RighteousRiot
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"Do you trust me?" Dean asks. "Really trust me?"
"Dean what -" Sam's face is a mask of concern, his eyebrows pinched in that way that could go cute or bitchy depending on which way the mood drops. His eyes lock onto Dean's hand, on the object held there. His favorite knife, pearl handled and collapsible, blade small enough for the most precise cuts. "Dean, what are you doing?"
Interconnected one shots that span the course of the series. Each chapter falls within the same timeline but will begin and end on it's own.
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Like the Very Best of Friends by RighteousRiot for paperstorm
Fandoms: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
22 Jan 2021
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They had told Nile only yesterday that over the years Joe had occasionally had to leave art pieces behind due to their size or sudden departures and that it had become somewhat of a game to go through and see what historians made of their discovery.
“Nicky is naked in a lot of them,” Booker had deadpanned, falsely assuming that would qualify as a deterrent.
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Initially the idea had seemed fun, a nice little way to build the anticipation between the two of them while Chris was away. It had been the eve of his flight out for the latest round of press and Chris had turned to him, both of them still breathing hard and sweating through the sheets, to say “What if I asked you not to come again until I got back?” His eyes had gone a little dark at the thought, locking in on Sebastian’s wet parted lips. “No. What if I TOLD you not to?”
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“How’s this?” Chris asked, rocking his pelvis a little. “Huh? Wanna give me any lip? Where’s that snark, Seb, huh? Lemme hear it.” Another rock of his hips, this one rough around the edges.
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Set just before the end of The Winter Soldier and afterwards. Follow the boys as they go through the aftermath of what's happened and how they'll deal with it.
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"You do know this doesn't count as therapy, right?" Jack asks, even as he reaches over Robby's warm and waiting body, stretching his own body to grab the bottle of lube from the bedside table drawer.
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- English
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Bookmarked by RighteousRiot
08 Feb 2026
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“I should be doing that,” Robby protests as Jack rises from bed, grabbing his crutch from the bedside and hopping to the bathroom.
Running the water, Jack rolls his eyes because his back is facing Robby and he can't see it. He doesn't hide his little exasperated sigh, however. “Why, because you’re the top, or because you get itchy whenever someone does something for you in a way you can’t pay back or reciprocate?” Jack asks.
Bookmarked by RighteousRiot
07 Feb 2026
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“I feel like a clown,” Robby grumbles, surprised the gown isn’t tight in the shoulders like he thought it would be, “or maybe like the Michelin Man.”
Jack steps back, hands dragging down Robby’s arms, fingers slipping between the pleats of fabric until they tangle with Robby’s own, fingers hooked together, Jack keeping their arms raised so he can take all of Robby in, “Lookin good to me.”
Robby finally meets Jack’s eyes. They’re half-lidded, hungry, the way he looks before kissing the breath out of Robby, “You cannot be serious right now.”
“As a heart attack,” Jack steps back, pulling Robby down with him on the couch, “how can I convince you that you’re unfairly attractive in this?”
(Or: Robby has to wear his graduation regalia; Jack isn't normal about it)
Bookmarked by RighteousRiot
07 Feb 2026
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“I could help you.” Jack says, words coming out before he can even consider the thought, “When do you need to get your cycle logged?”
Robby turns his gaze back to Jack, eyebrows raised, “You offering to be my cycle partner, Jack?”
(Or: Alpha!Jack helps Omega!Robby out, nbd)
Bookmarked by RighteousRiot
06 Feb 2026
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He focuses on Robby, ignoring the slides behind him. Noting the gentle product he ran through his hair this morning, dabbed lightly on the tips of his fingers and guided through bed-fluffy strands. Appreciating the apples of his cheeks and the light flush that fades into his beard, the way his lips curl around certain words and his tongue darts out to dampen them.
Occasionally, Robby’s eyes will meet his own. Holding on for a syllable or two before fluttering off to another audience member, always engaging, always welcoming someone in.
For fifteen minutes Robby speaks, for fifteen minutes Jack holds tight on to shore.
(or: Jack spirals; Robby worships his body)
Bookmarked by RighteousRiot
05 Feb 2026