aubergines | ( #002 ) FAKE MARRIED AU

[She probably ought to have averted her gaze more, perhaps to let him feel more comfortable about stealing looks. She can tell he grabs a few however, and while Wanda's curious what he thinks, she doesn't press the matter. Her goal is to make him more comfortable, not less. Well, at least until she wants to make him a certain kind of uncomfortable then things will change quickly.

Giving him an easy smile in return, Wanda opens her eyes. She looks pleased, comfortable, and scoots a little closer so that her legs brush up against his.]

Thanks, happy to be here.

[She emphasizes the point by laying a hand on his leg. The tub is big enough she could probably settle against him comfortable, faced the same way, but that kind of closeness might be too much too soon. Better to take things in slow steps a little while longer.]

[ there are a lot of maybes, and a lot of the time daichi gets caught up in them. it was easier when it was just volleyball, because volleyball is simple. you did everything you could to win, whether that was training, making decisions, etc. that was easy because no matter what anyone's feelings were, they were all in it for the game. the team. now that it's something as complicated as appeasing his mother, it's just a long list of maybes.

but that's what suga is for, after all. they always seem to be perfectly matched both in and out of volleyball. and maybe it says something that when daichi thought need to find a 'fake' date it was soon followed by suga. maybe there's even more to the way those nervous butterflies in his stomach also translated into excitement. but that was all for another time.

daichi smiles sheepishly - small and only vaguely worried - his hand slipping to the back of his neck. ]

Maybe? I mean- you know them, you know what they can be like. [ does daichi mention that he also had felt uncomfortable with the idea of telling suga he was fake dating anyone else to appease his parents? because he knows that there would be a chance suga wouldn't approve and be a little disappointed in him? not at all.

but then suga's smiling and daichi is breathing again. he's also looking vaguely confused, like he hadn't thought about that at all. ]

Um. [ yeah no he definitely didn't. ] I don't know. Does it really matter? Couldn't it have just...happened?

[Boyd laughs softly. The idea of having aliens or vampires crash isn't so far fetched these days. The longer he's a werewolf, the crazier things get. He hasn't come across any literature for them yet so he thinks they're safe enough for this party.

He freezes up a little at the mention of dancing. He tilts his head noncommittally. He knows how to dance formally thanks to the ROTC, but that about ends his experience. People don't exactly ask him to dance so his experience is lacking.]

I don't know. [He rolls his shoulder back.] I don't do it much.

[faced against him might have been a mistake, yes, but leaning against him now, like this, isn't so bad. it's not too far removed from their weekend hangouts in the common rooms. just her and him, sort of cuddling as they read. or bathe now, apparently. yeah, he can deal with this. absolutely]

[letting out a slow breath, he tries for another smile, this one less wry, more real. he manages, for the most part, though there's a touch of nervousness to it] I figured. [a beat -- a moment of hesitation, really] I should, uh -- I'm not ... I won't hurt you.

[which is to say he can, in fact, do this without involving the Other Guy. or so all evidence leads him to believe, anyway]

[Wanda relaxes a little more herself, seeing that smile on his face. She's spent enough time around him to recognize the real ones from the tense ones. To tell when he's more at ease.

Of course Bruce wouldn't be Bruce if some other worry came to light. Wanda tilts her head to one side, and then reaches out, laying a hand on his knee. He's concerned, she understands why, but the thing is that she doesn't have the same worries he does.]

I know you won't. And if by some chance you found yourself changing...

[She pauses, thinking.]

For a while now I've been thinking that I could use my probability magic to prevent your transformation. So I think...perhaps you have that much more reason to relax tonight?

[ They’ve always meant to fit together, it’s true. Steve would attest to it. From boys, to teenagers, to young men, to adults. Steven Rogers and James Barnes were meant to be together. Not even time or serums or psychotic groups hellbent on world domination can change that. Circumstances may split them up more than they’d both like, but two halves of the same soul will always find their way back to each other. And Steve knows now that nothing’s going to change the basic core of them.

There’s nowhere else he’d rather be and no one else he’d rather be with. Bucky’s always been the one he’s wanted.

Right now, hard as it is, he’s not going to focus on waxing poetically about the stars in his eyes, but instead focus on the man beneath him that has fire on his tongue and ice in his touch. Which, as it turns out, is really pretty easy.

He wishes Bucky would touch him more, but he doesn’t want to force anything. It isn’t a secret that Bucky struggles with his left hand and whether or not he wants to use it in situations like these. Steve wants him to feel comfortable with it, encourages the use of it whenever he can, but he understands the hesitancy with which Bucky operates. So, as much as he’d like to just tell Bucky to put it on him, he wants to feel it, or even just physically put Bucky’s hand on him, he doesn’t. Instead he just attempts to not smile as Bucky bites his lip, but that turns out to be some sort of impossibility.

It’s hard not to when they’re in carefree moments like these. They’ve really never been afforded something like this. Even if they are on a mission right now.

Steve ducks down again to capture Bucky’s lips in a kiss, soft and lingering. One hand rests against Bucky’s side, fingers idly moving in a small tickling sort of motion. Not pulling away fully, he bumps their noses together. ]

Guess we’re in agreement then. [ Steve isn’t a smooth guy by any sense of the term, but he makes the attempt as he transitions from kissing Bucky’s mouth to moving down to his neck and further along to his collarbones. ] We’re just not leaving.

[ There are so many missions Bucky’s gone on where he’s been nothing but professional. Where he’s followed the parameters to the letter, barely cracked a smile, and was a stoic, cold, unpersonable pain in the ass until the bitter end because the difference between walking out of there whole and uninjured and getting hurt was staying sharp and on point. But he just doesn’t have it in him for this. HQ would probably say that it’s a sign that his training has broken down too much, that he’s getting soft in his retirement from being Hydra’s well-oiled gun.

Bucky would offer a different perspective. That someone higher up on the chain of command thought it would be a brilliant idea to assign him a “pretend to be married in the city of decadence” with the love of his life and contrary to Zola’s best attempts, he’s only human. There’s no way in hell he’d ever be able to resist this.

The twitching scritch of fingers at his side interrupts the kiss, makes his hips jerk against Steve’s in a way that isn’t arousal and has him huffing out a quiet, breathless laugh before he can stop it. He can’t remember the last time someone tried to tickle him. Literally. Though the sensation produces the now familiar ghost of a sense that it’s something that he ought to know from experience. Long, half-tortured, half-hilarious experience.

Steve shifting his attention from his mouth to his collarbone gives him the opportunity to try to disguise it with a shivery sort of twitch that’s not the least bit feigned. ]

Good. [ His metal fingers dip in, brush against Steve’s side and jerk back in an inverted flinch, waiting for Steve to do it by giving him the space. But a moment later they inch closer again, slowly extending until the tips rest against his skin. ] I like it here.

[ He cards his flesh hand through Steve’s hair, letting his head fall back against the pillow. Vegas is nice. They can be together without attracting attention, sure, but it’s more than that and he knows it. Probably, he ought to keep his mouth shut, but Steve’s lips on his skin has a habit of loosening his tongue and Bucky’s a little blunter now than he used to be. ]

I wish it was real. Us. [ It comes out before he realizes he’s going to say it, but it isn’t a lie, and he’s not going to back away from it. Of all the things he’s ashamed of in his life, his feelings for Steve aren’t among them. ] I like being married to you.

[Well, they'll see about that once this is all over. Not that she reserves the right to do the bickering-wife thing afterwards, but... old habits are what they are.

So Chloe says nothing on that point, other than a smile of thanks as she passes through the door and then turns to wait for him.]

Well, I... would be fine with lunch, as well.

[And then, more seriously she adds,] But we -- we have a while before we need to think of that, so... let us proceed.

[But despite that attempted business attitude, Chloe looks happy enough on their way over to the Count's estate -- and her forced-but-convincing cheer and and attitude might not be quite as forced tonight.]

[ the situation is dire and one diplomatic misstep might well mean the end of humanity — and yet, when his voice changes pitch over that hey!, steph can't help but let out a snort, dangerously close to actual laughter. ]

Can't handle the heat, Quill?

[he arches his eyebrows, wondering idly how that would go. that -- might be handy. not that he's planning on freaking out, even with her hand on his leg, even as nervous as he is, but in the right situation ... ]

[he should probably shelve that thought for the time being, however, and so he does, flashing her another smile] I'll keep that in mind. [a beat] And uh, yeah. That helps. [with the whole relaxing thing]

[His smile brightens her own, and Wanda slides her hand down and up his leg in an affectionate sort of way.]

You know, I quite like your smile. Do you suppose there's something I could do to make you do that more?

[She might be flirting a little, but honest to goodness she's trying not to be too intense about it. Light flirting. She can't help herself and she's hoping it won't make him more nervous.]

Could wash your hair for you if you wanted?

"You are my favorite," Avenger, fake husband, person. Darcy has simple needs really and right now the loudest one is for caffeine. And Sam got her favorite.

She didn't think anyone actually knew her favorite coffee. Except maybe Coulson, because there's pretty much nothing that the man doesn't know. She sips at it and immediately the hit of caramel and coffee and whipped cream hits her mouth and her eyes slip close as she makes a happy noise.

And JARVIS is no match for a bunch of military or suburban wives on a mission to figure out everything about their newest neighbor. Shit, the world's best interrogators aren't a match for a sweet southern lady armed with a smile and plate of cookies.

Darcy Lewis was brought up right, so she's actually looking forward to testing out some of those rusty skills. "Oh and I got the rings from R&D. Apparently there's a passive tracking device in them."

She's holding them in her other non-coffee hand and she's grinning as she offers him hers. "You do mine, I'll do yours?"

[and that alone is enough to get him to smile again, albeit with a measure of embarrassment. he's flattered, even if he gets that she's just flirting with him -- maybe because she is flirting with him. it's been awhile since anyone has and meant it or was even good at faking it. it's been awhile, period]

Well, uh -- [oh. right. question beyond his embarrassment and nerves and her hand on his leg. he clears his throat a little] -- yeah, sure?

[Wanda expects that smile to slip away but it doesn't mean that she's going to let it happen so easily.]

I know it's not as much as I promised yet but I am trying to keep from giving you a heart attack.

[She may be playing off his lack of smile as disappointment that she isn't offering more, even if she knows better. Grabbing a bottle of shampoo, she rises up onto her knees as she shifts her position to settle down between his knees. It puts her close to him without being pressed up between his legs or against his body, which hopefully will give him a chance to get used to it. She drops a little of the liquid into her hand, sets the bottle aside, and lathers it up.]

Besides, if you've never had someone wash your hair for you, you're in for a treat.

I appreciate it. [and that earns her another smile, though this one is laced dry not-quite-humor. yeah, a heart attack would be bad and more for her than for him, regardless of her magic]

[but at any rate, he wets his lips with his tongue as she comes to rest between his knees, watching her, trying to decide what he wants to do with this, exactly, and then slowly and for lack of something better to do with his hands, he touches his fingers to her hip, lightly, almost steadyingly. it'd kind kill things if she slipped and fell back into the water or something, too. right. yeah. that's his excuse]

I think the closest I've ever come is letting someone else give me a haircut, so ...

[Wanda doesn't expect him to touch her, honestly, even though she's put herself well within reach. He's seemed a bit too skittish still, even with all of the warm, sudsy water to put him at ease. She smiles at the contact, however, leans into it a little to show it's welcome as she reaches up.]

Well then just tip your head back a bit and feel free to close your eyes if you like.

[Or he can keep them open. She's certain she makes quite the sight. Of course, her focus isn't on that, but on him. She spreads the shampoo into his hair and begins massaging it in, fingertips firm and tracing circles into his scalp with a smile light on her lips.]

[he just -- he doesn't want her to mistake his nerves for disinterest. he is interested, God, he is, even if he's still a little uncertain about the age gap, it's just been awhile. and he's not sure what constitutes too fast, if this is going to be a thing or a one night thing, or -- ]

[and there goes his train of thought, massaged away by her fingers. letting his eyes slide half-closed, he makes a small noise at the back of his throat, one he can't quite help, and leans into her fingers. yeah, okay, she wasn't kidding. that's nice]

Sam smiles as she makes grabby hands, face lit up with happiness at the taste of caramel and coffee upon her tongue. The little noise she makes is cute, and Sam rocks back upon his heels, sipping at his coffee to hide the huge sappy grin that takes over his mouth.

"Yeah?" That...actually makes him feel a whole lot better about this whole thing. He settles his coffee aside, gently taking her hand between the both of his. There's nobody around really, and certainly nobody looking at them, so Sam goes down on one knee, looking up at Darcy with mock seriousness, "Ms. Darcy Lewis, will you do me the pleasure of being my pretend wife?"

Because his girl's gotta have the real fake deal, okay. His mouth curls up with a pleased grin, brows lifted as he awaits her answer. It's all rather cheesy and sweet and Sam's having a blast. They haven't even gotten to their new lives but golly gee this will be fun. And dangerous. Probably deadly.

Sounds like every other Tuesday, really.

[Ah, and there it is. That moment when she can actually see and feel some of the tension ease out of him. With a soft chuckle, she takes her time not only working the shampoo through his his hair but working her fingertips into his scalp. Her hands smooth over the side of his head, and one comes to rest at the top near his forehead as another moves behind his head. She even goes so far as to massage the nape of his neck between thumb and forefinger, slow and easy. All things considered, she'd like to see him melt a bit into it before making a move.

Of course that sound he makes at the back of his throat certainly warms her from the inside out.]

Good?

"I will absolutely do you the honor and the pleasure, Mr. Wilson." Darcy murmured, blushing as Sam has dropped to one knee and damn she wishes this were for real instead of a job cause that's a nice picture in front of her and she's into it. She's more into it than she previously thought.

The ring is a perfect fit too. Which of course it is because they work for geniuses. But she's smiling at him, not the normal grin but a softer smile meant only really for him.

"And will you do me the honor, Captain Wilson? Being my cover husband for this adventure?"

[his fingers curl against her hip, the tension bleeding out of him more and more with every passing second. to the point where he sinks under the release, to the point where, eventually, his face is almost buried in her chest. not that he seems to notice this or care, if he does]

Yeah. It's -- yeah.

[And there it is. The curl of his fingers, the way he leans in toward her...

It's rather humbling, all things considered. Bruce doesn't strike her as a man who trusts or lets his guard down easily. Leaning closer, she uses her hands to gently guide him closer, to see what he'll do if she draws him in so that they connect, even as her fingers continue to work their magic over his skin. It's careful, careful, even as her breathing begins to grow shallow.]

You could, but I don't want anything for myself. [ Michael continued to guide Shatterstar to place where they could sit and talk, quietly and away from prying eyes. He then pulled away enough to let Shatterstar sit first - he could play a gentleman, even if it was in a bit of an old-fashioned manner. He wondered if Shatterstar would interpret it that way and if he would take offense to being put in an old-fashioned, feminine role, if only for that moment. ]

Would speaking in Spanish make you more comfortable? [ He spoke in the named language, looking to the redhead with innocent curiosity. ] Or is it only for your lover?

He beams at her before looking down as he gently slips the ring on her finger. It fits perfectly, and Sam doesn't doubt that his own will fit just as perfectly too. Still, he gets to his feet, somewhat starstruck by the soft little smile she's got on her face. It makes her features gentle, softer, lacking that somewhat impish delight and humor at everything that Darcy generally totes about.

"I'd be more than willing, Mrs. Wilson." He murmurs back, holding his hand out for her to take and adorn with a ring. And then impishly, he grins. "Or are we going with Mr. Lewis?"

[oh. well. that's -- yeah, that's her chest his nose, his lips are brushing against, now. he inhales a little sharply, upon realizing that, but forces himself not to recoil. he does, however, tense again, faintly, before taking a moment, frozen there, to force himself to relax]

[this is alright. this was always where they were going with this. she's comfortable with it. she's more than comfortable if her breathing is any indication. they're both consenting adults. and so on and so forth]

[he exhales as he reaches the end of the little list he's composed in his head, breath warm and light on her skin, and forces himself to relax again -- the fact that she still hasn't stopped with playing with his hair helps. once he's managed and tentatively, almost questioningly (is this alright?), he slides the hand at her hip up her side to rest on the side of her breast. a moment after that and he's flicking lightly at her nipple with his tongue]

( #002 ) FAKE MARRIED AU

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thank you thank you

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excellent. my land of wifi-lessness was a little less so, sadly

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...and now a new PB

Re: hell ye

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