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@agentbuck-bullet
INTRO POST
Father first.
Do not tell my current employers about this account, okay?
— 𝗔 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗣 .
[ open rp ! ]
!! TW: Gun injury, slight description of death
The entire apartment is filled with small learning toys and bluey merchandise scattered in no attempt to look pretty. Agent buck...sometimes called Agent bullet was trying to get his fussy toddler to sleep. Lance was having none of that. He insisted on playing with his toys or having a book read to him, but Buck has had a full day of killing people for the mayor. His son knew as much as the public if not less. "My Daddy works for the mayor!" Lance would brag to his friends at kindergarten. Buck at the sound of footsteps shoves a toy into his son's lap "You can play with those as long as you want." He practically tip toes out to the other room, hand on his hidden gun until the door is shut and locked from the outside. He holds the gun at the figure.
He couldn't figure out who the man was. Buck assumed Fisk finally figured out what he was doing with the vigilantes and decided to end the stream of information.
Dex hacked up blood and wheezed out a breath, his eyes trained onto the gun held up at him. 'Fuckin-A,' he thought. He figured he'd have to kill this guy if he tried anything. When he realized it was none other than Buck, Dex took a step closer, his boots dragging against the hardwood as he approached him. He removed his mask with some trouble, then held his hands up, his stomach flexing as blood continued to seep out of his bullet wound.
Dex coughed out the man's name, a desperate lilt at the end. "Buck."
Dex's knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor, shuddering at the loss of blood. Dex felt like a dead man. This wasn't supposed to happen. He cursed under his breath and pushed himself up against the wall closest to him.
"Dex? Why the fucking hell are you in my house??" He puts his gun away and turns on the lamp with a press of his foot. Buck kicks away the toys and shuts the widow, blinds, then blackout curtains before checking the lock on his sons bedroom. Buck takes himself to Ben "Do you need help, bullseye?"
"Oh I don't know," he sarcastically replied, coughing again. "Jus' decided I'd take a stroll through the neighborhood."
Dex watched Buck as he blocked the city out of his apartment. He was hiding this. Anyone would. Dex thought it amusing that Fisk's right-hand man hadn't killed him by now. Of course, he'd heard of the rumors — about Buck being secretly disloyal to Fisk. He smirked despite the throbbing pain in his side, feeling arrogant. The feeling quickly subsided, however, and he silently nodded at Buck's question.
"Yes. Now."
"Say please at least." He teases. Fortunately lance had an accident yesterday and Buck didn't have time to put everything away because he's been putting in extra hours.
He grabs the pack from the bathroom counter before approaching again, still waiting for the word. "My toddler can say it, so can you."
Dex blinked, guffawed by Buck's request. He tilted his head, his palm pressing harder against his bullet wound. He was stubborn. He straightened out instead and eyed the pack in Buck's hand like a predator wanting to strike.
"Fucking—" Dex cut himself off, frustrated. He glared at Buck and relented, knowing if he stalled too long, he'd pass out. He already felt his body slowing, his mind spotting. He gritted the word out between his bloodied teeth. "Please."
"You got it!" He kneels beside the man, pulling out the kit he didn't even bother to zip up last night.
"You want the full spa treatment or just a stitch up?" He already knew the answer but if he's going to he betraying the mayor, might as well have fun with it. He finds the way past the suit, despite it being skin tight and begins stitching the wound.
Dex held back an irritated sigh as Buck knelt down beside him. He craned his head back and looked around the apartment, cataloging all the furniture and decor into his mind. He gave a hum as a response at first, distracted by the toys on the floor. Right. He had a kid.
"Jus' a stitch up," Dex answered properly.
Dex held his compression shirt up, watching Buck clean the wound. His face stayed relaxed, almost emotionless in the contrasting lighting of the lamplight. He breathed in, attempting casual conversation.
"How's your kid?"
"He should be sleeping. But you know toddlers." He continues to help the 'villain' until he's not gushing out.
"I really don't."
Dex fidgeted with his free hand, wincing a little as he felt the needle and thread piercing his skin. He hated this. Needed to get back to his place. He had a routine to fulfill. The thoughts continued to plague his mind, only aggravating him more. He had calculated wrong. He'd done good work, but now his neighbor will question his state and reasons for being up later.
"Well they're grumpy. God I hope he doesn't wake up." Saying the state Lance was in, theres a guarantee hes passed out with his toys on his face by now. But he did have a habit of waking up in the middle of the night.
Dex, being the piece of shit he was, grinned ear to ear. "Hey I'm sure he wouldn't mind. He doesn't watch the news, does he?"
He often found the news amusing. It was entertainment instead of what the news should actually be. Informative. True. Really, they always made him look more unhinged than he actually was. 'I'm perfectly sane,' he thought. 'I have a compass. I have my mind back.'
"No. Too much bullshit happens in new york. Its not good for a toddler." He didn't want Lance to see what his employer was up to. He's been teaching the boy to be a good person but everything Fisk and Buck do is the opposite.
"But workin' for the mayor is?" Dex questioned, knowing full well the reason. He just wanted to piss Buck off. It'd get him out of here faster. His hazel eyes shifted to stare at a baseball on the floor, and he tilted his head, almost curious.
"Don't you think telling him now would stop the pain of him finding out years later?"
"Hes four years old. I'm not going to tell him his dad..." He changes to a whisper as if afraid lance was going to develop super hearing in this very moment "kills people"
"I'll get out of this stupid job then tell him when hes older." Buck was sure what to do but telling Lance what he did to live in this expensive city was not something he was going to do.
— 𝗔 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗣 .
[ open rp ! ]
!! TW: Gun injury, slight description of death
The entire apartment is filled with small learning toys and bluey merchandise scattered in no attempt to look pretty. Agent buck...sometimes called Agent bullet was trying to get his fussy toddler to sleep. Lance was having none of that. He insisted on playing with his toys or having a book read to him, but Buck has had a full day of killing people for the mayor. His son knew as much as the public if not less. "My Daddy works for the mayor!" Lance would brag to his friends at kindergarten. Buck at the sound of footsteps shoves a toy into his son's lap "You can play with those as long as you want." He practically tip toes out to the other room, hand on his hidden gun until the door is shut and locked from the outside. He holds the gun at the figure.
He couldn't figure out who the man was. Buck assumed Fisk finally figured out what he was doing with the vigilantes and decided to end the stream of information.
Dex hacked up blood and wheezed out a breath, his eyes trained onto the gun held up at him. 'Fuckin-A,' he thought. He figured he'd have to kill this guy if he tried anything. When he realized it was none other than Buck, Dex took a step closer, his boots dragging against the hardwood as he approached him. He removed his mask with some trouble, then held his hands up, his stomach flexing as blood continued to seep out of his bullet wound.
Dex coughed out the man's name, a desperate lilt at the end. "Buck."
Dex's knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor, shuddering at the loss of blood. Dex felt like a dead man. This wasn't supposed to happen. He cursed under his breath and pushed himself up against the wall closest to him.
"Dex? Why the fucking hell are you in my house??" He puts his gun away and turns on the lamp with a press of his foot. Buck kicks away the toys and shuts the widow, blinds, then blackout curtains before checking the lock on his sons bedroom. Buck takes himself to Ben "Do you need help, bullseye?"
"Oh I don't know," he sarcastically replied, coughing again. "Jus' decided I'd take a stroll through the neighborhood."
Dex watched Buck as he blocked the city out of his apartment. He was hiding this. Anyone would. Dex thought it amusing that Fisk's right-hand man hadn't killed him by now. Of course, he'd heard of the rumors — about Buck being secretly disloyal to Fisk. He smirked despite the throbbing pain in his side, feeling arrogant. The feeling quickly subsided, however, and he silently nodded at Buck's question.
"Yes. Now."
"Say please at least." He teases. Fortunately lance had an accident yesterday and Buck didn't have time to put everything away because he's been putting in extra hours.
He grabs the pack from the bathroom counter before approaching again, still waiting for the word. "My toddler can say it, so can you."
Dex blinked, guffawed by Buck's request. He tilted his head, his palm pressing harder against his bullet wound. He was stubborn. He straightened out instead and eyed the pack in Buck's hand like a predator wanting to strike.
"Fucking—" Dex cut himself off, frustrated. He glared at Buck and relented, knowing if he stalled too long, he'd pass out. He already felt his body slowing, his mind spotting. He gritted the word out between his bloodied teeth. "Please."
"You got it!" He kneels beside the man, pulling out the kit he didn't even bother to zip up last night.
"You want the full spa treatment or just a stitch up?" He already knew the answer but if he's going to he betraying the mayor, might as well have fun with it. He finds the way past the suit, despite it being skin tight and begins stitching the wound.
Dex held back an irritated sigh as Buck knelt down beside him. He craned his head back and looked around the apartment, cataloging all the furniture and decor into his mind. He gave a hum as a response at first, distracted by the toys on the floor. Right. He had a kid.
"Jus' a stitch up," Dex answered properly.
Dex held his compression shirt up, watching Buck clean the wound. His face stayed relaxed, almost emotionless in the contrasting lighting of the lamplight. He breathed in, attempting casual conversation.
"How's your kid?"
"He should be sleeping. But you know toddlers." He continues to help the 'villain' until he's not gushing out.
"I really don't."
Dex fidgeted with his free hand, wincing a little as he felt the needle and thread piercing his skin. He hated this. Needed to get back to his place. He had a routine to fulfill. The thoughts continued to plague his mind, only aggravating him more. He had calculated wrong. He'd done good work, but now his neighbor will question his state and reasons for being up later.
"Well they're grumpy. God I hope he doesn't wake up." Saying the state Lance was in, theres a guarantee hes passed out with his toys on his face by now. But he did have a habit of waking up in the middle of the night.
Dex, being the piece of shit he was, grinned ear to ear. "Hey I'm sure he wouldn't mind. He doesn't watch the news, does he?"
He often found the news amusing. It was entertainment instead of what the news should actually be. Informative. True. Really, they always made him look more unhinged than he actually was. 'I'm perfectly sane,' he thought. 'I have a compass. I have my mind back.'
"No. Too much bullshit happens in new york. Its not good for a toddler." He didn't want Lance to see what his employer was up to. He's been teaching the boy to be a good person but everything Fisk and Buck do is the opposite.
— 𝗔 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗣 .
[ open rp ! ]
!! TW: Gun injury, slight description of death
The entire apartment is filled with small learning toys and bluey merchandise scattered in no attempt to look pretty. Agent buck...sometimes called Agent bullet was trying to get his fussy toddler to sleep. Lance was having none of that. He insisted on playing with his toys or having a book read to him, but Buck has had a full day of killing people for the mayor. His son knew as much as the public if not less. "My Daddy works for the mayor!" Lance would brag to his friends at kindergarten. Buck at the sound of footsteps shoves a toy into his son's lap "You can play with those as long as you want." He practically tip toes out to the other room, hand on his hidden gun until the door is shut and locked from the outside. He holds the gun at the figure.
He couldn't figure out who the man was. Buck assumed Fisk finally figured out what he was doing with the vigilantes and decided to end the stream of information.
Dex hacked up blood and wheezed out a breath, his eyes trained onto the gun held up at him. 'Fuckin-A,' he thought. He figured he'd have to kill this guy if he tried anything. When he realized it was none other than Buck, Dex took a step closer, his boots dragging against the hardwood as he approached him. He removed his mask with some trouble, then held his hands up, his stomach flexing as blood continued to seep out of his bullet wound.
Dex coughed out the man's name, a desperate lilt at the end. "Buck."
Dex's knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor, shuddering at the loss of blood. Dex felt like a dead man. This wasn't supposed to happen. He cursed under his breath and pushed himself up against the wall closest to him.
"Dex? Why the fucking hell are you in my house??" He puts his gun away and turns on the lamp with a press of his foot. Buck kicks away the toys and shuts the widow, blinds, then blackout curtains before checking the lock on his sons bedroom. Buck takes himself to Ben "Do you need help, bullseye?"
"Oh I don't know," he sarcastically replied, coughing again. "Jus' decided I'd take a stroll through the neighborhood."
Dex watched Buck as he blocked the city out of his apartment. He was hiding this. Anyone would. Dex thought it amusing that Fisk's right-hand man hadn't killed him by now. Of course, he'd heard of the rumors — about Buck being secretly disloyal to Fisk. He smirked despite the throbbing pain in his side, feeling arrogant. The feeling quickly subsided, however, and he silently nodded at Buck's question.
"Yes. Now."
"Say please at least." He teases. Fortunately lance had an accident yesterday and Buck didn't have time to put everything away because he's been putting in extra hours.
He grabs the pack from the bathroom counter before approaching again, still waiting for the word. "My toddler can say it, so can you."
Dex blinked, guffawed by Buck's request. He tilted his head, his palm pressing harder against his bullet wound. He was stubborn. He straightened out instead and eyed the pack in Buck's hand like a predator wanting to strike.
"Fucking—" Dex cut himself off, frustrated. He glared at Buck and relented, knowing if he stalled too long, he'd pass out. He already felt his body slowing, his mind spotting. He gritted the word out between his bloodied teeth. "Please."
"You got it!" He kneels beside the man, pulling out the kit he didn't even bother to zip up last night.
"You want the full spa treatment or just a stitch up?" He already knew the answer but if he's going to he betraying the mayor, might as well have fun with it. He finds the way past the suit, despite it being skin tight and begins stitching the wound.
Dex held back an irritated sigh as Buck knelt down beside him. He craned his head back and looked around the apartment, cataloging all the furniture and decor into his mind. He gave a hum as a response at first, distracted by the toys on the floor. Right. He had a kid.
"Jus' a stitch up," Dex answered properly.
Dex held his compression shirt up, watching Buck clean the wound. His face stayed relaxed, almost emotionless in the contrasting lighting of the lamplight. He breathed in, attempting casual conversation.
"How's your kid?"
"He should be sleeping. But you know toddlers." He continues to help the 'villain' until he's not gushing out.
"I really don't."
Dex fidgeted with his free hand, wincing a little as he felt the needle and thread piercing his skin. He hated this. Needed to get back to his place. He had a routine to fulfill. The thoughts continued to plague his mind, only aggravating him more. He had calculated wrong. He'd done good work, but now his neighbor will question his state and reasons for being up later.
"Well they're grumpy. God I hope he doesn't wake up." Saying the state Lance was in, theres a guarantee hes passed out with his toys on his face by now. But he did have a habit of waking up in the middle of the night.
— 𝗔 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗣 .
[ open rp ! ]
!! TW: Gun injury, slight description of death
The entire apartment is filled with small learning toys and bluey merchandise scattered in no attempt to look pretty. Agent buck...sometimes called Agent bullet was trying to get his fussy toddler to sleep. Lance was having none of that. He insisted on playing with his toys or having a book read to him, but Buck has had a full day of killing people for the mayor. His son knew as much as the public if not less. "My Daddy works for the mayor!" Lance would brag to his friends at kindergarten. Buck at the sound of footsteps shoves a toy into his son's lap "You can play with those as long as you want." He practically tip toes out to the other room, hand on his hidden gun until the door is shut and locked from the outside. He holds the gun at the figure.
He couldn't figure out who the man was. Buck assumed Fisk finally figured out what he was doing with the vigilantes and decided to end the stream of information.
Dex hacked up blood and wheezed out a breath, his eyes trained onto the gun held up at him. 'Fuckin-A,' he thought. He figured he'd have to kill this guy if he tried anything. When he realized it was none other than Buck, Dex took a step closer, his boots dragging against the hardwood as he approached him. He removed his mask with some trouble, then held his hands up, his stomach flexing as blood continued to seep out of his bullet wound.
Dex coughed out the man's name, a desperate lilt at the end. "Buck."
Dex's knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor, shuddering at the loss of blood. Dex felt like a dead man. This wasn't supposed to happen. He cursed under his breath and pushed himself up against the wall closest to him.
"Dex? Why the fucking hell are you in my house??" He puts his gun away and turns on the lamp with a press of his foot. Buck kicks away the toys and shuts the widow, blinds, then blackout curtains before checking the lock on his sons bedroom. Buck takes himself to Ben "Do you need help, bullseye?"
"Oh I don't know," he sarcastically replied, coughing again. "Jus' decided I'd take a stroll through the neighborhood."
Dex watched Buck as he blocked the city out of his apartment. He was hiding this. Anyone would. Dex thought it amusing that Fisk's right-hand man hadn't killed him by now. Of course, he'd heard of the rumors — about Buck being secretly disloyal to Fisk. He smirked despite the throbbing pain in his side, feeling arrogant. The feeling quickly subsided, however, and he silently nodded at Buck's question.
"Yes. Now."
"Say please at least." He teases. Fortunately lance had an accident yesterday and Buck didn't have time to put everything away because he's been putting in extra hours.
He grabs the pack from the bathroom counter before approaching again, still waiting for the word. "My toddler can say it, so can you."
Dex blinked, guffawed by Buck's request. He tilted his head, his palm pressing harder against his bullet wound. He was stubborn. He straightened out instead and eyed the pack in Buck's hand like a predator wanting to strike.
"Fucking—" Dex cut himself off, frustrated. He glared at Buck and relented, knowing if he stalled too long, he'd pass out. He already felt his body slowing, his mind spotting. He gritted the word out between his bloodied teeth. "Please."
"You got it!" He kneels beside the man, pulling out the kit he didn't even bother to zip up last night.
"You want the full spa treatment or just a stitch up?" He already knew the answer but if he's going to he betraying the mayor, might as well have fun with it. He finds the way past the suit, despite it being skin tight and begins stitching the wound.
Dex held back an irritated sigh as Buck knelt down beside him. He craned his head back and looked around the apartment, cataloging all the furniture and decor into his mind. He gave a hum as a response at first, distracted by the toys on the floor. Right. He had a kid.
"Jus' a stitch up," Dex answered properly.
Dex held his compression shirt up, watching Buck clean the wound. His face stayed relaxed, almost emotionless in the contrasting lighting of the lamplight. He breathed in, attempting casual conversation.
"How's your kid?"
"He should be sleeping. But you know toddlers." He continues to help the 'villain' until he's not gushing out.
— 𝗔 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗣 .
[ open rp ! ]
!! TW: Gun injury, slight description of death
The entire apartment is filled with small learning toys and bluey merchandise scattered in no attempt to look pretty. Agent buck...sometimes called Agent bullet was trying to get his fussy toddler to sleep. Lance was having none of that. He insisted on playing with his toys or having a book read to him, but Buck has had a full day of killing people for the mayor. His son knew as much as the public if not less. "My Daddy works for the mayor!" Lance would brag to his friends at kindergarten. Buck at the sound of footsteps shoves a toy into his son's lap "You can play with those as long as you want." He practically tip toes out to the other room, hand on his hidden gun until the door is shut and locked from the outside. He holds the gun at the figure.
He couldn't figure out who the man was. Buck assumed Fisk finally figured out what he was doing with the vigilantes and decided to end the stream of information.
Dex hacked up blood and wheezed out a breath, his eyes trained onto the gun held up at him. 'Fuckin-A,' he thought. He figured he'd have to kill this guy if he tried anything. When he realized it was none other than Buck, Dex took a step closer, his boots dragging against the hardwood as he approached him. He removed his mask with some trouble, then held his hands up, his stomach flexing as blood continued to seep out of his bullet wound.
Dex coughed out the man's name, a desperate lilt at the end. "Buck."
Dex's knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor, shuddering at the loss of blood. Dex felt like a dead man. This wasn't supposed to happen. He cursed under his breath and pushed himself up against the wall closest to him.
"Dex? Why the fucking hell are you in my house??" He puts his gun away and turns on the lamp with a press of his foot. Buck kicks away the toys and shuts the widow, blinds, then blackout curtains before checking the lock on his sons bedroom. Buck takes himself to Ben "Do you need help, bullseye?"
"Oh I don't know," he sarcastically replied, coughing again. "Jus' decided I'd take a stroll through the neighborhood."
Dex watched Buck as he blocked the city out of his apartment. He was hiding this. Anyone would. Dex thought it amusing that Fisk's right-hand man hadn't killed him by now. Of course, he'd heard of the rumors — about Buck being secretly disloyal to Fisk. He smirked despite the throbbing pain in his side, feeling arrogant. The feeling quickly subsided, however, and he silently nodded at Buck's question.
"Yes. Now."
"Say please at least." He teases. Fortunately lance had an accident yesterday and Buck didn't have time to put everything away because he's been putting in extra hours.
He grabs the pack from the bathroom counter before approaching again, still waiting for the word. "My toddler can say it, so can you."
Dex blinked, guffawed by Buck's request. He tilted his head, his palm pressing harder against his bullet wound. He was stubborn. He straightened out instead and eyed the pack in Buck's hand like a predator wanting to strike.
"Fucking—" Dex cut himself off, frustrated. He glared at Buck and relented, knowing if he stalled too long, he'd pass out. He already felt his body slowing, his mind spotting. He gritted the word out between his bloodied teeth. "Please."
"You got it!" He kneels beside the man, pulling out the kit he didn't even bother to zip up last night.
"You want the full spa treatment or just a stitch up?" He already knew the answer but if he's going to he betraying the mayor, might as well have fun with it. He finds the way past the suit, despite it being skin tight and begins stitching the wound.
— 𝗔 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗣 .
[ open rp ! ]
!! TW: Gun injury, slight description of death
The entire apartment is filled with small learning toys and bluey merchandise scattered in no attempt to look pretty. Agent buck...sometimes called Agent bullet was trying to get his fussy toddler to sleep. Lance was having none of that. He insisted on playing with his toys or having a book read to him, but Buck has had a full day of killing people for the mayor. His son knew as much as the public if not less. "My Daddy works for the mayor!" Lance would brag to his friends at kindergarten. Buck at the sound of footsteps shoves a toy into his son's lap "You can play with those as long as you want." He practically tip toes out to the other room, hand on his hidden gun until the door is shut and locked from the outside. He holds the gun at the figure.
He couldn't figure out who the man was. Buck assumed Fisk finally figured out what he was doing with the vigilantes and decided to end the stream of information.
Dex hacked up blood and wheezed out a breath, his eyes trained onto the gun held up at him. 'Fuckin-A,' he thought. He figured he'd have to kill this guy if he tried anything. When he realized it was none other than Buck, Dex took a step closer, his boots dragging against the hardwood as he approached him. He removed his mask with some trouble, then held his hands up, his stomach flexing as blood continued to seep out of his bullet wound.
Dex coughed out the man's name, a desperate lilt at the end. "Buck."
Dex's knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor, shuddering at the loss of blood. Dex felt like a dead man. This wasn't supposed to happen. He cursed under his breath and pushed himself up against the wall closest to him.
"Dex? Why the fucking hell are you in my house??" He puts his gun away and turns on the lamp with a press of his foot. Buck kicks away the toys and shuts the widow, blinds, then blackout curtains before checking the lock on his sons bedroom. Buck takes himself to Ben "Do you need help, bullseye?"
"Oh I don't know," he sarcastically replied, coughing again. "Jus' decided I'd take a stroll through the neighborhood."
Dex watched Buck as he blocked the city out of his apartment. He was hiding this. Anyone would. Dex thought it amusing that Fisk's right-hand man hadn't killed him by now. Of course, he'd heard of the rumors — about Buck being secretly disloyal to Fisk. He smirked despite the throbbing pain in his side, feeling arrogant. The feeling quickly subsided, however, and he silently nodded at Buck's question.
"Yes. Now."
"Say please at least." He teases. Fortunately lance had an accident yesterday and Buck didn't have time to put everything away because he's been putting in extra hours.
He grabs the pack from the bathroom counter before approaching again, still waiting for the word. "My toddler can say it, so can you."
— 𝗔 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗣 .
[ open rp ! ]
!! TW: Gun injury, slight description of death
The entire apartment is filled with small learning toys and bluey merchandise scattered in no attempt to look pretty. Agent buck...sometimes called Agent bullet was trying to get his fussy toddler to sleep. Lance was having none of that. He insisted on playing with his toys or having a book read to him, but Buck has had a full day of killing people for the mayor. His son knew as much as the public if not less. "My Daddy works for the mayor!" Lance would brag to his friends at kindergarten. Buck at the sound of footsteps shoves a toy into his son's lap "You can play with those as long as you want." He practically tip toes out to the other room, hand on his hidden gun until the door is shut and locked from the outside. He holds the gun at the figure.
He couldn't figure out who the man was. Buck assumed Fisk finally figured out what he was doing with the vigilantes and decided to end the stream of information.
Dex hacked up blood and wheezed out a breath, his eyes trained onto the gun held up at him. 'Fuckin-A,' he thought. He figured he'd have to kill this guy if he tried anything. When he realized it was none other than Buck, Dex took a step closer, his boots dragging against the hardwood as he approached him. He removed his mask with some trouble, then held his hands up, his stomach flexing as blood continued to seep out of his bullet wound.
Dex coughed out the man's name, a desperate lilt at the end. "Buck."
Dex's knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor, shuddering at the loss of blood. Dex felt like a dead man. This wasn't supposed to happen. He cursed under his breath and pushed himself up against the wall closest to him.
"Dex? Why the fucking hell are you in my house??" He puts his gun away and turns on the lamp with a press of his foot. Buck kicks away the toys and shuts the widow, blinds, then blackout curtains before checking the lock on his sons bedroom. Buck takes himself to Ben "Do you need help, bullseye?"
— 𝗔 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗣 .
[ open rp ! ]
!! TW: Gun injury, slight description of death
The entire apartment is filled with small learning toys and bluey merchandise scattered in no attempt to look pretty. Agent buck...sometimes called Agent bullet was trying to get his fussy toddler to sleep. Lance was having none of that. He insisted on playing with his toys or having a book read to him, but Buck has had a full day of killing people for the mayor. His son knew as much as the public if not less. "My Daddy works for the mayor!" Lance would brag to his friends at kindergarten. Buck at the sound of footsteps shoves a toy into his son's lap "You can play with those as long as you want." He practically tip toes out to the other room, hand on his hidden gun until the door is shut and locked from the outside. He holds the gun at the figure.
He couldn't figure out who the man was. Buck assumed Fisk finally figured out what he was doing with the vigilantes and decided to end the stream of information.
“Meow?”
@the-alpine-barnes
What? Wheres your owner?
Alpine blinks up at him. “Mrrr?”
Do you want pets?
He crouches down to scratch behind Alpine's ears
"ya for a name?"
“My name’s Alpine!” She says happily, nuzzling against his hand.
"You can talk?"
“Umm—“ her eyes widen. “Meow?”
"Don't worry. I wont tell anyone. We all have our secrets"
Alpine sighs. “It’s not really a well kept secret… Dad just doesn’t like that I tell people…”
"Whos your dad? He continues scratching the animal
“Bucky Barnes!”
"The bloody winter soldier?"
“Yep!!” Alpine seems really proud of this.
"Is he a good dad?"
“Uh huh! He’s awesome!”
"Good. I heard he's been doing better."
“Yeah, he is! He says I help a lot…”
"I bet you do."
“Mhm… have you met him?”
"I have not had the pleasure of meeting him yet. Do you think we'd get along?"
“I don’t know… he doesn’t really like people much…”
"And why is that?"
When will you tell the media?
@agentbuck-bullet
I don't plan on telling the media anytime soon. It's too dangerous, Buck.
How will the public trust you
They won't, thanks to Fisk. But the public doesn't need to know about that life either. New York knows nothing about my identity except for the people who do.
Why, is Fisk thinking about outing me?
He has his options. However this is of my own curiosity. I would never say anything bout your identity however I do have questions
When will you tell the media?
@agentbuck-bullet
I don't plan on telling the media anytime soon. It's too dangerous, Buck.
How will the public trust you
“Meow?”
@the-alpine-barnes
What? Wheres your owner?
Alpine blinks up at him. “Mrrr?”
Do you want pets?
He crouches down to scratch behind Alpine's ears
"ya for a name?"
“My name’s Alpine!” She says happily, nuzzling against his hand.
"You can talk?"
“Umm—“ her eyes widen. “Meow?”
"Don't worry. I wont tell anyone. We all have our secrets"
Alpine sighs. “It’s not really a well kept secret… Dad just doesn’t like that I tell people…”
"Whos your dad? He continues scratching the animal
“Bucky Barnes!”
"The bloody winter soldier?"
“Yep!!” Alpine seems really proud of this.
"Is he a good dad?"
“Uh huh! He’s awesome!”
"Good. I heard he's been doing better."
“Yeah, he is! He says I help a lot…”
"I bet you do."
“Mhm… have you met him?”
"I have not had the pleasure of meeting him yet. Do you think we'd get along?"
“Meow?”
@the-alpine-barnes
What? Wheres your owner?
Alpine blinks up at him. “Mrrr?”
Do you want pets?
He crouches down to scratch behind Alpine's ears
"ya for a name?"
“My name’s Alpine!” She says happily, nuzzling against his hand.
"You can talk?"
“Umm—“ her eyes widen. “Meow?”
"Don't worry. I wont tell anyone. We all have our secrets"
Alpine sighs. “It’s not really a well kept secret… Dad just doesn’t like that I tell people…”
"Whos your dad? He continues scratching the animal
“Bucky Barnes!”
"The bloody winter soldier?"
“Yep!!” Alpine seems really proud of this.
"Is he a good dad?"
“Uh huh! He’s awesome!”
"Good. I heard he's been doing better."
“Yeah, he is! He says I help a lot…”
"I bet you do."
“Meow?”
@the-alpine-barnes
What? Wheres your owner?
Alpine blinks up at him. “Mrrr?”
Do you want pets?
He crouches down to scratch behind Alpine's ears
"ya for a name?"
“My name’s Alpine!” She says happily, nuzzling against his hand.
"You can talk?"
“Umm—“ her eyes widen. “Meow?”
"Don't worry. I wont tell anyone. We all have our secrets"
Alpine sighs. “It’s not really a well kept secret… Dad just doesn’t like that I tell people…”
"Whos your dad? He continues scratching the animal
“Bucky Barnes!”
"The bloody winter soldier?"
“Yep!!” Alpine seems really proud of this.
"Is he a good dad?"
“Uh huh! He’s awesome!”
"Good. I heard he's been doing better."
“Meow?”
@the-alpine-barnes
What? Wheres your owner?
Alpine blinks up at him. “Mrrr?”
Do you want pets?
He crouches down to scratch behind Alpine's ears
"ya for a name?"
“My name’s Alpine!” She says happily, nuzzling against his hand.
"You can talk?"
“Umm—“ her eyes widen. “Meow?”
"Don't worry. I wont tell anyone. We all have our secrets"
Alpine sighs. “It’s not really a well kept secret… Dad just doesn’t like that I tell people…”
"Whos your dad? He continues scratching the animal
“Bucky Barnes!”
"The bloody winter soldier?"
“Yep!!” Alpine seems really proud of this.
"Is he a good dad?"
“Meow?”
@the-alpine-barnes
What? Wheres your owner?
Alpine blinks up at him. “Mrrr?”
Do you want pets?
He crouches down to scratch behind Alpine's ears
"ya for a name?"
“My name’s Alpine!” She says happily, nuzzling against his hand.
"You can talk?"
“Umm—“ her eyes widen. “Meow?”
"Don't worry. I wont tell anyone. We all have our secrets"
Alpine sighs. “It’s not really a well kept secret… Dad just doesn’t like that I tell people…”
"Whos your dad? He continues scratching the animal
“Bucky Barnes!”
"The bloody winter soldier?"