times he tried to speak, failed, and settled for scratching the back of his neck.

“Seems like you took my advice on the whole disguise work,” he said eventually. Now he had trouble looking at me altogether, a deep blush forming along his cheeks.

“I did,” I smirked, amused at his state. “Though unfortunately I’ve found my current wardrobe is not what I’d like it to be. I was hoping to use today’s ceasefire to do some shopping.”

“You want some company?” he asked, then immediately got flustered again. “Just uh…cause I know you don’t like taking your car though all the dust ‘less you absolutely have to, and nearest city with a shopping mall is pretty far…”

“Ah, so you are offering to drive,” I mused. “And here I thought you believed I suddenly needed assistance carrying my bags.”

Medic snorted, though when Engie shot him a glare he showed no indication he’d even been listening.

“…I can give you a lift, sure,” the Engineer affirmed slowly, still frowning offendedly in Medic’s direction.

“That is unacceptable!” Soldier chimed, brining his fist down on the table and making the silverware tinkle. “You two are not yet married! You think you can just go on a trip into town while unchaperoned? It is indecent!”

Engie sputtered, losing the bit of coffee he’d had the misfortune of drinking. “Soldier! What hell are you talking about?” he sputtered. “That ain’t- it’s still just Spy.”

“Exactly,” Soldier agreed. “That is why the two of you cannot be left alone together. Do not worry! I volunteer to accompany you on this shopping trip.”

Medic was laughing, having a much more difficult time hiding it now.

I grinned placidly. “You heard the man, Engineer,” I said. “It would go against decency to be about without a chaperone.”

“Fine,” he said, pulling his helmet further over his eyes. “Guess I’ll make the truck up for three.”

As much as I wanted to see if he would pop like a balloon if any more blood went to his face, I decided he’d had enough for the morning. I kept our conversation within acceptable subjects on the way up, and refrained from commenting on his new collection of odd mannerisms. It was quite adorable actually, especially when Soldier would lean out of the back seat every now and then to remind him ‘no funny business’.

When arriving at the glorious superplex that was the Santa Fe outdoor mall, the first thing on my agenda was a new jacket. The one extracted from the bowels of my old wardrobe was such a drab mauve, and with some help from the assistant at Loveman’s, I was able to find a few acceptable pantsuits. One could only expect “acceptable” when shopping chic in a department store—and a department store in America no less—but hopefully the rivers of fashion had trickled down enough that I wouldn’t embarrass myself too badly. The white plaid one was even quite fetching.

Next were hats.

“Engineer! Spy!” Soldier arrested our attention with. “I have located something I would like to purchase.”

He was wearing a newsboy hat over the top of his helmet.

“You needn’t ask us for permission,” I told him. “You have your own funds.”

He straightened like he honestly hadn’t thought of that. “Okay!” Then he was off again, sorting through the seemingly never-ending headwear.

“Some chaperone,” Engie remarked as he disappeared.

“I’m sure we can be trusted alone for but a few minutes,” I said, turning with a blue cloche hat in place. “What do you think of this one?”

“As pretty as the last. I mean-” He coughed. “Looks just fine.”

I smiled. “Here I thought you’d had enough teasing, but it seems you’re doing all the work for me.”

“Dang it Spy, I just meant-” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You know what, let’s just head to the jewelry.”

I shook my head. “Unfortunately jewelry is too much of a hazard. Rings and bracelets make removing gloves difficult, and necklaces are extremely useful for strangling your target from behind.”

“Terrifying that you put it like that, but remember you ain’t doing this for the job,” he prompted. “This is you getting a chance to try something different. D’ya want to wear a necklace?”

As he said it, he moved closer to the jewelry counter. I followed him, peering through the glass at all the trinkets I usually dismissed when assembling a woman’s portfolio. They were lovely…

“Mademoiselle,” I called to the woman behind the counter. “Might I be able to try this on?”

Engie whistled. “Nice choice.”

“I happen to have exquisite taste in jewelry,” I told him, gazing at my reflection in the glass as it wore the blue teardrop pendant I had picked out. “Both when selecting for a lover, or for myself.”

The attendant gave me an odd look, but it was worth it to see Engineer chuckle in a way that no longer uncomfortable.

“I have located another!” Soldier informed us as we took our bag. This time he was wearing a Viking helmet. From where he had obtained it, I had no idea.

“Then finish up paying,” Engie said. “We’re heading out soon.”

“Not so fast, Engineer,” I stopped him as he’d taken a step toward the door. “We still have not gotten anything for you.”

“Me?” he balked, craning his neck around like he was suddenly intimidated by the voluptuous mannequins surrounding us. “I don’t need nothin’…”

“And why not?” I asked. “We have dedicated the whole morning to me, and Soldier is finding ways to entertain himself, why shouldn’t you acquire something nice?”

“I…”

“Please, my friend,” I said. “My treat.”

“…Alright,” he sighed. “Sorry Sol, looks like-”

Soldier had acquired a bowler hat, which he wore on top of his Viking helm.

“-Well okay then.”

The Engineer provided an interesting challenge. The first thing I noticed was that everything in his size was far too long for him, and it made me question how he’d even found fitting clothes in the first place when everything in the store simply wanted to fall off him in tubes. He explained that he usually had to hem up his pants after buying them. I thought that was adorable, to which he muttered a string of ‘aw shucks’.

In a montage where Engie grew more flustered by the minute, I managed to get him into a delightful pair of corduroy pants with a mustard button down, an orange sweater with matching slacks, and a simple floral print button down that might go under his overalls. However, my absolute favorite was-

“Well now you’re just being rude,” he said, holding up the jacket.

“Howdy partner,” I mimicked. “Why don’t we just give up?”

“I don’t sound like that,” he complained. “And I definitely don’t wear things like this.”

The cowboy leathers were the sort of pink you saw from a mile away, genuine cow hide wasted on the monstrosity in his hands. There were more tassels than a man could ever want, and they went wonderfully with the white chaps and matching white Stetson.

“This is an eyesore,” he said.

“So are your regular clothes,” I reflected. “Please, I only ask that you try them on.”

He grumbled, and stepped into the changing room. That was good. I’d hate to have to bring out the, ‘for me?’.

“It’s certainly…something,” I said six minutes later.

“A trainwreck,” Engie said.

“You’re smiling,” I pointed out.

He grinned a little wider. He turned in a circle, the hundreds of tassels swishing around him, and then for good measure did a little two-step. I couldn’t help but chuckle with a hand over my mouth.

A shopper with a mustache passed by and gave us a strange look, and for some reason I started laughing harder.

“What’s got you so tickled?” Engie inquired.

“Nothing,” I waved off with a smile. “I was just thinking: after the thirty-five times the two of use have appeared in public together, this the first that you’re the queer one.”

He paused for a moment, looking down at himself. “Heh, I guess so.” Then he started to laugh. “…So. You been counting the number of times we’ve gone out together?”

“Is it so odd that I enjoy your company?

“No but…” he studied me for a moment. “Would you like to do this again some time? Assuming we can ditch the chaperone.”

“Mr. Conagher, how scandalous!” I said with mock horror. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He gave me one of those charming smiles again, and my heart fluttered ever so slightly.

Soldier greeted us on the way out, hat boxes stacked so high we couldn’t see his face anymore. “Operation successful! Move out troops!”

“Soldier,” Engie asked as he began securing boxes in the back of his pickup so there wouldn’t be a colossal hat pileup on the highway, “how long until you stop following my ‘n Spy around?”

“I do not know. Spy! How long are you going to be a women?”

I adjusted my new hat in the side mirror. “Until I feel otherwise.”

“Well then there you go!” Soldier declared. “It is perfectly acceptable for two unmarried men to be alone together, so you may resume making moon eyes at each other then.”

That, for once, got us both to flush.

#dnadprideweek2021 #engiespy #tf2 fanfiction

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florrickandassociates · 3 years

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TGF Thoughts: 5x02-- Once there was a court...

Season five is off to a great start. I’m feeling more energized about TGF than I have in ages, maybe since the beginning of season three. After the mostly standalone premiere, I wasn’t sure what to expect from the rest of the season. Episode two introduced a lot of new elements that I’m intrigued by and excited about, so here’s hoping the rest of the season can sustain that energy. (Many) more thoughts under the cut.

And, again, since the most consistent thing about Tumblr is its inability to roll out new features that are actually helpful, here is a link to view the post so you don’t have to read it all on your dash. (Omg, Tumblr, not only do you force people to keep reading on their dashes but you also jump down to the middle of the post when the full version opens? Do you have ANYONE beta test these features?)

Reddick/Lockhart is bustling when the episode opens. The fact they’re calling it Reddick/Lockhart seems like an indication that Liz chose to partner with Diane—it's not. The firm just needs a name, and it can’t have Boseman in it. (The signage still says RBL... for now.)

Everyone in reception is talking animatedly, except for Carmen Moyo, who’s just taking it all in. You might be tempted to read her as nervous. You would be very, very wrong. But we don’t know that now. Right now, it wouldn’t be wrong to assume she’s Maia 2.0. This scene strongly parallels Maia’s first day at the firm (opening with the reception saying “Good morning” and the firm name, then showing new associates waiting for an orientation by David Lee). And in that scene, Maia is absolutely nervous, like you’d expect a new hire might be.

Carmen focuses on another associate’s hand. I assume this is meant to be a parallel to how Maia fidgets with her rosary ring in that initial scene. Carmen then peels a price tag off her portfolio—possibly another Maia parallel, since the portfolio Diane gives Maia is such an important symbol in Maia’s arc.

I also see shades of Alicia and her first scene here—Alicia's silent and focuses on small details (the thread on Peter’s jacket) too.

I don’t say any of this in hopes of comparing Carmen directly to either of those characters. Carmen is not like any other character this show has had before. But these parallels are quite good at establishing character, building intrigue, and showing contrast (even if you don’t see them as parallels, we’re still getting a lot about Carmen just from watching her reactions, even if we don’t yet have the context to understand how to read Carmen). Since I’m now thinking about Maia and Alicia, I’m also now thinking about how Carmen is different from them and triangulating her spot in this universe—that's a good thing. She’s not a copy of either character, but I understand a little more about what the writers are telling me about her from the parallels.

The RBL sign in the background is being taken off the wall. It falls and adds even more chaos to reception.

David Lee walks in and screams, “Stand up! Those seats are for clients.” This is the exact same language he uses in the 1x01 scene; this is definitely an intentional parallel.

Btw Carmen already has more personality than Maia and she’s been in one episode so far! I didn’t hate 1x01 Maia, but I will say that nearly everything that intrigued me about early Maia was that I could project more about Alicia (whom I, obviously, care a lot about) onto her. I can and will compare Carmen to Alicia, but when I do, it won’t be because Carmen is an interesting lens through which to analyze Alicia... it will be because Alicia is interesting precedent to use to understand Carmen.

I still hate Maia, yep.

David Lee accidentally instructs a client to stand and then has to save face, heh.

In David’s tour of the office, we see the partners squabbling. Sounds about right. And STR Laurie is still a thing, which explains why David is there (though not why he is giving a tour).

Throughout the tour, we get a lot of shots of Carmen. Again, she’s silent and looks like she could be nervous. (Spoiler: this is a fakeout and when you rewatch this scene, you can see what new cast member Charmaine Bingwa is doing here—expertly putting on a face that looks like anxiety in one context, but is actually just Carmen calmly sizing things up.)

Marissa eagerly joins the tour. “That’s right. They’re letting you play lawyer, Marissa. How nice,” David says. Carmen takes this in, too. “Fucking prick,” Marissa mutters. Carmen hears.

David Lee introduces “someone from HR” which is a great sign that HR is very effective at this firm.

In the conference room, the partners are still arguing about who should replace Adrian. Diane tries the “all options are open to us and we plan to decide in the next 48 hours” strategy, but this audience is too smart for that. Madeline asks about the new leadership structure. (I am kind of hoping that one nice side effect of having to kind of shoot the season in a COVID bubble will be that we’ll get more small recurring characters. Madeline’s been around for a little while but we’re already seeing her get to do more this year.)

“Diane and I are going to run the firm together. For now,” Liz says. Oh, no, Liz, do not open the door to change. Letting the partners know you’re not sure is probably the worst strategy. You’ve gotta decide or they’ll sense weakness.

“Just the two of you? A black firm being run by a white woman?” a partner asks. “Well, I’m not running it alone. I’m here to assist Liz,” Diane says, trying to deflect. “Really? Because she needs assistance?” he counters. Diane doesn’t know what to say, but she and Liz both know these questions aren’t going to go away.

HR is running an orientation for the new hires and it involves having them all take pieces of toilet paper. Man, I hate ice breakers. Carmen takes a moderate amount and then passes it to Marissa, who takes only one square. Carmen notes this and makes eye contact with Marissa. And this is where it starts to become obvious that Carmen is not nervous—just observant and not chatty. Carmen knows Marissa is one to watch from how David reacted to her presence. She gives Marissa a look that’s meant to be noticed and start a conversation. It works, and Marissa explains that for each square you take, you have to share a fact about yourself. Carmen hates this and hides the rest of the toilet paper so she only has one square.

Liz tries to say there will be a discussion about the partnership, and Daniel (that’s what the captions call him, though they do reference him as “Barry” at one point but I'm like 99% sure I know which actor is Barry and it’s not him) says it feels like they’re just being told what the new state of things is. Liz says she hears him but right now they need a senior associate to backfill Lucca.

Daniel doesn’t think they need one. I don’t get why, unless it has to do with the budget cuts.

“We need someone with real experience to take on her caseload,” Liz notes. Hell yeah you do!

Liz asks if any of the partners want to take over family law. None do.

After the meeting, Liz asks Diane if she can call a head hunter. Diane approves. David Lee pops up to ask which one of them is taking Boseman’s office and they haven’t discussed it yet. I love that they managed to order a sign with their names on it before they’ve talked about how being partners will actually work.

(Also, Adrian’s office is quite obviously going to end up with Liz. And it would be weird if it were Diane, anyway, because it’s Diane’s old office from Lockhart/Gardner and it would look it if she sat there again lol)

David notes that an empty corner office looks like failure. He is correct. He gives them until Friday to decide.

Marissa does not like the ice breaker at all and pointedly notes she only has one secret, and it is that she used to be married to a mime. She makes a whole bit out of it and then whispers to Carmen, “I usually just make things up.”

Carmen’s next and she finally gets to speak her first words of the series. You know who else didn’t speak at all in her first scene? Alicia Florrick. Very different scenes, but I can’t help but think this is intentional. From what I’ve seen of Carmen, both she and Alicia use silence strategically and are comfortable with quiet. Alicia’s first scene is silent because she doesn’t need to use words to be expressive, but it does establish that she’s going to be a character with a lot of internal thoughts she won’t vocalize and that she’s observant and tries to maintain composure. Sure, you can watch the first scene of Pilot and just see a woman who’s stunned into silence, but when you watch it knowing Alicia and realize how much of the essential parts of her character are in her totally silent intro sequence that kicks off the show... it’s kind of amazing.

So comparing Carmen’s introduction to that? I mean this as a huge compliment. Carmen deploys silence for reasons both similar and different to Alicia. While Alicia uses silence to maintain some kind of boundary between her inner thoughts and the outside world, Carmen uses it to get a chance to observe and take things in without showing her cards. (We do see Alicia do that as well, especially at work, but I would call this a side-effect of Alicia being a quiet person rather than her intention; Carmen seems to be more conscious of how she uses her silence.)

Carmen is from Victorville, California. That means nothing to me but I’m sure there’s some significance. Carmen mimics Marissa’s response when asked for her secrets—she also responds with, “secret,” emphasizing she only has one. But what she says next also shows her in contrast to Marissa. She says her secret is she hates games. We already know so much about her and she’s said like ten words!

I think it’s smart to set Carmen up as a contrast to other characters. I know who Carmen is not because of how she differs from more familiar presences like Alicia, Maia, and Marissa. Marissa hates ice breakers, but her reaction to them is to use them as an opportunity to say something funny and over the top. Many others (including probably both Alicia and Maia) would likely resent the activity but play along and say something unremarkable (I could see Alicia overthinking it and sharing something surprisingly quirky though!). Carmen just does not give a fuck, and in a different way than Marissa doesn’t give a fuck. Marissa insinuates that she thinks the whole activity is stupid... Carmen just flat out says it. I would not pull this move on my first day of a new job! And that is the point—who is this person who is so self-assured she’s willing to insult HR on her very first day of her very first job as a lawyer?

ALL OF THIS FROM A FEW WORDS AND SOME WELL-ACTED GLANCES! As I said, I’m very intrigued by Carmen. I have some questions about the logistics of this plot, her endgame, and how she’ll function when brought into the firm drama/debate plots, but for now, I only have good things to say.

Liz interrupts the ice breaker to announce that everyone will be assigned a mentor. She then pauses to greet Marissa, which Carmen, again, notices. Liz is really there to say that they’ll be working on client maintenance that day, and each new hire will get to help with one of their clients. When she reads off their top clients, all the hands shoot up—except Carmen’s.

Madeline’s last name is Gilford. Noted. John’s last name is Wilson.

No one raises their hand to assist with Oscar Rivi, who is in a maximum-security prison. Carmen confidently raises her hand.

Barry’s last name is Poe. Noted.

Marissa and Carmen exchange glances. Super curious to see how this evolves. There are too many Marissa/Carmen exchanges in this episode for the writers to not plan to have them interact more in the future.

I’m kind of loving that it seems like the show’s leads are now Diane, Liz, Marissa, and Carmen. Diane’s obviously great, Liz is someone who’s been deserving of leading material for ages, Carmen seems interesting, and I’m so impressed they have managed to make Marissa, usually good in small doses, into a character who can handle larger plots without wearing on my patience (like that awful Elsbeth centric episode of Wife).

Diane has a client who received a summons directly, which Diane finds strange. But, since she is already working with this client on the same case (teaching kids during COVID) in another court, Diane is optimistic about this second suit. She thinks it could set a good precedent.

Diane introduces Phoebe, an associate who will help out on the case. Diane says she’s not personally going because it’s a formality and Diane needs to work on the brief. I’m like 99% sure Diane isn’t personally going because Diane’s role here is to convince the client she’s getting senior-level attention while having junior people do the work, but nice story!

Diane asks Marissa to go along with Phoebe. Marissa thinks she’s going to get to argue in court... Diane says no, Marissa gets to hand hold a client.

Oscar Rivi is basically Lemond Bishop, which is the only explanation I have for why RL would represent him. And, you’ll recall, I didn’t understand why RL would represent Bishop either. But we’ll just have to go with it.

(I think representing multiple drug lords is probably a bigger PR issue for RL than having a white partner! How come no one ever talks about this! Actually, new complaint: wasn’t Liz, who now has more power than before, the one who was most against representing Bishop?)

(I guess it may make sense that she’d be more okay with this Rivi dude than Bishop. Whatever Rivi’s done, I don’t think he’s threatened Liz’s kid like Bishop did!)

(Also, I’m fine with them switching it up and suddenly having this new drug kingpin. Mike Colter is obviously unavailable since he’s a lead on Evil, and I was tired of Bishop anyway. If the writers stop using Bishop and Sweeney as shorthands for corruption I will be very happy; I don’t think there’s much more mileage left there. Speaking of, Dylan Baker popped up in 2x02 of Evil!)

“I don’t want you to be intimidated,” Barry tells Carmen as they arrive at Rivi’s prison. Carmen reads articles about Rivi on her phone, saying she’s taking notes. Barry tells Carmen to “sit, listen, leave.” But then he discovers his ID is expired (he didn’t get it renewed during the pandemic) and he can’t go visit Rivi as a result. Carmen says she’s fine alone—she'll sit, listen, leave. She’s calm and not at all cocky as she says it, and it really takes until she’s actually talking with Rivi to realize that she’s not (just?) a hypercompetent law school grad trying to impress. She doesn’t seem to care at all what people, no matter how powerful, think of her, as long as she’s able to find security of any sort. (Tbh, it is kind of amazing she doesn’t get fired in this episode.)

(I’m getting ahead of myself but in Alicia’s first ep, she also changes up strategies on the partners. Alicia does it almost without realizing she’s gone against their wishes—she's just sure of the right strategy—and Carmen does it much more intentionally.)

Marissa and Phoebe can’t locate Judge Wackner’s court. Marissa asks a security guard she’s friendly with (of course she is) for help. He says there’s no Judge Wackner there, and the security guard notices that it’s a summon for a “9 ¾ Circuit.” The guard laughs at the Harry Potter reference; Marissa is not amused. They leave the courthouse when Marissa spots a sign for “9 ¾". She follows the sighs down an alley. Phoebe wants nothing to do with this; Marissa and the client are intrigued. They end up in a store called Copy Coop and are directed to a warehouse.

In the warehouse, an argument is resolved through Rock, Paper, Scissors. Then it’s Marissa’s turn. She asks for a continuance just like she was supposed to, but she uses the wrong phrasing. Judge Wackner notices. That’s when Marissa notes she’s not a lawyer, and Wackner responds that he’s not a licensed judge. So it’s fine that Marissa isn’t a lawyer.

Marissa tries to protest again that she’s not a lawyer, and Wackner basically tells her to proceed anyway. The client wants to stay, weird as this fake court seems.

Carmen reads with Rivi. She stares at him, getting him to speak first. His translator asks if there’s another lawyer with her; she just introduces herself. The translator does a terrible job of translating Rivi’s complaints, sharing very little of what Rivi said with Carmen.

Unsurprisingly (to me at least, because scenes like this ALWAYS have the twist where a character doesn’t let on that they speak the language until the exact right moment), Carmen speaks Spanish.

She lets Rivi know she speaks Spanish AND insults the translator in one go. Pretty big move. That gets Rivi’s attention and he kicks out the translator. He asks who she is and she repeats her name again (characters reacting like this will never not remind me of “Who are you?” “Kalinda.”).

Carmen notes that she’s just out of law school, explaining that’s why she’s eager to help. She doesn’t reveal that by mistake—she's using it to her advantage.

Credits! As I predicted, things are blowing up again this week like normal. No more kittens and puppies. There’s a new couch that blows up in the credits. Wackner’s desk also makes it in. I can’t remember if the purses were in this position before; they might be new. All the exploding TVs show footage of January 6th (which I hear is going to be a major theme of the season, though it’s not heavily featured in this episode). And the zoomed in shot of the closet (that I’ve never really liked) is gone, as is the falling curtain!

I still hate the font of the logo for this show. I also don’t understand why the show seems to have three logos—the one that’s the TGW logo but with “fight”, the one in the credits, and whatever the one they’ve come up with for this season’s marketing materials is. I like that they’re trying with the marketing of this season but I don’t get why the show has three logos.

While I’m talking about the marketing, can we just talk about the “Goodbye Lucca” graphic the official social media account posted? It had a fucking crown drawn over her head like this is a 2013 Tumblr shitpost!!! Who are they targeting with this?! WHO ARE THEY MARKETING TO? DOES THIS WORK ON ANYONE??? It literally says, “Chi-Town” on it. I cringed so hard. Sometimes I feel like the marketing of this show is meant to cater to the people who would, like, watch the credits of last week’s episode and be like, “Yes! It IS all now puppies and kittens! Everything bad in the world has been resolved!”

But hey, at least it’s better than the absolute trash they used to post for TGW. Remember when there’d be episodes about Alicia making career moves and they’d be like, “#TeamPeter or #TeamWill????”

OR, OR OR OR, the fucking time they tried to crosspromote TGW and the Victoria’s Secret Fashion show (yes) with a tweet that read, “All ‘Saint Alicia’ needs is a pair of wings&she practically turns into an Angel.” I... have no words.

Hey, Caleb is back! I was not expecting them to actually wrap up his arc with Liz. I think I’m actually pretty thankful it’s ending like this—he comes back for what I assume is one last episode and I don’t actually have to deal with the Liz/Caleb plot. Apparently the writers were setting that up so they could do some plots about power dynamics and interracial couples and who is seen as having power. Caleb and Liz were going to have an encounter with the police, who were going to listen to Caleb instead of Liz even though this encounter would’ve taken place in Liz’s house and Liz is the name partner and Caleb the employee. Interesting enough, but anything boss/employee just squicks me out and I don’t need it around and Liz deserves better.

But I did like Caleb as a character, so I’m glad he gets an exit, unlike past characters who have just disappeared. (Remember Robyn Burdine? Or that time Taye Diggs was a major character for two seconds?)

Liz was NOT expecting to see Caleb as a candidate for Lucca’s old role. Things are instantly awkward. I guess Caleb left STR Laurie?

Diane immediately senses that things are awkward with Liz and Caleb. Caleb is very professional throughout all this. Diane gets an important call and leaves the room, so Caleb and Liz can chat privately.

Caleb says he thought Liz was reaching out; Liz says she should’ve reached out but things ended abruptly. Love that Caleb checks that no one else is in the room with Liz before getting even more personal. He says they should just act like nothing ever happened between them and Liz asks if he can do that. “I’m the employee. Of course I can,” he says. This is why you don’t sleep with employees.

He says he really does want the job and he liked the firm. Liz says she’ll talk to Diane. Caleb says if it doesn’t work out he’ll be fine.

Phoebe tells Diane about 9 ¾ and Diane does not understand... at all. “If it has no power, and it doesn’t have jurisdiction, what does it have?” Diane wonders.

A little more on the case: RL is representing a woman who taught a small group of students during the pandemic, and some parents are suing her for preaching socialism at the children.

The woman suing did NOT like being called a Karen by her daughter or being compared to the family from Parasite. She wants a refund.

Marissa objects and makes up her own grounds, realizing that since it’s not a real court, she can object for any reasons she wants—as long as they follow common sense.

These scenes could so easily feel ridiculous, like a gag that goes on for too long. They do not. There’s just enough zany humor and theatrics to make the 9 ¾ court feel surreal. And, most helpfully, Wackner is a GREAT judge. He is engaged with the work and only concerned with the facts and arguments rather than politics. He’s tough but fair. He’s direct and he maintains control over his court. He’d be one of the best judges in a normal court. His sincerity is enough to make you wonder why courts DON’T operate like this. It’s easy to see why the characters are sold on this BS-free, rational, and effective system, even if it makes no sense that it would exist and it has no power. It’s simultaneously idealistic (if only things were resolved fairly) and threatening (how can something like this exist?! What does it mean that the real courts are so ineffective that there’s a need for something like this?! What happens if this goes beyond what are basically mediations for simple issues?).

This type of thought experiment is where TGF excels. I think they were going for something like this with Memo 618 (which hasn’t gone away!), but that arc always felt like it was on the verge of going off the rails. Mandy Patinkin’s performance and the writing for the 9 ¾ court already have me more invested in this than I was in Memo 618.

Marissa tries yet again to wait for help to arrive, but Wackner insists that they keep things moving. She tries to stall and ends up referencing George Clooney. Wackner cuts through that, too—he hates speeches “unless I'm giving them, and even then I’m just trying to stall.” Then he holds up a sign that reads, “CUT THE SHIT” and the audience laughs. He says this isn’t the kind of court where you can just run out the clock. Kind of ridiculous that real court IS that kind of court, no? (And that’s why this is an effective device so far.) (I say so far because I have watched content from these writers for long enough to know that things that work in small doses or initially can go wildly off the rails.)

Marissa changes strategies and does what she does best: she goes on instinct and adjusts her strategy as she goes. She eventually catches the woman accusing her client of teaching socialism in a lie about Parasite. It’s very Legally Blonde and very smart of Marissa. And I’m rather proud of myself for seeing what Marissa was doing (getting the woman to commit to a time frame and then baiting her to talk about a moment that proved the time frame fake) before she revealed what she was doing.

Sarah Steele is so good in this scene. I love her smile when she realizes the woman took the bait, and that she reacts with “AHA!” instead of something more proper. This is pretty much the perfect court for Marissa.

Diane and Jay arrive; are confused.

Carmen leaves Rivi after quite a bit of time has passed, making Barry nervous. Carmen tells him very little and repeats that she sat, listened, and left. She told the translator to go fuck himself (almost in those words) so she’s gotta know that Barry will hear what happened from someone. She does not care. She lies to Barry like it’s nothing.

Diane does not understand the 9 ¾ court, nor does she understand why a non-lawyer like Marissa is arguing. She does not understand why losing in this venue would matter or why a lawyer she knows (ha, I looked him up to see if he’d been on Wife or Fight before, and he has... as a totally different character!) is there.

“Okay, I’m losing my mind. Look, this is not legal. We have got to get out of here,” Diane says. Toni, the client, wants to stay.

I don’t actually know the answer to this—would there be repercussions to someone who is a member of the bar participating in something like this? Everyone knows it’s not real or binding, so nothing is being misrepresented, but this FEELS illegal?

Toni notes that a lot of people suing her are there watching, so walking out or losing would look bad. She also likes Judge Wackner because he is “better than the judges in real court.”

“Diane, what is real?” the client asks when Diane points out again that this court is fake. The client’s spent 8 months on this case in limbo, so this feels like reality to her. Fair point.

Diane chats with the other lawyer and asks what he’s doing here. He says he’s getting paid—with business down and court dockets backlogged (how much would that affect a large firm that settles most cases out of court? I’m actually curious about this), it’s a good source of money.

Diane realizes it’s basically arbitration. Then says she doesn’t understand anything anymore. The other lawyer replies, “Sure you do. That’s why this is throwing you. Welcome to 2021.” Yup.

Diane goes with it. A former teacher is on the stand. He’s got a grudge and wants money, so he’s helping out. He tries to say something that is the most obvious hearsay ever... and Wackner has no problem with it. Marissa likes that.

Wackner basically says he’s fine with hearsay because he can use his brain to figure out what’s real and what’s fake, just like we all do every day. Crosstalk is also allowed.

Wackner also doesn’t allow for bullshit breaks where lawyers tell clients what to say, because he “likes the truths found in sudden utterances.” All his rules make a lot of sense. They are all also counter to every single sneaky legal strategy these characters tend to use.

Toni made a comment that she “couldn’t fall in love with anyone who voted for Trump.” That gives a point to the plaintiff. Diane notes that this belief is shared with most of the country, and Wackner asks her if she shares it. “I’m not the question,” Diane replies, because she definitely doesn’t want to talk about her husband who worked in the Trump administration.

Wackner flat out tells Diane that Marissa should argue instead of her. “Marissa is not a lawyer,” Diane tries to say. “Well, I’m not a judge!” Wackner responds. And that’s it for the day.

Diane asks Jay for intel, and then we get one of the most effective Jay scenes in a while—he bonds with the Copy Coop security guard, who only has good things to say about Wackner. I like how the writers use COVID in this episode—they treat it like it’s recent past (fingers crossed) and reference it when it makes sense, like how the courts are backlogged, or this guard was laid off.

The security guard notes that he thinks Wackner is building something good in his spare time. He also notes that Wackner is a big Grateful Dead fan.

Carmen takes it upon herself to visit someone else in prison to help Rivi. She points out they’re under surveillance and convinces this other dude to take the fall for Rivi so he can go free. It’s very smart. I assume this is all her own strategy, as we see her look up this other dude before she’s even met with Rivi, though it’s possible Rivi came up with some of it.

There is something about Carmen’s demeanor when she deals with clients that is very Alicia-like in interesting ways. She’s very direct and unflappable in a way that people seem to take to (remember how all the creeps loved Alicia?), and she only shows emotion when she decides to. The similarities stop there. Carmen doesn’t seem remorseful or conflicted (Alicia always did). Sociopathic definitely isn’t the right word for her, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say it didn’t cross my mind. Carmen knows that her clients are bad guys. That doesn’t trouble her. And she doesn’t try to take the easy way out—she does more than she needs to. I don’t know what she’s really trying to do here, but I suspect she does.

Carmen is 28, just fyi.

Liz gets a call from Charles Lester. Obviously, Lester now works for Rivi, because Rivi is New Bishop. (Usually I’m a bit against saying any character is the new version of an old one, like how Lucca was not the new Kalinda (even if she was brought in to bring new energy to the space Kalidna occupied) or how Carmen is not the new Lucca (same), but I’m pretty comfortable saying Rivi is New Bishop. He’s not the same personality, but he... is New Bishop.)

Lester notes that Rivi only wants to meet with Carmen from now on. Liz does not understand this and she’s not thrilled with it. She notes that Carmen is a first year who has been there for two days, but she doesn’t want to lose Rivi’s business so she goes along with it. Was that Carmen’s endgame? Job security? Does she not care about the RL job and see a good opportunity to... just represent Rivi without a firm behind her? I can’t tell.

(This is where I could see this arc faltering. I get why Liz keeps Carmen on—she doesn’t want to lose the client—but I don’t really understand why Liz wants Rivi as a client. Losing Carmen who’s been there for two days and Rivi who she probably doesn’t want to represent seems like a fine outcome to me. And, beyond that, if Carmen doesn’t care about the firm and also doesn’t need them, what’s in it for her to stay? I don’t think she really cares that the firm would have more resources to use in defending Rivi. Like, why isn’t the outcome here just that Carmen teams up with Lester and leaves RL behind?)

Diane listens to the Grateful Dead and writes down lyrics she can use in court. Kurt gets home from work. Diane asks him if he thinks she should give up her name partnership since it’s a black firm. Kurt asks if she’s the best lawyer there. She says no, but she’s one of the best, and besides, it’s a bad look and she wants to do what’s right for the firm. “You and I disagree on so much. You obviously ask my opinion because you know that I will argue something you know you won’t,” Kurt says. This is a very good, and very accurate, response.

Diane keeps going, though. Kurt plays along and starts talking about identity politics. Diane starts debating back, ignoring that Kurt is not really wanting to play devil’s advocate. Kurt doesn’t give Diane an easy out and tells her she’s right—she should step aside. That’s not what she wanted to hear. Kurt laughs and then goes to take a shower.

Liz is eyeing Adrian’s office when Carmen walks up. She’s invited Carmen to talk to her. She asks her how things are going. Carmen just wants to know if she did something wrong. Carmen says she likes the firm and it’s great to be out of the legal clinics.

Liz shares the news that Rivi only wants Carmen going forward. Carmen is pleased and says that’s surprising... though she looks more pleased than surprised.

Liz suggests maintaining a professional distance, to which Carmen replies “I’m very professional.” “Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Liz tries to backtrack. “Is the firm dissatisfied with my work?” Carmen asks bluntly. Liz says no. “It’s my intention to treat all my clients like humans. Even the ones who might be murderers, or definitely are murderers. And I think Mr. Rivi might be responding to that because it’s something that he hasn’t received at this firm previously,” Carmen notes. This is QUITE the tone to take with your boss.

One question I have—and this is mostly inspired by the recap at I think Vulture?-- is to what extent Carmen knows what she’s doing. It seems like a lot. I can’t tell how much Carmen knows vs how much Carmen THINKS she knows. She’s definitely smart, and I don’t think she is an idealist (when she says her intention is to treat her clients like humans, she means that’s her strategy), but she is young and new to the law and only out for herself, which makes her vulnerable.

Liz does not take well to Carmen’s talk and notes she’s talking about her personal safety. Carmen thanks her and says she’d understand if Liz doesn’t want her on the case.

There is something a little unnerving about Carmen. She keeps saying things that are boldly inappropriate but masked by how professional and correct her arguments sound (like the line about treating clients like humans). And she has a way of gaining power over a conversation. Liz squirms way too much in that conversation and loses some of her control as a result.

I just need to know more about her!!! The fact that I can’t understand her makes her immediately interesting.

Diane and Liz interview Julius for Lucca’s position. They all know it would be a demotion for him, but they’re seriously considering it. I feel like this would look awful for the firm and they are going to handwave it anyway after a few lines about how bad it would look.

Diane quotes the Grateful Dead in court and it works. The other lawyer tries to quote songs too... it does not work.

Carmen gets Rivi a bunch of candy bars from the court vending machine so he can have a snack he enjoys. The security guard doesn’t want to let Rivi eat them, but Carmen is right that this is permissible. The guard smashes the bars in defeat. Carmen opens one for Rivi.

It is a little distracting to see the main characters pretend that COVID is in the past when the extras have masks, but honestly, that’s kind of what life is like right now?

Carmen zones out a little in court—not sure if she just does that or if she is trying to look unfamiliar with the rules so people will go easy on her/have low expectations. I think it’s a combination of both, considering that we’ve seen her laser-focus on things elsewhere in the episode AND she tells the judge it is her first day in court.

Court stuff happens; Carmen’s strategy works.

The judge tries to give Carmen advice and a warning. Liz is also there, watching, which is good because I was shocked anyone would let Carmen do this unsupervised.

Carmen is also kind of like if you removed all of Maia’s worst traits (her selfishness, her spoiled brat attitude, her sense of entitlement) and skipped right to her willingness to partner with Blum.

Liz and Carmen talk again, this time about the reputation of the firm. Liz notes that Carmen is clearly capable and reminds her sternly that she needs to conduct herself in a manner that does not put the firm at risk and that’s the only reminder she’s going to get. Carmen twirls a pen and stares at it instead of listening to Liz. She says she’s just listening like she’s perfectly innocent. It’s the right thing to say and, again, it’s SUPER UNNERVING.

“Wow. You really don’t give a shit what people think about you, do you?” Liz says in frustration. “I’m here to do a good job for my clients,” Carmen notes. Is she??? Does she just not care who she’s representing and want to do a good job, and that’s her whole motivation?? I would find that interesting but I need more to believe it. She’s so perplexing.

(Again, I don’t really get why Liz hasn’t fired her, because if she and Carmen keep having these interactions, Liz IS going to end up ceding all of her power and looking weak. But maybe Liz is as intrigued as I am.)

Liz also tells Carmen she’s going to be her mentor. Carmen says thanks and that she respected Liz’s father. Liz does NOT take that well. Audra’s reaction—a mix of shock, irritation, and confusion—is perfect here. I think Carmen is trying to say that she respected Carl Reddick—but she has no such respect for Liz. (It could also be about the sexual harassment, but I don’t think that’s public knowledge.)

I noticed earlier that the courtroom was #305 and was wondering why they chose that number (it’s similar to Courtroom 302, the book that inspired the bond court arc, which is why 305 stuck in my mind). I see now that the Copy Coop’s address is 305. Heh.

Turns out that the woman suing Toni is someone who would break COVID protocol and be generally terrible. I’m shocked.

Wackner decides to skip closing arguments and rule. He sides with Toni.

See, this is where this kind of thing is dangerous. Wackner is great and fair. But you can’t really replicate a system like this (though I also think this system would fail if replicated on too large of a scale; the reason it works is that everyone involved is buying into it and if it were to be corrupted no one would buy into it unless forced to—and if people are forced to buy into an extrajudicial system then that’s its own problem). What if some other judge were to just decide to skip closing arguments or decide suddenly a trial was over? That could be unfair in so many different ways.

After the resolution of the case there’s clapping and even Diane is surprised at how reasonable the verdict was.

Wackner then insists that everyone shake hands because “the thing we all crave most is respect and acknowledgement.” They also have to say, “I respect and I love you.” And they do! And no one even seems that unhappy with it Marissa and Toni are super into it.

And, someone in the gallery wants to get Marissa’s number because she did such a good job. Yep, sounds about right.

Diane fills Liz in, and Liz can’t believe it. Liz wants to hire Wackner (jokingly). Then she says she wants Julius since they know and trust him. Diane’s good with that, but she also chooses this moment to playfully let on that she knows Liz slept with Caleb. We’ve seen Diane observe Liz’s reaction to Caleb/mentions of Caleb all episode, and I don’t think it’s coincidental that Diane brings this up now, and in a friendly way. Diane doesn’t need to bring it up. I don’t think Diane needs the answer. I think she just wants to throw Liz off without making it obvious that’s what she’s doing.

I really, really hate to say it, because my whole thing about this season is wanting to see Liz be a great manager, but I don’t... actually think... Liz is a great manager? She’s second-guessing herself far too much. She’s more thrown in this scene than Carmen, who has like two days of experience, is by anything she encounters. And worse, she doesn’t hide it when she’s thrown. I think Liz is very smart and capable, but this episode is a pretty good case for why she might not be able to manage alone.

I know I’ve said that I want to see Liz manage and think she’d be good at it. I still think she could be. But I’ve also tended to think that Liz is a good manager and Adrian talks down at her, and I’ve dismissed some of her less strategic ideas as the fault of the Adrian/Liz dynamic. But nothing in this episode seems out of character, so now I’m less sure. (And to be clear, Liz not being a great manager isn’t a problem with the show, it’s actually pretty interesting to me.)

(Here are some of the things Liz has done in this episode alone that she needs to stop doing to be more effective: 1) Everything about her reaction to Caleb (and the fact she slept with him-- and yes I would, and did, say this about Will too so this is not a double standard!) 2) Not having a clear plan when meeting with the partners, even though she—and not Diane—is the one who is seen as having power. 3) Not being able to hold her own nearly as well as she should be able to with Carmen. I’m curious to see how the other partners hold up, and in fairness to Liz, I may be able to make this criticism of any character who doesn’t just immediately fire Carmen.)

And, I say all of this now because Diane in this scene is SO smart and SO strategic. She mentions Caleb to disarm Liz, then casually notes that she thinks Liz should take the corner office since it’s a black firm.

Liz isn’t sure if she should thank Diane for that (it is a little patronizing) but she does anyway.

Diane has another “last thing” to say, and it’s that she wants to bring on another partner, a black one. She wants to be in the discussion and to retain a name partner position. Liz says yes, as long as she has any power over the decision. This is a very smart move for Diane. It’s a compromise that’s to her benefit, and she makes the request of Liz at exactly the right time. I think Diane likes Liz as a person and wants to work with her, but she’s definitely buttering her up. This is kind of like an audition to show Liz that she should stick with Diane—Diane will be friendly with her! Diane won’t judge (but definitely knows about!) her indiscretions. Diane is reasonable and not power-hungry! Diane is understanding!

(And again, to be clear, I don’t think Liz is falling for Diane’s trap or anything. If Diane is smart enough to plan all this out, Diane is absolutely someone you’d want to keep on as a name partner. It’s just that Diane showing how smart she is, is a pretty stark contrast to Liz getting disrespected by a first-year associate.)

(And, because I feel like I'm being quite harsh on Liz, I don’t think Liz has handled the Carmen situation badly... yet. I just see signs that Carmen is able to shift the balance of power in her favor without really trying, and that Liz is getting flustered. I think Liz mentioning the mentorship is a way of Liz asserting power, and I think/hope that now that Liz knows the situation, she will try to regain control. And, I could very easily see this same plot happening but with Diane—it's just that there are a few other plots where Liz seems flustered in this episode alone, so it feels like a pattern. I’ll be looking out for more of this.)

Marissa and Carmen, both with large folders of casework, get in an elevator together. “So. I guess it begins,” Marissa says as the episode ends. I very much want to see more of Marissa and Carmen interacting. Mostly, I just want to see what Carmen does when she’s in situations that aren’t about representing a client or defending her work. I know what type of lawyer and employee she is, but who is she as a person?

Wow, this might be the most I’ve written about characters on TGF—as opposed to plots—in quite a while. I think that’s what has me so excited about this season. Carmen is interesting as a character because she’s so unique (or, perhaps, because she feels so much like a part of this universe yet so little like any other character—that's why I keep trying to compare her to others and find out where to place her). The 9 ¾ court is interesting because Wackner is so grounded, because it challenges Diane’s sense of reality in a way that’s new and interesting (this whole series is about making reality seem like it’s shifting under your feet; this is a new take on a familiar theme), and because it is a great match for Marissa’s personality and will give her a lot of opportunities for growth. It seems like we’re heading for some interesting material with Diane and Kurt, and there’s been a little bit of a tense undercurrent in their interactions in these first two episodes—I truly can’t tell if it’s supposed to be part of their banter or if there are mounting frustrations; I think the former but could see it being the latter. And, as I’d hoped, Liz is getting a lot more material.

#tgf thoughts #the good fight

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eiressofinspirationwrites · 3 years

Text

Snipers, Snow and Sanctuary Part 2

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Word Count: 1022

Link to Part 1

Description: After a simple mission goes horribly wrong for Agent Whiskey and his partner, one is left gravely injured. Help arrives but is it too late?

****************************************

Ginger and Tequila were shocked when they discovered that you had been shot. They’d expected to find you and Whiskey at each other's throats. Instead, they found you unconscious and Whiskey hovering like a mother hen.

“Are the two of you gonna keep hovering in the door or are you gonna help them?” Whiskey barked as he felt your forehead to find you were burning up, “We gotta get them back to headquarters. It’s been 16 hours since they were shot and they’re running out of time.”

“Holy hell, Whiskey,” Ginger rushed forward to check you over, she peeled back the bandages on your front to examine the wound, “You cleaned this up pretty well. Unfortunately, it’s not the outside that’s a concern now.”

“I know,” Whiskey rolled his eyes, “I’m not stupid, Ginger. They were shot with a damn machine gun. I’d be a fool to not be thinking about the internal bleeding but there’s not much I could do about it in the middle of the woods.”

“How long have they been unconscious?” she asked.

“Only a minute or so,” Whiskey said, “They woke me up when they heard you two pulling up. I got up to see if it was trouble and when I turned back they were passed out.”

“Alright, let’s get them up and out of here,” Ginger said, placing the bandage back, “We have a helicopter waiting a few miles out. We’ll load up there and they’ll have us back at HQ in a few hours. Tequila, go open the cab up so Whiskey can carry Y/n out and load them up easily.”

“You got it,” Tequila tipped his hat and disappeared out the door.

Ginger started to follow after Tequila but Whiskey grabbed her arm, “Ginger. Please tell me they’re gonna be okay.”

“You did a good job patching them up, Whiskey,” Ginger placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “We’ll have them back on their feet in no time.”

Whiskey breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank you.”

********************

The last thing you really remembered hearing before everything went dark was Whiskey saying, “We’re going home.”

There were a few other moments from the trip back to HQ you remember vaguely as you were in and out of consciousness. Most of them having something to do with Whiskey whispering barely audible promises of some sort and in all of them, he was holding your hand. Almost as if it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

Because of that you really shouldn’t have been surprised when you woke up to find your partner sitting at your bedside in the private corner of the Statesmen HQ med bay.

“Goodmorning, Sunshine,” Whiskey gave you a lopsided grin when he saw your eyes flutter open.

“You’re still here,” you said as you tried to blink away the fog clinging to your mind.

“Of course I’m still here,” Whiskey said, “You’re my partner, Y/n. I’m with ya to the end of the line.”

“Alright Captain America,” you gave him a weak laugh, “So, how long have I been out?”

“Couple of days,” Whiskey replied, “You been kinda in and out the whole time but this is the most coherent you’ve been.

“Oh god,” you shuddered to think of what you could have said in your delirious state, “I didn’t embarrass myself too much, did I?”

“Oh I don’t know, you whispered some pretty explicit things in my ear,” Whiskey gave you a mischievous grin but when he saw you blush he laughed, “I’m just kidding, darlin’. You were pretty much incoherent. We couldn’t make out much of what you were sayin.”

“Thank god,” you sighed in relief.

“Now that you’re outta the woods and awake, I suppose I should get to catching up on the paperwork,” Whiskey sighed, “Champ’s been kind enough to let me off the hook while you've been out cold.”

“You really didn’t leave this whole time?” you were taken aback. You knew Whiskey was loyal to those he cared about. You just didn’t realize you were one of them.

“Of course not,” Whiskey got serious, “It’s my fault you were hurt, Y/n. I couldn’t very well leave you. Not until I knew you were okay.”

“Whiskey,” you frowned, “I know I was giving you a hard time about the turn the mission took but me getting shot wasn’t your fault.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, sweetheart,” Whiskey gave you a sad smile, “but if I had listened to you before the mission and made those changes to the plan, we never would have had to run through the forest like that and if we hadn’t had to run for our lives you wouldn’t have been shot.”

“Jack,” Whiskey’s heart soared when he heard you call him by name once again, “Even my plan had room for failure.”

“I guess we’ll never know,” Whiskey’s face dropped, “anyway, don’t let my own personal pity party bring you down. You’re alive and that’s a reason to celebrate! Once you’re back on your feet and off of those pesky pain killers, I’m going to treat you to a night out.”

“Jack, you don’t have to do that,” you shook your head, but a small smile crept onto your face.

Whiskey’s heart stopped when you reached out and grasped his hand he had resting on your bedside. He cleared his throat before speaking, “As much as I’d love to keep chattin’ with you. I really have got to get caught up on some work.”

“Why don’t you bring your paperwork here?” you asked, “I hate hospitals and this med bay is close enough.”

“I’m sure Ginger will want to run some tests and talk to you for a bit,” Whiskey shook his head, “But maybe I’ll take you up on that in a few hours.”

“Okay,” you sighed.

“Now don’t give Ginger too much trouble while I’m gone,” he pointed at you as he backed out of the room.

“You’re the only trouble here, Agent Whiskey,” you shot back as he turned to walk out normally and you heard his laugh just before the doors slid shut behind him.

#whiskey x reader #kingsmen golden circle #pedro pascal #agent whiskey fanfic #agent whiskey #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader

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fallout-drabbles-n-stuff · 4 years

Text

Male Companions React To Their Baby/Babies Not Wanting Them To Leave.

Danse:

“I wish I could stay too, but..for now I trust that you won’t give your brother too hard of a time, right?”

He’d feel absolutely terrible. Having to bend down to peel his little one off his leg they attached themselves to, instead holding them up eye level with him.

Oddly enough, your child seemed to be calmed down when Danse spoke to them. They had all the faith in the world in their dad, even if he still left..they knew he’d be back soon....and usually with some neat artifact that him and their mom/dad banter about how “historic” it was.

However if they ever muster up the courage to let some tears slip? Danse would be beside himself trying to figure out a way not to fail you and derail the mission while also trying to make them stop crying.

Deacon:

“Hey kiddo, chin up. Daddy isn’t going to be gone for long. Look, as soon as I get back we can play hide-and-seek or anything you want, you name it.”

He internally was screaming when his kid stopped him by the door, little tears making their eyes glassy as they looked up at him with a quivering lip.

He wouldn’t allow himself to linger for long, knowing that he’d give in if he didn’t leave soon. However true to his word, he’d make sure to play to their heart’s content when he got back.

Gage:

“Quit that crying nonsense and hurry up. I ain’t going nowhere without ya, kiddo.”

As tough as he wished he would’ve been, he crumbled at the first sign of them crying. If there was one thing to get him to break, it was definitely that.

As such, regardless of just where the hell his daily misadventures took him- there would be his own little “mini me” piddling around. So long as they stay in his eyesight, he’s alright.

Hancock:

“Okay little buddy, you win this round. Let’s go say hi to Aunt Daisy..”

It didn’t take him long at all to crumble. All your babe had to do was grab his coat sleeve, looking up with their best “puppy-dog eyes” as they begged their father not to leave.

Knowing he still had to tend to his mayoral duties, he sighed. Eventually he’d just come to outstanding conclusion to be a major pushover and let them just tag along. Hell, he even let them wear his hat.

It was “training” them. At least that’s what he told himself to not face the fact that a little kid completely runs him. His little kid.

Macready:

“Fine, fine! I’ll stay, just please don’t tell your mom/dad that it’s you guys that made me...”

He has it the worst.

Imagine having to say, “No, I got to go this time” to one child. Okay, now imagine having to say it to three. Between Duncan, Shaun and any other children you may have, there will always be some reason why dad just has to stay home. So, unless it’s something absolutely dire, Mac is forever a stay at home father.

Maxson:

“Well...Dada is going to be really busy today but, how about the both of you tag along?”

His automatic reaction would be to lovingly scold his child, telling them that “daddy had very important things to deal with”. However it dawned on him..was that what his own father said when he was a babe? Was something similar the last words spoken by a man that he couldn’t even remember looked like?

So stopping himself before he said anything he’d regret, he looked down at the little dark haired babies tugging at each side of his battle coat, tears beginning to well in their eyes.

That’s it.

No matter what he was going out to do that day, the officers could expect two baby Maxsons at their father’s side. Imagine your surprise when you boarded the Prydwen with blood all over you and being greeted with your little ones’ hugging each leg of your power armor.

Nick:

“I’m sorry hon, this case is too dangerous to take you along..but uh, how about we go get some power noodles when we get back? Sound good?”

If he knew it would’ve been this hard to work, he might’ve reconsidered having children. Well, not really. Things were just so much easier when he didn’t feel like a traitor for leaving to work a case.

That was exactly what happened when his baby, his precious baby, stopped him in his tracks, asking just where he was going without them. With a whole lot of hesitance, he’d explain just why he couldn’t let them come along this time- hating everyone second of it as he saw the heartbreak in their eyes.

He’d make it right though. Even if it meant going to the ends of the earth while he was still out just to get that one particular flavor of nuka-cola they loved.

Old Longfellow:

“Sheesh, kiddo...I gotta...darn, alright come on. But, don’t tell your ma/pa......I’m getting to old for this.”

Naturally he’s always been the type to get into, if not incite trouble, so why would his child be any different? They weren’t.

As soon as they overheard him saying something about going to take a fishing trip out in the “storm-banks” they just knew they had to go with. Plus, they didn’t want their da leaving them for that long anyways.

So, they’d make sure to grab their ma/da’s helmet and meet him at the door, giving him a stern look and stating just what they wanted. How could he say no? Besides, he knew the waters well enough.

Preston:

“I’m sorry baby girl/boy, but some good people need papa and mama/dada’s help. I promise you I’ll be back soon.”

He’d be honest with them, trying to fight through the tug of his heartstrings when they gave him those “puppy dog eyes.” The sooner they understood, the better after all. So, he’d explain just why him and mama/dada were leaving and why it was important that they be good for “Grandma Murphy”.

Sturges:

“Aw..don’t do that sweetheart, you’re breaking my heart.”

He feels so bad. Being a first time parent leaves room for all kinds of new learning experiences...so far what Sturges learned is that this whole parenting thing is hard.

That was a no-brainer.

One morning his child saw him strap on his overalls, quick to retrieve his toolbox. They connected the dots. As quick as their little legs could take them, they literally blocked off the door and sat down in protest.

It hurt a lot but he eventually had to convince them that he had to go..leaving them more upset than sad. He’ll make it up to them though, having a brand new toy made especially for them.

X6-88:

“These measures you go to are..ruthless.”

Your child would go as far as to stealing his boots and ammunition, refusing to tell him where they put it until he promises to stay just a little while longer. So, X6 is more impressed than he is agitated.

His child learns quickly. How quaint.

Regardless, X6 would still feel a twinge or guilt when he finally leaves. Finding himself unable to think about anything other than reuniting with his little baby, which often leads him to not enjoying this whole “thrill of the hunt” thing as much as he used to.

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buckybarnesdollface · 4 years

Text

The Beach House

Summary: Reader is insecure about her body on a vacation with the Avengers, but a certain supersoldier shows her he thinks she’s stunning.

Warnings: Smut

When Tony had said he was taking the team on a retreat, a private beach house in Malibu certainly hadn’t been what I’d expected. The place was enormous, with over a dozen bedrooms, a home theatre, a pool, and access to its own private beach. After what the team had been through in the past year, Tony had insisted we all deserved to spend a little time relaxing and being pampered.

In all honesty, I felt a little out of place being here with the rest of the Avengers. I’d only been recruited six months ago, and on tenuous terms – I’d originally worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. as a Level 6 agent, although I’d started in Level 5 as a biomechanical engineer. It was my knowledge of biomechanics that landed me at the Avengers compound. The Avengers had been in need of someone familiar with the subject, and Maria Hill – who had been my commander at S.H.I.E.L.D. and whom I’d remained close with after – had recommended me to Tony Stark. He had been reluctant considering him and Maria had been on unsteady terms since he’d fired her from Stark Industries, but when I created an implant for Rhodey that meant he didn’t have to wear the braces to walk I had been eagerly welcomed onto the team.

Since then I had assisted with things such as successfully allowing Vision to hold his human appearance even without the mind stone, helping Dr. Banner control when he changes into the Hulk, and repairing/upgrading the tech in Sergeant Barnes’ arm. My place had initially been strictly in the compound, but when Tony found out I was also trained in espionage I was sent out on a few recon missions. And although in the last six months I had created friendships with the other Avengers, I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I didn’t really belong here.

“You do know that the whole point of bringing the team here was so that we could enjoy the sunshine, right, (Y/N)?” Tony said wryly as he walked into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of scotch. With a glass of lemonade in hand and a book tucked under my arm I had just been about to head to the den to curl up and read, which I explained to Tony. He shook his head.

“You can read outside,” he said. “At least go sit by the pool and be around the rest of the team and act like you want to be here.”

“I do want to be here,” I protested.

“Then get your butt out there. I didn’t spend a fortune on this place for people to sit inside by themselves.”

With a sigh, I allowed Tony to usher me out the patio door. Most of the team was either at the beach or in the city, but Steve and Bucky were in the pool tossing a football back and forth. I took a seat on the wicker rocking chair under the cover of a large umbrella and had just cracked open my book when I noticed that Tony was leaving.

“Where are you going?” I accused, and he grinned.

“Pepper is waiting for me on the beach.”

I glared at him. “Then why did you drag me out here?”

“Because some sun would do you good,” he replied, “and because you have to stop spending so much time alone. Now I gotta go, enjoy!”

He waved as he disappeared down the path that led to the beach, and I was so annoyed I contemplated going back inside just out of spite. It was a beautiful day, though, and I had already settled in so I turned my attention back to my book.

For awhile, it was nice – I read my book while in the background the guys continued their game of catch. It wasn’t as peaceful as being alone, but Steve and Bucky were the two least rowdy members of the team and I’d be lying if I said it bothered me having the two shirtless supersoldiers there. If I was going to be forced into company, at least theirs was unobtrusive and pleasant.

It didn’t take long before more of the team returned, though. Sam came out of the house, having woken from a nap, and Natasha and Wanda had returned from shopping and had decided to come sunbathe by the pool. Suddenly I was feeling less than relaxed. With Sam thrown into the mix, Steve and Bucky’s game of catch was much louder and more aggressive. And with Nat and Wanda, who both looked like poster girls for a Playboy magazine, laying by the pool in the new bikinis they had bought I was feeling even more out of place than usual. I glanced down at the denim shorts and baggy t-shirt I wore and suddenly felt like a whale next to a couple of mermaids.

“Sam, god dammit!” I heard Nat shout and I looked up to see that the football had landed in her lap, spraying her with water. Sam had the decency to look apologetic only for a moment before he snickered.

“Maybe you shouldn’t sit so close to the pool if you don’t want to get wet,” he pointed out.

“Maybe you should learn to throw a football,” Natasha retorted, tossing it back at him with a perfect spiral.

“Those are fighting words,” Bucky taunted, and Sam grinned.

“I propose a match. Guys against girls,” he said. “Losers cook dinner for the winners.”

Wanda shook her head. “There’s only two of us and three of you. That’s unfair.”

“(Y/N)!”

Steve’s voice startled me, and I cursed internally as I looked up to see the five of them looking expectantly at me. I shook my head.

“I’ll pass,” I said. “Football’s not really my thing, and I’m not in the mood for swimming.”

“Oh, c’mon!” Nat said. “It’ll be fun! We can show these boneheads how it’s done.”

“You wish,” Bucky snorted. I shook my head again.

“Really, guys, I’m good. Maybe some other time.”

I was hoping they’d drop it, but of course it was never that easy. “Is it that you can’t swim?” Sam asked.

“I can swim,” I defended. In fact, I normally loved swimming. But with both Natasha and Wanda looking like goddesses in their skimpy bikinis and the three very fit guys, there was no way I was going to go put on my basic one-piece bathing suit and come back down just to feel insecure.

“You haven’t been in the pool once since we got here, (Y/N),” Steve pointed out gently. “There’s got to be a reason.”

“Tony said the retreat was for relaxing,” I replied, a slight bite to my tone. “Your idea of relaxing may be playing games in the pool, but mine is not.”

Steve held up his hands in surrender and I felt bad. He truly was one of the nicest people on the team and I hadn’t meant to snap at him, but my patience had expired and I was starting to resent Tony for forcing me to be more social.

Not knowing what else to say and feeling awkward, I got up and headed inside. I looked out the kitchen window to see that Nat and Wanda had jumped in the pool and the five of them were laughing and having fun. With a pang of jealousy, I retreated to the den with my book.

The next day, I stood in the full-length mirror in my room and stared at my reflection. I’d put on my bathing suit – a black one-piece with a corseted neckline that showed a modest bit of cleavage. Although it did make my breasts look good, I couldn’t help but take note of everything I hated – the less-than-flat tummy, the cellulite on my thighs, the rolls that even the black material couldn’t hide…I thought of how Natasha and Wanda had looked in their bikinis, and a noise of disgust pushed its way from my throat. I peeled the bathing suit off and threw on some shorts and my old Star Wars t-shirt before making my way downstairs and out the patio door to the deck.

It was still fairly early, the morning sun warm and the birds chirping. Most of the team was still asleep or watching TV in their pyjamas so I had the backyard to myself. I walked over to the pool and sat down on the edge, letting my bare feet dangle in the water. It was cool but not cold, just enough to feel refreshing in the Malibu heat. I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, letting the sun warm my face.

“I…I don’t mean to intrude,” a soft voice said behind me, and I turned to find Bucky standing there with an apologetic look on his face. “Steve made breakfast; he saw you were awake and was wondering if you wanted some.”

I blushed and ducked my head, embarrassed that he’d caught me in a vulnerable moment. “Uh, yeah, sure,” I said. “I’ll be right in.”

Bucky nodded and then headed back inside. I waited a moment and then followed.

Later that night, we decided to throw a party on the beach to celebrate our last night in Malibu before returning to New York and to work. A big bonfire roared on the beach, and some of the team had started a game of beach volleyball. Clint and Scott were manning the barbecue, and the guys were pounding back hamburgers and hot dogs as quickly as they could make them. I had to admit it was nice seeing the whole team so carefree and having fun. I even convinced myself to join in on a game of volleyball with Peter, Wanda and Thor, and found myself laughing as Thor tried to rein in his strength to make it a more even playing field.

As it got dark the party only intensified, but I found myself growing tired of the prolonged social interaction. Waiting until I was sure no one would notice, I slipped away from the party and made my way back up to the house.

At night the back deck was lit with thousands of fairy lights. I once again sat down on the edge of the pool, contemplating going for a swim while everyone else was down on the beach, but before I could get up to change into my bathing suit a shadowy figure appeared on the path. I stiffened, but when he stepped into the light and I saw it was Bucky I relaxed slightly.

“This feels like deja-vu,” he chuckled, and I gave him a small, shy smile.

“How come you aren’t at the party?”

“I saw you leave. I wanted to make sure everything was alright.”

I flushed as a weird feeling blossomed in my stomach. “I’m fine,” I assured him. “Just needed some air. I love the team, but sometimes these parties can be…”

“A little too much?” Bucky finished for me and I nodded. He gave me a small smile before coming to sit next to me, dipping his own feet in the water. He stared down towards the beach as he spoke. “I know better than most how it feels to be overwhelmed around people,” he murmured. “I know how easy it is to isolate yourself when you’re the newest team member and you feel out of place, but trust me when I say that everyone wants nothing more than to make you feel like a part of the family. Speaking from experience, they will keep trying to include you in things until you cave and just go with it.”

I pursed my lips and shook my head. “I don’t isolate myself –”

“(Y/N), c’mon. If you aren’t on a mission or in your lab working, you’re off somewhere alone with your nose buried in a book.” Bucky chuckled. “I get it, it’s tough when everyone else already has a history with each other. But the team thinks you’re great. Trust me.”

I finally turned my head towards him to find he was already looking at me. I bit my lip, my cheeks still warm.

“When I was a part of S.H.I.E.L.D.,” I explained, “I felt like I was on an even playing field with everyone else. Sure, there were those with higher clearances than me, but we were all just human. But now…” I trailed off. “I’m surrounded by highly trained assassins and the world’s smartest people and superhumans and a god. Of course I’m going to feel out of place, I’m the least qualified to be here.”

Bucky’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “If you were unqualified to be a part of the team, (Y/N), then Maria would have never suggested you for the job and Tony would have never recruited you. The team is lucky to have you.” He grinned and flexed his metal arm. “Besides, if it weren’t for you, I would have to go all the way to Wakanda whenever I needed maintenance on this thing. You certainly give Shuri a run for her money.”

For what felt like the hundredth time that night I blushed. Bucky and I had been alone together on a few occasions when I was working on his arm, but this felt different. It was personal, and if I was being honest, I’d had a small crush on the supersoldier since I’d met him six months ago. I was suddenly highly aware of the fact that we were alone.

“So this is the second time I’ve found you out here by the pool,” he pointed out after a moment of silence. “I know you like to swim, (Y/N); you use the pool at the compound all the time.”

I shot him a confused look. “How did you –”

“You aren’t the only one awake at ungodly hours,” he chuckled. “I have a hard time sleeping. Nightmares. I’ve seen you sneak to or from the pool on a few occasions.” He shook his head. “So why were you so reluctant to swim here? The pool here is so much nicer than the one at the compound.”

Suddenly my throat was dry and I turned my head away from him. “If I tell you, you’ll think it’s stupid,” I mumbled.

“I promise I won’t. Tell me, (Y/N).”

“I just…I don’t feel comfortable around the team,” I admitted, my eyes trained on my lap. “Everyone is all so in shape. Hell, Nat and Wanda look like frigging supermodels walking around here in their bikinis. And then there’s me. I already feel like an outsider, but if I was next to them in their bikinis, I just…I couldn’t do it. It’d just make me feel worse about myself.”

For a moment we sat in silence, but I could feel Bucky’s eyes on me. I had never told anyone about my insecurities like that before, especially not to a man as gorgeous as Bucky Barnes. When he still hadn’t spoken I began to panic, worried I’d made a mistake in opening up, but finally his soft voice broke through the silence.

“(Y/N)…(Y/N), look at me.”

When I didn’t move, he shifted his body towards me and then lifted his flesh hand to take my chin gently between his thumb and forefinger to direct my gaze to his. His blue eyes were soft as he looked at me.

“Are you kidding me?” he breathed. “You wouldn’t join us in the pool because you were scared of what people would think of you in a swimsuit?”

I frowned and pulled away from him. “You don’t get it,” I snapped. “You’re just as in shape as the rest of them, if not more so. I’m the only one on the team without abs.”

Bucky shook his head. “Do you think you’re the only one with insecurities, doll? We’ve all got ‘em,” he said to me. “You seem to think that Natasha is so perfect, for example, but you know how much she hates that scar on her abdomen from the time I shot her.”

I shook my head. “It’s a little scar, I don’t know why it’s such a big deal to her.”

“And what about me? Do you know how long it took me to feel even somewhat comfortable wearing short-sleeved shirts, let alone no shirt at all, around the team? I was ashamed of my arm and I hated the scarring on my shoulder from it. A year ago, I wouldn’t have been in this pool because I always felt like everyone was staring. But you know what? I was tired of missing out on things because of my anxiety and I quickly found out that everyone on the team had better things to do than judge me about a metal arm and some scarring.”

“I know it sounds ridiculous,” I groaned. “But it’s the way I feel. Whenever I’m around the two of them I feel like a boulder next to diamonds.”

Bucky snorted, and I glared at him. He shook his head apologetically. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that you think you’re any less beautiful than Natasha or Wanda.”

“I’m not blind,” I retorted. “They have supermodel bodies. I can’t compete with that.”

“Why do you feel like you have to? This isn’t a competition, (Y/N). Your size doesn’t determine your worth as an Avenger or as a person, so it shouldn’t matter.” He grinned before standing and tugging his t-shirt over his head. “And for what it’s worth,” he said as he tossed the shirt onto the deck, “back in my day, a woman with a body like yours drove men wild.”

My eyes widened as I felt the blood rush to my face. “What are you doing?” I asked him.

“Going for a swim. You gonna join me?”

I shook my head in protest. “I’m not wearing a bathing suit…”

“Neither am I,” he laughed. “That’s what underwear are for.” Bucky slid his shorts from his hips, leaving him in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. He grinned mischievously at me before jumping into the pool. “C’mon!” he called when he resurfaced.

“Bucky, I don’t…I can’t…” I stammered, but he was already swimming over to me. He stood, his hands on the concrete on either side of my thighs as he looked up at me.

“Come on, (Y/N),” he murmured. “Please? Just let yourself be carefree for once. If it makes you feel better, I won’t look until you’re in the pool.”

I pursed my lips, but there was no way I could say no to him, not when he was looking at me like that with those impossibly blue eyes. Finally, I rolled my eyes and groaned.

“Fine.” I said. “But turn around. Don’t move until I say.”

Bucky obeyed, a grin on his face, and I stood up to yank the t-shirt over my shoulders before shimmying out of my shorts. For a minute I stood there with my arms crossed over my chest, feeling terrifyingly exposed. At least I had thought to put on my matching black lace bra and panties earlier that night. Taking a deep breath, I slipped into the water quietly, making sure the water was deep enough to come up past my chest before I spoke.

“Okay,” I said softly, and Bucky turned. He grinned at me.

“Was that so hard?” he teased.

“Harder than it should have been,” I admitted, and Bucky’s grin turned into a sympathetic smile.

“I don’t want you to ever feel insecure or uncomfortable around me, (Y/N). I’ve always got your back, okay?”

I could only nod, at a loss for words. Hesitating, I let myself step deeper into the pool until my feet no longer reached the bottom and I had no choice but to swim. I had to admit it felt good; swimming had always been my favourite way to relax.

“So, are you sure you don’t mind missing the party?” I asked Bucky as I swam a lap around the pool. He shook his head.

“Nah, I’m happy where I’m at right now.”

Warmth spread through my body, and I smiled to myself. We swam in comfortable silence for a little bit, just enjoying the peace and quiet. At one point I came up for air, pushing the hair back from my face and not realizing I’d come up in the shallow end and the water barely reached my hips. I opened my eyes and found Bucky standing a few feet away, his eyes locked on me and his jaw slack.

Cheeks burning, I quickly dropped to my knees in the water and wrapped my arms around myself tightly, horrified. “You’re staring,” I accused in a shaky voice, and Bucky’s eyes widened as if he’d just realized what he’d done.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to, (Y/N). It’s just…you’re…”

He was rambling, clearly uncomfortable, and I frowned as tears stung the backs of my eyes. “I get it,” I muttered, but Bucky shook his head.

“I don’t think you do get it, doll,” he murmured, his voice huskier than it had been before. When my brow furrowed, he took a couple of steps towards me, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “It blows my mind just how much you don’t get it.”

“Do you have a point to make,” I snapped weakly, “or are you just going to keep making me feel shitty about myself?”

“You have no reason to feel shitty about yourself, (Y/N); especially not with me.” He took another step closer, then another. “You’re perfect.”

“Wait…what?” I shook my head, confused. “Bucky, what the hell are you talking about?”

“You, silly girl. I’m talking about you,” he murmured. “You’re beautiful. I’ve thought so since the first time I laid eyes on you, and it kills me that you don’t see it. If you could see what I see, see how absolutely stunning you are…”

At this point my head was swimming. This was a joke; he was messing with me, knowing that I was at my most vulnerable right now.

But Bucky wouldn’t do that – He was one of the kindest people I knew. And all I had to do was look at his eyes to know he was being sincere.

“Why?” I whispered.

“Why what?”

“Why me? You could have any girl you wanted…”

“I want you, (Y/N),” he insisted. By now he was standing in front of me, and when I wouldn’t stand he sank to his knees so we were more at eye level. “I don’t know how to say it to make you believe me, but I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and god, I would spend every day of my life making sure you knew it if you’d let me.”

For a minute I couldn’t speak. I just stared at him, shocked as a lump formed in my throat, and then tears were spilling down my cheeks. Bucky’s eyes widened.

“Don’t cry, doll, shit. Did I say something wrong?” he breathed. “I didn’t mean to upset you…”

“No,” I said, shaking my head as I swiped at my tears in embarrassment. “You did nothing wrong, Bucky. I just…I keep waiting to find out this is all a joke but you’re serious, aren’t you?”

Bucky’s face softened. “Of course I’m serious! I’ve been wanting to tell you this for months but I just never knew how.” He chuckled, his cheeks tinted a light pink. “You’ve got no idea what you do to me, doll. Walking around the compound in those leggings and your loose t-shirts, hinting at what’s underneath. You’re sexier all covered up than those other girls are in their bikinis.” He bit his lip. “Do you know how many times I’ve had to leave the gym while you’re training because of what you do to me?”

Heat flooded my body, and if I weren’t already on my knees those words certainly would have brought me to them.

“Bucky…”

“I don’t want you to think I got you into the pool just so I could get you to take your clothes off,” he said quickly, looking suddenly embarrassed. “I truly did just want to help you move past your insecurities. But then I saw you and honest to god, doll, you took my breath away.”

I ducked my head. “Not even a part of you wished I was thinner?” I asked in a quiet voice. Bucky reached out to cup my cheeks in his hands.

“Absolutely not,” he said firmly. “I grew up in a different time, doll. One where women had curves and were desired even more for it.” His hands slid from my face to my shoulders, then down my back to rest on my waist. The contrast between the warmth of his flesh and the chill of the vibranium sent shivers through me, and he grinned. “Besides,” he murmured, “I like having something to grab onto when I’m with a woman.”

Bucky’s fingers dug gently into the flesh of my waist and I inhaled sharply. He held my eyes and I could feel heat pooling in my stomach as I watched the blue in his eyes slowly turn black as the reflection of the fairy lights made them glitter.

“Bucky?” I whispered breathlessly.

“Mmm, doll?”

“Kiss me.”

Bucky’s grip tightened on my waist as he pulled me closer, and then he inclined his head until his lips just barely brushed over mine. He waited a few seconds, uncertain, but when my hands reached up to clasp behind his neck and pull him back to me his lips pressed against mine with more pressure. My fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging gently, and Bucky groaned into my mouth, giving my tongue access to explore. I dragged it lightly over his bottom lip before touching it to his, and suddenly we were no longer on our knees. Bucky had pulled me up and lifted me into his arms, my legs straddling his waist as he carried me over to the edge of the pool. He sat me down, his body still between my legs, and kissed me with fresh vigor as his hands roamed over my thighs.

I broke the kiss, ducking my head. Suddenly I felt too exposed and Bucky could tell because he took his hands from my thighs to instead intertwine them with my own hands.

“(Y/N), hey,” he murmured. “It’s okay, if you don’t want to do this…”

I shook my head. “It’s not that, I just…” I trailed off, biting my lip. The next thing I knew, Bucky was lifting my hand to lay it flat against his chest, right where flesh met metal. My eyes widened slightly and he gave me a small smile.

“Bucky…” I whispered. I had touched the arm countless times when I was doing maintenance on it, but he had made it very clear from the beginning that no one was to touch the scars. And now here he was, encouraging me to do so.

“It’s okay, doll,” he murmured, his voice husky. Hesitating, I ran my fingertips lightly over the puckered skin, still an angry pink even all these years later. I could feel him shiver underneath me but he didn’t move, his eyes trained on my face as I traced the jagged lines.

“Do they still hurt?” I asked quietly, and Bucky shook his head.

“Not really. Once in awhile I’ll get a ghost pain as a reminder of how it happened, but more than anything it’s just ugly.”

I leaned in to press my lips softly to the scars. “Nothing about you is ugly.”

Bucky pulled my lips back to his as his hands slid back to my thighs. “That’s the point I’m trying to make, doll,” he murmured. “I could say the same thing about you.” He slid his hands further up my thighs and I could feel my body reacting to his touch. The heat in my stomach had returned and my body shifted until I was pressed against him, my legs wrapping around his torso while he deepened the kiss. His hands moved from my thighs to my hips, fingertips gliding over my flesh and sending shivers up and down my spine.

When his fingers reached the clasp of my bra I froze, and he pulled back from me to meet my eyes. “If you want me to stop…”

“No, I don’t, but…right here? Bucky, we could get caught…”

He shook his head. “Everyone’s too wrapped up in the party, no one will bother us for awhile.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

With a noise that could only be described as a growl, Bucky was climbing out of the pool and pulling me to my feet. Before I knew it his hands slid under my thighs and he lifted me up as if I weighed no more than a bag of flour, wrapping my legs around his waist and carrying me towards the house. Shifting my weight to one arm to open the door, his lips attacked mine as soon as we were inside. My hands tangled in his hair as our lips fought each other for dominance, and when my legs tightened around Bucky’s waist he backed into a table and knocked a vase of flowers to the floor. It shattered and Bucky disconnected his lips from mine in annoyance.

“Shit,” he swore as I giggled.

“You might wanna be more careful, Sergeant,” I teased. “Tony’s probably gonna get charged for that.”

Bucky’s eyes met mine, blue irises nearly swallowed whole by his pupils. “Call me that again,” he growled, and I arched an eyebrow.

“Sergeant?”

“Fuck,” he groaned, his fingers digging into the flesh of my thighs as my back hit a wall. His mouth was all over me and his touch was dizzying, and I tightened my grip on his shoulders. I could feel my control fading, more quickly than it ever had with anyone else. I pulled my lips away from him with a gasp.

“If we don’t get to a bedroom right now,” I said to him, “then someone’s gonna walk into this kitchen and get a show they aren’t expecting.”

With a wicked smirk, Bucky made for the stairs and took them two at a time. His room was closer and we crashed through the door, lips still locked together and hands exploring hot, damp skin. Bucky kicked the door closed behind us and then set me on my feet, hands still lingering at my waist.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured huskily, and my cheeks burned. Suddenly I was shy again and my legs felt weak. I set a hand on his arm to steady myself and his grip on my waist tightened. “(Y/N), if you don’t want to do this we can stop right now,” he said in a quiet voice, his tone gentle and sincere. “I would never ask you to do something you don’t want to do.” He lifted one hand to brush a wet strand of hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear. “All I want is for you to know how stunning I think you are.”

My breath hitched and I looked up to meet his ocean-blue eyes. “I do want this,” I whispered. “I want you, Buck. More than anything.”

“That’s all I needed to hear,” Bucky murmured, and then he was leaning in to kiss me. It wasn’t like the other kisses, that had been all passion and lust; no, this one was soft and sweet and fueled by pure emotion. When he slowly pulled away, he nuzzled his nose against mine affectionately before meeting my eyes.

“It would be so easy to just ravage you right now,” he said in a low, even voice that sent shivers through my body, “but shit, doll, I want to do this right. I wanna take it slow and memorize every inch of you, have you squirming underneath me till you’re beggin’ me to stop and I’ve ruined you for all other men.”

As he spoke his Brooklyn accent came through and that, paired with his words, sent a wave of heat crashing through my body. I couldn’t stop the whimper from escaping my mouth, and Bucky’s lips curved into a smirk.

“That sound good, baby doll? You want it nice and slow? Want me to ruin you so I’ll be the only one to ever be able to satisfy you again?”

I had never heard Bucky talk like this; I hadn’t even known this side of Bucky existed. He was usually so reserved, and on the occasion that he did let his guard down he was still the early twentieth-century gentleman he had been raised to be. But this…Now I was starting to understand why Steve was always saying that Bucky had been such a ladies’ man back in the day. If he’d talked like this to any woman, she would’ve been lifting her skirts for him in seconds.

I wanted to say something witty, something along the lines of “Why don’t you use that talented tongue of yours for something else,” but in that moment my wits had completely escaped me and I was a hot, flustered mess. Instead, I barely managed to muster a breathless “Yes” as I looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. He lifted his flesh hand to run a calloused thumb over my lips. In a brief moment of bravery, I grazed his thumb with my teeth and then sucked it into my mouth, my eyes not leaving his.

Bucky’s eyes widened. “Shit, doll,” he swore softly, and then his hands were tugging me closer until my body was flush with his. His hands moved to grip the flesh of my backside, one cold and one hot on my skin, and I moaned into his mouth as he kissed me. I could feel the outline of his manhood against my hip, solid and large, and when I shifted against it his hands on me tightened.

He backed me up until my legs hit the bed and then he was lowering me onto the mattress, crawling up after me until his body hovered above mine. He held my eyes for the briefest of moments and then I was pulling him back into a kiss. He pressed his hips down into mine and in return I bucked up into him, craving the friction I needed to relieve the pressure building inside me.

Bucky slid a hand underneath me to undo the clasp of my bra with deft fingers, and then he broke our kiss to trail his lips down my throat to my collarbone as he slid the damp garment from my shoulders. My nipples, hard from a combination of the cool dampness of my bra and my arousal, stood erect as my chest heaved with ragged breaths. Bucky’s eyes were pools of black in the dark room, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he drank in the sight before him.

“Touch me,” I begged in a raspy whisper, and then his hands were on me – one cool and smooth and the other hot and rough – roaming over my curves but purposely avoiding my breasts. He finally cupped them softly, fingers kneading flesh, and when his thumbs brushed over my nipples, I arched up into him with a soft moan.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured. “Promise I’ll take real good care of you, doll.”

His hands slid down my body at an agonizing pace, and with them so did his mouth. He latched onto a nipple and sucked it gently into his mouth and his name left my lips in a breathless plea. He moved onto the other nipple, his hands slowly sliding further down my body. When the fingertips of his metal hand reached the waistband of my underwear he hesitated, his eyes meeting mine.

“Tell me what you want, doll,” he murmured.

“I want you…” I whined, but Bucky shook his head.

“That could mean anything. I need you to tell me exactly what you want; I’m not doing anything until you do.”

I was so strung out already and he’d barely even touched me – I wasn’t even sure I could form coherent sentences at the moment. “Your hand,” I managed to rasp, and when his flesh hand inched up my thigh I shook my head and reached out to grasp his wrist. “No. The metal one.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “(Y/N), I –” he choked, but I cut him off.

“You asked what I wanted,” I pointed out, and then in a softer voice I added, “Please.”

Blue eyes burned as his left hand slid up my thigh slowly, pushing the black lace aside and exposing the heat between my legs. He let out an almost-silent groan at the sight.

“Already so wet for me, doll,” he whispered, voice thick with desire. His metal digits swiped through my wetness, spreading it over my folds, and I let out a shuddering whimper at the contrast of his cool fingers on my aching heat. He continued to run his fingertips through my folds, and once he was satisfied he sank one and then two fingers into me, drawing out an obscenely embarrassing moan from my lips.

“Don’t hold back, doll,” he murmured. “I wanna hear every pretty little noise that comes out of that pretty little mouth.”

As he spoke, Bucky flexed his fingers inside me and I cried out, back arching off the mattress. He smirked.

“So tight, doll,” he praised. “Gonna feel so good around me when I’m inside you.”

“Bucky…” I whimpered, and when he pulled his fingers out of me I let out an exasperated whine that set him to chuckling.

“Don’t worry, doll, it’s only for a second,” he assured me, and then he was on his knees between my legs and tugging my damp panties from my hips. “I gotta make sure you’re good and ready for me, you’re so tight I wanna make sure I don’t hurt you.”

I didn’t have time to respond before two thick metal digits were once again filling me up and his tongue left a hot, wet stripe up my folds to my clit. I let out a strangled gasp, hips bucking up into his face as my hands instinctively tangled in his damp hair. I tugged on the dark locks and Bucky groaned against my folds, sending vibrations through me that freshly slickened his fingers and tongue. He began to slide his metal fingers in and out of me at a steady pace, not rough but not exactly gentle either, and the feel of his fingers curling against my inner walls combined with the way his tongue drank down everything I had to offer him and his lips wrapped around my clit had me on the edge in no time. With one last hard suck my moan evolved into a strangled scream, his name falling from my lips in heated ecstasy. He brought me down with kitten licks as his fingers slowed, and then his teeth nipped the inside of my thigh affectionately before he slid up my body to kiss me languorously.

I could taste myself on Bucky’s lips and it fueled my desire. I locked my legs around his waist, grinding my still-sensitive wet heat against the bulge in his boxer briefs. He let out a grunt and rolled his hips into mine, teeth grazing the skin of my throat.

“No more teasing,” I said breathily. “Need you inside me…Now. Please, Buck, I can’t wait another second…”

Not needing to be told twice, Bucky shed his boxer briefs and then his body was over mine again. I could feel his length, hot, heavy and solid against my hip, and I reached down between us to take him into my hand. Bucky let out a small hiss, and butterflies filled my stomach when I realized how large he was. Now I understood his comment about getting me ready had been more than just dirty talk. As I slid his length through my slick folds to coat it in my juices, though, I concluded that he would have no trouble; the feel of his hard cock against me was enough to have me dripping with fresh arousal.

“(Y/N), fuck,” he said through clenched teeth, and with a demure smile I lined him up with my entrance and let go of him.

“Ruin me, Sergeant,” I murmured, and with a purely animalistic growl Bucky sheathed himself fully in me in one slow thrust.

We both let out long, low groans, and Bucky held himself still as I squeezed my eyes shut and adjusted to his size. The stretch of my walls around him bordered on painful, but it was overshadowed by the deliciously satisfying feeling of being so completely full of such a beautiful man. A beautiful man who was looking down at me with both undeniable adoration and feverish restraint.

“Just tell me…just tell me when,” Bucky grunted, and I realized he had been holding his breath. Wickedly, I squeezed my walls around him and he gasped, blue eyes wide as he let out a string of curses from his kiss-swollen lips. He fixed a glare on me and shook his head. “Do that again, doll, and this is gonna be over before we’ve even had a chance to start.”

“So start, then,” I said in exasperation, and with a glint in his eyes Bucky pulled out almost all the way only to thrust back into me with force, knocking the breath out of me. In a few thrusts I was matching Bucky’s rhythm, hands on his back pulling him as close as humanly possible to me as nails dug into flesh.

The room quickly filled with the grunts and moans of passion, accompanied by the sound of skin on skin. Bucky’s hands slid under my thighs to lift my legs and wrap them around his waist – This new angle not only let him hit that elusive spot in me that even I often had a hard time finding, but it also had his pubic bone grinding against my clit every time he pounded into me. Within seconds this new position had me keening, and Bucky grinned down at me before nuzzling his face against my neck.

“That feel good does it, baby girl?” he panted into my ear, every word punctuated by a calculated thrust of his unforgiving length into my yielding heat. “You got me so fucking hard, seein’ how wrecked you are underneath me. Wanna draw those pretty noises from you all night long till everyone knows how good I make you feel.”

“Bucky…” I whined, nails biting deeper into the taut flesh of his back as he drove into me fiercely. “Buck, I’m…”

As quick as he started, his movements stopped. I opened my mouth to protest, breathless and hopelessly strung out, but with his length still inside me he flipped us over so I was straddling his hips. In this position I could feel him even deeper inside me, something I hadn’t thought possible, and with a moan my head fell back. I could feel him chuckle beneath me, and then his hands were on my hips and he was rocking me against him slowly.

I took over the movements, grinding my hips against his until we were both groaning in pleasure. Bucky’s hands slid up my thighs, over every curve and up to my breasts. He took them into his large hands and brushed his thumbs over my nipples, bringing a breathless moan from my lips as I arched into his touch.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, and the softness of his tone had me opening my eyes to see that he was looking up at me with absolute adoration shining in his eyes as his thumbs traced across my breasts, still cupped in his hands. It was in that moment that I realized this had not been a heat-of-the-moment thing, nor did he intend for it to be a casual thing. This man – this beautiful, remarkable, supersoldier of a man – was as infatuated with me as I was with him. Dizzy with this revelation, I placed my palms flat on his hard chest to steady myself.

Bucky rolled his hips up into mine gently, and then with more vigor as the seconds passed. It took no time at all for me to find myself on the edge of release. I could tell Bucky was close, too; his thrusts, which had been delivered with precision up until now, were sloppier and more erratic. I leaned down to capture his lips in a fiery kiss.

“Come for me,” I panted, my voice barely above a whisper. “Come for me, Buck, I wanna feel you.”

He let out a soft curse in what sounded like Romanian, and then one hand was on my waist pulling me onto him while he drove up into me, while his flesh hand snaked between us so he could press his thumb onto my still-sensitive bud. That did it, and with a cry I came undone. Bucky was only a few seconds longer, spilling into me with a quiet groan that sent a small wave of heat through my spent body.

Exhausted in the best way possible, I collapsed on Bucky’s chest, and his arms wound around me to hold me closer to himself. He rolled us over so that I was more comfortably snuggled into his side, smoothing my damp hair away from my face and pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. It was like that that I fell asleep, the soft rise and fall of his chest lulling me into a peaceful slumber.

A sharp knock on the door woke me up the next morning. Sometime through the night Bucky must have pulled the covers over us, but now I poked my head anxiously out from under the cocoon he had created. Another knock sounded, and this time I sat up and elbowed Bucky in the side. He let out a grunt in annoyance, still half-asleep, when Steve’s voice followed the knock.

“Buck, are you awake in there? C’mon, Tony’s rounding everyone up. He wants to leave by eleven.”

At this Bucky’s eyes opened, and he glared at the door. “I’ll be on time,” he snapped. “Worry about yourself, punk. I just have to pack.”

Steve muttered an indistinguishable response. When Bucky was sure he was gone he rolled over to nuzzle his face against my neck, arms pulling me tight to him.

“Mornin’, doll,” he murmured into my skin, sending a shiver through me.

“Morning,” I replied, the feel of his lips on me temporarily making me forget we had just almost been caught. I wanted to continue where we had left off the night before, but I knew that Tony was very strict in his scheduling and the clock on Bucky’s nightstand said it was already ten-thirty. Reluctantly, I went to pull away from Bucky, but his arms around me tightened.

“Not yet,” he mumbled, metal hand skimming over the skin of my hip and raising goosebumps. “We still have time.”

“Buck, I still have to pack,” I protested unconvincingly. “Besides, Steve almost caught us…”

As if on cue, more voices sounded out in the hallway. “Has anyone seen (Y/N)?” Wanda asked. “She isn’t in her room.”

“She left the party early last night, haven’t seen her since,” Peter replied, and I cursed under my breath. As I went to sit up, Bucky’s door swung open and Steve’s large form filled the door frame. His eyes widened as he took in Bucky and I together in bed, me holding the blankets up to hide my nakedness, and then our underwear discarded on the floor. Shock quickly dissipated into a mischievous smirk, but he at least had the decency to blush. Before anyone could say anything, Sam’s voice was yelling up the stairs.

“Yo, I think I know where (Y/N) is!” he said, glee underlining his tone as he jogged up the stairs. When he caught Steve standing in the doorway and Bucky and I in the bed with flushed cheeks, a shit-eating grin spread across his face.

He tossed something onto the bed, and I realized it was the clothes we’d left by the pool the night before. “I figured you’d need those before you snuck back to your own room,” he said to me with a wink, and then he turned to Steve. “C’mon, Cap, let’s leave these two to get dressed.”

Both of them fixing us with one more smirk, they shut the door and we were alone again. I buried my face in my hands with a groan, but all of a sudden I was on my back and Bucky was on top of me.

“Well,” he murmured, “since everyone knows we might as well make a good impression.”

I grinned up at him. “You’ve got fifteen minutes before Tony storms in here and drags us onto that quinjet by our ears,” I teased. “Think you can manage that?”

“Oh, doll, fifteen minutes is plenty of time to let everyone know you belong to me.”

#bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes reader #bucky barnes #bucky reader smut #smut #avengers #mcu #beach house

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imaginetonyandbucky · 3 years

Text

(Give Me A) Reason To Live

Chapter 2

by @dracusfyre

“Do you know where they are planning to take him?” James asked as he headed for the stairs up to his room. Tony started to follow him then realized that James was going to drop his towel to get dressed and after a moment of temptation, stayed at the bottom of the stairs instead.

“SHIELD facility in New York,” Tony called up, trying very hard to concentrate on anything except what his imagination was currently trying to show him regarding a naked James next to a bed.

“SHIELD SHIELD, or Hydra SHIELD?” James said from above, voice slightly muffled.

“SHIELD SHIELD, as far as I can tell,” Tony said. “Fury himself is taking the lead, for now. But there’s always the question of what will happen after he wakes up, and I’m sure Hydra will be trying to weasel themselves into those plans.”

“True.” James jogged back down the stairs, his shirt clinging to damp skin and hair pulled away from his face. “So what do you think? Intercept before or after he wakes up?”

“After, I think.” Tony led him downstairs to the lab, where James had his own computer setup. He sat down at it and powered it on while Tony fired up the fancy coffee machine in the back of the room. “I mean, we have no idea how to thaw out someone safely, and no equipment to do so if we did.”

“True.” James pulled up the Hydra files and read the message that had sent Tony racing up the stairs, then started searching for the exact location of the Valkyrie and the NY SHIELD office to start planning. After a few weeks of fits and starts due to poor communication, they had finally settled into a good division of labor: Tony dug through the files for appropriate targets and when he had them, James would come up with the actual plan of attack. “The exfil will be a lot easier if he’s awake.”

Tony nodded and silence reigned for a long time, broken only by the sound of keyboards and James occasionally making notes. He didn’t realize he had fallen asleep at his desk until James shook him awake and herded him to bed. He’d been having a dream about Captain America, some fuzzy half-remembered thing where the man was scolding him for something, then he had turned into Tony’s father and sent Tony to his room. You didn’t have to be a shrink to pick up on that symbolism, Tony thought as he fell into bed.

“You should get undressed,” James said and Tony froze, suddenly wide awake as his heart hammered. Did he really…?

“What?” He managed, rolling over to look up at James.

Who raised an eyebrow and pointed to Tony’s feet. “You’re still wearing the shoes we went hiking in,” he pointed out, and Tony let his head fall back against the pillows as his face got hot.

“Right,” he mumbled, and toed them off to fall on the floor. James was still standing there, looking expectant, so with a put-upon sigh Tony sat up and started peeling off the rest of his clothes as well.

“This is going to change everything, isn’t it?” he said as James started to leave. “This thing with Cap?”

James hesitated at the door, the hand on the door frame gleaming in the dim light from the computers in the next room. “Get some sleep, Tony,” he said after a moment. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

There was that sick feeling again. Tony tossed his clothes in the corner and fell back into bed, and recited the digits of pi until he fell asleep.

~~~~~

By the time Tony woke up and stumbled up the stairs, James was awake and thankfully already making breakfast. He shuffled up to the kitchen table and muttered a thanks as James slid a cup of coffee across the table. James knew better than to attempt conversation before Tony was ready, so they sat and ate in silence until Tony was finally awake enough to say, “Any news?”

“Nothing much. They needed special equipment to break through the ice without destabilizing the plane and sending it to the bottom of the ocean,” James said between bites of pancake.

“So we’ve got time?”

“Little bit.”

“Got a plan?” At that, James tilted his head back and forth in an eh, sort of motion. “What do you need?”

“More intel.”

Tony just grunted and finished off his coffee. If James still had questions they would be ready and waiting for Tony downstairs, and since they had time, Tony needed at least one more cup of coffee before dealing with that. He pushed away from the table and put his plate in the dishwasher, then refilled his coffee and sat back down while James kept eating. This was another good system that they’d figured out over the past year; James ate twice as much as Tony, at least, to power that supersoldier metabolism, which worked out because by the time James was done eating, Tony was finished with his second cup of coffee and they were both ready to start the day. “Hey, where’s he going to sleep?” Tony blurted out without thinking, then cringed. “Nevermind, that’s a stupid question.”

James just shrugged as he used his last bite to sop up some maple syrup. “Dunno. One of us will have to double bunk with someone, or take the couch, or get another mattress. Does it matter?”

“No, of course not.”

But James was eyeing him thoughtfully. “Is that what you meant? Last night?”

“Huh?”

“You said this was going to change everything.”

“Oh.” Tony looked down at his coffee cup to avoid James’ eyes. “I, uh, I meant we’re not going to be able to fly under the radar anymore, you know? After stealing Captain America out from under SHIELD and Hydra’s noses.”

“True.” As James picked up his plate and put it in the dishwasher as well, he said, “You should call him Steve. We’re rescuing Steve Rogers, not Captain America.”

Right. Of course. Like Tony could forget that James and Cap- Steve had a past. “Yeah, sure, sorry,” Tony muttered, taking a sip of coffee against the sour taste in his mouth. “I’ll head downstairs and get started on that intel.”

Once downstairs, he could see why James had left these questions to him. Questions like finding the building plans for the SHIELD facility and learning which personnel were going to be assigned to Steve were going to take some hacking to find out. Fortunately, when it came to SHIELD, Hydra was already infested in their systems, and Tony had a backdoor to Hydra, so by lunch time he was jogging back up the stairs to tell James what he’d found and almost tripped over a Barret MK22.

“Careful,” James said, sitting at the center of what looked like an explosion in a firearms factory. “I thought you’d be down there for longer.”

“Packing for the trip?” Tony asked, stepping carefully around the sniper rifle and picking his way through the rest of James’ collection towards the kitchen.

“Planning. Trying to figure out what we might need to pick up before we go.”

“I got that info for you, if that helps your planning.” Tony took one of the many frozen meals out of the freezer and popped it in the microwave. “Looks like they are keeping this information pretty close to the chest, which is good for us. Not going to be a lot of attention on him when it comes time to do our thing.” James only made an absent noise, clearly still lost in thought as he stared at a stack of C4, so for a while there was only the humming of the microwave until Tony got impatient and opened the door early. “I’ll be downstairs,” he told James as he grabbed a fork and gingerly picked up his molten hot lasagna.

“I’m coming,” James said, getting to his feet with a smooth, easy motion that made Tony feel every one of his years. Tony settled down in his computer chair as James stood behind him, leaving Tony with a prickling awareness of how close he was. Tony took a deep breath to steady himself and pulled up the report he’d slapped together. First was the building plan, and after it got James’ nod of approval Tony sent it to the jumbo printer because he knew that James liked to work off of hard copies. Next was a series of internal shield memos proposing a variety of plans for what to do when Steve woke up, and James snorted derisively as he read them. “Not a single one of these people know anything about Steve, do they?”

“I mean, only what they learned from history books, I guess. What would you do?”

“You mean what am I going to do? I’m going to say, ‘Wake the fuck up, Steve, we gotta get out of here now follow me.’”

Tony laughed and saw James’ mouth curl up at the corners. “Simple and effective. I like it.” Since SHIELD was still trying to decide its plan of action, Tony dismissed the emails and started pulling up the personnel list. Like he’d said, it wasn’t long; SHIELD was playing this one close to the vest for now.

“Wait.” Tony immediately stopped scrolling as James leaned over his shoulder, smelling like shower soap and gun oil. “I know her,” James said, frowning. He pointed at the redhead. “Who is she?”

“Well, her SHIELD ID says Natalie Rushman,” Tony said. “Is she Hydra?”

“No…” James said slowly, eyebrows drawing together as he tried to remember. Many of his memories had come back surprisingly quickly once they’d escaped Hydra, making for some really touch-and-go moments in the early months as James had often woken up screaming from nightmares and had wandered around the cabin hollow-eyed and haunted. Going into the woods had been his escape in those days, and he’d only told Tony what he was up to after Tony had gotten cabin fever and decided to go for a hike and figure out what all the hype was about with fresh air and nature. “I think I shot her once.”

“Think she’d know your face?”

“Maybe.” Tony could tell that James was still frustrated by the almost-there memory so he left the image up on the screen for him to stare at.

“That’ll be a complication, since she’s part of his reintegration team,” Tony mused. “Strangely enough, I guess that means between the two of us, I’ll be the one least likely to be recognized. Not something I ever thought I’d say.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

“Um…” Tony squinted at James and realized that obviously James wouldn’t know much about Tony’s past, other than what he’d told him or what James would have seen in the Hydra files. Especially if it hadn’t occurred to James to look him up on the internet, which he guessed was possible. “I was, uh, kind of a celebrity.”

“What for? Were you a movie star or something?”

Tony made a face. He didn’t want to admit that he was mostly famous for a series of sex scandals to someone who had personally known Captain America. “Nothing good,” he said finally. “Stupid stuff.” No chance James wasn’t going to Google him now, but at least he wouldn’t have to explain to James’ face why there were so many pictures on the internet of him naked. Thankfully, James just shrugged, apparently willing to leave it at that, so Tony quickly went through the rest of the items on James’ list. There was also no further updates on the efforts to get Steve out of the ice, so they were officially in Tony’s least favorite part of any operation: the hurry up and wait part.

With nothing else to do in the lab, Tony set JARVIS to keep an eye on any further communication and followed James back up the stairs. Since the couch was the only part of the living room that wasn’t covered in some kind of weapon, Tony perched on it and turned on the TV while James organized his collection. Making sad noises at James got him his forgotten lasagna from downstairs with the low, low cost of grumbling and an eye roll, leaving Tony to have a pleasant couple of hours hanging out in companionable silence with James. At some point, James had changed position to lean against the couch while sitting on the floor, which had meant that his back was pressing against Tony’s leg, warm and solid and something Tony only thought about every 15 seconds or so for a solid hour.

“I was thinking about what you said earlier,” James said after a while, sitting up and sadly moving away from Tony as he started to put away the weapons, sorting them into piles and returning some to their hiding places. “About this operation breaking our cover.”

“Yeah?”

“Your suit. Could you make it flashy?”

“Flashy?” Tony echoed in confusion. He had a couple of suit builds now, based on the various types of missions they went on, but all of them were matte black and had a rubberized exterior to reduce the noise and radar profile. “I mean, sure, that wouldn’t be hard. But why?”

“Our best bet might be for you to create a distraction, and I think you zooming down 5th Avenue would be a good distraction.”

Tony stared at him, stomach turning as his whole body went hot and cold with fear. “No,” he said shakily, turning away from James and sliding further into the couch, staring resolutely at the TV screen. “No fucking way.” Tony pulled the blanket tighter around himself, curling into a ball. Everything depended on him not being seen, on Hydra not knowing he was alive. Everything. How could James not know that? Was Tony supposed to jump at the chance to sacrifice himself for Steve? Because one look at the suit and Hydra would know, Stane would know, and then– then-

A sudden warm hand on his shoulder made him jump and lash out. When his hands only met hard muscle fight turned to flight and he scrambled away. But as he tried to get to his feet he tripped over a blanket and hit the floor hard, knocking the wind out of him. His heart was pounding in his ears but eventually he heard James talking to him, saying “Tony, fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize, just wait,” and that was like a bucket of water to the face. He realized he was sweating and his breathing was fast and shallow, and as he looked up at James he felt the hot crawl of humiliation.

“I’m fine,” he said shortly as he climbed to his feet. “I’m going to take a shower.” He could feel the pressure of James’ eyes and his silence against his back as he went to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He shook for a while, leaning against the bathroom door, before he finally managed to turn on the shower.

The awkwardness lasted until dinner, with James clearly wanting to say something but unsure how to bring it up, and Tony too embarrassed to meet his eye or give him an opening. Thankfully, JARVIS gave them an update halfway through dinner, and the tension eased as conversation turned towards their plan. Since James had cooked, Tony reluctantly got up to do the dishes, only to have James gently crowd him away from the sink. “You need to get ready for the mission,” James pointed out, which was a flimsy excuse because it didn’t take that long to get the suit ready to go now that Tony had figured out how to make it deploy from something the size of a suitcase, but Tony didn’t argue. He hated doing dishes.

It was also better than staying upstairs and risking that James would say something, so he went downstairs to prep the suit. Once down there, though, he slowed as he approached the Mark VII, remembering James’ suggestion earlier. Though the thought still make his limbs feel weak and his heart race, he forced himself to sit down and consider the idea instead of running from it. He knew what James had been trying to suggest; he could get the attention of the police and any SHIELD agents in the area and draw them away from James while he rescued Steve. He could even put a few holes in the building to cover their escape then disappear as soon as they were clear. It was smart, it was simple, and it was fucking terrifying.

Though there was no escaping the fact that Tony had put in a lot of effort making sure Hydra would think he was dead, and this was going to undo all of that work. “Fuck,” Tony groaned, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. It wasn’t like James wasn’t risking everything, too, but apparently he was willing to let Tony take the cowards way out even if it made their plan harder. “JARVIS,” he said finally, voice muffled behind his hands. “Warm up the machines, we’re modifying one of the suits. We’re changing up the armor.” What was an eye-catching color? Probably red, a bright red. All the better to wave himself in front of the metaphorical bull. But all red would look like shit. “Red and gold,” Tony said finally. “Make me a mockup of the armor in red and gold.”

#winteriron #tony x bucky #Tony Stark #Bucky Barnes

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duhragonball · 3 years

Text

Dragon Ball Super: Super Hero

youtube

I guess I should provide my hottt takes on the new DBS movie. A few days ago, they did this video for Comic Con announcing the title of the movie and teasing some details about the story.

I gotta say, this is exactly why I’ve never had any interest in Comic Con. They put this on YouTube, I guess because of the pandemic, but any other year they would have gathered an enormous crowd and made them stand in line for hours to watch all of this in person. I live in the Midwest, and when I went to comic book conventions it was for the sole purpose of rummaging through back issue bins. SDCC was always promoted like the biggest and most important convention in the U.S., but all I ever heard about it were trailers for movies and TV shows. Or, like, you had to go to Comic Con because that was the only way to get an exclusive Orange Lantern Hal Jordan action figure or something. They would always hype up all of this useless stuff and I just never heard of anything so important that I was willing to fly out to San Diego and stand in line for three hours for it. So now SDCC peels back the curtain with this video, about something I’m fairly interested in, but it’s really not that big a deal. I found out most of the information on Twitter before I even knew to watch this video.

But I’m just not that hyped about trailers or sneak peaks or sneak peaks at trailers. Which is probably why I waited this long to talk about it.

I’ll just go through the video. The first four minutes are Hironobu Kageyama performing “Cha La HEAD Cha La” live on the stage. That’s a pretty epic way to open this, but I feel like it oversells the importance of this event. You finish watching him and you think you’re about to see the movie itself, instead of hearing from the people who made it.

Next we have Sascha, the host of this panel. He speaks better English than I do, but I’m not sure what the point was in having any of this in English since he has to talk to the guests in Japanese. Pretty much all of the important information in this video is in Japanese, and I think everyone understood that going in. I guess it does give an international feel. If I spoke another language as fluently as Sascha, I’d want to show it off too.

4:56 is where Masako Nozawa comes out, and she’s just a joy to watch. She looks like this sweet grandmotherly figure, all warm smiles and then she busts out “Ossu! Ora Goku!” and immediately sounds like a badass.

Guest #2 is Akio Iyoku, Toriyama’s editor. Not to be confused with the awesome editor who poo-pooed all the androids and Cell’s semiperfect form. That was Yu Kondo. Iyoku comes out dressed like Goku, but he can’t talk like him so he’s immediately second-tier.

Guest #3 is Norohiro Hayashida, Producer from Toei Anaimation. He is also rocking the Goku cosplay, which would be a faux pas in most fandoms, but he can just say that he’s cosplaying as Krillin or Yamcha, which gives him greater nerd credibility because those are more obscure references.

Around 8:30 we really start getting into this, and they show us a model sheet of Piccolo. Is Piccolo being in the new movie a big surprise? He had a dry spell in the mid-90s, but he’s been in every Dragon Ball movie made in this century so far. And it’s not like they changed his look, like when they put Goku and Vegeta in those adorable coats last time. I’m not complaining about any of this. It’s nice to see that a) Piccolo is confirmed for new movie and b) they didn’t tinker with his appearance.

All I’m saying is that they only brought up this model sheet to show off how they’re using his color scheme from the manga as opposed to the anime. Hence the red belt and the yellower arm sections. In the anime, the belt was always blue, and his biceps were hot pink instead of off-yellow. But it’s such a subtle thing that even Sascha didn’t pick up on it. It’s like they were hyping up the fact that it’s such a minor change. I like it, don’t get me wrong, but it’s a weird flex. Also, he looks like he still has his five-fingered anime hands, so I’m not that impressed. Give us four fingers, Toei!

Sascha asks Masako Nozawa what she thinks about Piccolo and she just starts off with “He was Gohan’s teacher,” and talks about how strong and cool he looks. She speaks of him like he’s a family member, because she’s awesome.

Next up, we have Pan, and now we’re talking. The scuttlebutt is that this was the character Toriyama was referring to when he spoke of an “unexpected character”. And I guess Pan fits the bill, since I don’t think anyone expected her to be this old in the movie. I understand this is her kindergarten uniform, so she’d have to be about five or six years old. I love Masako Nozawa’s reaction here. Throughout this video, you can see that Goku and Gohan aren’t just roles to her.

I’ll put on my fanboy hat here and point out that Pan’s age may imply that this movie takes place after the final episode of Dragon Ball Z. She looks older here than she did when she fought Wild Tiger, at any rate. So far, the entire Dragon Ball Super franchise has been set during the ten-year gap between the Buu crisis and the finale of Z. So everyone has been wondering if DBS would move beyond End of Z, or whether Akira Toriyama even still recognizes the continuity of those final chapters. They were supposed to be ten years of peace, but all the battles in DBS say otherwise. Also, I’m pretty sure Pan and Bulla’s ages in the DBZ finale don’t line up well with their appearances in Super, but I’ve never studied it very closely.

So this might be set post End of Z, or this might be Toriyama retconning End of Z altogether. I’m interested to see which way this goes.

Here’s Krillin, still working for the police, although his uniform looks more like Bronze Age Lex Luthor than anything else. Like Piccolo, the “big” story here is that he’s been tweaked to resemble the coloring in the manga, so his sclera are now white instead of fleshtoned.

Never mind that, here’s Piccolo’s house. This is probably the breakout star of this video, because I think everybody is excited to see Piccolo’s house. Because it’s new lore! No one even knew if he had one or not. It was a running gag in DBZ Abridged that he was homeless. I mean, congratulations to Krillin for getting his eyes colored in right, but that doesn’t tell me anything new about the character. But Piccolo’s house is a big friggin’ deal. What’s inside of there? What’s on the second floor? Check out his mailbox. What kind of mail does he get? It’s exciting.

Nozawa even points out that she and her co-workers would talk about this sort of thing in the recording studio. That’s a big deal to me, that the voice actors think about the same kind of stuff that I do as a fan.

Around 15:30, they start talking about Toriyama’s commitment to the making of this movie, which seems like a weird thing to focus on, because he wrote the screenplay to the last two movies. Did anyone think he was stepping back? I get the impression that there’s still some hard feelings about the failure of Dragon Ball Evolution, in the sense that they want to reassure everyone that we’re still in good hands. I suppose one of these days, Toriyama won’t be as heavily involved in a project like this, so maybe it makes sense for Toei and Shueisha to make it clear that today is not that day.

On the other hand, Toriyama was just as involved with Broly as he was with Resurrection F, and Broly was a much better film. The Dragon Ball Super manga seems to have revived the old argument over who’s to blame when the story is a letdown, and I think that misses the point. Look, the Zamasu arc sucked, and I don’t care who wrote what parts, or whether Toriyama had a bad idea or whether he handed a good idea off that was badly executed. They can hash that out behind the scenes if they want to.

About 19 minutes in, they show us this model sheet, and refuse to explain who these guys are or what they’re doing in the movie. Are they villains? Who knows? I’d like to think they’re important characters to the story, but I have my doubts that Krillin will have a big part to play.

At 20 minutes, they announce the title of the movie, and I’m not very thrilled with “Dragon Ball Super: Super Hero.” They can talk it up as much as they want, and maybe the title is relevant to the plot, but it’s just too many uses of the word “super”. Especially when they’ve got another series called “Super Dragon Ball Heroes” on YouTube.

Then we get this teaser trailer, or whatever you want to call it, with a CG Goku hopping around and doing his classic fighting pose. Now, for some reason, lots of people concluded that this means the entire movie will be done in this CG style, which has led to a debate over whether or not that’s a good thing. If they can make the whole movie look this slick, then I’m fine with it. Hell, I’m not picky. They could animate the whole thing in Yukio Ebisawa style, and I’d be thrilled.

But I’m not understanding where people got the idea that it’s definitely going to be a 100% CGI movie. They never spell that out in this video, and they even go out of their way to admit that this shot of Goku isn’t actually from the movie. So is there some other source people are referring to, or did everyone just jump to conclusions?

And that’s pretty much it. I don’t mean to sound negative on this panel, but I don’t feel like they revealed very much, unless this is actually going to turn out to be Piccolo and Pan having an adventure by themselves. I think Toei could make a movie like that and it would be a success, but I have my doubts that they’d go in that direction. If this is going to turn out to be another big slugfest with Vegeta, then I’m down for that too, but don’t show me Piccolo’s house if the movie’s going to be about Vegeta punching a guy.

Bottom line: I’m still looking forward to this, but I don’t feel like I know much more about the movie than I did before. Well, except for the part about Piccolo’s house. I’m looking forward to seeing the inside of it.

#dragon ball #dragon ball super super heroes #piccolo #pan #krillin #goku

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hiro-gari · 3 years

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Because I've been missed my boi Badd, can I ask for a headcanon/oneshot (whichever do you wanted) about him after Badd was awoken in hospital and decided to pursue Garou? Like, you could write his inner thoughts or his new curiosity about Garou. You could make it shippy or not, it's your choice. I just love Batarou, be it them being romantic or platonic. Thank you so much, I hope you have a good week! 😘💕💖

I’m sorry this took me nearly a week to respond to!! I missed this boi too 💞😭Here’s a little oneshot of Badd’s internal reflections after fighting Garou, a monster like none he’s faced before, during his hospitalization post Super Fight Arc.

It turned out a little more angsty than I wanted it to but I hope you like it still

Gray Areas

“We're so quick to go to make things black and white, and to put things in their box. But everything is this mixture - and that's what this world is - is this blend of different things.” -Matisyahu

Warnings: Injuries, cursing

The sky was a dark, condescending gray. The cool wind brought a welcome rush of fresh air to the man who leaned up against the stairway railing, taking in the sight of the city from the roof.

Though hardly recognizable with his tousled hair and battered body, it was S-Class hero, Metal Bat.

To his relief, he had finally convinced his younger sister, Zenko to go home and get some sleep for school the next day. Though she initially vowed to stay by his side until he was released, she had finally conceded. After ensuring she was well on her way, Badd seized his chance to escape the sterile blandness of his hospital room and tenderly made his way to the roof.

None of the other heroes in the hospital had dared to confront him about his fight; not since he had lashed out at one of the injured martial artists from the Stadium that had questioned him.

“You call yourself an S-class hero? Then how is it that you’re here and the hero hunter is reportedly unscathed?”

Badd had sent a cart of empty dishes flying into the wall, causing a crash that hushed the other patients in the cafeteria.

“What kind of guy goes bashing in heads in front of his kid sister?! You expect a hero to kill someone in front of a little girl? You don’t know shit!”

The murmurs began amongst the onlookers as one of the nurses tried to calm him down and escort him back to his room. Some of them reacted in disbelief. Many echoed the speculations of that martial artist; the notorious Hero Hunter just walked away when confronted by child? No, Metal Bat must have been outmatched, or worse, he’d lost his resolve when faced with a human enemy.

Not a human enemy, Badd brooded to himself, he’s a hero hunter, a stinking monster like all the rest.

Despite several days passing since the ordeal, he could hear his name being spoken in hushed tones behind closed curtains, almost inevitably followed by “hero hunter”. Hardly any of them would even make eye contact when he saw them.

If Zenko hadn’t shown up before the finishing blow, I would have ended that monster right there, he reminded himself again.

But there had been a moment, just a fraction of a second after he’d frozen mid-swing at the sound of Zenko’s voice, when Garou had stared up at him. The sight of his face in that instant still lingered in Badd’s mind, gnawing at him no matter how hard he tried to forget it.

To make matters worse, the press had just announced to the world that the executive’s son he had been guarding had been taken hostage by the Monster Association. Of course, Zenko had been with him when the news broke.

“They’re holding that boy captive to lure in heroes? Why doesn’t he just stand up to them?” She said indignantly, as thought it was the obvious solution.

Badd sighed, remembering how the pampered little brat and his father had shrieked and cowered at the mere sight of a monster.

“Not all kids got guts like you, Zenko. And even if he managed to confront 'em, they’re monsters. They don’t care if it’s a kid, as long as they’re gettin’ what they want.”

“They don’t care if it’s a kid…” She grew strangely silent after that, seeming deep in thought as the news anchor prattled on about the Hero Association’s failures.

Shit, I can’t be talking doom and gloom around her. She might be fearless, but this ain’t somethin’ she should be worrying over. The news channel replayed the clip of Elder Centipede swirling through the air, reducing entire streets to rubble in seconds. I gotta get back out there. For her sake, for everyone’s sake-

Zenko turned to him, interrupting his thoughts.

“Big bro, that guy you were fighting in the street,” she started, with an inquisitive look, “was he really a mon-”

“H-hey look!” Badd exclaimed with false excitement, pointing to the TV. “They brought Amai Mask on!”

“Sweet Mask!!”

Badd was snapped out of his reflective trance by a sharp sting.

“Goddamn it,” he grumbled under his breath. He’d been picking idly at a bandage that had started to peel off his arm, tearing at the forming scab underneath.

She’s so damn perceptive for her age. Yes, Garou ended the fight once she stood between us, but there’s no way in hell it was for her safety. Monsters like him don’t think like that, unless...

Unless he’s a damn fake.

Badd was no stranger to fighting villains and monsters. He’d already eradicated hundreds in his few years since joining the Hero Association. He had grown familiar with the crazed ramblings of beasts lacking any sanity, and the delirious grins of the sick maniacs who attacked people for the joy of it. It was part of what made smacking a bat in their face so satisfying.

Why can’t I get the look of that bastard’s face out of my head? If I’d killed him in that instant, wouldn’t it have been for the best? After what he did to the Tanktop brothers, even poor Mumen Rider!

Badd groaned exasperatedly as he felt the first misty droplets of rain hit his face. He slid down to sit on the top step of the staircase, unwilling to resign back to his room. He rested his chin in the palm of his hand and stared into the dimness of the hall.

That look on Garou’s face, it wasn’t like a monster at all. In those gold eyes, there’s the same look I see in the mirror.

Just a human being, risking his life to fight for somethin’ he truly believes in.

The door to the staircase opened unexpectedly, startling Badd into standing at once. He gritted his teeth at the pangs in his leg after the sudden movement. The nurse who had started up the steps was wringing her hands together anxiously.

“Metal Bat! What are you doing up here? It’s going to rain! You need to keep your bandages dry!”

“Tch, don’t get all motherly on me,” he responded sharply, “I was just heading back anyways.” She gave him a wounded look as he rejected her offered arm to help him down the stairs.

Nice goin’, Badd. Very hero-like. He scolded himself.

He grumbled an apology and brushed past her down the stairs. He forced his face to remain stony to ease her concern, ignoring the shooting pain each step sent up his leg.

He got me good, damn bastard, I don’t care what he is! He concluded firmly.

Once we bash that Monster Association into the ground, I’ll make sure I’m the one to teach him a lesson about heroes and monsters.

#tysm for requesting this I haven’t written anything even moderately emotional in a long time #i just hope it isn’t too emotional 😭#batarou #badd #metal bat #garou #opm #oneshot

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vaikotsu · 4 years

Text

Playing House

Ace of Diamond - Misawa One-Shot

While babysitting Takigawa's daughter one weekend, the topic of having a family makes it's entrance on Kazuya and Eijun's 6 year relationship. However, it's soon made clear that the two of them have very different views concerning the idea of starting their own.

Read on Ao3

Kazuya's eyes peeled open at the wailing sound coming through the bedroom wall. Instant regret over his decisions setting in as he turned to look at the clock on his bedside, a crude realization of just how early it was.

Another whaling cry tore through the wall, so loud that it was hard to believe it came from such a tiny human.

Rolling over he nudged his sleeping husband's shoulder, "Eijun..the baby."

Though the brunette showed no sign of waking up which in turn struck a nerve as Kazuya came to terms with the only other reasonable option. To kick him out of bed, literally.

Eijun hit the floor with a bump and a groan before jumping up in a slight panic. "What's wrong? Are you okay, what's happening?"

“Asako.”

“What?”

"The baby! the baby is what's happening.'

Just as the realization began to set in for Eijun as another cry echoed throughout the small house.

"Oh god," Eijun moaned before shoving his face into the side of the bed. "Not again."

"Go!" Kazuya spoke bluntly. "Don't just lay there ."

"But I did it earlier," Eijun whined. "Why can't you--"

"Excuse me?" Kazuya cut in. "Whose idea was it to babysit again?"

"Bu-"

"Whose idea was it?"

Eijun exhaled in defeat, "Mines."

"Exactly."

Pulling himself up off the floor Eijun let out a yawn as he made his way to the door. "It's not my fault Chris-senpai left out the fact that his child is a tiny shrieking demon that never sleeps."

Not saying anything in return, Kazuya laid in silence. Listening to Eijun's shuffled footsteps as they made their way to the baby's room for the third time that night alone.

Takigawa and his wife were celebrating their third anniversary and had managed to convince Eijun that babysitting Asako would be the ideal pastime. Knowing full well that he adored his niece just enough to believe it. Even going as far as to let them both stay at their house so it would be easier on them and the baby.

"Easier my ass," Kazuya muttered as he continued to piece together how he had found himself in this situation.

"It'll be fun! Besides you can't have dad without mom." Eijun's words echoed in his mind.

“Why am I the mom,” Kazuya grumbled. “I’m very obviously the dad in this situa-”

Another cry echoed through the house, this time slightly louder than the one that had preceded it.

“Damn it,” Kazuya muttered under his breath as he jumped up from the bed practically running to the other room. ‘What the heck did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Eijun responded in a frantic tone of voice. Looking down at the crying bundle in his arms, Kazuya could see that the top of the bottle had fallen off causing milk to pour all over the baby.

“You had one thing, one thing you had to do and still messed it up. I should have known.” Kazuya spoke as he took the baby from Eijun’s arms, immediately unwrapping her from the blanket before laying her down on the changing table as she continued to cry.

“Did your uncle ruin your night?” He asked her as he began undoing her onesie and taking it off as well.

“Hey, it was an accident!” Eijun defended.

With his hand on her stomach to prevent her from rolling away, Kazuya looked around the changing table compartments before turning to Eijun with a sigh. “I think you left the baby wipes in the living room, can you grab them?”

Leaving with a huff, Eijun returned a few moments later with them. “Here.”

Wiping up what was left of the milk mess, Kazuya changed Asako’s diaper and dressed her in a new onesie. Before picking her up and laying her on his shoulder.

Eijun looked on from the doorway as Kazuya patted her back softly, stepping back and forth slowly. Soon the wailing cries faded into small whimpers and eventually soft breathing. Kazuya pats, slowed into a small circular motion as he lays his chin gently on Asako’s head. Allowing her head to nuzzle into his neck.

Despite the nagging sleep deprivation, Eijun couldn’t help but smile. Kazuya had always been good with children - but this, this was something else. This wasn’t just someone being good with kids, this was someone who was meant to be a father.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Kazuya whispered.

“No reason really, just thinking about the good of a dad you would be.”

Kazuya’s lips parted in shock having not expected such a comment. “Take yourself back to bed if you are just going to spout nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense!” Eijun defended. “Come on you can’t tell me you’ve never thought about it!”

“Actually, I can because I don’t know if you forgot but we’re both men, idiot!”

“So, we can adopt.”

Rolling his eyes, Kazuya eased his way towards the crib. Though as he reached it he was met with a puddle of milk staring back at him.

“Are you kidding me?” Turning to look at Eijun once more, Kazuya struggled to hold back his voice. “How you managed to get milk in the crib too is beyond me but fix it.”

“Fine, you don’t gotta be so snappy about it,” Eijun whined. “It’s not my fault I was half asleep.”

“Do you really want to revisit whose fault this all is again.”

Staying silent, Eijun began pulling out the sheets and small blankets from the crib.

That’s what I thought.

Walking into the living room, Kazuya laid Asako down in the playpen before going back to her room to help Eijun.

“You don’t have to help, I can do it,” Eijun said.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Then where do these go?” Kazuya said smugly, picking up the discarded sheets from the floor.

“In the laundry.”

“And where's that.”

Eijun opened his mouth to speak but found himself to have no answer. “Carry On.”

“Thought so.”

Gathering up all the dirty bedding; Kazuya discarded them in the washing machine before gathering new ones from the hall closet.

“I didn’t know you knew Chris-senpai's house so well,” Eijun said softly when Kazuya returned.

“I don’t. You just didn’t pay attention when he was giving us the tour before he left.”

“Oh.”

Silence fell between the two lovers as they cleaned, neither saying anything to the other. That is until Eijun finally decides to break it.

“I’m sorry if I made you mad earlier.”

“I’m not mad.” Kazuya shot back almost immediately. “I’m just tired; I want to go back to sleep.”

“Then I’m sorry for dragging you into all of this.”

In the three years since the two had started dating; Eijun had come to realize two things. First was that Kazuya was a lot more serious than he typically appeared to others. And the second was that when Kazuya was mad it was best just to apologize rather than probe him about it.

“You know, it's not that I hate babysitting or anything.” Kazuya started. “It’s just I wish you would think things through more before you say them.”

“Ah, so it is about that.” Eijun thought to himself before speaking. “I know and I’m sorry.”

Kazuya nodded as he flipped the small mattress over.

“But it’s just so hard to properly think about things when it comes to you.”

Kazuya’s hands came to a stop, deep laughter bellowing deep within him, spilling out almost instantly. “What kind of drama did you get that line from?”

“None!” Eijun defended, only slightly wounded by his husband’s comment. “It’s the truth!”

Kazuya can’t help but laugh at his husband's defense, “I know it’s the truth, it's just one of those things that can go without saying.”

“Anyways,” Eijun continued. “Don’t you also think it would be nice?”

“What?”

“Having a family..one of our own.”

“Again with this nonsense.”

“I don’t think it’s nonsense,” Eijun mumbles. “Why is wanting a family with you, nonsense.”

“Great, now he’s sulking.” Kazuya thought.

As the two finished up making Asako’s bed, they made their way down the hall to the living room. Finding Asako still asleep in her playpen.

“You can go ahead and put her back in the bed, I’m gonna go back to sleep.”

Turning on his heel, Eijun made his way back to the bedroom leaving Kazuya standing alone in the hallway.

Standing alone in silence; Eijun’s words repeated in his mind, leaving him in a deep internal debate. Going to pick up Asako and take her back to her room. Kazuya continued to rack his brain over Eijun, something he had grown accustomed to over the many years they had been together.

Regardless of how high he built the wall or how deep the waters were surrounding it, Eijun always found a way through it and straight under Kazuya’s skin.

Don’t you think it would be nice? Having a family of our own. Eijun’s words repeated once more.

Kazuya could feel the heat burning into his cheeks. “Of course I think it would be nice! But it’s not that easy.”

The adoption process was one thing, but the world was a complete other. What kind of life would that child have, growing up with two dads? Gay couples still weren’t even accepted by most people, Kazuya could only imagine how the child would be treated.

“So how could you say things like that so simply. Like it is as easy as picking up a kid from the grocery store.” Kazuya whispered to himself as he closed Asako’s bedroom door behind him. “Still I probably shouldn't have disregarded what he said so easily.”

Kazuya pursed his lips in discontent knowing that he’d have to apologize.

Entering the bedroom, Kazuya could see the outline of Eijun’s back as he faced away from the door.

“I know you're still awake,” Kazuya stated, crawling into bed.

“No, I’m not,” Eijun rebutted. “I am currently sound asleep.”

“Good cause I don’t want you to hear this,” Kazuya smiled, wrapping his arms around Eijun’s waist. “I’m sorry.”

“For?” Eijun continued. “And just to let you I’m currently talking in my sleep. I’m still not awake.”

Kazuya positioned his forehead between Eijun’s shoulder blades, letting out a deep sigh. “I understand your feelings about wanting a family together and I wish I could give you that. But it’s not as simple as just deciding to have a baby. There are a lot of decisions, big decisions that we’d have to make. And because of us - no because of our relationship it would be so hard. Even adopting, the chance of approval is so small and-”

“Kazuya.” Eijun interrupted rolling over to his husband. “It’s not like I was saying we had to do it right now or that we had to do it at all. I just like to think about it sometimes, it’s fun to entertain the idea.”

Looking into Eijun’s eyes, Kazuya was overwhelmed but his pure gaze. His heart’s pace picks up quickly in speed.

“And,” He went on. “Even if we never get a kid, that's fine. I have you and that’s all the family I need.”

Staying silent, Kazuya didn’t know whether what he was feeling was adoration or second-hand embarrassment.

Pulling a pillow out from behind him, Kazuya slapped Eijun with full force behind it.

“What was that for?” Eijun laughed.

“For spouting unnecessary things again,” Kazuya said, his own laughter spilling from his lips. “I swear you are like every cheesy chick flick wrapped into o-”

Before Kazuya could finish off his statement a pillow came down on his face. His vision blocked for a moment before it was pulled away.

“Payback is such a pain isn’t it.” Eijun joked.

“Oh, you are done for,” Kazuya said, reaching for a nearby pillow. The two began exchanging blows with fierce competitiveness. Eijun climbed atop Kazuya in hopes of gaining an advantage only to be thwarted with a simple thrust.

Now slipping from the bed, Eijun gripped Kazuya’s shirt tightly bringing them both down to the floor.

“You are such a little cheater.” Kazuya laughed.

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

Quiet giggles soon filled the room in place of their hushed bickering, shoulders now shaking with laughter. It was in this moment that a small stream of light peered into the room; reminding the two that morning had officially arrived with a long day of playing house ahead.

#ace of diamond #Misawa #miyuki kazuya #sawamura eijun #daiya no ace #daiya fanfic #one shot #arajikifics

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chyrstis · 4 years

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I won’t ask for much (but just this once, I’d like you) 6/10

Meant to get this one up over here a little sooner, but the added time didn’t hurt one bit, and it let me make some more formatting tweaks. I might just keep on tweaking this whole thing forever at this rate.

Oh, and the sunglasses? Entirely unplanned in the initial draft until I caught a reference to a movie that couldn’t be further removed from this or FC5. But I owe that absurd movie so much, considering how important those darn glasses are now in hindsight.

Pairing: Sharky Boshaw x John Seed

Rating: E (but only for Ch. 10, the rest are a solid T) Word Count: 3.2K

Link to AO3!

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10

—

Sharky steals a boat. It just happens to be John’s boat, and when it’s damaged along with his boathouse, John proceeds to lay out a means of having Sharky pay him back. [No Cult AU]

———–

“Still went with that red, huh?”

John set the paint cans down next to him, and glanced up at the boathouse. “If you recall, I had my heart set on red. Back when it was first built I hadn't thought much of it, but…maybe I was a bit more fond of it than I remember.”

“That don't mean you couldn't have changed it.” Sharky pried open the paint can with a spare screwdriver, and handed it off. “Gone for something different, but still memorable. Like orange, or yellow.”

John’s lip curled. “Yellow?”

“Yeah. Banana yellow, or shit, bright purple.”

“I was taking your opinion on this seriously, you know. Up until the word ‘banana’ slipped out.”

“Heh, slipped.” John’s flat look only made Sharky snicker more. “But can you name five things, like well-known landmarks that are yellow?” John opened his mouth, but Sharky didn’t let him finish. “And green’s my go-to, ride-or-die color, but yellow? Two thumbs up.”

“So you say.”

“It’s just the kind of thing that’ll net you a bunch of admirers. Numbers ripe for the picking. ‘Cause it’s, you know. Oozing all of that appeal. Like peel, as in a banana.”

John let out an exasperated groan, and Sharky might’ve punched the air. Maybe harder than intended. “You did not.”

“I did. Don’t think I won’t find a way to do it again. It’s the Boshaw way,” Sharky replied with a wink.

Rolling his eyes, John huffed. “I hate you.”

The two dipped the paint rollers into his chosen red and started spreading it, painting wide red lines over the wood as they took them up the sides from top to bottom. The patches weren’t going to be done in a single coat, but each one streaked. Made Sharky’s job harder for him as he laid the paint on thick, only for John to try and correct him.

His pointed betrayal when the next five strokes didn’t come out just as perfect as he claimed they would had Sharky cracking up on the spot.

“Nobody’s perfect,” he offered, but John kept on trying over and over until he was able to make it work.

It was hot for a late-fall day, though. Or maybe it was just the combination of the sun and the work, but he was sweating. Needing some other way to cool off than the water stashed in the cooler with them, Sharky stepped back, only to catch a view of the river.

Now that was a source guaranteed to cool him off fast.

Taking his shirt off, Sharky mopped his face with it, eyeing the water. Stared at it just long enough for the internal battle in him to be fought and won, and he made his choice.

Balling his shirt up, he took a shot for the table in the distance, and missed it completely. Missed it with his hat afterwards too, but the wind threw him off there; whipped under the hat only to send it flying off elsewhere, and Sharky watched it tumble onto the grass.

John raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

“Going for a swim.” Undoing his belt, Sharky slid it off and tossed it to the side. “Seriously, the water at this time of year’s gotta be perfect. Just cold enough to shock the system, but not enough to send you straight to the hospital.”

That had John shaking his head at him.

“Guess we’ll agree to disagree here, compadre, but you tell me that ain’t looking the slightest bit nice.”

His pants came off right after, and to John’s credit his eyes didn’t leave his face. “It might.”

“Well, between you and me? Might’ll do just fine,” Sharky said, smirking at him.

Shedding his shoes and socks, he went right for it. Didn’t think anything at all of how cold it was looking to be, and dove into the water. The sharp temperature difference hit almost immediately, making him suck in a breath once he surfaced; the chill of it washing right over him.

But the longer he was out there, the less it bothered him - taking the edge off in just the way he hoped. It was a great feeling, and he kept paddling around close to the pier before noticing that John hadn’t made a move to follow him. Not that he’d expected him to, but that didn’t mean some friendly peer pressure was out.

Sharky reached up to snag the end of the pier and hoisted himself up. Resting on his forearms as John walked to the end to join him, he tapped a fist against the wood.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Hell yeah,” Sharky replied, grinning up at him. “Seriously. You wanna cool off quick? This does it.”

John tapped his fingers on his thigh as he stood there, and actually looked like he was considering it. He crouched down to better talk to him, still more than a few feet higher overall.

“I’ll take your word for it, but I have a feeling you’re just trying to give me a nasty shock.”

“Why’d you say that?”

“Because I can hear your teeth chattering from here.”

Snapping his mouth shut, Sharky rubbed at his lips and tossed a glare John’s way. Then an idea hit. One that had him trying not to grin behind his fingers, and dropped the smile before lowering it.

“Fine, it’s like ten degrees colder than I’d like, but still doable. Just not for longer than like, five minutes at a time. Got a hand for me?” He reached up to John, and he didn’t hesitate to take it. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

Keeping his fingers clasped around his forearm, John tried to help him up, but he stayed put.

“What are you…?”

Shock flashed across John’s face as Sharky pulled hard, yanking him right off the dock and into the water.

The water closed over Sharky’s head. Cut him off from both sound and light, leaving him only to the sound of his breath. His thoughts too, but those never really left him. Not for long, at least.

It was hard to see with what he’d kicked up, but something glinted as it floated down. Something metal, and he snatched up the discarded set of sunglasses before they vanished from sight.

Dropping low, he pushed back up and broke the surface just as a sputtering John did. Coughing, and half-blinded by his hair, John bobbed in place dipping low only when he tried swiping his hair back, and Sharky whooped.

“Badass right? But you know what they say? Ain’t no time like-”

The sharp look in John’s eyes shut him up instantly. Swimming past him, John went straight for shore, and Sharky hesitated only long enough to realize he should’ve been following. He hit land right on John’s heels and watched as he swiped his hair back, drenched to the bone.

“Yo, John, I, um, I’m really sorry. I didn’t think it’d be anything bad or nothing. Just wanted to share a, uh…fuck.”

Turning towards him, John’s expression was perfectly schooled. Calmer than he’d been out on the water, but his eyes didn’t let up, and Sharky was frozen to the spot. He tilted his head, and the motion brought a strip of hair down, moving it out of place only for it to slap him on the nose.

John flinched. Reaching up slowly to glance down at what was held between his fingers, he examined it closely only for his mouth to split into a brilliant grin. Covering it with his hand, he started to laugh, continuing until his entire body was shaking.

“Uh, dude?” Sharky stood there, both of his hands held up in front of him and waited. Waited a beat, then two as John continued, genuinely laughing his way through this almost to the point of tears, and couldn’t keep a nervous smile from creeping in. “You doing okay over there?”

“You didn’t think that through at all, did you?”

Sharky watched him carefully, still not sure if it was safer for him to join in or run. “Think through what now?”

“You wanted to share a what with me?”

“Share a…like, share a good idea.”

Tutting him, John’s grin quickly became a smirk. “I distinctly recall hearing you say something a little more suggestive.”

“Share a good idea, not like share a…oh.”

Oh, he was not fucking serious.

“Th-that’s you thinking that!” Sharky replied, his voice strained, “I just…remember how I said you were a talker? And how I can put both feet in my mouth, and keep on running? Well, that’s what that was! Me running, ‘cept it was my mouth doing it.”

“But that may not have been the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

“Uh, wait, what?" Still scrambled, Sharky wasn’t sure at all what thread they were following now.

“The swim.” John straightened his posture, all while trying to brush his hair back into place, and his smirk only grew. “Almost too refreshing in a way, and well worth the cost of doing so.”

Reaching into his pocket, John held up his phone. His very expensive, and now very dead phone, and déjà vu hit Sharky all over again.

“Don’t,” John said, interrupting the rush of thoughts early, “I needed to replace it anyway. Those, however, I’d prefer not to.”

Looking down, Sharky took in the sunglasses clenched in his hand. John’s fancy blue-lensed sunglasses, that had only survived due to a miracle alone.

John gestured towards the sunglasses, and curved a finger to guide him forward. “I’ll take them back now.”

The idea hit before he’d even taken the first step.

One for one so far, his luck was rarely good enough to gamble with repeatedly, but he was feeling good today. Pumped enough from the dive alone, he'd had a chance to see John let loose - really fucking ease off and relax for once - and he'd gladly crash and burn at the chance to have that happen twice.

Sharky held them out only to slip them on, blinking against the sudden wave of blue. “This pair’s mighty nice. Might’ve been eyeing a new pair of glasses myself.”

John narrowed his eyes. “Those are five-hundred-dollar, custom-made, specialty sunglasses.”

“Guess you want them back bad then, don’t you?” Sliding a hand behind his ear, Sharky flicked the sunglasses up and down a few times over his eyes, and didn’t bother hiding the smirk crossing his face, “‘Fraid I’ll mess ‘em up, Johnny boy?”

The nickname got the reaction he’d hoped for. John sharpened the glare until it was made of nothing but intent. That sent a thrill through him; one he was going to ride for all it was worth.

"Well?" Sharky spread his hands wide, and motioned towards himself as he stepped back. “You waiting for an invite or something?”

Then promptly turned and cheezed it towards the woods.

Running through the brush wasn’t the best choice. Doing it without his sneakers wasn't a great option either, but he’d already dedicated himself to seeing this through, and judging from the sound behind him, John was too.

Good. He’d almost be disappointed if he got away.

Ducking into spot by a nearby bush, Sharky glanced around, the shades throwing him off enough to shove them up onto his head, and knew John had the advantage here. He had shoes, could see clearly, and was too stubborn to quit.

It didn’t matter that he was though. So was he, and there was no way he’d give up now with John so close.

Sneaking, though, had never been his forte, and crashing through this, he’d left a good trail to follow. Breaking and snapping everything he could’ve collided with or trudged through along the way, had generated all sorts of noise. Shit, feeling less and less like the Predator and more like one of the guys about to be skinned by it, he settled in and barely held back from slapping dirt onto himself for any form of camo.

Though, wait. Maybe he did have the right idea there. Just grab some mud and branches, tuck in real nice and close to one of these trees with his back to it, facing out so he could see into the forest as a whole. Maybe throw some leaves into it-

Popping up behind him, John’s grin went devious in a snap. “What have we here?”

“Oh, fuck!“

He jumped up only to feel a weight slam into him, taking him down to the ground. John really wasn’t messing around, and he swore to himself as he tried to wriggle out of his hold and crawl away. John’s hands slipped due to his wet skin and his lack of clothes period, but he wasn’t budging. No, he stayed on him, and Sharky mentally upgraded him from stubborn as hell to stubborn as fuck.

He was also busy trying not to think about just how okay John was wrestling a guy in his underwear like this. John was warm up against his back, but that had nothing on the way he was practically panting into his ear. It sent a shiver straight through him, and Sharky hoped like hell this wouldn’t be the time he’d decide to pop a boner.

Because one, awkward. Two, his tighty-whiteys weren’t going to hide shit. And three, John.

John wasn’t supposed to be in the same category as those chicks from the music videos he loved watching, those two ladies that he really wished he’d sealed the deal with a couple of months back, Grace snapping off a shot during Nick’s 4th of July bash, or Mary May.

But here he was, thinking about it, and couldn’t find a solid reason to shoot it down. Well, not as solid a reason as he’d thought, apparently. ‘Cause him not being that into dudes was supposed to cover that, but not even that held as much water as it used to. Not anymore.

Fuck. Fuck his luck.

“Now, now,” John hissed. “It doesn’t do either of us any good if what we’re both seeking ends up breaking. Especially now. Don’t you agree?”

Sharky threw his hands up. “Okay, fine! Fine! Uncle, just…let me flip over so I don’t end up eating dirt while I’m at it.”

The glasses had fallen down over his eyes in the struggle, and when John backed off enough for him to turn over, he found himself staring up at him. Blue on blue, the lenses really didn’t do his eyes justice. Not one bit.

“Do you yield?”

Sharky flipped him off with both hands.

“Now Charlemagne, be reasonable. I don’t think you’re in a position to argue.”

“Look, I could find a position for any occasion.” And under you’s one of them, he thought, biting his tongue. “But uh, we gonna parley this?”

“Parley?” John laughed, “I don’t think there’s much to negotiate here, but if you simply hand them over, perhaps I could be convinced to be merciful.”

He really wished John would shut his mouth. Or say something other than what he’d usually drop, because suddenly finding that hot was becoming a problem. Fast.

Grumbling, Sharky reached for the sunglasses and held them up. “Whatever. Just take ‘em.”

John snapped them up, holding them high before sliding them back onto his head like a small crown. All while wearing every bit of the triumphant smile he expected he would. “Ah, reunited at last.”

“Yeah, yeah. You won, whatever.”

Setting his hand back down to the right of Sharky’s head, John sighed. “You, my friend, never know when to quit.”

“Hey, you’re the one that ran a half-naked dude through the woods, and tackled his ass to the ground over a pair of sunglasses. Classic case of the pot calling the kettle black, yo.”

“Please,” John rolled his eyes, but was smiling warmly, “this was encouraged. Don’t deny it.”

Sharky returned it, liking how it took the edge off of him. It always did, but John usually let it fade fast. Like he’d blink and miss it, and wouldn’t have had any clue he’d done it to begin with.

Not this time. John kept that smile, aiming it right at him, and he couldn’t look away if he tried.

“Who said I was?” Sharky replied, his voice deeper. Rougher.

Opening his mouth to respond, John paused. Let his smile curve into something different as it took on an edge he liked, and waited, watching him back just as closely now.

Sharky heard the leaves move as John shifted, leaning down. But he tuned it all out. Focused only on John as he came within a breath of him, hovering in place as he took in every last detail on his face.

“Prove me wrong then,” John whispered.

So, Sharky did exactly what his gut told him to do. No mind paid at all to the anxious voice in the back of his head running on overdrive, or how hard his heart was pounding in his chest.

Leaning up, he touched his lips to John's.

They were cool. Cool and soft as he held the kiss, not wanting to break it.

Nothing happened at first. Above him, John stayed in place, frozen, but he didn’t withdraw. That’s when it clicked, the actual act sinking in, and John’s eyelids fluttered shut.

Angling his head, his mouth moved against his. Applied more pressure bit by bit, as Sharky breathed in through his nose. It was slow; careful as neither drew back, or wanted air between them.

Sharky reached up for him, placing a hand on his side as John let more of his weight shift onto him. Pulled him closer, focusing on how warm he felt, even through his wet clothes.

And the brush of John’s fingertips along his jaw, got the first real sound out of him. A low moan, almost lost, but not ignored. Not when he felt John’s tongue run along his lips, and opened his mouth to him right after.

“-ohn? Brother John?”

John’s sharp inhale cut through the fog. Going still, he drew back, blue eyes wide open and staring directly at him.

There was a laugh in the distance. It joined the other voices as they called out, one more familiar than the others, and all asked for one person. John.

Staring up at him, up at John, he swallowed hard.

John was off of him soon after. The sunglasses hit the leaves by him, forgotten, and Sharky sat up as John paced a short track away from him.

Scrubbing his hair back, he let out a rough breath. “I have to- Joseph needs me to…” His voice trailed off as he turned towards him. But when their eyes met, there was no mistaking it. The pained look that crossed him, holding fast. “I’m sorry.”

John turned and left, heading off.

Stunned, Sharky sat there for a good five minutes, unmoving. Grabbing the glasses, he considered them for a second, staring off in the direction John went as his stomach twisted. The feeling brewing there digging at him, both hurt and frustrated.

Because he’d known what he’d wanted to happen there. What he’d let himself hope for as John drew close enough to touch, and he’d later drink himself stupid that night by the firepit trying to drown it all out.

He’d always been full of ideas. Both good and bad, with most leaning towards the latter.

So, maybe it wasn’t a surprise at all that he’d wanted to kiss him. It was easily his worst idea yet.

#far cry 5 #sharky boshaw #john seed #john seed/sharky boshaw #fanfiction #FC5 fanfiction #fic: I won't ask for much #fic series: we could make a home out of this

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