13 Sep 2021
“You put a hit out on my Lieutenant?”
Bookmarked by RealClever
14 Sep 2021
Mustang threatens mafia boss
08 Aug 2021
The fact that Hawkeye is Roy's subordinate is actually the least of his concerns. The least of the reasons why Roy keeps his distance, outside of their working relationship. It is difficult to keep his Lieutenant at arm’s length when all he wants to do is drag her closer and closer to him, pull her deeper into his orbit, but it has to be done.
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31 Aug 2021
Roy has even thought of her as Hawkeye for all these years, in a vain attempt to create some professional distance between them. He never fully realized what a beautiful name she has. It is short and intimate, and as sweet in his mouth as a ripe plum. He could get used to this.
A flicker of happiness crosses Hawkeye’s - Riza’s - face. It is the tentative happiness that Riza sometimes displays; a relic of a childhood and adolescence where happiness was fleeting, and quickly replaced by melancholy. He would like to see more of that. He is in a position to give her more of that. For the first time, the thought isn’t immediately chased by fear of bringing her sadness and disappointment instead.
Riza moves closer and rests her head against his shoulder carefully, unfazed by his still-damp dress shirt. Before she can pull back, Roy puts his arm around her, keeping her close to him. He turns his head to the side, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I love you, Riza.” The words have a strange sense of gravity to them. He knows - he hopes - that he will be saying these words a great deal in the years to come.
Riza leans into him. “I love you too.”
She is the one who bridges the distance between them to kiss him. Her lips are warm and soft against his own, and both of them make twin sounds of utter satisfaction and pleasure at the touch as they melt into one another. Roy cups the back of Riza’s head with one hand, gently tangling his fingers in her hair, easing her closer to him. She wraps one arm around his shoulders and the other over his chest and leans fully against him, and Roy hasn’t experienced joy as pure as this in a long time.
Kissing has always been something he has done just as an obligatory prelude to what he really wanted. As a matter of course; almost a formality, something necessary to set a romantic mood for the night. It was always pleasant, but he gained little real satisfaction from it. Even when he fantasized about Riza over the years, he hadn’t spent much time thinking about just kissing her.
This is different. It is easier than talking, than being so brutally honest, earlier. It is an easier way to show her exactly how much he loves her, and Roy pulls Riza closer, until she is on his lap. He braces one hand on her back, the other still in her hair, cradling the back of her head. This is more incredible than he could have dreamed, after such a long time spent keeping Riza at a distance. He wants to drown her in love; to make up for lost time and never let her go. He wants to drown in it with her.
Roy doesn’t realize how hard he is kissing her, how intensely, how hungrily, until Riza makes a small sound. She cups his face in her hands and starts reciprocating his kisses more slowly, showing him a pace she is more comfortable with. He takes the cue, slowing down until he matches her. “Better?” he asks, between kisses.
Riza answers him by moving to straddle his lap. She snuggles close, tilting his face just a little up to hers, and kisses him again. Roy lets her set the pace, stroking her back through her bathrobe - which has only absorbed more moisture from his own wet clothes - and pajama top. Normally he would be planning how to escalate things, and figuring out a smooth line to use to get her either into the bedroom or out of her clothes, but it doesn’t seem like a priority right now. He could just keep kissing Riza tonight and be content with her hands caressing his shoulders and arms, her mouth on his, the kisses she trails down his jawbone.
"And would you say it's possible that Parker manipulated you into your so-called-relationship because of your inexperience with your peers?"
For a brief moment, MJ understands why the officers handcuffed her to the interrogation table when she arrived. The impulse to throw the lukewarm tea they offered her in this jerk's face is strong. Tragically, he's too far away for the liquid to reach.
Michelle feels herself bristle. "Peter Parker is the least manipulative person I've ever met."
"Well, forgive me for saying so, miss, but you're biased."
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29 Aug 2021
He wasn't a villain but this investigator might be, she reasons. After all, two teenage kids did not cause an international incident. They didn't have the resources or the motive. Except she'd seen those signs outside the station. Michelle had heard what those people were spitting at Peter about how his aspiration to be the next Tony Stark had corrupted him. How he'd gone bad wanting to be the best. Like a kid from Queens who helped old ladies cross the street could be capable of such diabolical schemes.
She knows where she fits into this story, too. She knows how she looks to someone from the outside. This temptress, fame-seeking black girl had lured Tony Stark's protege into wanting more. To impress her. And she'd convinced him to kill Beck. Or he'd done it for her. Or or or.
The stories will write themselves in the depths of the internet. She will make such a pretty, convenient villain.
"You know he didn't kill him. But you don't really care, do you?"
The officer stands up and straightens his tie. "You better find some friends, Miss Jones. You're gonna need them."
Fandoms: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
03 Oct 2020
Daisy’s still looking at him, her gaze burning into him like a brand. “Deke, that’s…”
He can’t let her finish, because he knows if she asks him to, he’ll stay. He’ll find a way to stay. He can’t be the cause of her pain. “And honestly…” He scoffs, trying to clear the wetness from his eyes, the shaking of his voice. He wants this; he’ll swear up and down he does. “I’m kind of a rock god here, anyway.”
(Deke says his goodbyes to the team in 7x13.)
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28 Aug 2021
The silence hangs there for a second, and Deke opens his mouth—to say what, he doesn’t really know, but something—
“I’ll stay,” Sousa announces. After a moment of shock, Deke’s eyes flick immediately to Daisy, the crushed look on her face, and the only thing he can think about is how much this will hurt her. “I belong here,” Sousa continues. “I’ve already been given the privilege of a second chance, of meeting all you…fine people.” He puts hand on Deke’s shoulder, as if in forgiveness for coming up with this plan, and he knows how much Sousa simply doesn’t get it.
“Uh, Lincoln Campbell. He…he was the first Inhuman that I became close with. He fought at our side, and he—he died. He died for me, really. Right when we were getting going, or, you know, getting good.”
“Which is why I can’t lose anyone else.”
I can’t lose anyone else.
Sousa turns to Daisy, taking both of her gauntleted hands in his. “It’s only right. If the Army taught me anything, it’s that…”
Except it’s not right.
It’s not right at all and the last thing Daisy needs is lose someone she cares about again and Deke… Deke can prevent that from happening. He knows how much this will hurt her, how much she fears this, how much she still wakes up terrified in the middle of the night because “where ever she goes, death follows” and “you can’t just die for me like this, it’s…it’s wrong,” and he’s been there, and he knows.
And he also knows that it has to be someone, and that his loss would be the one that would hurt her the least. Who else is there? May, her mother in all but blood, Coulson, her father, her best friends Fitz and Simmons, Mack and Yo-Yo, her partners in crime with years of history between them… Even Sousa, who they’ve only known less than a week, but who has somehow managed to draw out a side of Daisy that is happy and hopeful and playful, a side that looks to the future instead of being mired in the past, a side that Deke has never seen.
Whereas he…he’s the misfit, the one who’s never quite fit in with the rest of the team. Useful and utilized, yes, but never fully accepted, never made part of that bond they all share. Sure, he’s made strides with Nana and Mack and occasionally Daisy but he’s not…one of them. Sousa walked in and made himself at home but it’s not like that for Deke, it’s never been like that in his whole life, and he doesn’t begrudge them that because of it. It’s not them, it’s him, and that just means…he’s not someone they need.
Cold, hard certainty steals over him at the thought, his heart hammering in his chest.
But Sousa’s still talking, cradling her hands between them, the look in his eyes gentle and determined and so fucking noble. “It’s that you can’t—”
So he gives him a thumbs-down sign and makes the rudest sound he can think of, “Pbbbbbht!,” and hopes it covers up the tremor in his hands and voice as he makes his stand. “I’ll stay.”
“We kissed. Or, I kissed him. During the time loop. And I…” She swallows. “I want to pursue it. Pursue him.”
“You and Sousa,” Deke repeats, as if it doesn’t quite compute. She can see in his eyes the moment it hits him, though, a flash of pain he quickly tries to hide, ducking his head to stare at the floor.
“I wanted you to hear it from me, first,” Daisy says again, softer than the first time.
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28 Aug 2021
Yeah, his bunk. That’s a good idea. The fastest way to the stairs up to them is through Mission Control and the lab again, but this time he hopes his Nana isn’t there, because he’s in no mood to talk to anyone anymore.
And he gets his wish, because Simmons is nowhere to be seen, but perhaps he should have chosen a better wish.
“No, I’m fine,” Daisy says softly, her head tilted slightly up to address Sousa. “The chamber fixed the last of it; I feel close to full strength again.” She smiles, a gentle, open thing that makes Deke’s heart clench, sending another physical stab of pain through him. And the way Sousa looks at her, soft and protective and admiration shining through every inch—because who could look at Daisy Johnson with anything other than admiration? “Thank you, though.”
A lump rises in his throat, choking him.
“Well, still, it can’t have been easy,” Sousa tells her. “If you need anything—”
“Trust me, I know,” Daisy says with another upward quirk of her lips. Her eyes slide sideways to Deke, still standing in the doorway for the second time that day. She’s stepping away from Sousa before she’s even met his eyes, the smile fading from her face. And all of a sudden…
All of a sudden, Deke feels like an idiot, for an entirely different reason.
Of course Daisy cares about him. She’s holding herself back from Sousa for his sake. She came and told him first because she was doing her best not to hurt him.
And he, to put it in lovely 21st century terms, is being a dick. If he really cares about her, he has to let her go and pursue what will make her happy, not drag her down with him because his feelings got hurt. It’s not about whether or not he’s enough; Daisy has been through so much in her life—and yeah, they all have, but that’s not what this is about—and she finally has a chance at happiness and he’s preventing her from taking it?
He knows her history with Ward, with Lincoln, with Miles even because she trusted him enough to tell him. He knows how monumental this is for her, how broken she still is over Lincoln, how much fear she still harbors about even the possibility of letting anyone else in, letting anyone else close to her like that, for their sake as much as hers. He knows how much she struggles with allowing anyone else take care of her, or take the hit so she doesn’t have to. He knows this because he has been here, and who is he to begrudge Sousa that chance?
If he can make her happy…
Well, that’s what Deke’s wanted most of all, really…even if it’s not with him.