#also now that I am thinking about it Hen also had a pretty rough time (tho part of that was actually self-made) so maybe things just go
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I wonder if with the whole chimney and the potential of being captain and the leadership skills thing, they are gonna touch on the fact that potentially part of chimney being so hesitant about it (and judging himself too harshly) is because the one time he got to be Captain and take on that much responsibility, Eddie’s wife died AND a firetruck exploded and almost killed his pseudo-little-brother Buck and not even offering himself up was enough to safe Buck, and I’m pretty sure he felt super helpless each time and we actually do know that he was really harsh on himself especially over Shannon’s death (and also from the time Maddie wanted to do the homebirth we know he has anxiety over being helpless/feeling like he wasn’t enough to help/safe someone)! so! I wanna see that maybe brought up, I would really really love that <3
#9-1-1#911 season 6 speculation#911 spoilers#chimney han#LISTEN#he was not captain for very long but BOY did they throw a lot at him in that short time#OF COURSE that would give someone issues#also now that I am thinking about it Hen also had a pretty rough time (tho part of that was actually self-made) so maybe things just go#wrong when bobby isn't captain xD#tho then they DO also go wrong when bobby IS captain xDDDDD#anyways <3#I am begging for them to actually touch on this
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I started thinking about Buck texting Bobby every time he woke up, and my hand slipped.
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Bobby is just beginning to prep breakfast at the station when his phone pings.
7:26am
hey everything ok
It doesn't click right away—Bobby’s first assumption being that Buck is missing the job, maybe feeling a little left out.
7:27am
Yeah, everything’s fine here. Shift just started, you’re not missing much. Are you ok?
He watches as the three dots pop up and then disappear a couple times, and then puts his phone down to stir the eggs. He’s almost forgotten about it by the time the response comes in.
7:34am
just checking
It’s then that the penny drops, and the realization breaks Bobby’s heart a little. He opens his camera and flips it around, taking a surreptitious selfie with A shift seated at the table in the background. Chim is gesturing animatedly, and Eddie is chuckling into a coffee mug while Hen rolls her eyes. In the foreground is half of Bobby’s own face, forgetting to smile as he concentrates on framing the shot.
He sends the picture off to Buck.
7:36am
We’re all here, all safe. We miss you.
thanks bobby. miss you guys too
The next one comes in the following morning, just as Bobby is pulling into his driveway.
7:31am
hey
Hey, kid. All good here.
ok, great
sorry
thanks
No need, Buck.
Bobby knows there’s something Buck isn’t telling him about the coma dream and his place in it. When Bobby had asked him about it at the hospital, he’d been cagey, and since Buck got home, Bobby feels like he’s being tracked—like if Buck doesn’t know where Bobby is at any given moment, Bobby might vanish into thin air… or Buck might.
Bobby can be an anchor. He’s had practice.
2:12pm
all good?
All good.
They fall into a routine, where Buck will text “hey” whenever he wakes up and Bobby will reply with a checkmark emoji. It’s soothing for Bobby, too—this way, he knows Buck is sleeping, and gets a rough idea of when and how much. There’s always a text in the morning, and more often than not, a message also comes through in the afternoon.
A couple days in, the afternoon text arrives while the 118 is on a call. Nothing serious, but several cars are involved, and Bobby is flitting around the scene, directing his people back and forth to where they’re needed. By the time he wraps up, Eddie is sitting half inside the truck and holding his phone, a concerned look on his face.
“Cap?”
Bobby pulls his own phone out of his turnouts.
3:42pm
hey
3:48pm
hey, bobby?
3:52pm
i know it’s fine
and i know you’re probably on a call
but lmk if you’re ok when you can
3:54pm
please
sorry
Bobby takes a quick selfie with Eddie. Neither of them is smiling, but it’s not annoyance—it’s the same way they’d be looking at Buck if he were here, handling the call with them. No performing, just an ordinary moment in time.
He sends it over.
4:09pm
Sorry to make you wait. We’re good.
He looks up from his phone, and Eddie is watching him with pinched eyebrows. Wordlessly, he flips his phone around to show Bobby his own string of texts from Buck. Bobby sees his own name in the thread several times.
“How’s he doing?” Bobby asks.
Eddie blows out a breath and settles his elbows on his knees. “He’s… working through some stuff,” Eddie says, looking back at the text thread. He’s silent for a long moment, and then huffs a rueful laugh. “He seems rattled, which is pretty understandable. But beyond that, I don’t think he knows what he needs yet.”
“Well, until he tells us differently, the best thing we can do for him is to be here, and be us.”
Eddie nods, and they both swing into the engine.
That night, the ping of Bobby’s phone wakes him from a deep sleep in the station house bunks.
2:20am
hey you awake
Bobby rubs a hand across his face.
I am now. You ok?
sorry i woke you
No, don’t be. I’d rather you reach out.
Buck doesn’t respond; the three dots don’t even appear.
2:22am
Did something happen? You alright?
2:24am
just a nightmare
You want to tell me about it?
nah
maybe later
glad you’re ok, get some sleep
Bobby locks his phone and stares at the ceiling in the dark. He isn’t sure how much time passes, but at some point he resigns himself to the fact that his swirling worries won’t resolve themselves into anything legible right now. He swings his legs out of bed and heads upstairs to the kitchen.
Five hours later, he pulls into a parking spot outside of Buck’s apartment complex, a pan of cinnamon rolls in the passenger seat.
“Hey, Bobby.” Buck looks tired when he swings open the door, circles under his eyes, smile a little faded.
“Hey, kid. Brought you something.” Bobby peels back a corner of the foil covering the cinnamon rolls, and watches as Buck’s eyes brighten.
He laughs and gestures to the piles of food on the kitchen island. “I don’t know if I’ve even got space for those, but I’ll move some of this out to the balcony if I have to.”
Bobby hands the pan over, and Buck lifts out a roll immediately, taking a huge bite that leaves icing on his lip. “Mmmmh. God. Thank you.”
He can’t help a smile at Buck’s enthusiasm. “Anytime.”
There’s a moment of quiet while Buck wedges the pan onto the overloaded island and finishes his roll. He’s licking his fingers and avoiding Bobby’s eyes when he says, “Sorry again for waking you up.”
“Buck.” Bobby waits for him to look up. “Don’t be. We’re all here for you—and not just because you got hurt. We’re here whenever you need us.”
Buck pauses, index finger still in his mouth. He pulls it out and says in a rush, as if racing his own hesitation: “You were dead. In my coma dream, you were dead. Because Hen and I never came to your apartment that day.”
“Okay,” Bobby says, nodding neutrally as the memories wash over him. The shame of waking in the shower. The helplessness of placing his pain in his coworkers’ hands. The rock-steady warmth of Buck and Hen on either side of him.
A vise tightens around his heart.
“Is that why you’ve been checking on me?”
Buck has the gall to sound ashamed of himself when he says, “Yeah.”
“Buck, you know—hey. Look at me, this is important.” Buck, who has shifted his gaze to someplace over Bobby’s right shoulder, drags his eyes back. “You know that my sobriety isn’t your responsibility, right?”
Buck nods. “I know, and I’m not trying to… fix things, or control things I can’t. I just…” He trails off, and his eyes are shining. “I don’t want to wake up again in a world that doesn’t have you in it. This version of you, I mean.”
“Oh, kid, c’mere.” Bobby steps forward and wraps Buck in a hug.
God damn anyone who ever told this kid that his heart was a problem.
When they finally let go of each other, Bobby holds on to Buck’s shoulders. Buck sniffs, and swats a tear off his cheek with the palm of his hand.
“You’ve been through a lot, and I know you’re still sorting it out. But I also know how stubborn you are when you’re chewing on a problem,” Bobby says, drawing a wet laugh out of Buck. “I know you’ll find your way through it. And we will all be here for you. Every step, however long it takes.”
Buck nods, and breaks into a hesitant smile.
“And in the meantime, let us spoil you a little.” Bobby gives Buck’s shoulder a light jab with his fist. “We don’t want to wake up in a world without you, either.”
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Costume meta 6x14
Its like one extreme to the other with costumes from week to week on this show!! Last week I had so many to talk about and somehow managed to sneak 42 pictures into my meta. This week however, everyone was mostly hanging out in uniform so I have far fewer costume to talk about (but probably just as many words to say knowing me!!!)
So theres no Buck or Bobby this week as we don’t see either of them out of uniform, but I am going to talk about some background characters because they’re relevant in relation to costumes being worn by out mains!
As always the reest is under the cut to save your dash!
The Buckley-Han’s
Starting with Jee in her light teal top with a rainbow on. Like i’ve said a million times before the imagery they use on the kids clothing is very intentional and always says something about the scene/arc. The rainbow on Jee’s top is telling us that the Buckley-Han’s are in harmony (and not just with the singing) - that rainbows come after the rain - its signalling they are in a good place and are connected. they are a sign of new beginnings and hope. But it also takes both rain and sun to make a rainbow, so its a reminder that the rough times are a part ofwhat got them to the good times they’re now in.
Maddie is wearing a black top
and so is Chimney.
I’m pretty sure this is the first time we’ve seen them wearing the same colour at the same time. its showing us they’re in balance - that they are strong (black is a colour of strength), it is also a colour of security and protection - after last week, we see that they (and Jee by virtue of being in-between them) are feeling secure and protected in their family. I do also think there is a bit of foreshadowing going on here as well - for Death and taxes - Black can be a colour of mourning and I think that we might be about to mourn the loss of this innocent time. How that plays out remains to be seen, but this moment captures the moment before things change for Madney.
The Wilsons & Athena
Here we have Hen in an acid yellow top with orange and blue sections that also have some purple in them. Blue and orange are complementary colours, as are yellow and purple. complementary colours create the strongest contrast - making each other appear more intense, but they also cancel each other out if mixed together - creating black or white. This gives us a hint of where Hen is mentally - especially in relation to Nathaniel. They sit at opposite sides of the parenting spectrum - established and legal and unestablished and technically with no legal rights. the fact that we have hen in a black tee underneath and later see Denny in black establishes the idea of the complementary colours mixing together and creating black - it is suggesting that the issues will be ironed out and that Denny will remain at the centre of any decisions Hen (and Karen) make. Its just an indicatior of good parenting by them and I love that
Athena in red - the colour of passion and intensity. interestingly she also sits in the colour wheel with Hen - just without the opposition of a complementary colour. So Hen is the yellow and blue aspects of the colour wheel while Athena is red - thats all three primary colours in one scene and with the green behind her in the glass (red’s complementary colour) making all three of the secondary colours present as well. This is all about creating harmony - that goes for Hen and her family as well as Athena and hers.
Denny in black...
with Hen in this blue and green shirt.
remind you of another parent child combination at all????
yeah - they are gong hard with the parallels - very very hard. The choices here place Hen in a similar situation to Chris and Denny in the same place as Eddie and the two scenes have similar over arching themes. Themes of children seeking some independence from parents, but also the establishment of new boundaries and it is about the loss and reforming of trust. We see Chris continuing to keep doing the sneaky things he’s been doing - making it clear that he want’s to do things his way and that (to a certain extent) Eddie is going to have to be the one to fall into line here - That it was Eddie who was being too rigid in his behaviour/ way of parenting Chris. Hen is similar to Chris - in that she is going to do things her way when it comes to Nathaniel - she isn’t going to pander to him and she is going ensure that both Nathaniel and Denny fall into line. This is about her setting a clear boundary - especially in light of Nathaniels behaviour (as the adult who should’ve known better) with both of them.
We see Eddie come round to Christophers way of thinking - understanding that Chris wasn’t acting out of character because he’s going to become a troublesome kid/teen, but it was out of a genuine desire to want to start to have some independence. Denny is in a similar situation - realising that his expectations are un reasonable - that Hens (and Karens) boundaries are reasonable (like Chris’s were with Eddie) and therefore he will have to adjust to them.
The Diaz’s (and co!)
Okay so I don’t normally comment on the decor in the houses in costume metas, but I actually think the choices made in the decoration of Tia Pepa’s house was very important and intentional so we’re gonna have a little look at it.
There is just so so much blue going on! In a season where the blue and green theming has been very noticeable and especially in connection with Eddie and Buck. To choose to have so much blue present in a scene with Eddie wearing green - when Eddie is being set up - is very literally meant to ensure we’re subconsciously making connections with Buck - the choice to have him in so much blue, especially paler blues this season has always been deliberate and now we’re seeing pay off for it beyond just what the blue can tell us as a colour - its so loud I’ve gone deaf!!
Tia Pepa’s family portrait on the wall - looming behind her right shoulder is also very loud - its presence - the presence of extended family, it as important as Pepa and Eddie in this scene. Pictures/ portraits etc are not something i tend to focus on, but all burgundy and black of their outfits is telling a very loud story - especially in combination with Eddies and Pepa’s later outfits. Its also worth pointing out the olive tree in the background - the symbol of peace and friendship! The family in burgundy is sowing us unity - Eddies later date outfit being the same colour way also envelops him in the family fold.
Pepa’s own outfit, includes burgundy, but also the yellow of communication and the calmness of beige. its about establishing her as both the voice of reason and the communicator of important information!
Sorry Eddies face in the above pic gets me every time I see it 😂
Eddie himself is wearing his trademark black and army green. his wearing it here is a symbol of his being ambushed and signifies him feeling at war - with himself and with his family wants. We’ve actually been seeing Eddie in less khaki green this season than previously, so its use now is more impactful - Eddie has been feeling less and less at war - with himself, with life etc. Now we’re seeing the use of this green in moments that appear to be playing a part in his moments of panic or repression. The brighter more sagey green from last episode is a clear contrast to this - more yellowy its a warmer colour while this one is more aggressive. I wrote in more detail about Eddies khaki jackets here 6x04
Vanessa’s introduction is a pretty loud and telling one - it combines nicely with all the blue in Pepa’s home and only serves to remind us of a certain firefighter who is wearing A LOT of blue this season. In an episode where we don’t see Buck out of uniform this choice is even louder - it puts Vanessa directly into the shoes of Buck - so that the green and blue theme continues its presence and continues as a connection between them specifically - I talk about it later on, but there are some very intentional thngs being done with costumes as a way of connecting Buck to Eddiee - 6a was about establishing a theme and 6b is about using that establishment to further the agenda. we are very much meant to recognise the link to Buck and therefore recognise his absence - in the same way Eddie was absent from the coma dream - they are very much playing on the absence of things being louder than their presence and the presence of other things in the same colour being a reminder of that absence.
Vanessas not date night outfit is super interesting now I’ve managed to get a good look at it! The bouquet of flowers on the front of the dress (not her impressive cleavage but feel free to look if you want 😂) has me feeling a lot of feelings about the insanity of the costume department and the lengths they go to to tell a story! So the bouquet is made up of wild flowers and grasses. They are cow parsley, poppies, daisies and the grass itself.
Grass in bouquets is symbolic of growth, health and abundance, the fact we have grass heads - with seeds on is also relevant - its about germination and new beginnings.
Daisies are a symbol of new beginnings and innocence (but even that connection with innocence stems from death - Celtic legend has it that when a child died, God would sprinkle daisies over the grave as a way of bringing comfort to the family. Medicinally they are used in the soothing of coughs, colds and breathing difficulties.
Poppies are very heavily associated with sleep and death - it is why they have become a symbol of armistice and peace after war. All of this is relevant to Eddie as a character - a man who has fought a war in the literal sense, but also one who has been fighting a war internally - repression is an active form of fighting agains ones self - against ones truth - it is also connected to sleep - repressing something is suggestive of it lying dormant or asleep - waiting to be woken up. this types in with the Hollywood meaning of the poppy - forever connected with the wizard of Oz - a story very literally about a coma dream (and one the show has referenced before with the lady in the earthquake hotel - with her red shoes and paisley the dog!
The cow parsley is very interesting - there are two meanings at play with it - firstly cow parsley is said to represent sanctuary and refuge - due to the fact it was commonly grown in monastery herb gardens - and its use was for the treatment of breathing difficulties (panic attack reference anyone?!!). then there is the greek myth connection, it is associated with Archemorus - the herald of death - the translation literally means the beginning of doom and that feels like a sign regarding Eddies future relationships with women. At this point Vanessa is the manifestation of Eddie dating women - past, present and possibly future is going and the dress is just helping the story along. Eddie is growing and learning and figuring out that women are not his future - that path only leads to doom!
Eddies not date outfit is doing some heavy lifting - it’s emphasising the tie into family - linking his tias family with his own, Eddie being dressed in the same colour ways as the family portrait tells us that he is here on this ‘date’ as a ‘duty’ to family, he’s not here from his own free will. Of course there is also the connection to Buck from last episode - at the poker game. I’m truly fascinated by this choice because there is the obvious parallel of Buck thinking he was on a date only to find out that he wasn’t in the same way that Eddie here thinks he’s on a date (even if he intends to let her down) only to find that he isn’t isn’t. But there is also another interesting theme at play here, I’ve already said how Eddies suit matching Pepa and her family’s portrait outfits is symbolic of family ties, well that theme therefore also applies to Buck - that he is family, because if it only referred to one of the two themes then it would’ve been easy to make use of a different colour for one o the themes so that only the one connection was made - if it was only about dates not being dates then you change the colour choices for Pepa and her family, or if its about family then you change the colour of Bucks suit. What this does is strengthen the idea that Buck is family, but not just to Eddie (and Chris), but also to Tia Pepa and her family, its perhaps a hint at the familial connection going deeper that we’ve been presented in canon thus far.
Tia Pepa’s last outfit only further strengthens the arguement about both metaphors/themes being at play. the entire conversation centres around her previous failed relationship and getting back out there, we get a link to work colleagues as well. but Tia Pepa is happily married to her second husband Tio Paco - who is dressed in the same colour way in the portrait - making the suggestion that the answer for Eddie is in someone we’ve seen wearing the same colour way as him *cough* Buck *cough*
Ok last costume - Eddies dark grey denim shirt. So Eddie wears denim shirts at key moments with family - 2x04 visiting Abuela in hospital, 2x07 when he reconnects with Shannon so he can get Chris into Durrand, 3x03 dropping Chris off with Buck post tsunami, 3x15 in flashback when he decided to move to LA with Chris, 4x08 when he introduces Ana to Chris as his girlfriend 6x11 when they visit Buck in hospital and now this one. This one is a bit different to all of his other ones though as its not a western style shirt, but that in and of itself tells its own story. All the shirts are connected to family - but that comes with the proviso of it being about whichever member of family is also involved in the scene and not for Eddie himself- usually Christopher! So Eddie reconnecting with Shannon is about Chris, introducing Ana (and the conversation with Carla about following his heart not Christophers) - about Chris, dropping Chris of at Bucks post tsunami - about Chris and Buck (its bringing him into the fold of family) etc etc. This new shirt - the non western one, is Eddie recognising and accepting something for himself - this is not about Chris or any other member of his family, this is solely about Eddie himself and that ties in very nicely with the journey we’ve seen Eddie on since his breakdown in 5b. For me it is a marker of Eddie actually starting to focus on his own feelings rather than Christopher (or anyone else’s).
Thank you as always for reading - it really does mean the world to me that you're interested in the costuming of our wee woo show and I love reading your thoughts in the tags and notes!!! I’ll shut up now and let you have your lives back.
As always, tag list below! Until the next episode! 💜💜💜
@mistmarauder @theladyyavilee @loveyourownsmiilee @leothil @girldadbuddie @kitkatpancakestack @buckscurls @lemotmo @trashendence @elishareads @clipboardsandstethoscopes @comfortbuddie @fiona-fififi @callanee @calyssmarviss @pbandjeremiah @batgrldes @spotsandsocks @livingwherethesidewalkends @idontshitpostbuttheolympicpark @diazboysbuckley @sweettsubaki @shortsighted-owl @sherlocking-out-loud @dickley-buddie @favouritealias @hearteyesdiaz @ktinastrikesback @princesschez75 @bucksbuddie @oneawkwardcookie @leatherati @moniquekatie @wanderingwomanwondering @trickster-archangel @outrunningthedark @asharadaine @ajunerose @talespinner230 @pop-kam @swiftiebuckleys @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @butchjerry @mandzuking17 @yelenascowboys @copyninjabuckley @name-code-black-widow @rogerzsteven @bi-moonlight @usercowboy @inthecarwithaboy @inandoutoffocus-blog @toboldlynerd
#kym costume meta#911 costume meta#costume meta#colour theory#911 colour theory#kym talks costumes#911 costumes#911 on fox#911 fox#eddie diaz#athena grant#hen wilson#denny wilson#911 season 6#6x14
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Buck & Eddie: Eddie’s Heart-Reference #15
Is it possible the CANON references to Eddie’s heart started before season 4? Heart Reference #15
There were many references to Eddie’s heart included at the end of season 4 and they continued throughout season 5. But what if the references began during season 2 and continued through season 5? Let’s review the fifteenth reference to Eddie’s heart which includes his fear of being afraid which is called Phobophobia. It’s the cause of his pounding heart and all the things that he’s been afraid of, including himself, which led to his mental breakdown.
5x13 “Fear-O-Phobia”
Eddie went back to therapy with Frank after Bobby told him to in 5x11 “Outside Looking In” during their conversation regarding Eddie’s attempt to transfer back to the 118. During his first session, Frank asked him, “What are you afraid of?” Eddie tried to deflect but said, “That’s a pretty open-ended question don’t you think? I mean I don’t love going to the dentist”. Frank replied that him being afraid of the dentist didn’t make him yell at Bobby and Eddie explained how he had already apologized to Bobby for that and how he had been upset when it happened. Then Frank asked him why he yelled at Bobby and Eddie wouldn’t answer him. Frank then asked him how Christopher was doing and Eddie opened right up. He said, “Good. Good. He had a rough patch over the holidays but he’s doing good now”. Then Frank explained how he knows that Eddie worries about Christopher and Eddie asked him if that was a problem. Frank said, “Not at all. I just wonder if you worry about your own well-being. You’re a man who spends all his time managing other people’s pain. Army medic, firefighter, father but not a lot of time facing your own". Eddie explained how an old drill sergeant told him that “Pain is nothing but weakness leaving the body” and Frank said, “You think pain is weakness?” and Eddie said, “It can be, if you give in to it”. That’s when Frank told him that he couldn’t keep putting all his feelings into a box because the box will blow open once it became full. Eddie sarcastically replied, “And take me with it” and Frank said, “You and anyone else around you”. Eddie then asked what he should do about it and Frank told him to talk about his pain with people who experienced it with him. Frank then explained how he should talk about his first trauma with someone who can understand what he’s been through.
A woman who couldn’t feel fear was almost attacked by a robber at the gas station but she sprayed the robber with gasoline and apologized to the gas station attendant before she left. Athena responded to the 9-1-1 call at the gas station and she talked to Ruth who then showed her the surveillance footage. Athena went to investigate at Pauline’s house where her sister also lives. Her sister told Athena that Pauline hadn’t been herself lately. Pauline went to the top of the recycling plant to commit suicide and the 118 was dispatched to the scene. Her suicide attempt was all over the news and Eddie was watching from the dispatch center. He turned on his radio to listen to Pauline and Josh’s conversation. Pauline said, “I can’t function like this. Nothing means anything anymore. I feel like I am coming out of my skin literally”. Hen realized that Pauline could be suffering from a disease that affects the brain after she talked with Athena, learned more about her symptoms and after she looked at Pauline through a pair of binoculars. She told Cap she had an idea then Josh patched Hen through so that she could talk to Pauline. Eddie was still listening when Pauline said, “I feel empty. If I operate out of fear and it goes away, how am I supposed to operate?” Hen explained how she believed Pauline had a disease which was affecting her ability to be afraid. Pauline explained how she was broken but how she might feel something on the way down after she jumped. Buck and Ravi saved her from jumping and Eddie was still listening during the rescue.
Eddie called some of the people he served with in the Army so that he could complete his therapy assignment but that’s when he learned everyone, he served with had died. He became so enraged that he smashed all his bedroom furniture with a baseball bat and punched holes in the walls with his fists. Christopher was in his bedroom playing video games but he heard the noise so he stopped playing to go see what was happening. He knocked on Eddie’s door and tried to open it but it was locked. Christopher called Buck to tell him something was wrong and Buck rushed over. After he arrived, he entered Eddie’s house, walked down the hall and asked Chris if he was ok. Christopher said, “He won’t come out. I keep calling him but he won’t answer.” Buck said, “Uh. Ok, well you just wait here”. Buck knocked on Eddie’s bedroom door and said, “Eddie. It’s me” but Eddie didn’t respond. Buck explained that he was going to come in and then he broke down Eddie’s bedroom door but when he entered all he saw was destruction. He called for Eddie twice and then Eddie starting crying. Buck rushed over to ask him what was going on and Eddie said, “They’re all dead!” and Buck asked, “Who’s all dead?” Then Eddie said, “Everybody that I saved. They’re all dead” and he kept repeating they’re all dead. After Buck put Christopher to bed, Eddie was in the dining room waiting for him. Eddie asked him if Christopher was ok and Buck said that he was scared out of his mind and that he was too. Eddie said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare him. I just kind of lost it”. Buck asked him why and Eddie explained the therapy assignment Frank had given him. He continued by explaining how everyone he served with died after they came back to the United States; one person overdosed, another one died in a car crash and how Mills shot herself last August. He told Buck that even though he got them all out of the helicopter, he didn’t save them. He then said he was afraid and Buck asked, “What are you afraid of?” and Eddie replied, “That I’m never gonna feel normal again”.
Parallels
Therapy
During Eddie’s first therapy session in 3x9 “Fallout”, he really didn’t want to be there so he vaguely answered a lot of Frank’s questions and that parallels with the way he answered questions when he returned to therapy in 5x13. Frank asked Eddie what he was afraid of and he started talking about how it was an opened question that he then compared with a trip to the dentist. At least in 3x9 he responded truthfully with how he didn’t want to be there but Frank learned during their very first session that the only way Eddie would open up in therapy would be whenever he talked about Christopher. He told Frank that he didn’t want Christopher to grow up to be like him and that parallels with Eddie’s therapy session in 5x13. After Frank asked Eddie a question about why he blew up at Bobby and he wouldn’t answer, Frank remembered the best way to make Eddie talk is to discuss Christopher so he asked, “How’s Christopher?” Eddie explained how Christopher had a rough time at Christmas and after that Eddie finally started talking about himself.
Eddie has always used Christopher as a shield instead of talking about himself when he’s asked a direct question about how he’s doing. He did it during his conversations with Shannon several times after she returned. In 2x13 “Fight or Flight”, he told her “You brought everything I needed” after she brought Christopher to the hospital while they were waiting to hear news about Chimney. Eddie told her that she could leave since she brought Christopher to him but she said that she wanted to stay and he didn’t look thrilled at the fact that she was staying there with him. He did it again in 2x17 “Careful What You Wish For” during their conversation at the restaurant when he told her that being Christopher’s father taught him more about being a man than the Army ever could have and that was the same conversation that Shannon told him she thought they should get a divorce.
Eddie did the same thing with Buck in 3x1 “Kids Today” when he took Christopher to Buck’s loft and told Buck it was because Christopher doesn’t feel sorry for himself when in actuality, he took Christopher there because he was worried about Buck just like Bobby had been. In 3x3 “The Searchers” Eddie took Christopher back to Buck’s loft and told him, after Buck felt like he failed Eddie and Christopher when they got separated in the Tsunami, “Why because you think you failed? I fail that kid more times than I care to count and I’m his father. But I love him enough to never stop trying and I know you do too” instead of him just telling Buck that he loves him. During their argument in the grocery store in 3x5 “Rage” Eddie used Christopher as a shield again when he said, “Do you know how much Christopher misses you? How could you, you’re not around!” instead of him just telling Buck that he missed him.
Eddie did it again during his conversation with Bobby in 3x8 “Malfunction” when he said, “Christopher needs me to be in control. He’s already lost one parent and I can’t let him down again” instead of him just explaining how he likes to be in control so that he doesn’t get hurt and to protect his own heart from being broken. In 5x3 “Desperate Measures” during his breakup conversation with Ana, he used Christopher as a shield again when he said, “Chris loves you so much” instead of him just telling Ana that he didn’t love her.
What are you afraid of?
When Frank asked Eddie, “What are you afraid of?” Eddie responded with “That’s a pretty open-ended question don’t you think? I mean I don’t love going to the dentist”. But when Buck asked Eddie the same question after his breakdown, Eddie responded, “That I’m never gonna feel normal again.” Why was Eddie quickly and easily able to answer Buck’s question but he wouldn’t answer that question when his therapist asked? Frank gets paid to listen to him but he wouldn’t answer the question. The reason is Buck is half of Eddie’s heart and he’s the only person Eddie has ever allowed himself to be vulnerable in front of and he knows Buck will love him anyway even when he cries or loses control. Also, Buck knows the real Eddie just like Eddie knows the real Buck.
Buck has always been able to make Eddie talk even when he wouldn’t talk to anyone else. Buck knows exactly what to say and how to get him to open up and he doesn’t have to mention Christopher to make Eddie talk to him. In 3x6 “Monsters”, Buck told Eddie, “I just want you to talk to me. Even if it’s just to let me know that you’re still mad” and Eddie said, “I’m not mad, I’m…”. Eddie was so hurt by Buck’s abandonment that he couldn’t even finish his sentence. During their conversation, neither of them mentioned Christopher but they did talk a lot about “Us” which could have been them talking about the two of them separately from the 118 or all of them together collectively at the 118.
Buck made Eddie talk again in 3x9 “Fallout” after he apologized for the second time when he told Eddie that he was sorry for not being there for him and Chris. They had a long conversation after Buck’s apology and Buck asked Eddie all the right questions and made the right assumptions to make him talk about the fighting he had been doing in that illegal fight club. Buck has an innate ability to get Eddie to talk about his own feelings instead of using Christopher as a shield and he’s been the only one in CANON to be successful at it. Therapy has caused Eddie to be more open regarding his feelings and he still has a lot trauma left to unpack but he’s finally working on himself and that is what’s important (read blog post: “Eddie Diaz: He’s going to therapy so that he can be better for himself” for more about Eddie’s therapy).
Phobophobia
Hen explained the definition of Phobophobia during her monologue as “The fear of being afraid. “The terror that comes from imagining the pounding of your heart, the racing of your pulse and the ensuing loss of control”.
The part she described as “the pounding of your heart” parallels with Eddie’s panic attacks because he described his first panic attack to Dr. Salazar as what he believed to have been a heart attack. She was the one who told him that panic attacks often present as heart attacks. That’s why he mistook his panic attack for a heart attack when in actuality it was his mind trying to tell him that he needed to deal with all of the things he’s been hiding from (read blog post: “Buck & Eddie: Eddie’s Heart-Reference #5” for more information on the things Eddie’s been hiding).
The part of Hen’s monologue that said, “the racing of your pulse and the ensuing loss of control” parallels with Eddie’s need to always be in control. In 3x8 “Malfunction” Eddie told Bobby that Christopher needs for him to be in control and that parallels with 5x13 because Eddie lost control when he had his breakdown and Christopher was there when he had it. His heart could no longer contain all of the things he’s tried to bury in it which means he has to start facing his past, including himself and figure out who he is instead of who he thinks people want him to be. His job at dispatch as the LAFD liaison for their Twitter account gave him too much time to think about his past and that’s what he’s spent years avoiding. When he was an active firefighter, their grueling work schedules allowed Eddie to ignore all of the things he put in a box inside of his mind because he was going from one call to the next. If they weren’t on a call, he was in the gym working out. Also the last time he and Buck were separated at work after Buck’s lawsuit, Eddie joined an illegal fight club so that he could lose control if only for a few minutes (read blog post: “Buck & Eddie: Eddie’s Heart-Reference #14” for more information about Eddie’s fighting and how he used it as a way to lose control).
Eddie’s actual heart is related to all the pain he’s experienced in his past and even though he’s tried to move forward, he couldn’t do it anymore. He broke down and smashed all the furniture in his bedroom and punched his walls with his fists because his heart was broken and he felt like he couldn’t go on. Pauline said, “I can’t function like this. Nothing means anything anymore. I feel like I am coming out of my skin, literally” and “I feel empty. If I operate out of fear and it goes away, how am I supposed to operate?” Eddie was listening to her talk with Hen through his radio and his facial expressions showed how he was relating to the things she said.
When Pauline said that she couldn’t function like that and that nothing means anything, it paralleled with what Eddie told Frank about how he usually feels during his first therapy session in 3x9 “Fallout”. He said, “It’s not normal, right? I have these moments that are good. We save somebody from dying, my kid does something awesome and its moments where I should be happy or proud or both. I know that. I just don’t feel it.” Eddie stopped his actual heart from feeling anything a long time ago and based on his reactions to his trauma related incidents, it started way before he went to the Army. It’s possible he’s not ready to face his first trauma related incident but that remains to be seen in his future therapy sessions.
Eddie projects all the love he wants to feel for himself through Christopher and since he knows that Buck loves Christopher just like he does, he won’t have to worry about Christopher if something happens to him since he named Buck to be Christopher’s legal guardian in his will. But Buck also loves Eddie and Eddie knows that but he just hasn’t allowed himself to feel like he’s worthy enough to be the recipient of it. Eddie loves Buck too but he’s spent too many years listening to other people’s opinions about who he should love and the type of relationship he should have. By doing that, he’s denied himself the opportunity to receive the greatest love of all from Buck, who is the love of his life. The Shooting caused them to be emotionally distant from each other because they were faced with losing it all and it caused them to retreat because the love they have for each other is so big it scares them. This is the first time either of them has ever been in love even though they were in relationships before, they were able to find something in each other they couldn’t find with anyone else (read blog post: “Buck & Eddie: "Their First Time Being in Love" for more information about Buck and Eddie’s first time being in love).
When Buck entered Eddie’s bedroom and he couldn’t see him, he panicked but it wasn’t anything like when he panicked at The Well. It was a quiet panic as he called out to Eddie two times because he thought Eddie was dead.
Buck wasn’t there during Eddie’s breakdown like he had been when Eddie got trapped in The Well in 3x15 “Eddie Begins”.
Or like he was there when Eddie got shot by the sniper in 4x13 “Suspicion”.
He was also there when Mitchell held Eddie hostage in 5x6 “Brawl in Cell Block 9-1-1” and he heard the gun shot which made him think Eddie had been shot again. Buck’s facial expression was completely different in 5x13 because he was trying to mentally prepare himself to see Eddie’s lifeless body. Eddie didn’t start crying until he heard Buck call out to him. He tried his best to remain quiet so that he wouldn’t scare Christopher but when he heard Buck’s voice, he knew Buck was going to help him “fix it” because that’s what Buck does, right? Eddie told Buck in 5x4 “Home and Away”, “You’re the guy who always likes to fix things” and in 5x18 “Starting Over” he responded with, “Fix it?” after Buck was talking about Bobby and the guilt he was carrying after the Jonah situation. Even though Buck should know by now that he can’t fix everything, he definitely knows that he loves Eddie, Eddie loves him too and that he’ll sacrifice everything to help heal Eddie and he proved that in 5x14 “Dumb Luck” after he organized The Buckley-Diaz Family outing to Equine Therapy (read blog post: “Buck & Eddie vs. Hen & Chimney: Relationship vs. Friendship” for more information on how Buck tried to help heal Eddie after his breakdown). Buck never gives up on Eddie and Eddie told him that too in 5x2 “Desperate Times” when Buck kept pestering him about what was wrong with him. Eddie told him, “You never give up do you? I’m fine Buck” when he really wasn’t fine because he had been having panic attacks (read blog post: “Buck & Eddie: Eddie said, “You never give up, do you?” or 6 times Buck wouldn’t give up on him & Eddie” for more information on how Buck won’t give up on Eddie). Buck wasn’t going to let Eddie break without being there to help him pick up the pieces.
Eddie has spent several years avoiding the things he believed would break his heart so he used Christopher as a shield to protect himself. He never allows himself to be happy because he’s spent too much time allowing others, including his parents, to tell him what he should want instead of him focusing on the things he wants for himself. He’s in therapy now and working on being better for himself but there are still a lot of things he needs to unpack, including all his firefighting related traumas. Coincidentally, he experienced all those traumas with Buck; therefore they will have to talk about those things including how scared they are of losing each other before they can move forward as a romantic couple.
Will Eddie be ready to admit the things that he’s been hiding in his heart for several years during season 6? Will he finally be ready to talk to Buck about The Shooting? Or will they have to go to therapy together in order to start that conversation? Only the showrunners, writers and producers know the answers to those questions.
Additional references for Eddie’s heart will be posted daily.
Links to “Heart References” posts
“Buck & Eddie: Eddie’s Heart-Reference #1”
“Buck & Eddie: Eddie’s Heart-References #2 & 3”
“Buck & Eddie: Eddie’s Heart-References #4, 10 & 16”
“Buck & Eddie: Eddie’s Heart-Reference #5”
“Buck & Eddie: Eddie’s Heart-Reference #6”
“Buck & Eddie: Eddie’s Heart-Reference #7”
“Buck & Eddie: Eddie’s Heart-Reference #8”
“Buck & Eddie: Eddie’s Heart-Reference #9”
“Buck & Eddie: Eddie’s Heart-Reference #11”
“Buck & Eddie: Eddie’s Heart-Reference #12”
“Buck & Eddie: Eddie’s Heart-Reference #13”
“Buck & Eddie: Eddie’s Heart-Reference #14”
#buddie#eddie diaz#evan buckley#christopher diaz#anti taylor kelly#anti bucklucy#anti lucy donato#anti bucktaylor#911 s6#911 season 6#911 speculation#911 meta#911onfox#911 fox#911 on fox#911 season 5#911 s5#911#Eddie Diaz's Heart
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I've heard several BTs compare Buck's and Taylor's current troubles to ones overcome by Athena/Bobby, Hen/Karen, and Maddie/Chimney, where all the couples have come out stronger on the other side. In your mind, are the situations similar? And if they're different, how?
Hi hon! Thank you so much for this ask!
NGL, I was thinking of this as there's a good chance Buck's fear his r/s with Taylor might end is more likely to end with them staying together for the time being, with all of the build up they've given us for her backstory, plus that this wording in the synopsis is too explicit, and for the ep to be surprising, it has to go in another direction after the initial fear is expressed.
That said, even if B/T do temporarily overcome an obstacle, they're not the same as the show’s other couples. In all of those, both partners (even Karen who's the most minor of them all and the one who's most there as a Love Interest) were made characters in their own right. The show is invested in them. I've written more than once, including in replies to asks and weekly meta posts, about how Taylor has been underdeveloped (even taking a step back from past characterization in eps 501-507). For the first 6 eps of s5 she was barely a character, 507 was the first to give him some real screen time and even that was used more to hint at stuff than actually develop her.
The show has also (for the most part) given those couples obstacles AFTER doing its best to make sure we're invested in them. Did anyone's heart not flinch at the return of Eva in 507, or break for Karen when she said "everyone I love most belonged to you first"? Did Bathena's tensions in s4 not affect us more because we have seen how great the family they built together is and how good they are for each other, after all of their past pain? That’s more akin to Buddie than to B/T, who have been for the most part pretty isolated from the rest of the firefam... Even when Taylor was there with the 118 after ep 206, she barely had any interactions with them, def no meaningful ones. And Buck has a sis and BIL on the show! Yet we didn’t see Taylor with any of the people who matter most to her bf. The most significant interaction she’s had so far has been with Lou, a minor character himself, who also disliked her and who, as I pointed out in my 507 meta, did not come to suddenly appreciate her.
And let’s not forget, to be an ‘endgame’ couple isn’t necessarily about right away overcoming your obstacles. Karen first left Hen after learning about the cheating, back in s1. They’re stronger than ever now. Maddie first called a stop to her romance with Chim in 213. Now they’re fiercely together and committed, even throughout Maddie’s absence. They’re going through a rough patch, but we have no doubt they’re meant to be together.
In contrast, Buck wasn’t sure he wanted to be with Abby in 109, but then he overcame his hesitation in the same ep, and yet just one ep later Abby broke up with him (he just didn’t realize that’s what happened until much later). Ali wasn’t sure the firefighter’s gf life was for her, but they seemed to be willing to test things to find out when they had this talk in 218. Then in 301 we discovered that at some point later, they broke up, and it wasn’t even important enough to be shown on screen. Overcoming things here and now doesn’t necessarily translate into a future together. What does is a solid foundation in where both characters are developed and the r/s is really invested in, neither of which currently applies to Taylor or B/T.
I hope this helped? Please never hesitate to let me know if it did or didn’t. I work as a tour guide, I actually welcome this type of feedback every day. XD
Thank you so much for the ask, lovely! And I hope you’re having a great day! xoxox
To anyone else who sent me an ask, I am going through all of them, thank you so much for your patience! If you wanna check whether I’ve replied to yours yet, you can have a look at my ask tag. xoxox
#buddie#911meta#buddie meta#911 meta#9-1-1#evan buck buckley#evan buckley#eddie diaz#edmundo diaz#ask#gates-keeper#911onabc#911 on abc#911abc#911 abc
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Too Short For Ao3 Fic #3? 4?
SO this is the extended edition of the bonus wip I did with Sally's birthday. The overall fic it belongs to is Extremely Smutty, so I went in and revised out the brief references and I'm posting the family-centric g-rated stuff for anyone who wants that but not the smut! Cough.
Also, I felt bad about missing WIP Wednesday again. Lolsob.
Percy rouses at around eleven PM to a sketch of himself on Jason's pillow. There's a note on the other side.
I wanted to wake you up to say goodbye, but you looked so comfy I didn't have the heart to. your mom's presents are in the bag by my desk. say hi to everyone for me. I'll call tomorrow anyway.
love you to the moon and back.
-J. ❤
Complete with a little red heart. He doesn't even care that the doodle of him next to it, burritoed in a pile of blankets, includes a little spot of drool— he can tell by the rest of his cartoony, ballpoint features that Jason put it in because he thinks it's cute.
(And by the fact that he's said so, several times.)
Percy gathers up his junk. The cornflower blue sweatshirt he steals goes halfway down his fingers. He's come to accept that at six foot three and counting, Jason is the taller of them and always will be— barring some sort of horrible wood-chipper accident or curse from a grumpy deity.
Fortunately, there's something about looking up to meet someone's eyes that Percy finds incredibly attractive. He has since Annabeth outgrew him for the first time in eighth grade.
He heads out in his own jeans and the boxers he packed and the sweatshirt that smells like cinnamon. Once he boards the train, he stands with his arm around a pole and the other holding the bag against his chest, and tries to stay casual and keep the grin off his face.
It's almost midnight when he gets home. His mom, of course, is still awake, so he heads into the living room to greet her.
"My other half says hello."
There's a pile of presents on the coffee table. He puts the bag with the rest of them and sits down, kissing her cheek.
"He didn't have to get me anything." She closes her book and eyes the bag with a fond sigh. "How is he?"
Percy's the same way she is, always happy to do favors and give gifts, but feeling pretty awkward about receiving them. Jason's even worse, the three of them in an ongoing and circular competition to never let any of it go reciprocated.
"Working too hard, as always. Pulling As and winning games and barely sleeping to do it. His stepmother's up his ass and his father's a bully, so, you know, news at eleven." He leans his head onto her shoulder. "That's why he gives you stuff. He's trying to show you how much he appreciates you."
She sighs, and Percy knows it's because she's just as frustrated by the whole thing as he is.
"He knows I appreciate him too, I hope."
"Without a doubt." Percy smiles at her, watching as she goes a little pink and smiles back. "You have a talent for making him feel appreciated."
"He treats my baby like a prince," she says softly. "That's why I appreciate him so much in the first place. How could I do anything else?"
Percy turns his face into her shirt collar, another futile attempt to hide his goofy expression,
"He really does, doesn't he?"
Holding doors, pulling out chairs, offering an arm on unsteady streets. Jason's never laid his coat over a puddle, but Percy's pretty sure he would, if the option presented itself.
His mom starts playing with his hair, her fingers light and familiar.
"I'm just happy you're happy, sweetheart."
He knows that feeling too.
Half asleep from the petting, Percy lets himself be a little babyish. It's after midnight now, which means it's her birthday, and he knows that sometimes she misses when he was Estelle's age and little enough to curl up in her lap. He's way too big for that now, obviously, but he can still slide down the couch and rest his head there.
"You too, Mama."
She looks at him, her eyes misty with emotion and almost green in the light.
She's smiling, too.
She smiles a lot, these days.
—
In the morning, Paul makes coffee while Estelle helps unwrap the avalanche of presents. She's at the age where ripping paper makes her squeal with hysterical laughter, which worms its way into Percy's heart and melts it into pudding.
Several of them are from Percy's friends, including a handbound book of original recipes from Leo, a lovely silver bracelet inset with mother-of-pearl that Beckendorf made himself, and a huge sheathed knife with a matching decorative handle from Clarisse. The last one makes his mom snort as she gets up to put it on the bookshelf, out of reach of curious toddler hands.
"Decorative. Sure."
"I bet she'd teach you how to use it if you asked."
"I know how to use a bowie knife, dear. Your father and I used to catch and cook our own fish when we went camping."
"Which reminds me, he still hasn't taken me out," Paul cuts in, frowning. "I've been saving up dad jokes and embarrassing stories for four years."
"I'll bug him about it the next time we talk," Percy promises. "It's probably the ADHD."
"Do you want me to bug you about bugging him?"
"If you haven't set something up by blueback season, yeah."
Percy and Paul went in on a pound of jasmine tea, which his mom reaches for next. She immediately asks for a cup— it's one of two days out of the entire year where she lets other people wait on her, for a change, and even that took a lot of cajoling.
Paul makes the tea, since Percy usually scalds the leaves and it turns out tasting like grass. She probably wouldn't complain anyway, but it's her birthday, and she deserves to have the best tea that can be made in their kitchen.
"Is the last bag from Jason?" Paul sets the mug on a coaster in the middle of the coffee table, and Percy scoops the baby into his lap so she doesn't try to grab it. She mashes her tiny hand against his cheek.
"And Thalia. I'm not sure if they went in on stuff or he just packed them both in one bag to make it easy."
Either is a possibility. He watches as his mom reaches in and pulls out a large wrapped frame, Thalia's spiky handwriting answering the question.
Whatever's inside, it makes her shut her eyes and exhale deeply through her nose.
"Please pass on that I am absolutely furious."
She turns the frame around. An autographed vinyl EP of Sign O' the Times by Prince— one of the albums Percy grew up on, though she skipped a number of the songs when he was little. Thalia must have spent a fortune on it.
"That woman is incredible," Paul breathes, lightly touching the glass. "How does she get this stuff?"
"See!"
"She has friends in high places." Percy grins as Estelle reaches for the album, and holds her over the glass so she can touch it too. "She's also really good at barter chains."
His mother shakes her head, but he can tell how delighted she is— the two of them have spent hours animatedly talking about music, Thalia hanging on every word and groaning with jealousy over the concerts his mom went to in the eighties.
"I know exactly where I'm going to put it."
Thalia got her a turntable for her fortieth birthday last year, as well as a full set of replacements for every worn-out record in their collection— and had the originals framed too, since they had sentimental value. They're currently occupying the better part of two walls of his mom's study.
There's a blank spot by her bookshelf, right underneath the first copy, that the autographed album will fit into perfectly. Percy grins.
"I'll hang it up for you later."
She doesn't argue. There's only Jason's left, his careful print written out across the same paper Thalia used. The crinkling draws Estelle's attention, and she gleefully reaches over to help tear it off.
Their mom gasps at what's inside and puts a hand to her mouth, her eyes going bright.
It's a watercolor portrait of Percy and Estelle, laughing by the shoreline. She's dressed in a little bucket hat, a ruffled swimsuit patterned to look like a clownfish and the coolest shades in the world— sparkly blue frames shaped like seashells that he kind of wishes he could get in his size. He's in a wetsuit, having spent the morning surfing, and he's holding onto her hands so she can jump at the waves. In the distant background is the Montauk lighthouse.
It's beautifully done, like everything else Jason's ever put to paper, but Percy's never choked up like this over one of them.
"You remember that, Beluga? That was on my birthday, when you came and visited me and Jason at the beach."
"Beach?" she asks, expectant. Paul bursts into laughter, sounding as rough-voiced as Percy feels.
"You're your mother's daughter, sweet pea."
"Beach!" Estelle insists. Percy noses her pudgy cheek.
"It's too cold to swim, baby." His mom's eyes are sparkling, still a little teary. He can see Estelle in the smile on her face. "But we could go for a walk and visit."
"Brunch first." Paul kisses her— Percy averts his eyes, wrinkling his nose at his sister to make her giggle again— and gets up, heading back into the kitchen.
It's a lovely way to spend a late morning. Pale blue araucana eggs courtesy of Grover's new hens, a blueberry coffee cake from Nico by a fantastic hole in the wall in Hell's Kitchen, Paul's signature home fries made with blue potatoes and seasoned to perfection; all of it delicious.
Jason calls while Percy's doing the dishes. After his deep, resonant performance of the happy birthday song, the five of them chat on speakerphone for a little while, though he has to excuse himself pretty quickly to keep banging through his reading.
"Maybe next year," Percy sighs. His mom puts her hand on his hip, then crouches down to help Estelle with her light-up sneakers.
"He's always welcome for a rain check."
"He's always welcome, period," Paul adds. For the second time, Percy gets dangerously close to sniffling.
Montauk is a little far for a day trip, so they head to Brighton Beach instead. Estelle's shrimpy legs get tuckered out more quickly than the grownups' do, so Percy ends up carrying her on his hip, snuggled into his jacket to block the chilly breeze. She points at seagulls, shouting triumphantly every time.
"More bird!"
"That's right. A whole flock of 'em."
They watch for a while as the gulls fight over a discarded pizza crust. Then Percy feels an arm around his back and a head against his shoulder.
"I don't know how I got so lucky," his mother murmurs, barely audible over the rushing of the waves.
Percy's eyes sting.
For most of his life, her birthdays had been spent without fanfare. He was rarely actually there for them anyway, and Gabe complained so much it was easier to just ignore the day and focus on survival instead.
She'd been triaging like that since before she even met his dad, keeping herself afloat when nobody seemed to care if she drowned. It would have been easy to lie down and give up. Percy's pretty sure he would have, in her place.
He turns to hug her with the obligatory proclamation of a Stella Sandwich. He catches Paul's eye over her shoulder, and gets a wide, sentimental grin in response.
"Luck's got nothing to do with it," Percy tells her, leaning his cheek against the top of her head while his sister wriggles with delight between them.
"Listen to our son," Paul adds. "He's very wise, as you raised him to be. This is all on you, honey."
Within moments, she's surrounded by her whole family on all sides, and Percy has another arm around his back, and he's getting a little choked up over it all.
When she first started dating Paul, back when Percy was still in middle school, she'd spent weeks all aflutter. It was the happiest he'd ever seen her at the time. They'd sit outside and work on her car together, and she'd slip into song like a grease-stained fairytale princess without even thinking about it.
Seeing them interact is like cool water on a burn, Paul's devoted kindness soothing a lifetime of sitting back and watching people treat her like dirt. He worships her, just like she deserves and long overdue.
"I love you," she says, tearful and muffled in someone's shoulder. "All of you, more than anything."
"Love Mama," Estelle replies, and that's it— Percy's blubbering.
It'll never undo the damage, but it's about time she got a chance to heal and thrive.
-here in our bed, chapter 7, ~6200 words
#wip wednesday#yes I know don't look at me like that#i wrote this#sally jackson#paul blofis#estelle blofis#family fic#oh lord the cheese
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Dea!!! I am so in love with your Buddie the old guard fic I've read it so many times now I LOVE IT could you maybe write a little sequel to it with Eddie whitnessing Buck dying and coming back to life for the first time! No pressure obvs but you'd make me super happy! thanks again for writing the buddie old guard au fic ITS SO GOOD!!!!!!!!
Hayley I am so sorry for making you wait!
Also on AO3
“How much are you willing to wager,” Hen challenges, her own stack of bills being dropped on the table like a declaration of war.
Chim eyes everyone carefully, emptying out all the money in his wallet with a confident pop of his gum. “I’m all in. Buck?”
“All in. Eddie?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Oh, come on! It’s tradition,” Buck begs, practically pouting as he tries to get Eddie to join in on the bet. He refuses every time and every time Buck acts surprised.
“Pretty sure the only tradition here is them getting all of your money,” Eddie points out with a smirk, earning a sharp laugh from Athena.
“You are too young to be this lame,” Buck sighs dramatically as Eddie rolls his eyes. He might be lame, but at least he will keep his money.
Just like that Hen is crowing as Buck laments his defeat. He looks to him with wide eyes in hopes of sympathy but all Eddie can do is laugh. He did warn him.
Athena and Bobby were chuckling fondly from their spot in the corner, speaking to each other without saying a word as they do often do. After one night of partaking in too much of Hen’s sangria he asked Buck if they had developed telepathic powers and Buck laughed so hard he snorted red wine out his nose. Considering their immortal status he didn’t think it was quite that funny, but Buck disagreed.
Looking at them now he still says it was a valid question.
“Okay everyone listen up,” Athena announces, drawing the attention of everyone with the simple command. “We have some news.”
“New job,” Buck asks eagerly, already wanting to speed ahead.
Bobby and Athena share a sad look and for the first time since Eddie has known them they look like they’re struggling to find the words to say. Athena stands, picking at a scab on her arm.
A scab.
She shouldn’t have a—
“I’m mortal.”
It’s funny how you can live for a millennia and a single moment can still knock you to your knees.
Athena could still have three, maybe even four, decades with them, but suddenly each moment is finite. He knew this was possible, Buck had told him about Abby, but it wasn’t real until now.
He may not know her as well as the others; hasn’t watched dynasties rise and fall with her, but she’s his family now. He foolishly thought he’d have more time before saying goodbye to family again.
But it’s not about him. It’s about Athena. It’s about the people who have loved her for centuries trying to wrap their minds around life without her.
Eddie doesn’t know much about Buck’s parents, partly because there isn’t much worth remembering from the way Buck tells it, but Athena is his mother for all intents and purposes. Now that she’s - not vulnerable (she’d stab him for even thinking it) - mortal, Buck has been like an overprotective mother hen. Athena has looked ready to strangle him on more than one occasion and he’s pretty sure the fussing is more likely to take years off her life than anything else.
And it’s sweet. Funny even, how Athena looks at him with such exasperated fondness.
Only that overprotectiveness makes a reckless Buck even more reckless.
Which, fine, Buck’s immortal. For now. Because that’s the thing, isn’t it? The idea that immortality just ends was hypothetical before now.
And Buck is—
Buck is—
Buck is his family. His person. The only reason he doesn’t spend this eternity of his lamenting every new day.
Buck has been on this earth for nearly a millennia without him, but Eddie doesn’t want to live without him. Not for a thousand years or a thousand days or even a thousand minutes. Not because he needs Buck, but because he wants him. He wants his kind eyes and infectious laughter beside his side. He wants the feel of his breath on the back of his neck as he lays curled in behind him. He’s not sure he can go back to sleeping alone.
A shame he’ll need roughly a thousand years to figure out a way to finally tell him, which is not going to happen with Buck being so eager to get himself killed.
Buck insists on throwing himself into danger, which means Eddie has to throw himself further. He’s younger, newer, he can take more hits. He knows logically that Buck must have died hundreds of times before him, but he hasn’t died since Eddie killed him. Maybe he can’t keep him alive forever, but he can certainly try.
Bobby catches on first.
“Nasty hit you took today.”
“I’ve had worse,” Eddie says nonchalantly, fingers flexing against a phantom wound long since healed. Buck stormed out earlier, pissed he jumped in front of a bullet for him only to bleed out slowly. Tonight Buck will hold him closer, making sure he’s still in one piece; a bittersweet ritual they’ve formed together. He’ll take the anger if it keeps Buck safe.
“You’ve been taking a lot of hits lately.”
“Saying I should work on my ducking skills?”
“Saying you can’t take them all,” Bobby replies, cutting off whatever comment he might be opening his mouth to say with a look. “When is the last time Buck died?”
“You should ask—“
“When?”
“When I shot him,” Eddie admits, jaw clenching.
“He’s had a good run, but good runs end. He knows what’s at stake just like everyone else. We can’t outrun the inevitable. You’ll drive yourself crazy if you try,” Bobby says softly, an unspoken pain behind his eyes. “Don’t miss out on the good worrying about the bad.”
“Wouldn’t have to if he wasn’t so eager to put himself in harm’s way,” Eddie deflects, no real malice in his words.
“Funny, that’s what Buck said about Athena.”
That was hardly the same. Buck is being reckless, Eddie is just—
Well it’s not like he can take care of him through his cooking, now can he?
The next few months they take it easy on the missions, focusing on time together as a family. It’s good, great even, but it’s only a matter of time before the world has a need for their set of skills.
Which is how they find themselves in this dimly lit warehouse in what is clearly a trap.
He and Buck have taken the front, trying to clear a path to the escape route so they can’t get pinned in. The sharp pops of bullets flood his ears, a fog of plaster dust filling the air as bullets lodge in walls instead of bone.
There are too many blind spots and not enough cover.
There’s shouting, cries of pain, but none of them familiar. They’re gaining ground, they’re getting out, they’re—
The sick sound of a bullet striking flesh, muscle, bone enters his ear. A spray of blood hits his cheek.
Eddie turns to see Buck crumple against the ground.
Suddenly there is no noise, no friends or foes. There was only Buck lifeless on the floor, his head a gaping wound of brain matter and skull.
He falls to his knees beside him, blood soaking his trousers as he reaches out to help him. Only, he doesn’t know how to fix this.
“Buck, wake up. Buck. Buck.” He doesn’t recognize his voice, doesn’t recognize the frantic panic of this strange sound coming out of his mouth.
He thinks of all those zombie movies he used to watch with his sisters when he was young. The only way to kill them was to take out the brain. They couldn’t come back from that. Buck couldn’t—
Eddie shot him in the head once, but this was different. There hadn’t been this hole. There hadn’t been brain matter scattered across the floor. Buck hadn’t taken this long to wake up.
He can’t do this without him. He doesn’t want to do this without him.
“Wake up, wake up, you have to wake up,” Eddie demands, then begs.
“Eddie, we have to keep going,” Chim says from across the room, providing cover from enemies he couldn’t care less about. “He’ll catch up.”
He ignores him. Of course he ignores him. He can’t leave Buck. He’s going to wake up, he has to, so why is it taking so long?
The team moves on, because there is no other choice if they want to get out of here, but Eddie doesn’t move. He waits for a sign of life, anything, but Buck stays perfectly still. He should be healing already, blue eyes fluttering and a smile on his lips. He shouldn’t be so still and pale under the stark stream of red.
He’s so lost waiting for puffs of air that aren’t coming he misses the footsteps behind him. It’s not until he feels rough hands grabbing at him that he remembers the fight. He feels a knife slide through his ribs as they try to drag him back. He thrashes wildly, scrambling for any weakness he can exploit. They’re not going to take him away from Buck. He’s not leaving him alone. He’s not—
A single shot rings out and the man Eddie was fighting falls.
Eddie turns back to Buck who is sitting up with a gun in hand.
Eddie scrambles over to him, pulling him close, feeling the side of his head to make sure he’s whole.
“Eddie, we need to catch up with the others,” Buck urges, already back in the game. How can he be so calm? How can he be so steady? “Eddie. Eddie.”
“Your birthmark grew back.”
Buck’s face grows soft for a moment, letting out a puff of breath like it was punched out of him. Eddie can feel the wound on his side healing, but he ignores it, busy feeling the pulse of Buck’s heartbeat where his hand rests on Buck’s neck.
“Eddie, we have to keep going.”
“You weren’t waking up. You took so long to wake up.”
“I’m here, Eddie,” Buck insists, resting his forehead warm and whole against Eddie’s. “I’m here. I’m not leaving you, okay? I won’t leave you. Now let’s go.”
Eddie goes with him because there is no other option. He doesn’t want to be anywhere without him.
It doesn’t doesn’t get any easier to watch him die, but Buck always comes back to him. He has to believe he always will.
#9-1-1#buddie#evan buckley#Eddie Diaz#old guard AU#Cw: gun violence#Cw: gore#Cw: death (brief)#my stuff#for Hayley who has been waiting forever#happy Valentine’s have AU nonsense
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On Everlasting Adventures with You
Pairing : Legolas x Time Traveller! / Immortal! Reader , Platonic! Thranduil x Reader
Warnings: Slight Angst , Slight war plot , Kind of OOC Thranduil ,Y/N being an oblivious idiot ,Fluff
Summary : Returning abruptly years later may or may not have been Y/N's best decision
.............
Legolas tsked as he fought against a Orc ,regretting not leaving with Gimli to the undying lands and staying back in Mirkwood . Especially considering the frequent spider and orc attacks. A series of loud bangs erupted startling the elves , followed by the orcs dropping dead, a hole burning through each of their heads. "Whoooo ! 1800 years and I've still got it ! Still a bit rough on the edges though-" Stretch. The owner of the voice froze, her hands in the air as if in surrender,looking at Legolas who had drawn his arrow aiming at her . She awkwardly chucked "Surprise?....... Wrong timing? ", she says, immediately regretting it.
Time Skip
"Oh come on! Guys let me at least explain ! Thranduil, Legolas, even you Tauriel ? ", the woman coaxed as she was being escorted into the dungeons by the soldiers, her hands tied behind her back. The three elves ignored her as she was pushed into the dungeons hearing Legolas hissing at the soldiers to 'be gentle' making a smile appear on the woman's face. Now leaving her alone inside forgetting about her hands still being tied to her back
Irritated. The prince tossed around on his mattress as his brain refused to shut down for that night, a quick thought coming into his head. He sat up straight fetching his bow and arrow as he proceeded to walk out of his chambers .The corridors of the palace being silent with nothing but the sounds of the crickets chirping. He sneaked down the stairs rushing into the celllar “Your hands !-”,he stopped his eyes snapping towards the woman as she sat by the litte ledge inside the cellar looking out of the small window as the moon shone on her face. She looked at the prince bringing her untiedhands forward. “They forgot to do it for me so I did it myself .I may have dislocated my shoulder though.” She said as Legolas stood there with his jaw clenched. “Didn’t you feel guilt ?” , he whispered his voice almost left unheard to the woman. She averted her gaze avay from Legolas ,”What are you saying ?” .”YOU DISSAPPEARED Y/N ! YOU LEFT US ! YOU DESTROYED WHAT WAS LEFT BETWEEN US !”,the prince vented angrily making the woman flinch. “Please Legolas, try to understand ! I was only trying to save you, to save Mirkwood” .”Oh stop it ! Protect us from what !? Surprise Y/N ! We can protect ourselves.” Y/N pinched her forehead ,”You may be strong in middle earth but you can’t protect yourself from the future!” “Get to the point.” “I AM A TIME TRAVELLER LEGOLAS ! I CANNOT STAY AT ONE PLACE FOREVER “ . silence. “Are you humoring me ? Time travellers can’t possibly exist.”,Legolas said,slightly annoyed by this point. “I am not , we exist,we are what the future calls as royalty Legolas.Each kingdom has one who will rule them. I had stayed in Mirkwood longer than required it is against the customs of a time traveller . The night before I dissappeared I had gotten a warning from the council of the future ,to leave or give up the throne of my kingdom . If I didn’t choose either they promised to destroy what was precious to me.....Mirkwood. And if I chose to give up the throne and have had joined you in the fellowship you would have died protecting me, and I could never forgive myself for that. Not only for loosing you but for taking a son away from his father.You are way too precious to Thranduil, I saw how devasted he would have been. I chose to leave and promised to return in a year or two . But the council threatened my family that they’d take over our people if I leave for the next few years. I thought it was best to wait...Till the entire council dies and a new,good council is formed. I took long....and now all of you hate me....” , said Y/N giving a dry humourless chuckle.Legolas looked at her ,she had changed , she was no longer the girl laughed at everything,the girl everyone in Mirkwood including Thranduil adored . The girl before him was built to fight,couldn’t feel pain, her bright (e/c) eyes faded to nothingness ,pleading for help .And here the entirity of Mirkwood saw her as a betrayer.He couldn’t bear to look at her anymore. Y/N's eyes softened at the elven Prince's guilt tripped face as she moved towards the bars dividing the two . "It doesn't matter anymore. I just wanted to see all of you. " "BUT IT DOES MATTER! " ,Y/N's eyes widened due to his sudden outburst ."Lego-" "IT MATTERS BECAUSE I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU!".Silence. As if the air just got thicker. A thick lump formed in the woman's throat as her heart paliptated ridiculously. " How long?", Y/N croaked, her voice barely a whisper as it fell into the Prince's elvish ears."Since the day you saved that little elf from getting hit by an arrow", whispered back Legolas coming closer to the bars. Somehow it seemed as if Y/N’s eyes were returning with colour.
The two were quite alarmingly close,but it did not bother them. Not now,not ever.Legolas took Y/N’s hands by slipping his behind the bars . A soft sigh escaped for both their mouths before Legolas pressed his lips against her soft ones.It seemed like an eternity before the two seperated breathing heavily . They stared at each other in peaceful silence before Legolas took the initiative to speak up, “I’ll tell Ada, I’ll ask him to let you go ,we’ll tell him the truth..” Y/N looked at him blankly a small hint of confusion on her face. “But Thranduil knows what I am.” This time it was Legolas’ chance to make the confused face before coming into realization, “WHAT !?” ,he almost yelled making Y/N frantically shush him not to attract any attention from the guards. “I had told him when I had first come here to prove I’m not an intruder. Even when I left,I left him a letter on the reason of my sudden departure. I am pretty sure he is angry that I have been away for a longer time than I told him. He feels lied to.” Legolas looked at her exasperated.He was at a loss of words. “I am still asking Ada to release you”, he said before giving her one last kiss and leaving the dungeon.
--Time Skip--
Y/N sat on her knees in front of the throne, her hands tied behind her back as she and everyone in the court watched the elven king twirling the gun he confiscated from the girl while looking straight at her. “How does this.....contraption....work..?” , he said pointing it towards the ceiling as Y/N’s eyes widened “Thran- I don’t think that is a good idea.THRANDUIL N-” bang “- o”.The noise made the ever stoic elves flinch with shock,Thranduil almost falling off his throne as he and his subjects looked at the precise hole on the ceiling above him. The distraction gave time to Y/N to easily get out of her restraints as she stomped up to Thranduil, snatching the gun out of his hand. “Give me that! You really need to start listening instead of being stubborn Thran ! One wrong aim and I swear to God one of us would have dropped dead including your dumbass!?”, she yelled at the still shock ridden elven king. He just stared at her, though through his stoic face she could very much see he missed her. She missed him too. She loved him,he was her best friend and she knew that excuses were usless, for she had broken her promise to him. He had waited, everyone had. She had to make it all right. She sighed, her eyes softened now,the same way they had softened for Legolas yesterday night.If there was any softeness left in the girl anymore it was probably only there for the father and his son. The rest leaving as years passed. She stepped down the throne as looked at Legolas, who was practically begging her to not do anything more stupid or she’ll be put in the dungeons again. But she was Y/N , a time traveller, adventure and stupidity practically ran in her blood. Not only that but she’d even claim that she new Thranduil a bit better than most. Being a time traveller gave her a chance to predict future or correct the past considering that was exactly what her duty was truly supposed to be,correcting timelines that is. She had restored the future elven race by making sure Thranduil was save and sound, she had overlooked him since he was a mere elfling and was probably also one of the reason the king had survived the wrath of the northern dragons with just his face scarred she had stopped looking after him after that. She knew Thranduil but he didn’t know her until she made a sudden appearence during the battle of the five armies .She knew how to make Thranduil forgive her and even more. She mumbled a few incantations and suddenly a small glass globe appeared in front of Thranduil. “Thran, I’m really sorry about what happened but what the globe shows is the true reason I broke my promise,” the woman said with full sincerity.
There was silence in the throne room before Thranduil made an action as if to dismiss the court asking only Legolas and you to stay. “You did it for us...”,he said confirming his own words earning a nod from the woman. “Then I guess I have to apologize for putting you into the dungeons although it seems to have been proven quite useful to you and Legolas. The other two in the room froze. One looking at the other in quite the shock unlike the king who seemed to have a smug look upon his face. “Globe you little shit !”, grumbled Y/N makng the globe dissapear. Legolas figured that the globe may have shown more than necessary. “I want to hear it from you, Iôn nin”,his father practically ordered. “Im mel hen (I love her)”,he replied a sudden shyness engulfing Y/N. “I know you will ask me to let Legolas go on adventures with you but I’m still quite unconvinced.”, said Thranduil deciding to tease the woman a bit more. Y/N only grinned bashfully before saying, “I figured, so I may have brought you the best wine from my age and it’s in my time travelling machine”. The king grumbled, “Fine ! But both of you better return here every 10 years !” “Aww will someone miss us?” “Shut up Y/N” “Ada!”
--Time Skip--
“Are you ready to go my Prince ?”
“I promised Y/N, I promised to go on Everlasting Adventures with you..”
--Fin--
Yaay! Finally done ! I have been pondering like an idiot over this fic but I guess it turned out well ! This wasn’t a request but I felt like it was really interesting ! I hope you guys liked it ! Please do comment me your thoughts!” Thank you for reading ! I love you guys!
~Love, Hri
#lord of the rings#the hobbit#legolas imagines#legolas#legolas x reader#legolas x you#legolas imagine#legolas x y/n#thranduil x reader#thranduil imagine#Thranduil#lotr imagine#lotr x reader#mirkwood elves#hobbit x reader#orlando bloom#fanfiction#lotr fanfic#hobbit fanfiction
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Melt into Me (Your Words Are My Own)
WinterIron, E, 18k, Heavy casual praise kink, pining, non-graphic injury, self care is big sexy | AO3
Remember when I said this prompt for WinterIronMonth got way out of hand? I was young and naive. It’s a monster. Here it is I’m super proud of it.
This fic, like lots of other fic, is all Stella’s fault. Everyone say thank you. And an extra big thank you for the idea, and the title, and in general letting me whine about this fic at you all the way through. You are truly a treasure.
-
Bucky has a new strategy for getting Tony to take proper human care of himself. Tony has never been so well fed, hydrated, thoroughly rested, and confused in all his life.
That doesn’t mean he wants it to stop, and it’s amazing how many boring adult things Bucky can get him to do just by patting his head and calling him ‘good boy’. Right up until Tony possibly ruins everything.
-
“Did you actually go to medical before coming down here?” Bucky asks as he walks into the lab. He fixes Tony with an expectant stare, looking freshly showered and gorgeous and-
Tony viciously shoves down that line of thought, instead holds up his arm and shows off the neat line of stitches on his forearm “I did,” he says smugly, “and you can tell, because these are much neater than when I do it myself.”
“Your stitches are terrible, I’ve seen literal evil scientists with better needlework than you,” Bucky says agreeably, stepping close to inspect Tony’s arm before giving a satisfied nod.
“That’s hurtful,” Tony says, dropping his arm and turning back to his worktable before he does something stupid like lean in and try to get a big whif of the shampoo Bucky uses. “Now where’s my treat, that was the deal, I went and let the ‘professionals’ sew me up and you better not be backing out on your end of the deal, or-“ Tony cuts off when a ziplock bag of homemade cookies lands on the table in front of him, straight from Bucky’s secret stash that no one has been able to find. “Yay,” he says gleefully, ripping into the bag.
Bucky’s hand is suddenly resting on top of his head, gently ruffling it, and Tony is uncomfortably aware of the fact that his hair is a sweaty mess because he may have gotten distracted on the way to his post-battle shower. Then Bucky pats his head and coos “yeah, tha’s a good boy.” His voice is equal parts teasing and amused, maybe a hint of condescension and underneath it all a fond warmth, like he really is pleased Tony dragged his pitiful human ass to medical after a relatively routine fight.
Tony flushes hot, nearly chokes on his giant mouthful of cookie and the only saving grace is that Bucky has already wandered away to play some kind of elaborate game with the bots. Tony still does not understand the rules of said game, and he wishes he found it less endearing that Bucky refuses to explain it to him.
Okay, so. That... that happened. Tony turns his attention back to the gauntlet he’s trying to repair and tells himself it’s fine, it’s not like it’ll ever happen again. It’s fine.
-
And the thing is, it’s not like Tony meant for it to happen again. It’s not like he was aiming for it. At least... not intentionally.
It’s just that Bucky’s been pestering him about actually remembering to eat lunch at a decent time recently, so when one day Tony actually does remember he decides to rub it in a little. ‘Ate lunch,’ he texts even though it’s silly, it doesn’t even matter and Bucky is only a couple floors up helping Steve rearrange furniture to Natasha’s liking for the millionth time. ‘Don’t see the big deal, but now maybe you’ll leave me alone you big mother hen.’
About half an hour later, Tony is heading to check out the new common room arrangement when Bucky texts him back and he laughs when he sees that it’s just a cookie emoji. Then Bucky adds ‘good boy’ and Tony makes a strangled sound as he walks into the still-opening doors of the elevator.
Tony spins on his heel and punches the door-close button before anyone spots him. Because he really doesn’t need company while he presses his flaming red face against the cool metal wall of the elevator, his heart thumping hard in his chest. Tony firmly tells himself that had not been his intention, and it’s really a good thing he’s so experienced at lying to himself.
-
Tony tracks Bucky down to hand over the fancy new scope he’s just finished, and finds him in the library curled up in an oversized armchair. It’s unfairly adorable, and Bucky’s smile does dangerous things to his heart.
“Thanks doll,” Bucky says, staring up at him instead of inspecting his new toy. When Tony tries to literally wave him off, already turning for the door, Bucky catches him by the wrist and gives a gentle tug until Tony relents and meets his stupid earnest gaze. “I mean it,” Bucky says, “I know how hard you been workin’ on this, thank you.”
Tony sputters, and then makes a couple nonsense noises while something uncurls warm and amazing in his chest. “No worries,” he finally manages and it’s both a relief and a disappointment when Bucky releases his wrist. “Making scopes is my jam. That’s better than the one I just put on Clint’s bow. Don’t tell him.”
“I’m gonna tell ‘im,” Bucky says instantly, smug and grinning and still just staring up at Tony, like he could possibly be more interesting than a digital scope. “I get the best stuff an’ I wanna make sure he knows it.”
“Whatever makes you happy, snowflake,” Tony says, face warm because oh god he’s so obvious, isn’t he? When he turns to enact a manly flee, Bucky lets him go and the sound of his soft, fond laugh follows Tony the rest of the day.
-
It kind of spirals out of control from there. Tony tells himself he doesn’t love it, but even he doesn’t believe himself anymore.
Bucky snatches the coffee cup out of Tony’s hand and replaces it with a glass of water before Tony can even begin to formulate a protest. For a long second all Tony can do is blink in stunned silence because how dare?!
Tony narrows his eyes in a glare, and apparently the twitching of his free hand gives him away because Bucky shifts to hold the mug way up above his head with that wide, gorgeous grin. Tony is pretty sure, if he tried hard enough, he could get that mug back, but it would probably end in both of them covered in water and/or hot coffee. And it would involve a lot of pressing himself against Bucky and attempting to climb him like a tree, which is... probably not a great plan.
So Tony chugs the water, glaring the whole time, and then Bucky hands back his coffee with a quiet “good.” Tony struggles to fight back his blush, can’t at all help the smile that takes over his face, and Bucky just smiles back before continuing on his way.
-
“JARVIS, please wake Bucky up just to inform him that I am pointedly not getting more coffee at three in the morning, and please do it as obnoxiously as possible,” Tony says as he stares into the depths of the fridge, “I’m thinking air sirens. Neon lights.”
There’s a soft, low chuckle from right behind him, and Tony has just enough time to freeze up, his eyes going wide. Then Bucky’s hand is in his once again messy hair, and Bucky’s low, sleep-rough voice is rumbling out “good boy.”
By the time Tony finds his own voice again Bucky has leaned in close against his back to swipe one of Clint’s juice boxes, patted him on the shoulder, and started for the door. “If I’m a good boy then where’s my cookie?” He calls after Bucky’s retreating back, tongue thick and heart racing.
“Good boys go t’ sleep,” Bucky calls back, pointedly, and Tony grumbles all the way to bed.
He sleeps like a fucking baby, wakes up still feeling warm and happy and flushed.
-
"I don't need a brain scan," Tony insists. Again. “My brain is fine. It’s excellent. It is a stunning example of a human brain, ask anyone. Except Bruce, but he’s still just mad that I broke his favorite microscope.”
Bucky continues to stare him down, then lifts his shiny metal hand. "How many fingers am I holdin’ up?" He demands, and Tony would be insulted if he wasn’t having such a hard time focusing.
Tony stares at his hand, counting carefully. "Three," he finally declares, with full confidence.
"That took entirely too long!" Bucky says, dropping his hand again even though it looks like what he really wants to do is just throw both hands in the air and yeah, Tony gets that a lot. "You have a knot the size of a fuckin’ golf ball an’ no offense, but it’s ruinin’ your pretty face. Go get th’ damn scan!"
Tony taps his screwdriver against his chin, eyes on the ceiling, and decides he should probably wait to freak out about the ‘pretty face’ comment later, alone. So for now he turns a sunny smile on Bucky, pointing his screwdriver, and says "no.”
"Please, doll? Do it for me?" Bucky asks, completely shifting tactics, and he even has the gall to pout at Tony. With his blue eyes and red lips. The nerve of it.
Tony holds firm. For about five seconds. "Fine," he sighs, dropping the screwdriver to the table so he can throw both hands in the air himself.
Bucky smiles at him, warm and relieved and something that Tony almost wants to call thankful and Tony has to drop his chin because he can’t deal with that face.
Moving his head so suddenly kind of makes the room spin, and Bucky ends up having to carry him to the medical wing. Bucky also lectures him the whole time, but his hands are so gentle and he stays for the entire thing and Tony finds that he only minds the lectures a little.
-
Tony wakes up from a nap he definitely hadn’t intended to take, still sprawled out on the couch in the common room with Bucky’s fingers still running through his hair. He has no idea how much time has passed but the TV is off and the windows are dark. He appears to have stolen Sam’s blanket, at some point.
He twists his head, still resting on Bucky’s thigh, to fix Bucky with a baleful look and says “I thought I told you I didn’t need a nap.”
“‘S not like I made you fall asleep,” Bucky says, smiling innocently even though he basically did, with his stupid magic hands. Then Bucky’s grin turns into a smirk, voice low as he adds “but don’t you feel better now?”
Tony pouts harder, because he does, and Bucky laughs, continues petting his head until Tony falls right back to sleep.
-
“You do not want me helping you cook,” Tony says with a sputtering laugh, but he steps further into the kitchen anyways, because whatever Bucky is cooking smells amazing. And because it’s Bucky. “I can’t believe you’d ask me to come help you cook. Did JARVIS not tell you how much of a terrible idea that is?”
“Just be good an’ get over here,” Bucky says, and he doesn’t look up from stirring whatever’s in the giant pot but Tony can hear him rolling his eyes.
“I will be no help,” Tony assures him, but steps up to the stove anyways, trying to peek over the rim of the pot. “Is that tomato sauce? Please say yes, and then please don’t let me ruin it.”
Bucky lets out a huff of laughter and turns towards him, wooden spoon outheld, and says “c’mon doll I need a taste tester.” When Tony just blinks at him, Bucky wiggles the spoon a little and says “open up, sweet thing.”
Tony does his best to ignore what that particular choice of words does to him, instead making a big show of checking the spoon for signs of poison or sabotage, humming suspiciously until Bucky gives an impatient huff. Only then does Tony give in, leaning in just a little more to drag his tongue up the flat back of the wooden spoon and then groans happily, because holy shit that is some good sauce. He opens his eyes to tell Bucky so, not sure when they fell closed in the first place, only to find Bucky watching him with an intensity that has Tony’s breath catching in his throat.
“Good?” Bucky asks, like he doesn't already know the answer, and when Tony nods emphatically he grins. “See,” he says, voice suddenly gone low and deep, not looking away from Tony even as he returns to stirring the pot, “you can be good an’ helpful, knew you could babydoll.”
Bucky finally turns back to the stove, just in the nick of time because there’s not a damn thing Tony can do about the warmth spreading across his cheeks, unfurling in his chest. “Yes, very helpful,” Tony says with a dry laugh, “what would you do without me here to lick things?”
Bucky’s eyes flick over to him, lids lowered in a way that is giving Tony ideas, and his lips quirk up and as he says “have to lick things myself I guess, an’ where’s the fun in that?” Tony barks out a startled laugh, face heating, and Bucky grins down at the pot. “Gonna stay and eat with me, right?” He asks pointedly, like he’s just daring Tony to say no.
Tony pretends like he actually has to think about it, making considering noises and dragging his eyes away from the smug curve of Bucky’s lips. “Do I get a treat afterwards?” He asks obnoxiously, giving Bucky a little nudge with his elbow.
“Mmhmm,” Bucky hums, gaze shifting over to him again. Tony can feel his pulse in his fingertips in the best possible way and he has to bite his lip so he won’t start blurting out suggestions. Bucky’s eyes flick down, just for a second, and then he says “go get some plates.”
So they eat dinner, and Bucky demands to know all of Tony’s greatest cooking disasters and yeah he laughs his ass off but he also keeps giving Tony these wide, warm smiles, and Tony finds that he really doesn’t mind. He’d tell Bucky every embarrassing thing he’s ever done if he gets to hear that laugh. And he’s done a lot.
When Tony starts shoving his empty plate across the table, knocking it into Bucky’s obnoxiously, Bucky just laughs and goes to rummage around in the pantry. Which is a foolish move, because now Tony knows his secret sweets stash is in fact somewhere in the pantry. Which is more than anyone else knows.
Bucky returns with a chocolate and peanut butter cookie roughly half the size of Tony’s face, and then watches him eat it with an unfairly intense stare. Bucky barely glances down at his own plate as he devours a second, and then a third helping of food, just watches Tony eat the cookie that he’s starting to suspect Bucky has been saving just for him. Like there’s nothing he’d rather be doing in the world, nothing more interesting than watching Tony make a mess of himself with baked goods, licking smears of chocolate off his fingers.
The heat in Tony’s gut is battling for attention with the warmth in his chest, and he can’t do much more than stare back. He barely even remembers the walk to the elevator after Bucky firmly suggests he should get some sleep once in a while, the weight of Bucky’s eyes on his shoulders all the way down the hallway.
He falls asleep thinking the word ‘ravenous’ and wakes up panting, stuck to his sheets and aching.
-
Bucky walks into the room, and Tony switches from eating his breakfast like a normal, rational person, to eating it pointedly, fork scraping across his plate, loud chewing, the works.
Bucky just smiles, big and genuine, says “look at you, feedin’ yourself, I’m so proud,” like he really means it. Tony swallows thickly, heart thundering in his chest and an addictive warmth spreading through him. That still doesn’t mean he lets Bucky get away with trying to steal his bacon, though.
And okay yeah, Tony feels a little bad, if he stops to let himself think about it. Feels like a bit of a creep, but only a little. Because it’s not like Bucky knows that every tiny nice thing he says goes straight to Tony’s head. And his heart. And also a little bit to his dick. Just like Bucky doesn’t know that Tony has had a big useless crush on him for like a year now and really, what’s one more secret?
And besides, unless Tony is actually as out-of-touch as some people like to accuse him of being, it almost seems like Bucky is happier too. Like for some reason he actually likes keeping Tony alive and functional, and really, who would Tony be if he took that away? If Bucky gets some sense of accomplishment out of forcing Tony to get three square meals and eight-ish hours of sleep, then who is Tony to deny him?
It’s just one more tiny little secret.
-
Tony barely manages not to audibly sigh in relief as the reporter who’s been hounding him gets distracted by some kind of commotion over by the catering table and hurries away, lest he miss the story. Tony’s smile doesn’t slip, because he’s a pro, but it’s difficult. Tony loves his mother’s charity, he really does, it’s the only gala he doesn’t have to be convinced to go to, but he really wishes people wouldn’t ruin it by insisting on asking about Howard.
If Tony has to grit his teeth one more time and say that Howard was a ‘great man’ (debatable) or that he ‘always supported Maria in her causes’ (outright lie), then he’s going to snap and do something drastic. Like go raid the entire bar. Or cry.
“You don’t have t’ put up with that,” comes a voice from right beside him, and Tony jumps hard even though he’d know that voice anywhere. Apparently, Tony is even more tense than he’d realized, and the concerned look on Bucky’s face means he’s probably noticed too.
“I’m going to put a bell on you, almost gave me a heart attack,” Tony grumbles, clutching one hand to his chest and hoping like hell that they can just not talk about it.
Bucky hums thoughtfully, then grins and says “Sneakin’ with a bell, sounds like a fun challenge.”
“That is not the point of the bell,” Tony says seriously, pointing at him, and not letting his eyes drag down the line of Bucky’s body, no matter how much he wants to. No matter how good Bucky’s legs look in a well-fitted suit.
“I mean it,” Bucky says, smiling dimming a little, and so much for Tony’s attempts to deflect, “you know you don’t have to put up with that, right?”
“What?” Tony asks blankly, even though he doesn’t know why he bothers, he never gets away with playing dumb. Sure enough, Bucky fixes him with a flat look until Tony sighs and says “Yes, I kind of do.”
“No,” Bucky says, so firm and urgent that Tony is a little taken aback, catching Tony gently by the elbow when he tries to turn, tries to look for a distraction. “Maybe you have to be here, an’ maybe you have to play nice, but you don’t have t’ answer anythin’ you don’t wanna. And you especially don’ have to talk about him.”
Tony doesn’t know what he feels at this point, some mix of frozen and warm and fuzzy, flushed hot while ice runs through his veins, and he kind of can’t believe that Bucky has been watching him that closely-
“I don’t?” He asks and hates how weak his voice comes out, how unsure, but he’s been talking up Howard at these stupid things for as long as he can remember, it’s second nature, and no one has ever told him that he doesn’t have to in his his entire life-
“No, Tony,” Bucky says and his voice has gone soft too, rough and a little sad and he smiles crookedly as he adds “jus’ tell ‘em to fuck off if they keep tryin’.”
“Well I definitely can’t do that,” Tony huffs. Bucky’s fingers are still holding him so gently, thumb dragging over the inside of his elbow, making Tony shiver just as much as holding him standing.
“You’ll figure it out,” Bucky says, smiling a little wider again and tapping his thumb against Tony’s pulse through his sleeve, “you got that way with words, sweet talker, ‘m sure you’ll come up with somethin’.”
“You’re the sweet talker,” Tony grumbles, and Bucky laughs softly.
Not even half an hour later the same damn reporter corners him as he steps off the stage after his speech, asking the same damn questions, and Tony hesitates. Then he decides fuck it, throws out all his prepared responses, slaps on his sharpest smile and bites out “I’m not going to talk about that anymore.”
The reporter actually looks a little thrown for a second, then visibly steels his nerve and says “People just want to know what it was like growing up with-“
“No,” Tony says, smiling wider, sharper, “I’ve already answered that question what must be a million times by now, how about you go dig up one of those stories and republish that. I’m sure it’ll be better written that way, anyways.” The reporter is still sputtering as Tony turns and walks away, slips into a side hallway to pat himself on the back and maybe panic-breathe, just a little.
He’s barely slumped back against the wall before Bucky is right in front of him, breathing out “Oh, Tony.”
“Seriously, a bell, a big one,” Tony repeats, smile only a little wobbly as he drags his eyes up to meet Bucky’s, and then can’t help blurting out “Did I- was that... okay?”
“Perfect,” Bucky says instantly, jolting forward and then stopping, like he’d been about to pull Tony in for a hug before thinking better of it. Which is too bad, Tony could really go for a hug right now but it’s almost just as good when Bucky says “That was perfect, you did so good sweet thing, don’t you feel better now?”
“Yes,” Tony says with a heavy sigh, not even realizing how much he means it until all the tension bleeds out of him and before he can stop himself Tony is leaning forward to thump his forehead against Bucky’s chest, letting his eyes fall closed and breathing in the comforting, earthy smell of Bucky’s cologne. He just can’t take the warmth and open pride in Bucky’s gaze anymore, not without running the very serious risk of turning to a useless puddle of mush.
Of course, then Bucky’s right hand lands warm and gentle on the back of Tony’s head, wide palm cradling his skull easily and thumb stroking down the line of his neck, the other hand curled around Tony’s shoulder and pulling him a little closer. “So proud’a you, Tony, did so good, knew you could do it doll,” Bucky says softly, speaking directly against the top of Tony’s head while his fingers slide through Tony’s hair.
“I’ve told off reporters before,” Tony huffs, even though he doesn’t know why he bothers, Bucky apparently sees right through him, “I do it all the time. Did you miss when I snapped at one of them during that last press conference and Steve gave me disappointed face?”
Bucky just hums, taps his metal fingers against the curve of Tony’s shoulder blade. “Yeah,” he finally says, voice barely more than a breath, “For everyone else. Always makin’ sure the rest of th’ team never has to talk about anythin’ they don’t want to the press. Never cut yourself any slack like that, though, do ya?”
Tony’s breath catches in his throat, and how does Bucky do that?! He has no response, no idea what to say, absolutely never expected to be called out. Not on this. When Bucky makes a soft, expectant sound, like he’s actually waiting for an answer, all Tony can do is shake his head a little, careful not to accidentally dislodge Bucky’s hold on him.
“You’re worth it too, ya hear me?” Bucky asks, his hold on Tony tightening ever so slightly, one finger tap tap tapping at the back of Tony’s head until Tony finally huffs and nods. “Good boy,” Bucky says, still so softly, and if he notices the way Tony all but melts against him, at least he doesn’t say anything about it.
-
Tony shuffles down the hallway, frowning at his phone and glancing up every now and then just to make sure he’s not about to run into anyone. Considering he lives in a tower full of spies, soldiers, and other assorted superheroes, they all have surprisingly terrible situational awareness sometimes. And sure, it’s heartwarming that they can all let their guard down, at least a little, but he’s also a little tired of people tripping and breaking things because Thor likes to nap in hallways.
When he glances up and spots Bucky in his path, he steps to the side and barely has time for a “Hey frosty, Clint was looking for you. He was also holding a water gun, so I’d be careful.” After a quick grin Tony returns to squinting at his phone, and therefore does not see it coming at all when Bucky gently grabs his elbow and halts him in his tracks.
“Hey, you okay?” Bucky asks, an adorable little concerned wrinkle between his eyebrows. He also lets go of Tony’s arm, which is a shame.
Tony blinks, then glances down at himself. He’s not sure what gave Bucky the impression that something is wrong, if it was the stained and hole-littered jeans, the wrinkled shirt, or the fact that Tony apparently lost one of his socks somewhere. Huh.
“Yeah, fine,” Tony says and waves his phone a little, “just got a lot to do. You know how it is. Every day I receive emails, so on and so forth.”
“You got a headache?” Bucky asks, randomly, even though Tony does. It’s pounding right behind his eyes, and all along his temple, and throbbing in time with his heartbeat. All in all, it’s a high quality headache.
“No,” Tony says anyways, because he has things to do, and Bucky is making ‘go take a nap’ face at him. It’s a very specific face. “My head feels awesome, better than awesome, I gotta get down to the lab, so, you better be getting on with your water gun fight. Watch the furniture.”
Tony tries to step away again, before Bucky can guilt him into not working, but Bucky snaps a hand out and catches him by the belt loop on his hip. It’s everything Tony can do not to swallow his tongue.
“What you gotta do is take a break,” Bucky says firmly, and Tony is opening his mouth to ask if that means he’s invited to the water gun fight, but Bucky apparently sees it coming and cuts him off. “Go take a nap, Tony.”
“I don’t want a nap,” Tony whines petulantly and braces his bare foot against the ground, leans against Bucky’s hold and trusts him not to actually let go as Tony pouts at him.
“Then at least go lay down,” Bucky says, heartlessly. When Tony just pouts at him harder Bucky rolls his eyes with a soft huff and says “Do it an’ I’ll bring you somethin’ to drink.” When Tony opens his mouth Bucky immediately adds “not coffee.”
Tony gasps in horror, but Bucky remains unswayed. “Fine, hot chocolate,” he demands, leaning a little harder despite the way his worn jeans are gaping at the waist and more than likely to rip at any second.
Bucky considers, eyes dragging down Tony’s chest and probably counting the grease stains on his shirt, and finally says “Water an’ then hot chocolate.”
“Fine, I will go to my room and await my beverage delivery,” Tony says, already running mental calculations on exactly how long he has to run to the lab and grab his tablet then stash it somewhere before Bucky catches him.
“You goin’ straight to your room?” Bucky asks, one eyebrow raised, and damnit how does he do that?! Tony is seriously considering
Tony groans, then gives what Rhodey has assured him is the worst salute humanly possible as he says “Sir yes sir, Sargent Tastee-Freeze.”
Bucky grins with lots of teeth and tugs at Tony’s belt loop to pull him back upright again as he says “Good boy.”
Tony goes straight to his room, and Bucky’s smile when he finds Tony already curled up under a blanket with the lights in the room down low is totally worth it. The amazing hot chocolate is just a bonus.
-
“Tony,” Bucky says, voice frantic, “Tony, you gotta stay awake.”
“Hurts,” Tony complains, just in case Bucky hasn’t noticed that he’s bleeding out here. And he’s supposed to be the observant one.
“I know, I know it does,” Bucky says and his fingers are shaking as he brushes Tony’s hair off of his forehead. His other hand is incredibly steady as it presses a crumpled jacket to Tony’s bleeding stomach, making him groan pitifully. “You gotta stay awake for me, doll, jus’ stay awake.”
“Wanna sleep,” Tony says petulantly, because that sounds way better than being awake for all this agony. His eyelids are already fluttering shut and he’s not worried about the asshole that shot him, if Bucky is here then there’s nothing to worry about. Tony is pretty sure Natasha was around here too somewhere, but it’s surprisingly hard to remember.
“No no no, wake up,” Bucky says, voice cracking, and maybe there is something to worry about, if Bucky sounds that upset. Tony wonders what it is. “C’mon, wake up for me sweetheart, be a good boy and just- jus’ open your eyes.”
“Good?” Tony slurs out and cracks one eye open, just enough to see that Bucky’s face is wet and if Tony didn’t know better he’d think Bucky was crying.
“Yeah Tony,” Bucky says with a smile that’s entirely too shaky, sounding entirely too desperate, “jus’ be good and stay awake for me, give you all the fuckin’ cookies you want, give you anything.” His hand is on Tony’s cheek again, fingers so warm, and when Tony’s eyes start to fall closed again Bucky gives him the slightest of shakes and says “Hey, hey, c’mon doll, don’t you got some demands for me? Gotta stay awake to tell me what you want, baby.”
“Wanna be good,” Tony manages to croak out, struggling to get his stubborn eyes to open and actually focus. He almost wishes he hadn’t, because there’s something horribly stricken about Bucky’s expression, something startled and scared and it drags a pained noise out of Tony’s chest that has nothing to do with the blood pooling below him.
“Yeah?” Bucky asks after a pause and he’s shaking all over now, everywhere but his metal hand still pressed firm and agonizing over the bullet holes in Tony’s stomach. “Wanna be good for me, you gotta stay awake until the paramedics get here, can you do that sweet thing?”
“Gross, hate them,” Tony says, and Bucky’s laugh sounds more like a choked sob. Tony flails one hand up until he can grab weakly at Bucky’s shirt. “‘Kay, stayin’ awake,” he says and decides to not mention that he can taste blood with each word, instead tugging at Bucky’s shirt a little as he slurs out “just cuz y’re a worrier.”
“That’s real sweet of ya, darlin’,” Bucky says and at least his laugh sounds a little less ragged, a little less like it’s being dragged out of him.
Everything goes a little fuzzy after that, but Tony doesn’t let go of his grip on Bucky’s shirt until the EMTs start heartlessly cutting into his nice suit. Bucky doesn’t let go for even longer.
-
Tony did something wrong. He doesn't know what, but he knows he did something. Which is just, Classic Tony.
Except he does know, he knows exactly what he did and the knowledge sits in his stomach like a weight. He made it weird. He hasn't seen Bucky since he woke up in the hospital. Not really. Because Tony made it weird.
He’s not even sure what he did, exactly, except possibly everything. He’s got this huge sad crush on Bucky, sure, but he’s had that for ages now, and Tony is dealing with it. He’s dealing with it fine. And okay sure, maybe Tony has been acting like a bit of a creep about it, lately, getting all warm and fuzzy and tingly anytime Bucky does something nice for him. Which Bucky does all the time, because he’s a nice person.
And now Tony has scared him off, somehow, between bleeding out mid-press conference and being discharged from the hospital. Painkiller-Tony probably said something to give himself away, that loopy bastard has no filter.
But Tony tells himself it’s fine. It’s fine. Maybe he’ll finally get over this stupid, useless crush now. It’s not like he feels cold and lonely without Bucky’s constant hovering, or anything. It’s not like the fact that Bucky will barely look at him hurts more than the multiple lines of stitches in his stomach, or anything.
It’s fine.
-
He shuffles slow and careful into the kitchen at stupid-o-clock in the morning, after his second (third?) night without sleep, and there’s no super soldier laying in wait to snatch away his coffee. And force feed him an obscene stack of pancakes. And bitch at him for not sleeping enough when he’s technically still recovering from his unintended run-in with multiple bullets.
The best he gets is Natasha telling him he looks like a zombie and throwing an apple at his head, which really just doesn’t have the same charm. Even if she does do it gently, while giving him concerned eyes.
So Tony gets his coffee, takes his apple, goes back to the lab and wakes up later that day with everything aching because he passed out sprawled across a worktable again. His back is sore and he’s hungry and his stitches burn from being hunched over for hours.
But it’s fine. Tony is fine, he’s an adult, he’s been barely-taking-care-of himself for years. It’s fine.
-
Bucky is still around, is the thing, he still cracks dry jokes at Steve’s expense and hoards all the blankets on movie nights.
He still wanders down to the lab to play with the bots, but it’s not as often. Not that Tony has made charts, or anything, just to prove to himself that it’s not all in his head. He brings down plates of food, also less often, and doesn’t stick around to make sure Tony eats them. Tony never plans to, plans to shove the food away for a proper pout, but after the third time he finds himself finishing off the plate and halfway through texting Bucky about it before realizing better, Tony gives up. He switches to just eating as soon as Bucky leaves the lab, and he doesn’t even have to lie to himself that it’s just a different form of pouting.
When Tony tracks him down to hand over some new body armor, Bucky still thanks him with entirely too much sincerity, like he still doesn’t realize that this is just what Tony does. It still makes Tony’s heart lurch and his stomach swoop and his face heat, but when Tony goes to run away because he still doesn’t know how to deal with that, Bucky doesn’t stop him.
Bucky still watches his back in every fight and suggests weird sci-fi books, still leaves leftovers with Tony’s name on them in the fridge just like he always has. Tony still has his friend, is the thing, and when he tells himself that’s all he’d ever expected it’s not even a lie.
-
JARVIS is the one to gently remind him when it’s time to have his stitches removed, Tony is nearly overwhelmed by the sudden urge to cry. Because he can’t remember the last time Bucky wasn’t the one dragging him down to medical for boring things like follow up appointments, bribing him with baked goods and smiling all the while.
Tony is tempted to just remove them himself, he’s so tempted. Because it’s not like he can’t, it’s what he used to do before Bucky started his whole ‘aggressive mother hen’ routine. He even has the tiny scissors in hand, sterilized and everything, but he can’t stop picturing that sad little twist to Bucky’s lips, the way his eyes go wet and pained when he catches Tony doing his own first aid. And Tony can’t even lie to himself that Bucky doesn’t care anymore, because they’re still friends, it’s not like Tony can exactly blame him for needing space now that he almost definitely knows Tony has feelings.
Eventually Tony throws down the scissors so aggressively that DUM-E makes concerned beeping noises at him, and he definitely gets some weird looks when he stomps into medical grumpy and painfully alone. No one asks any questions about it though, about the sudden Bucky-shaped hole in his side, and Tony wonders just how miserable he must look.
-
He nearly runs straight into Bucky in the hallway at something-past-midnight, and it’s all Tony can do to not spill his extra large mug of coffee all over both of them.
“You give me one more heart attack and I’m actually putting that bell on you,” Tony threatens, clutching his mug close to his chest even though odds are pretty good Bucky isn’t going to try and take it from him anymore.
Sure enough, Bucky only makes sad-eyes at his coffee for about two seconds, then drags his eyes up to Tony’s face and says “Just make sure they sound extra Christmas-y, to fit with my whole ‘winter’ vibe.”
Tony laughs and tells himself that this is fine. He still has a friend, still gets to enjoy Bucky’s weird sense of humor, still gets to see him around in the common rooms and that’s plenty, it’s fine. He almost manages to believe it. “Christmas anti-stealth bells, your wish is my command,” Tony says, nodding seriously. And then he raises his coffee to his lips and takes an obnoxiously loud sip, doesn’t know why he does it except that he absolutely does, stupidly trying to bait Bucky into snatching it away from him, insisting Tony take it easy, get some sleep some time this week, something.
All Bucky does is make sadder-eyes at him, which is not what Tony had been going for now he feels terrible. Bucky opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, then shuts it again, and honestly that’s worse than the way Tony’s stomach still throbs dully anytime he laughs, it’s an aching hurt that settles deep in his chest and makes it hard to breathe.
“Well, I better get on it,” Tony says and takes a shuffling step back because he doesn't know what else to do, he doesn’t know how to fix this. He’s tried to stop having this big stupid crush, fuck has he tried, but he can’t. It just gets worse and Tony is starting to think he’s never getting over it, just one more chronic ache he’ll never shake.
Tony needs to go, he needs to get out of here and go put himself back together so he can stop doing this to himself. But when he turns too quickly it sends a sharp pain lancing through his gut and Tony can’t quite stop the hiss that slips out of him. He doesn’t stop moving though, just pushes through and keeps his steps as carefully measured as he can, even when Bucky makes a soft, wounded noise that sounds like he’s trying to swallow it down.
Bucky doesn’t actually say anything though, and soon enough Tony is alone in his room holding a mug of coffee he’s just now realizing he doesn’t even want. He dumps it out in the sink, crawls into bed for another good pout and ends up falling asleep for eight hours.
-
So Tony keeps feeding himself and getting a good night’s sleep every so often. He even waits until he’s officially cleared by the doctors to start demanding to be let back into the field and he drinks the occasional glass of water. He keeps doing all those things even after he stops hoping Bucky will ruffle his hair and call him a ‘good boy’ in that tone that’s somehow the perfect mix of fond and amused and bossy and maybe just a little condescending.
Because they’re still friends, and Tony doesn’t want to ruin that too. He doesn't want to keep making Bucky make sad-eyes at him across the lab when he catches Tony chewing on coffee beans to keep himself awake, holding a half-melted ice pack to his face and squinting at his screens.
So maybe Tony has a big sad crush, and maybe Bucky figured that out somehow. Probably the fact that Tony got inappropriately tingly when Bucky treated him like a particularly stupid house pet, because Bucky has completely stopped. Tony is not letting himself think about how much he misses it, because that’s not the point.
The point is that they’re friends, and if it makes Bucky sad when his friends can’t take basic human care of themselves, well the least Tony can do is try to do better. It was just a lot easier when he could look forward to Bucky patting his head and calling him ‘good’ in that way that sent heat spiraling through Tony’s entire body.
But whatever. Tony manages.
-
“We should order pizza,” Tony announces, marching into the common room and nearly shouting to be heard over what appears to be half the team heckling a baking show.
“Are you trying to start another screaming match?” Steve demands, giving him a horrified look, “this tower cannot agree on pizza toppings, we’ve learned this.”
“I’ll just order everyone their own, no screaming, no problem,” Tony says dismissively, “I just finished with an all-day meeting that could have lasted an hour tops and I’m starving and the only thing that can make it better is pizza.” He ends his declaration with a whine and a little stomp of his foot, and tells himself that the sound of Bucky’s quiet laugh doesn’t make his chest warm. He needs to get better at lying to himself.
“But then I still have to see the abomination Clint calls a pizza, and how am I supposed to eat like that?” Sam demands, shooting a look at Clint who’s already half on-top of his arm chair and drawing in a huge breath to no doubt shout his rebuttal.
“I’m still going to do it,” Tony says gleefully, drowned out by the onslaught of yelling and already pulling out his phone.
“Are you happy now?” Steve demands as Sam and Clint start whipping throw pillows across the room at each other while Bucky laughs, egging them on and tossing Clint more ammo.
And yeah, Tony kind of is.
-
Someone walks into the workshop and Tony’s head snaps up, but it’s just Clint. Tony is not disappointed.
“Stop giving me that look,” Clint says, pointing one finger at Tony’s face. “Bucky wanted me to come down here and remind you to go to medical. He also told me not to tell you he told me to, but I’ve conveniently forgotten that part.”
“Convenient for who?” Tony asks with a huff of laughter, and ignores the way it makes his stupid heart feel all warm that Bucky still worries, at least, even if he doesn’t actually want to come down and face Tony’s crush himself. It’s still something.
Clint ignores him in favor of poking at the things scattered across the worktables, never mind that most of it is weaponry of some kind, and when Tony throws a screwdriver at him Clint spins around with an unimpressed look. “What’s up with you two, anyways? You’re being weirder than normal,” he demands, throwing the screwdriver back.
“Go tell him I’ve already been,” Tony says, barely managing to catch the tool before it hits him in the face, “my stomach is fine, they just taped up my ribs and gave me a tetanus shot. Tetanus!” And no, for the record, Tony had not spent the entire time thinking about how Bucky probably would have let Tony hold his hand, if he’d been there.
“Go tell him yourself, you incredible idiot,” Clint says, and then starts poking at dangerous things until Tony kicks him out of the lab.
-
“Why are you up before noon and looking like you actually slept?” Video-call-Rhodey demands, narrowing his eyes suspiciously, “who are you and what have you done with Tony?”
“Fuck you, platypus,” Tony says pleasantly, “that’s hurtful, I know how to adult.” The look Rhodey fixes him with in return is so unimpressed Tony’s can feel it in his soul, even through the screen.
“I have known you for years,” Rhodey says slowly, “and I can emphatically say that no, you do not, and- Are you drinking water?”
“What? No,” Tony says, lowering his glass of water back out of frame. Rhodey continues to stare him down, and Tony just stares back, because there is no way they’re getting into this. Tony wouldn’t even know where to start, at this point.
He passes Bucky as he turns the corner towards the elevator, and Tony really wishes he had the time to ask what Bucky is grinning so wide about. As it is he has a meeting with Pepper to get to and best-friend-questions to avoid.
-
“You know what Steve,” Tony snaps, because he can’t take it anymore. He’s exhausted, he’s sore, he has a ton of work to do and he’s tired of being yelled at for shit that’s not his fault. He’s also tired of the sad look Bucky is giving him, like he thinks Tony can’t see him, like he thinks Tony doesn’t know that he doesn’t deserve this.
Steve actually falters, words trailing off as he blinks at Tony because yeah, Tony usually calls him ‘Rogers’ when he’s pissed, or at least ‘Cap’. And yeah it’s one of Tony’s favorite ways of distancing himself, what of it? He can feel Bucky’s stare like a physical weight on his chest, he’s frustrated enough with himself as it is, and Tony doesn’t want distance.
“I’m not a magician, okay,” Tony grits out, doesn’t snap it, keeps his voice even and clenches his fists to keep them from shaking, “hacking an encrypted system takes time, and it takes processing power. Processing power that is limited when I’m also using it to pilot the armor, so yeah, I hacked it as quick as I could, and if that’s not good enough then I don’t know what to tell you.”
Steve gapes at him for a second, eyes wide and mouth hanging open and Tony really wishes he could feel better about accomplishing that right now. “Oh,” Steve finally says, and Tony can’t help but notice that the debrief room has suddenly cleared out around them. “I- I didn’t-“
This is usually the part where Tony would jump on that moment of hesitation, tack on a couple barbs to easily push Steve from thrown-off to angry. It’s surprisingly easy, Tony has practically made an art form out of it. Because Tony is so much better at knowing what to do with people when they’re mad at him. But right now, Tony is tired, and he really needs a shower, and he really needs to get down to the lab and figure out how to up the power in the suit, make sure he doesn’t get caught unprepared again.
And yeah, Tony can still feel Bucky staring at him, and Tony doesn’t know how much longer he can stand it without breaking down and doing something ridiculous. Like demanding a hug. Or to have his head patted, or for reassurance that he did okay. And Tony doesn’t get that anymore, never should have had it in the first place, so he just turns and leaves.
Tony has nearly made his escape, and he’s managing to keep it together, right up until he catches sight of Buck’s face. Tony has spent a lot of time cataloging away all of Bucky’s expressions, telling himself the entire time that he’s not a creepy obsessed weirdo, and he’s never seen that face before. Some mix of happy and surprised and proud, and a hundred other things that Tony still hasn’t been able to figure out how to deal with. Seeing it less often apparently doesn’t stop Tony’s heart from lurching dangerously at the sight of that warm smile, doesn’t stop his stomach from working itself into a tight, heated knot.
No one follows after him, and after turning a couple corners blindly Tony finally lets himself slump back against a wall, just for a second. Just to try and catch his breath, try to fight down the warmth rising stubbornly in his chest.
-
Tony likes doing his test flights of the suits around dusk, when he can help it. He likes watching night fall over the city, likes watching the colors of the sunset give way to the bright lights that come to life in every window.
When he finally heads back for the tower he aims for the roof, figuring he’ll have the suit drop him off and then take itself down to the workshop to start running diagnostics on the new settings without him. It’ll take a while anyways, and Tony hasn’t had dinner yet. And for some reason, all of Tony’s friends seem weirdly invested in his eating habits and are weirdly thrilled when he remembers to do it. Tony is even doing a better job lately of convincing himself there’s not one friend in particular he’s trying to thrill.
Once the armor zips off towards the entrance on the workshop level the roof is dark, and Tony very nearly trips over Bucky on his way to the door. He makes an embarrassing squeaking noise but manages to keep his balance, only wincing a little as his toes throb because fuck what is Bucky’s shin made of?!
“Woah, shit, excellent lurking there, Frosty, truly A+ work,” Tony says, clutching at his chest, and he’s about to re-suggest his whole ‘put a bell on you’ plan when Bucky actually drags his eyes up from the ground to fix on Tony instead.
Bucky looks terrible. Which of course means he’s still one of the most gorgeous people Tony has ever seen, but the dark circles under his eyes hit Tony like a blow to the chest. Bucky’s hair is a mess, lines around his eyes deep and pronounced and he looks tired in a way that seeps straight down into your bones, eats you alive. Tony knows that feeling all too well, but he has no idea what to say in the face of it.
He doesn’t need to ask if Bucky is having a rough couple of days, it’s painfully obvious, and he knows Bucky isn’t going to talk about it if he doesn’t want to. And he very rarely wants to. It would certainly explain why Steve was looking for him yesterday, if Bucky has been hiding out avoiding everyone, which probably means that Bucky has been sitting out here on the roof for who knows how long and will continue sitting out here until he feels like a person again.
The fact that Bucky doesn’t say anything, doesn’t uncurl from his protective huddle against the wall, just stares up at Tony with shadowed eyes, means that he’s definitely not there yet. He barely even twitches when Tony’s stomach growls loudly, just raises one eyebrow slightly even though Tony is pretty sure that was loud enough for people down on the street to hear.
“I’m on my way right now!” Tony defends before Bucky can start making sad face at him, because that is probably the last thing Bucky needs right now, to be worrying that Tony is somehow going to starve to death without constant supervision. Bucky’s lip twitches in the barest hint of a smile, and Tony is absolutely going to count that as a win.
He’s about to leave, head inside and leave Bucky alone to his rooftop creeping, but then something occurs to him. If Bucky has been hiding out away from everyone, it stands to reason that he hasn’t been to the kitchen for food recently. There’s always someone in the kitchen. Tony hesitates for a second, and then decides fuck it. They’re friends, and fair is fair.
“Come on Snowflake,” he says firmly, no room for arguments, and holds out one hand for Bucky to take. “I’ll make you one of my specialties. Do you want a lumpy sandwich, or cold cereal?”
Bucky’s lips twitch ever so slightly further up as he takes Tony’s hand and pulls himself to his feet, and Tony is going to call that a resounding fucking victory.
-
Bucky loves sci-fi. Even worse, he loves cheesy, horrible sci-fi, and he gets a particular kick out of movies that are so inaccurate they send Bruce and sometimes even Tony into fits of rage.
It’s a serious problem, because Tony loves that Bucky loves shitty sci-fi. It’s hopelessly endearing, and Tony is pretty sure it’s only a matter of time before he full on breaks down crying at the entirely-too-adorable sight of Bucky on the couch amid a mountain of blankets, happily humming along to the Stargate Atlantis theme song. Tony is only human, okay? He’s just trying to head back to the lab with his lunch and there’s only so much he can reasonably be expected to withstand.
It’s also a problem in that Bucky tends to get caught up in binge watching something and forget about things like sleeping, or the ever important feeding his super appetite. Which Tony gets, he really does, he is no stranger to getting wrapped up in something and forgetting everything else, so instead of suggesting Bucky take a break from his marathon at least long enough to get food, Tony just shoves his own plate into Bucky’s lap and leaves his glass of water on the coffee table with a pointed look.
Then he heads back to the kitchen to make another sandwich for himself, waving off Bucky’s stuttered, surprised-sounding thanks and refusing to let himself look back.
It kind of spirals out of control from there.
-
Tony sticks his head into the gym where, sure enough, Bucky and Steve are still having their stupid push up competition.
“Let’s wrap it up boys, it’s dinner time,” he calls, and then rolls his eyes when they don’t react at all. “Seriously, you’re both impressive, you both win beefiest belle at the ball, you can punch it out later,” Tony adds as he wanders closer, “Let’s go before Thor eats everything and then comes down here to show you both up.”
“Five minutes,” Steve huffs out between push ups, “He’s about to give up.”
“Like hell,” Bucky grumbles and does his next rep one handed so he can swat at Steve. It’s unfairly distracting.
“I’m evicting both of you,” Tony says pleasantly, “Just like I threatened everyone else with eviction until they gave in and agreed to order from that Korean-Mexican fusion place you’re both so obsessed with.”
“What?!” Steve demands, pushing himself upright on his knees to fix Tony with an affronted look, “why didn’t you say that?”
“Ha! I win!” Bucky says, still doing push ups and grinning at Steve smugly.
Steve looks so horribly offended for a second that Tony can’t help snorting in laughter. Then Steve grins wickedly, shoves Bucky over, and makes a break for the door calling “I’m gonna eat all your food, then we’ll see who wins!”
“Still a sore loser,” Bucky says with a sad shake of his head, pushing himself to his feet. A couple strands of loose hair cling to his forehead and fall around his face, his thin shirt clinging to his chest just right, and Tony’s life would be so much easier if he could just not.
Bucky is staring at him, curious tilt to his head, and Tony belatedly remembers to blurt out “Don’t worry Frosted Flakes, I hid your kimchi tacos at the back of the fridge where no one can get to them. Not that I know why anyone would want to.” The wide grin that breaks out across Bucky’s face still makes Tony’s heart thump dangerously, no matter how many times Tony tries to convince himself that it doesn’t, that it won’t next time. It always does.
“Thanks Tony, you’re the best,” Bucky says, all warm and soft and genuine, bumping their shoulders together gently as he heads for the door. Tony trails after him, face flushed and chest warm, and that was totally worth all the trouble of convincing Bruce that Korean-Mexican fusion is not a crime against humanity.
-
“You need to go lay down,” Tony says for what must be the tenth time since Bucky walked into the lab.
“I’m fine,” Bucky says, again, despite the fact that he is clearly not fine.
Tony waves both hands at Bucky, trying to encompass all of him, the fact that Bucky hasn’t changed or showered since the fight when usually that’s the first thing he does, the way that he’s just kind of standing there letting the bots poke at him instead of chasing them around the lab. “I can hear your spine clicking when you move, and I have normal human ears!” Tony insists.
“No it’s not,” Bucky says, but he’s holding himself suspiciously still. When Tony just stares at him, unimpressed, he adds “it’ll heal.”
“Yeah, if you go lay the fuck down and avoid killing yourself before then,” Tony says, and only barely resists the urge to throw a bolt at him. He’s pretty sure Bucky would just let it hit him in the face right now, and that’s not what Tony is going for. No matter how well it would prove his point.
“No," Bucky says flatly. Tony throws the bolt, and Bucky winces when it bounces off his chest but otherwise refuses to move.
"Then you're going to medical," Tony says, throwing both hands in the air, "I’ll call Steve and he’ll carry you there, don’t think he won’t. He will be delighted to do it."
“I’ll throw ‘im out another window,” Bucky grumbles, and when Tony makes a show of grabbing for his phone Bucky sighs out “fine, fine, I’ll go lay down.”
"Damn straight you will," Tony grumbles under his breath and then blinks in surprise when, instead of heading for the door, maybe back to his room, Bucky slowly makes his way over to the lumpy couch in the corner.
And Tony's not complaining, it absolutely makes sense for Bucky to lay down on the nearest available flat surface, but Tony had really been expecting him to leave. Keep up that friendly distance, and all that. Instead Tony is left just staring dazedly as Bucky lowers him half down onto the couch with a level of care that completely gives away how injured he actually is.
Once Bucky is settled he turns his head where it's propped up on the armrest, only wincing a little, and stares back at Tony. There's something considering in his gaze, and he's probably trying to figure out how long it'll take before Tony gets distracted enough to not notice Bucky making his escape.
After several long seconds of mutual staring, broken only by them both glancing over when DUM-E gets tangled in the blanket he's trying to bring to Bucky and starts beeping in distress, Bucky finally breaks the silence. "Don't I get a cookie?" he asks slowly, innocently, like he has no idea that the reminder sets off an explosion in Tony's chest.
"I already gave you one of my favorite bolts, what more do you want from me?" Tony complains, turning back to his workbench so hopefully Bucky won't notice that his face has no doubt gone bright red.
"Somethin' edible, preferably," Bucky says with a soft laugh that has warmth spreading out from Tony's racing heart and mixing surprisingly well with the sudden influx of butterflies in his stomach.
Tony tells himself that it's fine. They're friends. He's glad that Bucky is comfortable enough to hang out in the lab with him again, making dumb jokes. All Tony has to do is not make it weird. Again. He can totally do that.
He doesn't have any cookies, but Tony does share his terrible energy bars, and when Bucky dares to complain about how terrible they are Tony throws a couple more bolts at him. Injured or not, he can't let that stand.
Eventually Bucky falls asleep, and Tony works as quietly as he can, and it's fine. It’s the closest to fine that Tony has felt in a long time.
-
Bucky’s nose scrunches up a little in disgust, but he doesn’t say anything. No one else seems to notice, arguing over their exact dinner order like it’s a life or death ordeal. They are all usually armed, in some way, so hell it might be life or death.
Tony slumps a little lower in his armchair, just enough that he can stretch out and kick Bucky lightly in the foot. When Bucky looks over at him Tony gives him an expectant look. When Bucky continues to stare blankly at him Tony does a little ‘go on’ motion with his head, and then kicks Bucky again. Just for good measure.
Bucky’s eyes widen, just a little, and then he blurts out “I hate sushi.” Everyone stops to stare at him, and Tony grins widely.
“What? Since when?” Sam demands, looking personally offended.
“Since always, it’s raw fish,” Bucky replies, throwing a pillow that bounces harmlessly off Thor’s head when Sam ducks. “Just get me some rice or somethin’, ‘s long as it’s cooked,” he adds and easily swats Sam’s return pillow away from him.
Steve immediately starts reading off other options from the menu, and Tony continues grinning all through the rest of the ordering process. He’s a little surprised when he looks over to find Bucky smiling back at him, something small and strangely delicate, and Tony just hopes his face isn’t as warm as it feels, hopes it doesn’t show that he’s melting inside.
-
Bucky has been giving him this look, lately, and Tony has no idea what it’s supposed to mean. It’s somewhere between surprised and considering, like he’s putting together the pieces of a puzzle he didn’t even know he was looking at. It’s mildly terrifying.
If he didn’t know better, Tony would think Bucky has figured out about his super secret crush, but that can’t be right. Bucky had already figured that out... right? And if that was the case he definitely wouldn’t suddenly be hanging out with Tony more, he’d be running even further away.
Tony is kind of tempted to avoid him, avoid that look entirely, because as long as he doesn’t know what it means it can’t mean anything bad. The problem with that plan, is that Bucky is suddenly everywhere he turns.
He stumbles out of his lab and it’s like Bucky is just laying in wait so he can drag Tony to the kitchen for an impressive lunch spread. And then he hangs out, watches while Tony gorges himself on soup and sandwiches and leftover donuts, and when Tony shoves the last donut towards him Bucky’s thoughtful little smile gets wider.
Tony doesn’t know what to do with that, or what to do with the warmth that lingers in his chest all day, growing something that feels dangerously like hope. Maybe he should give that avoidance plan another shot.
-
He makes it a full day. Mostly by hiding out in his lab the whole time. When he shuffles out, rubbing at his tired eyes and aching everywhere, Bucky is there before he makes it ten steps out of the elevator onto the common floor.
“What have I told you about sleeping?’ Bucky asks with an exasperated sigh that does not at all take away from the smile tugging at the corners of his lips, both hands coming down on Tony’s shoulders to stop him in his tracks. “And don’t say ‘it’s for the weak’, or I swear...”
Tony hums thoughtfully, then grins up at Bucky, who is standing so very close. If Tony were less sleep deprived he’d probably be more worried about that, more worries about what he’s giving away as he leans into Bucky’s chest ever so slightly. “Must have escaped my mind,” he finally says, grinning wider when Bucky rolls his eyes.
“I believe it was that you need to sleep, Tony,” Bucky says and uses the hands still on his shoulders to spin Tony in place and point him back towards the elevator. He leaves his hands on Tony’s shoulders, which is probably a good thing because Tony is dimly aware of the fact that he’s swaying in place. “Go on, before your zombie face scares Bruce again,” Bucky adds with a soft laugh.
“That was one time,” Tony protests, digging in his heels as Bucky starts pushing him towards the doors, “and I’m hungry.” The last part comes out nearly as a whine, and Tony doesn’t even try to stop it because this is all Bucky’s fault in the first place. Him and his regular meal schedules, and his insisting that Tony follow them.
“Nuh uh, I know how you are,” Bucky says, giving him another little shove towards the elevator, “you’ll go to the kitchen and then you’ll get distracted and I’ll find you five hours later half asleep and having a staring contest with your reflection.”
“Again, that was one time, and I had been up for days,” Tony says with a huff, then squeaks when the heels of his worn sneakers slip against the floor and Bucky’s grip on his shoulders is the only thing that keeps him from falling on his ass.
“Go get ready for bed, doll,” Bucky says and he’s definitely laughing now, “an’ I’ll bring you somethin’ to eat.”
“I want waffles,” Tony demands petulantly and finally stops leaning back against Bucky’s shoving, starts moving towards the elevator instead.
“Waffles, you got it,” Bucky says, all warm and amused, and his hands finally fall away from Tony’s shoulders. There’s a second where Tony starts to shuffle forward, elevator doors already dinging open, and he hears Bucky start to turn back down the hallway, and then Bucky’s hand lands on his head and Tony freezes in his tracks. He’s not even breathing, just holds himself perfectly still as Bucky ruffles his hair.
When Bucky steps away and his footsteps disappear down the hallway Tony is finally able to drag in a ragged breath and start his forward shuffle again. He spends the entire elevator ride thinking it’s a good thing he’s already half asleep, or he’d be really freaking out right now about what this all means.
Tony is slumped down low on his couch and poking at his phone when Bucky turns up with the promised waffles, but it’s totally worth the wait because the waffles are hot and fluffy and covered with the perfect amount of syrup. After Tony eats them all Bucky smiles at him warmly and says ‘good’, and what’s left of Tony’s poor batted soul feels like its been dipped in warm honey.
Tony doesn’t actually remember falling asleep, and he definitely doesn’t remember Bucky carrying him to bed, but he wakes up later curled under the blankets with his socks still on and oh look at that, he’s awake enough to start freaking out again.
Because Tony had been pretty sure he’d ruined everything, given himself away, and now everything is back to normal. Maybe even better. And Tony has no idea what to do. He doesn’t know what’s changed, and he doesn’t know how to not ruin it again.
-
Tony is heading for the gym, figuring he might as well accomplish something if he’s too angry to sleep at three in the morning. Sure, he’s exhausted, but maybe if he gets some of this energy out he’ll be able to sleep. And it won’t even be the first time someone has found him blissfully passed out on the gym floor in the morning.
He passes Bucky in the hallway, and it’s somehow both a surprise and not surprising at all when Bucky catches him by the forearm and pulls him to a stop. His eyes move over Tony’s face, and at least this is an expression Tony recognizes, it’s Bucky’s ‘figuring out why Tony can’t sleep’ face, and it’s a game Bucky is disturbingly good at. Even if it’s been awhile since he last played, not that Tony is letting himself think about that. Much.
“Hey freezy-pop, just heading to the gym,” Tony says and aims for an easy smile, but Bucky frowns at him and doesn’t let go. Not that Tony is actually trying to get free, that would mean losing the warmth of Bucky’s skin against his.
“People problem or math problem?” Bucky asks with a crooked little grin and Tony really hopes it doesn’t show how much it makes it heart leap that Bucky knows that.
“People problem,” Tony says before he’s even aware he’s going to say it, and then sighs as it feels like something tense inside him starts to unravel. “Huge people problem. The board is trying to slip some shady shit past me again, and I have to wait until morning to yell at them. Because I’m, and I quote, ‘not allowed to wake the old bastards up to yell at them’ any more. But I want to, I’m all riled up now and I want to bite some heads off.”
Bucky’s smile gets a little toothier and his gaze flickers down for just a second before he says “As much as I enjoy watchin’ you bite heads, prob’ly not a good idea. Might give ‘em a heart attack.”
“Which would be a bad thing, because...” Tony says and waves his hand in a ‘go on’ type motion.
“‘Cause then Pepper will kill you with her shoes,” Bucky says, very seriously, and damnit he’s right. Down to the exact threat Pepper had used, and Tony’s heart gives another little lurch.
“And that is a thing I do not want,” Tony recites with a sad little nod, and then grins when Bucky laughs. “So that’s why I’m going down to the gym. I’m going to imagine their wrinkled old faces on the punch bags. I figure hey, punching bag therapy works for Steve.”
“No it doesn’t,” Bucky says with a snort, then gives Tony’s arm a gentle little tug and says “c’mon, come watch Star Trek with me.”
“You think you can just distract me with Star Trek?” Tony demands, “because you can. What episode are you on now? Should I grab popcorn? What am I saying, of course I should grab popcorn, come on I need your hands.”
“How much popcorn you plannin’ on eating?” Bucky asks, but lets Tony start dragging him towards the kitchen with a smug little smile, like he’s getting exactly what he wanted.
Tony’s heart gives another little leap, and apparently this is his life now. If he dies tonight, it won’t be from an anger induced aneurism, it’ll be from choking on his own stupid heart just because Bucky is taking care of him again. Because Bucky is smiling at him all warm and fond and a little awed, like Tony is the one doing something amazing.
“Also, I love it when math problems keep me up, that’s the dream. The metaphorical dream, obviously,” Tony rattles as he drags Bucky along by way of Bucky’s hand still on his arm, just firm enough to not lose his grip, thumb stroking over the inner bend of Tony’s elbow as he lets out an amused hum.
Bucky doesn’t let go even as they settle onto the couch with their own bowls of popcorn, just shifts his grip down to Tony’s wrist instead, tap his finger against the wild flutter of Tony’s pulse in time with the opening theme. Tony shovels more popcorn into his mouth, mocks the questionable science until Bucky starts good-naturedly shoulder checking him, and doesn’t let himself think about the fact that Bucky’s hand on his wrist is leaching all the tension out of his body better than anything else ever has.
And Tony especially doesn’t let himself think about the fact that Bucky is giving him that look again. Like he’s solving some kind of riddle. Or maybe like he’s already solved it, and he’s just waiting for Tony to ask about the answer. But Tony is terrified to ask, because fuck he doesn’t want to be wrong. Even more terrifying, he’s starting to think he might not be.
-
Tony isn’t sure how Pepper convinced literally all of the Avengers to dress up to the nines and show up for the fanciest and most painful charity gala of the year. She even got Clint into a tux. Tony does know how she convinced him, at least, which was with threats to both his person and his cars. It was very effective.
Tony is still pondering the mystery as he heads for the common room to round up the rest of the unwilling ceremonial social sacrifices, and instead finds only Bucky struggling with his bow tie. “Either I’m late, or everyone else is extremely late,” Tony says and doesn’t even try to hide his wide grin as he watches Bucky nearly strangle himself.
“It’s both,” Bucky grumbles, yanking at the ends of the bow tie so aggressively Tony is a little surprised the poor thing doesn’t tear, “Some of ‘em were here, but then Bruce spilled his tea all over him an’ Clint, an’ Steve laughed so hard he ripped his shirt. So they all went to change. I think Nat left without us.” Bucky drops his hands to his side and scowls at this reflection in the mirror above the bar, at the lopsided bow hanging loose around his neck.
“That’s why she’s Pepper’s favorite,” Tony says, laughing as much at the story as the defeated slump of Bucky’s shoulders as he starts unknotting the bow tie again. Before Tony can think better of it he’s stepping closer and tugging at Bucky’s arm, all wrapped up in soft black fabric that somehow makes his arms look thicker. “Stop, stop, you’re killing the poor thing,” he says as he grabs for the tie with his free hand.
“Good,” Bucky says with a pout that has no right being so adorable on someone so lethal, “I dunno why it’s bein’ so difficult. I can do a tie no problem, but this?” He whips the bow tie off his neck and eagerly shoves it into Tony’s hand as he declares “bow ties are bullshit. Do you have a clip on around here?”
“Bite your tongue, you heathen,” Tony tells him seriously and forces himself to let go of Bucky’s arm, only dragging his fingers along Bucky’s firm bicep a little in the process. Then he takes a deep breath and steps forward a little closer, until they’re pressed practically chest to chest, and says “Here, let me help you with this before you somehow injure yourself with neckwear.”
“Please,” Bucky says with a heavy sigh, his hand brushing over Tony’s hip just for a second before falling to his side. “I swear I’ve tried fifty times now, you’re my only hope. You always clean up so nice an’ I’m just tryin’ not to make a fool of myself.”
Tony tries to ignore what that particular choice of words does to him. Later, he can work himself up into knots over the fact that Bucky thinks he cleans up nice, thinks he always cleans up nice, like Bucky has been thinking it for a while. But that’s for later, for now he just has to focus on getting this bow tie in place so they can all get over to the stupid gala and live through the stupid night. And then he can go back to his stupid panicked pining.
Focusing on the bow tie turns out to be a little difficult though, because all Tony wants to focus on is Bucky standing so incredibly close to him, the way Bucky is looking at him, eyes half lidded and chin tipped up to give Tony better access to his throat. His first attempt looks even worse, too tight and the bow lopsided, and Bucky barks out a laugh.
“Do you actually know what you’re doing?” Bucky demands, play-swatting at Tony’s stomach, “Are you wearing a clip on?”
“You take that back!” Tony squawks, swatting back at him before he starts aggressively undoing the bow tie again. He needs to get it together, because the longer this takes him the longer he’s standing all up in Bucky’s space, and the more of a blushing mess he’s going to become. And if Bucky hasn’t figured him out already, which is something Tony still can’t get a definite, undeniable read on, then Bucky definitely will now.
Especially because Bucky keeps his head tipped back and smiles lazily in a way that has Tony’s stomach clinging up tight as he asks “Are you trying to kill me, is that what’s happening here?”
“Yes dear,” Tony says, sickeningly sweet, and gives an extra hard tug at one end of the tie, “I’m trying to kill you with a bow tie. Slowly.” Bucky doesn’t say anything, but his smirk gets wider and wider and finally Tony huffs out “Turn around, I can’t work like this.”
“Sure, much easier to strangle me from behind,” Bucky says agreeably as he spins in place to face the mirror again, and his reflection fixes Tony with an expectant look.
Before he can talk himself out of it Tony steps forward and up onto his toes, hooks his chin over Bucky’s shoulder to properly see what he’s doing in the mirror, and brings both arms up over Bucky’s shoulders. From this angle it only takes a couple seconds to get the bow tie perfectly centered and secured around Bucky’s neck, just like it only takes a couple seconds for Tony’s pulse to jump up to truly unsafe levels.
“There, told you I know what I’m doing,” he says with a smug grin and then can’t quite seem to pull himself away, can’t seem to break eye contact with Bucky’s reflection.
“Looks perfect, thanks doll,” Bucky says, low and warm, and raises one hand to gently grab Tony’s forearm where it’s still draped over his chest. Like he doesn’t want Tony to pull away.
“So how did Pepper talk you into this?” Tony blurts, which, all things considered, is probably the least damaging thing he could blurt out right about now.
“She pointed out that if the Avengers look good, it helps your company look good,” he says, like that’s any kind of explanation, still staring Tony right in the eye like that’s supposed to mean something.
“That- that’s not- what-,” Tony says, startled, taking an instinctive step back. Bucky doesn’t let go of his arm, just turns back to face him with his mouth already open to protest. “Seriously,” Tony says, cutting him off and feeling a little frantic for reasons he can’t name, doesn’t want to name, “That’s not something you need to worry about, what- why would that-“
“Hey,” Bucky says, soft like Tony is some kind of spooked animal, which, okay, that feels pretty fair right now. When Bucky gives his arm a little tug Tony steps closer, completely helpless against it. Then Bucky’s other hand is on his face, fingertips just barely brushing Tony’s cheek, the line of his throat, and cool metal thumb pressed oh-so-gently beneath Tony’s chin nudging his head up to meet Bucky’s gaze. “Hey,” he says again, “I want t’ make you look good, okay? ‘S the least we can do after all you do to make us look good. ‘Cause I know that can’t be easy.”
Tony just gapes uselessly for a second, breath caught in his chest, and he’s not sure when he grabbed two handfuls of Bucky’s tux jacket, but he doesn’t think he could let go if he tried. Finally he manages to drag in a shaking break and stutter out “w-we?”
Bucky smirks a little wider, taps his thumb against Tony’s chin, and confesses “I may have helped Pepper ‘talk’ some of ‘em into it.”
And Tony is right back to useless gaping, because what the fuck is he supposed to do with that?! Tony has never expected the rest of the team to worry about the effect their Avenging has on SI, that’s his responsibility, his problem to deal with, and he has the growing feeling that Bucky is trying to tell him something here but Tony is too busy trying not to hyperventilate to figure out what the fuck it is-
“I’m about to enter the common room!” Comes a sudden shout from the hallway, and Tony startles so hard that Bucky’s hand still on his arm is the only thing that keeps him from toppling over. “Please no one throw tea at me this time!” The voice continues and oh, that’s Clint. Of course, because they’re waiting for the rest of the team. Who will be here any minute, and Tony should probably get it together already.
“That was your own fault, an’ I think you know it,” Bucky calls back, smiling just a little ruefully as he drops his hands back to his sides. Tony untangles his hands from Bucky’s jacket and has to resist the urge to smooth out the slight wrinkles he’s left in the lapels.
“Now hold on just a minute,” Clint says as he bursts into the room to defend himself, wrinkled suit jacket only half on and waving a finger at Bucky and Tony sees his chance.
Tony runs. Sure, he says he’s going to get Bruce, but it is absolutely just a cowardly flee. He just needs a minute, he just needs to breathe, needs to figure out what the hell he’s supposed to do with all the hope growing wild and unchecked in his lungs.
-
Tony gets home from a business trip and he honestly has no idea what time it is. He doesn’t even know what day it is, the only things he knows are that he’s jet lagged as all hell, and that he just wants to sleep.
When he gets to the penthouse there’s takeout from his favorite Italian place waiting on the table, still warm. There’s also a note that says ‘be a good boy and eat before you pass out for 12 hours’. It’s not signed, but at this point it really doesn't need to be.
He honestly doesn’t know what he’s expecting at this point, when he send a photo of the empty containers to Bucky with the caption ‘I want a cookie when I wake up.’
What Tony gets is an almost immediate response in the form of a picture of one of those chocolate-and-peanut-butter monstrosities that he loves, followed by a text that says ‘see you in 13 hours sweet thing’.
Tony wakes up almost exactly thirteen hours later, and he’s so far past wondering how Bucky does that. He’s also so far past his ‘avoid Bucky’ plan, all he wants to do is go find Bucky, get his cookie, and maybe even get the feeling of Bucky’s fingers ruffling his hair again.
So he does.
-
He’s heading for the elevator to leave for a press conference when Bucky and Natasha suddenly appear in his way, arms crossed and matching terrifying assassin glowers on their faces.
“Seriously, bells,” Tony says, clutching at his chest with the hand not clutching his to-go cup, “bells for everybody, I can’t live like this. I have a heart condition.”
They don’t laugh, but it’s not the usual ‘Tony please don’t joke about your heart condition’ not-laughing, and Tony is instantly on high alert, because something is going on here and he has a feeling he’s not going to like it.
The feeling only gets stronger when Bucky actually hesitates before slowly saying “I know you already talked t’ Pepper about this-“
“No,” Tony says instantly and he can’t believe he ever thought it was kind of sweet that Bucky talks to Pepper, that was clearly going to come back to bite him in the ass some day. Sure enough Natasha pulls out the very same body armor shirt Pepper had been waving at him this morning and Tony groans out “no.”
“You’re wearing the armor,” Natasha says flatly, and it’s completely unsurprising that she’s the one playing bad cop here.
“I am not wearing the armor,” Tony returns, just as flat, “because why would I? It’s a press conference, what’s the worst that could happen?”
“You could get shot again,” Bucky bursts out and his face is doing something truly fascinating, like he’s cycling through emotions too quickly for any of them to properly settle.
Tony can’t help rolling his eyes a little, because are they still on that? “What’re the odds that’ll happen again?” he says dismissively, “Smart assassins never try the same move twice, you know that frosty.”
Bucky’s face twitches harder and okay, apparently they are not yet to the point of joking about Tony’s recent gunshot wounds. Noted. “If you don’t wear the armor? Odds’re pretty damn high,” he growls out and yep, he’s even got his angry-eyebrows on. That’s usually reserved for Steve-levels of stupidity.
“You made this, it's the same material you use for all our gear,” Natasha points out, and okay, maybe she’s not ‘bad cop’ so much as ‘rational cop’. She holds the armor out to him, one eyebrow raised, and demands “are you saying it’s not good enough?”
“That is not what I’m saying, and I think you know it,” Tony says, narrowing his eyes because oh, that’s a low blow, how dare she imply he’d put his team in anything but the best. Her challenging smirk only gets wider, so Tony sniffs and drags his free hand over his chest as he says “I just don’t want to ruin the lines of my suit.”
“It’s the size of an undershirt, your figure will be fine,” Natasha says, but her lips twitch ever so slightly upwards.
Bucky remains staunchly unamused. “Yeah, I’m just gonna put the armor on you myself,” he says with a decisive nod, and Natasha gleefully hands it over.
“I’ll throw my coffee on you,” Tony warns, holding it up like a shield and taking a step back, “it won’t accomplish much, but then you’ll have to listen to me bitch about how I don’t have my coffee anymore. I might even cry.” Bucky keeps advancing on him, armor in hand and a determined look in his eye, so Tony pretends to fumble with the lid of his cup and warns “I’m talking ugly crying here, Bucky-bear, you’ve seen me without my coffee, it’ll be embarrassing for everyone, and-“
"Tony," Bucky snaps, standing right in front of him now, voice low and rough and cracking ever so slightly, "be a good boy and wear the damn armor!”
Tony's stupid heart trips all over itself. Natasha is somehow suddenly all the way down the hall, pointedly ignoring them while sipping Tony’s coffee, and when did she even steal that, and she is very clearly blocking Tony’s escape route. Not that Tony could actually flee right now if he wanted to, he’s much too busy just trying to stay standing under the force of the hot flush that rushes over him, stomach clenching hard and blood roaring in his ears. Tony can’t find the air to reply, can only stare, and Bucky’s face crumples a little further.
“Please, doll? I gotta know you’re safe, I can’t-'' Bucky cuts himself off, clenching his jaw, and Tony feels some confusing mix of horrified and elated. Because of course he feels terrible that he’s the reason for the terrified, pleading look in Bucky’s eyes, the reason Bucky’s right hand trembles slightly as he gives the body armor held between them a little shake. But on the other hand, Tony is the one who made Bucky look like that, cracked open and vulnerable, Tony did that. And oh, he knows that Bucky is letting it show, for him, it’s a gift that he hears the way Bucky’s breath hitches as he pleads “Just- jus’ do this for me? Be good and wear th’ damn armor so I can feel like you’re safe, will you do that?”
Fuck, Tony is pretty sure he’s going to die, he’s pretty sure the entire tower can hear the way his heart is racing in his chest, He has no idea how he’s supposed to respond to that, because all he really wants to do is take that single step it would require to bury his face in Bucky’s chest. But Tony knows he has to say something, anything, Bucky is still staring at him like he’s waiting for an answer, and it nearly knocks him off his feet all over again when he realizes Bucky has been waiting for an answer from him for a while now.
"O-okay," Tony finally manages, voice weak around the way his heart is lodged somewhere in this throat and already shrugging off his jacket so he can just take the stupid god damn armor.
"Yeah?" Bucky asks, voice pitched low, gaze heavy, so much in that simple question. It’s so new and so familiar and Tony is already nodding because oh fuck yes, anything Bucky is offering, anything he wants, yes.
Tony has to swallow thickly a couple times before he can actually say “Yeah, I- I can do that. Wearing the armor, being safe.” Being good, he doesn’t say, but Bucky’s eyes darken like he heard it anyways. Once Tony has finished tugging off his jacket and tie Bucky takes them from his shaking hands, and Tony can only manage a vague huff of protest as Bucky carelessly drapes them over his own shoulder and makes an impatient gesture with his free hand.
And here’s the thing, Tony is not generally what people would call ‘shy’. He left his shame far behind him about a decade or two ago and never looked back. But it’s Bucky, and he just keeps staring as Tony starts fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, and Tony has a terrible feeling the flush on his face is spreading down his neck. He’s more or less gotten used to the scars that litter his torso, his teammates have all seen them and on a good day Tony even forgets they exist. He’s still getting used to the three new freshly-healed bullet holes scattered across his stomach, so of course that’s right where Bucky’s eyes settle and it’s all Tony can do not to fidget, not to snatch his shirt back out of Bucky’s hand.
Bucky’s fingers are warm as they trace over the shiny new skin, ticklishly light and unbearably gentle. “Jus’ wanna feel like I’m protectin’ you,” he says, voice barely more than a sigh, and Tony wants to protest that it’s not his fault but he can’t find the air. Instead all he can do is nod, scared to breathe too hard in case it dislodges Bucky’s fingers from tracing the edges of each slightly raised scar. Tony can’t help the soft noise he makes when Bucky’s hand falls back to his side, already mourning the loss of contact, and Bucky smirks just a little as he says “Arms up, babydoll.”
Tony definitely hears Natasha snort, somewhere down the hallway, but it’s pretty low on the scale of her ‘insulting snorts’ and Tony really doesn’t care right now. He’s too busy throwing his arms up so quickly that it’s a miracle he doesn’t smack Bucky in the face or dislocate his shoulder or something equally ridiculous. Bucky smirks a little wider but doesn’t say anything, just carefully slips the deceptively thin body armor onto Tony’s arms and then gently lowers it down over his head.
Bucky makes sure the armor is pulled all the way down, big hands running over Tony’s hips and the small of his back, and then hands back Tony’s shirt. “There y’ go, nice and safe for me,” Bucky says almost absently as he fixes Tony’s hair and Tony is mostly still just marveling at the open relief in Bucky’s eyes.
“You’re only paranoid because I’m an average squishy human,” Tony tries to accuse, mostly to distract from the way his hands are shaking as he does up his buttons, but it comes out wobbly because even he doesn't believe that anymore.
Bucky’s lips quirk up like he knows Tony doesn’t really think that, but he still says “Nah, I worry cuz its you,” voice soft, like he needs to be sure that Tony knows. His eyes are dark as he watches Tony settle the knot of his tie against the hollow of his throat, and Tony’s hands are shaking so badly that Bucky has to help him get his jacket back in place. “Didn’t even ruin th’ lines of your suit,” he adds with a smug little grin, running both wide palms down Tony’s chest, fingers spread wide, and there’s no way he can’t feel the way Tony’s heart is trying to beat straight out of his chest.
“Lucky for you,” Tony says, voice equally soft, and when Bucky’s hands fall away he drags in a ragged breath.
“Lucky me,” Bucky repeats absently, like he’s talking about something else entirely, and then leans forward. His grip is firm but gentle as he cups the back of Tony’s head with one hand, his lips are dry and soft against Tony’s temple, and Tony freezes up all over again. “Thank you, Tony,” he whispers, lips moving against Tony’s skin and sending shivers down his spine, “always so good for me.”
Tony makes a sound that he refuses to categorize as a whimper, and Bucky pulls away smiling amused and warm and amazed. When Tony steps onto the elevator he’s still trying to catch his breath, but his hands are steady.
-
“You should date me,” Tony blurts out that night, because he can’t not, anymore. Because he’d smiled like a loon all the way through the press conference, face still warm, and at the end Pepper had asked him if he had a concussion, half serious and half knowingly smug. Because the warm flutter in his chest still hasn’t faded. Because Bucky has been giving him that look, and Tony thinks he’s finally figured it out.
Bucky just blinks at him for a second, and okay yeah, maybe Tony could have picked a slightly better place than the middle of the kitchen. At one in the morning. When they’re both in worn pajamas, odds are unfortunately pretty good that Tony has the remains of his PB&J sandwich smeared around his mouth.
He probably could have picked some better words too, so Tony scrambles desperately for some and all he comes up with is “Or, I should date you. We should date each other. No, I mean- yes, but- fuck-“
“Yeah,” Bucky says, cutting him off and still blinking at him like he’s vaguely dazed. “Yeah, we- us. Dating. Yes. Okay.”
Tony blinks back at him, because that sounded a lot like Bucky agreeing to date him, but it also sounds a lot like he just broke Bucky’s brain. “Are you sure?” Tony has to ask, shuffling on his feet a little, “Because-“
“What- yes,” Bucky says, surprisingly vehement, lurching up from the stool he’s been sitting on. Tony dares to let a wide smile start spreading across his face. Still-
“I’ll be a good boyfriend,” he offers helpfully, and really wishes he could sound more sure of that. He’s damn sure going to do his best.
Bucky is up and across the kitchen in an instant, taking Tony’s face in his big, deadly, gentle hands and breathing out “Tony.” He’s moved from looking dazed to looking something almost like awed and he says “Tony, doll, you are already so good to me, I just want you.”
Tony shudders all over and he’s not sure when his hands landed on Bucky’s waist but he’s holding on for dear life. “Bucky,” he sighs, and then, because he’s weak, he begs “Say it again.”
And oh, Tony just knew that Bucky knew what he was doing, and he gets his proof because instantly Bucky tightens his grip, drags his fingers along the hollows behind Tony’s ears. “Gonna be my good boy, yeah?” he asks, breath hot against Tony’s lips, eyes dark and intent, smirk to die for.
“Oh,” Tony gasps and when he shivers Bucky just holds him tighter, pulls him closer, until Tony’s eyes fall closed and he’s clinging helplessly to the broad muscle of Bucky’s back. “I- oh,” he gasps again when Bucky’s thumbs trace along his cheekbones, barely catching his eyelashes, and Bucky’s answering laugh is everything. It’s happy and amazed in a way that makes Tony's chest warm and fluttery, dark and just a little condescending in a way that makes his guy tighten up in heated want.
“I see you, Tony,” Bucky says, low and rough and insistent, “I see everything you do for us, for everyone.” His lips trace the line of Tony’s brow in soft, feather-light kisses, and his voice is barely more than a breath when he adds “For me. Gonna be good an’ let me take care of you back?”
Tony is caught between the urge to nod frantically and the need to stay exactly where he is, Bucky’s hands cupping his face like the most precious thing he’s ever held, so instead he croaks out “Yeah, I- I can- fuck I want that.” Tony cracks his eyes open again, because it’s overwhelming, and he doesn’t want to miss it.
Bucky smiles, happy and proud and heated and a million other things that have warmth spreading through Tony’s chest, curling up tight in his gut, lighting up his entire body. “Can I kiss you, baby?” he asks, lips nearly close enough to touch already, and when Tony throws himself forward Bucky catches him easily, left hand sliding to the small of Tony’s back and pulling him in closer.
The first press of lips is electric, has Tony sighing out a soft noise and then Bucky’s hand still cupping his jaw tilts his head a little further back and Bucky licks his way into his mouth with a slow, consuming determination. Tony clings harder to Bucky’s shirt where it stretches tight across his shoulders and hangs on for all he’s worth, tries to catch Bucky’s tongue between his teeth and shudders when Bucky growls low in his throat.
Bucky’s thigh slots between Tony’s like it belongs there and Tony breaks away from the kiss with a shaking groan as he abruptly realizes that he’s achingly hard, soft cotton of his sweats damp and clinging and amazing. “O-oh, shit-“ Tony gasps out, helpless against the way his hips jerk forwards just once to grind himself against that thick thigh. “God, Bucky-“ he whines, ducking his head to pant against the curve of Bucky’s shoulder and then bites back a desperate noise when Bucky’s thigh nudges up against him a little harder.
“Tha’s real sweet baby, sound so good,” Bucky sighs out as his lips move over Tony’s hairline, down his temple, his breath as heated as his words. He shifts his hand a little lower, spreads his fingers wide over the curve of Tony’s ass and pulls him in encouragingly as he growls “C’mon doll, don’t stop, lemme hear you makin' all those pretty noises for me.”
Tony doesn’t need to be told twice, rolls his hips forward again with another muffled groan. “Bucky, oh my god-“ he whines and presses closer, until he can feel Bucky’s cock nudged up thick and hot against his hip. His legs shake and he just clenches them tighter around Bucky’s thigh, tucks his face into Bucky’s throat and grinds himself forward. The sweet friction against his cock has Tony gasping again, shuddering all over as fire races up his spine and his head spins.
“Good, so good sweet thing, fit so perfect against me, gonna take such good care of you, treat you just right,” Bucky says against the shell of his ear and presses his thigh up a little further, digs his metal fingers a little harder into the swell of Tony’s ass and pulls in time with the roll of Tony’s hips against him. When Tony moans and clutches at him tighter Bucky chuckles again, low and dark, and drags his calloused thumb along the line of Tony’s jaw as he asks ”Damn you’re easy for me, ain’t ya? Gonna come like this, grindin’ against me all desperate and shakin’ for it?”
It sends another wave of heated, slightly-embarrassed arousal crashing over Tony and all he can do is whine again because unless Bucky is planning on stopping him, then he absolutely is. At this point Tony couldn't stop himself if he wanted to, cock throbbing and leaking as he grinds himself against Bucky’s thigh, panting hot against the curve of Bucky’s throat.
He can already feel his orgasm building fast, feels like it’s been building forever now, and his voice is shaking as hard as the rest of him as he moans out “Bucky- please, I- I’m, I can’t, please-“ Bucky silences him with a scrape of his teeth over the shell of Tony’s ear that has him practically collapsing against Bucky’s chest, limp except for the way he can’t stop rutting himself against Bucky’s thigh, chasing the sparks that light up his body.
Bucky laughs again, just a low, warm rumble in his chest, and presses another kiss to Tony’s eyebrow before saying “You’re this worked up you better come for me now, babydoll. ‘Cuz I’m gonna take you upstairs an’ take my time with you, make you feel as good as you deserve an’ put you to bed real sweet, how does that sound baby?”
He somehow makes it sound like both a promise and a threat, and Tony chokes out a noise caught somewhere between a sob and a moan. “Y-yeah, fuck yeah that- oh- fuck please-“ Bucky’s fingers press a little more firmly against the base of his skull, sliding through his hair, and Tony feels like he’s burning.
“Good,” Bucky says, an uneven hitch to his breath and Tony can feel the way Bucky’s cock throbs against him, “Fuck, you’re so good sweet thing, so perfect, feel so good, sounds so sweet for me, c’mon Tony, wanna feel you fall apart for me.”
Every word settles hot in Tony’s gut, has his head spinning faster until all he knows is Bucky’s voice in his ear, Bucky’s hands firm and demanding against him, the rush of his own blood in his ear as the pressure builds inside him. His sweats are going to be ruined and Tony doesn’t give a fuck because he’s so close, thin cotton already soaked and clinging to his cock, thrusts of his hips gone short and uncoordinated as his fingers scramble at Bucky’s back.
“Bucky,” he moans out, completely shameless, and drags his teeth over the line of Bucky’s throat, just because he can. Because Tony still kind of can’t believe the way Bucky shakes and groans against him, pulls him in harder and meets every roll of Tony’s hips with one of his own. “God, you’re so- I, I can’t believe- oh- Wanted you so long-“
“I know,” Bucky says, surprisingly soft and something almost like sheepish. He presses his thumb a little harder to the underside of Tony’s chin and tips his head up again, making Tony gasp at the rush of cool air over his flushed face even as he keeps his eyes squeezed shut because it’s so much. He’s so close to breaking apart at every seam. Bucky’s lips brush against his and Tony whimpers even as Bucky says “I see you now baby, been taking care of me for so long, haven’t you? Been so good, takin’ care of yourself so perfect for me, shit- you’re so good for me doll.”
“Bucky,” he gasps again, so close to the edge, every inch of him tingling, burning, so close-
“Look at me, Tony,” Bucky says, barest edge of a demand to his voice and it still has Tony prying his eyes open instantly. Then he groans weakly because Bucky is right there, blue eyes gone nearly dark, wild and hungry and fixed on him like there’s nothing else in the world as he breathes out “now be a good boy and come for me.”
Tony’s orgasm hits him overwhelming and inevitable, leaves him moaning breathlessly and clinging to Bucky impossibly tighter. Bucky’s hand on his ass keeps pulling him in, dragging it out until Tony is shaking and nearly sobbing into the feather light brush of Bucky’s lips against his own as Bucky calls him ‘good’ and ‘perfect’ and ‘gorgeous’.
As soon as he gets back the bare minimum brain cells Tony tips his chin up to kiss Bucky again, blissed out and lazy and it makes him shiver all over again when Bucky clutches at him tighter with a deep groan. Tony has to break away from the kiss sooner than he’d like because he still hasn’t quite caught his breath, hasn’t been able to get his hips to stop twitching forward as aftershocks race through him.
“Damn,” Bucky sighs, one hand petting at Tony’s hair and the other gentling against his waist as Tony slumps against him fully, “Good boy, so good baby, so perfect for me. Let’s get you up into bed, huh? Spread you out real nice and get my mouth on every inch of you.”
And that sounds good, it really does, but Tony can still feel Bucky’s cock thick and hard and throbbing against his hip, and he wants it now. So instead Tony drops to his knees, moving quick enough that he slides easily out of Bucky’s lax grip, presses his face to Bucky’s hip and nuzzles his cheek against the clear outline of Bucky cock through his thin pajamas.
“Fuck-“ Bucky gasps and his fingers tighten in Tony’s hair, holding him in place as his hips jerk forwards. “Damn what a sight you make, you want it that bad, doll?”
Tony turns his head just enough to look up at Bucky, lips moving against the hard line of Bucky’s cock, and he’s never meant anything more as he breathes out “Please, honey.”
Bucky’s eyes get impossibly darker and his cock throbs, the scent of him thick and heady and Tony’s mouth is watering. “We’re still in the kitchen, baby,” Bucky points out, but he’s already hooking his thumb into the front of his pants.
“I can be quick,” Tony promises, smirking a little because Bucky’s hips keep twitching forward against him, parajams visibly wet where they pull tight over the head of his cock, and this isn’t going to take long at all. And Tony really, really doesn’t care right now that he’s in the kitchen in a tower full of insomniacs, all he cares about his getting his mouth on Bucky, making Bucky feel as amazing as he does.
Bucky groans out something that was probably meant to be Tony’s name, but Tony has more important things to focus on because Bucky shoves his pants down far enough for his cock to spring free and Tony wastes no time trying to choke himself on it. He’s so loose-limbed and orgasm-dazed that when Bucky’s cock nudges at the back of his throat Tony just keeps going, only gags a little even as his eyes water and a whine builds in his chest.
“Oh- fuck Tony, so good, you’re so good baby, so- fuck-“ Bucky’s every word comes out rough and gasping and his fingers dig harder into the back of Tony’s neck, hips jerking forward like he just can’t help himself.
Tony moans encouragingly and clings to his hips, presses his nose to Bucky’s stomach and swallows around his cock. Bucky pulls back and then thrusts himself deep into Tony’s throat with another shuddering groan. Then he does it again, and again, until Tony has spit and precome sliding down his chin and arousal building again, almost painful, in his gut.
“Good, fuck you feel so good, you’re so- Tony-“ The way Bucky groans out the compliments, practically snarls his name, sends a hot shiver down Tony’s spine and has shaking all over again.
There’s a desperate moan caught in Tony’s chest that comes bursting out of him when Bucky abruptly tightens his fingers in Tony’s hair and yanks him back, leaves Tony panting for breath. His protest dies away when he opens his eyes and meets Bucky’s gaze, dark and ravenous.
“Open up, sweet thing,” Bucky growls, metal hand flying over his cock and his other hand still holding Tony in place, so close to the flushed, leaking head of Bucky’s cock and yet so far.
Tony doesn’t even need to think before he lets his aching jaw fall all the way open and he doesn’t care that his face is wet, constant pleading noises slipping out of his raw throat. He doesn’t care that he’s kneeling on the hard tile of the kitchen with his own come cooling in his sweats, all he cares about is getting more.
“Good boy,” Bucky gasps, and then finally comes. It streaks warm across Tony’s chin, the bridge of his nose, into his open mouth, and Tony lets his eyes fall closed again with a pleased moan as he runs his tongue over his lip, chasing the musky taste of him. “Fuck- shit, oh, Tony-“ the way Bucky groans out his name is going to stick with Tony for a long, long time, ringing in his ears, lighting him up, and Tony wants to hear it forever.
He’s still catching his breath when Bucky pulls him to his feet, into his arms, and Tony is all too happy to wrap his arms around Bucky’s shoulders, his shaking legs around Bucky’s waist, and let Bucky take his weight. “Okay, now we can go upstairs,” Tony slurs out as he drops his forehead to Bucky’s shoulder, voice rough, still feeling like he’s floating on air.
Bucky laughs, quiet and rumbling, and his hand is so gentle on the back of Tony’s head again as he tucks Tony’s face down into the curve of his neck. It’s definitely smearing Bucky’s shirt in come but if Bucky doesn’t mind then Tony certainly doesn’t care, just snuggles in closer and wonders if it’s actually possible for his heart to swell straight out of his chest.
“Whatever you want, babydoll,” Bucky says, warm and fond, presses a quick kiss to the side of Tony’s head and then starts carrying him towards the elevators. “Gonna take such good care of you, my good boy.”
Tony is pretty sure it’s not physically possible to get any closer, but he wraps himself tighter around Bucky and gives it his best shot and he mumbles “Gonna take care of you back.”
“I know you are, sweet thing, ‘s what makes you amazing,” Bucky says with another warm laugh, and Tony could probably argue that, because he’s really not, but he decides to let Bucky have this one.
For now. Apparently, they’ll have plenty of time to debate it later, over dates, and Tony is so looking forward to it.
-
Tony wakes up sore in places he didn’t even know he had, teeth marks on his shoulders and stubble burn on his thighs and just- deliriously happy. He can’t even try to convince himself it was some kind of crazy dream, because the physical evidence is kind of overwhelming. The other half of his bed is still warm, and there’s a telling clattering sound coming from his kitchen, and Tony decides he can afford to let himself lay here grinning at the ceiling like a loon for a while.
Soon enough Bucky is back with a giant plate of waffles and a wide smile, pausing in the doorway to drag his eyes down Tony’s bare chest. His hair is a mess and he’s unbearably gorgeous, and Tony smiles back as he realizes he can say it now.
“A beautiful man and breakfast? Help, my heart can’t take it,” Tony says, clutching at his chest with one hand even as he makes grabby motions at Bucky with the other.
“Not funny,” Bucky says, but he’s laughing as he sets the plate down on the nightstand and crawls back into bed, into Tony’s arms, and he’s still smiling softly when Tony pulls him into a kiss.
#The one where bucky gives tony a cookie and then watches him eat it#as i call it in my head#winteriron#buckytony#starkbucks#my fic
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It’s New Year’s Eve and Maddie decides that after two kids and another on the way, it’s time to propose to chimney who doesn’t appear to be doing so anytime soon 🥺
“Is everything okay, mommy?” Ruth asks with huge wide eyes, her five year old clearly picking up on her anxiety.
“Everything’s fine,” she nods, “don’t worry about me. I just... have to do something later.”
And that thing she has to do later? Proposing to Ruth’s father. They have two kids, another one in her belly and have been together and in love for years, getting through every curve ball they’ve been thrown together. She knows Chimney loves her and isn’t wary of committing himself to her, so she gets the feeling that yes, he would absolutely propose to her if he knew that’s what she wanted, but is scared of “pushing” her into marriage.
It’s a sweet line of thought, given what fresh hell she went through in her first marriage, but it’s not an accurate one. Sure, back when she still couldn’t say I love you to him because of the trauma, she wasn’t ready for marriage. But she is now and it doesn’t seem to matter how many hints she drops, he hasn’t proposed to her.
She even called Hen to confirm that he had no ring or current plans to propose so she wouldn’t steal his thunder, and Hen had laughed and said no, but vowed to keep her secret so that Chimney would be surprised.
She’s just waiting for him to get home so she can ask him to marry her before they go to Bobby and Athena’s New Year’s Eve party. They can celebrate with everyone after he says yes, but neither of them are big on the concept of a public proposal, even if “public” is just their closest friends.
“You suuuuure you’re okay, mommy?”
“I am, Ruthie, just a little tired.”
Ruth is perfect. She’s strong willed like her mother, smart, and hilarious like her father and she can be a pain in the ass like all five year olds, but Maddie wouldn’t have it any other way. Her little sister Cora is one and a half-- the age gap wider between the two of them than both of her parents would have liked it to be, but they had a rough go of conceiving a second time.
And then Cora was born when Maddie was 39, and then they were certain their family was complete, because they were content with two kids and also because they didn’t think they’d ever be able to get pregnant again, given how much trouble they had with Cora’s conception and that Maddie was now even older, it would only get harder.
And then after weeks of nausea, at age 41, she found herself staring down at another positive pregnancy test.
She moves her hand down to her growing bump, smiling when she thinks about this wonderful unexpected gift the universe had given her. She’s hoping for a little boy, but she knows Chimney wants another little girl. They’ll find out who is going to be over the moon next week at her ultrasound.
The door knob starts turning, and she takes a look at Ruth on the couch, and her sister in her highchair and briefly imagines them in fancy dresses with flower headbands at their parents’ wedding.
All Chimney needs to do is say yes and her vision will come true.
The thoughtful plans she had for this moment go out the window when the door swings open and Chimney is in front of her, practically slamming herself down onto one knee.
“Uh, you okay?”
“I want you to marry me,” she blurts out, and it takes Chimney a second before the look on his face changes from confusion to one of wonder.
“Are you... y-you’re proposing?”
“Yeah, hold on I have a ring-- for me not you but I knew you wouldn’t want on-- let me get out. Sorry, I had this whole speech and--”
“Yes.”
“...What?” she asks, his words pulling her out of her anxious rambling so it’s taking a moment for her brain to catch up.
“Yes, I’ll marry you. Nothing would make me happier.”
“You haven’t even seen the ring yet,” she teases, but she’s grinning and the tears of joy are already slipping down her cheeks.
“Well, it’s for you, not me, so.”
“Here, still w-want you to see the pretty ring I bought myself.”
“Later. Right now I just want to kiss you.”
“Mommy and daddy are getting married?” Ruth interrupts, clapping her hands as she runs over to them.
“Yes, baby girl, mommy and--”
“Mommy and daddy are getting married, Cora!” Ruth shouts, even though Cora is a baby and does not understand any of what’s just happened or what her sister has said to her.
“Maybe you’ll have to wait for your kisses until later,” Maddie laughs, throwing her head back, “but for now... look at the ring I bought me.”
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Family Pride or Clan Trevor
Quick Tag List: @kuruumiya @spacelizardtrashboys @stupidbluegirl @enigmaticandunstable @nattinngrst
This Passage Contains Potentially: swearing, violence, blood, angst, whump, fluff and very smutty content.
Summary: Rod and Kirby talk more about what a potential future together might look like and Rod meets the rest of the Trevor Clan.
Kirby's POV:
The rest of the day was quiet, too quiet, almost as if Roddy was planning something for the get-together tomorrow. The morning of the Twenty-Ninth was quiet still, then we had to leave to go to the get together, we got in my dad's Vauxhall Firenza and I zoned out until we reached the community centre and parked in the overflow parking lot.
I spotted two of my cousins walking over, the identical twins, Mona and Meredith, with their husbands and kids not to far behind them.
"Su’mae"
"Su’mae" They repeated, in unison.
My skin crawled as I recalled all the times over the years that the twins had spooked me.
"Beth ydy eich enw chi?" Mona attempted to ask Roddy.
"Mon, he doesn't speak Welsh, this is Roddy. Rod, this is Mona and Meredith."
"Hi Ladies, I'm Rod, Kirby's boyfriend."
"Cariad?" Meredith looked up at me, my face unmasked showing flushed cheeks, "Cawsoch chi'ch hun yn gariad?"
"Aye."
"Llongyfarchiadau!"
"Thank you, Meredith, How're the kids?"
"Oh, They're fine."
"You speak English?" Rod asked, incredulous.
"Of course we do." The twins answered in unison.
Rod shot me a concerned look, I gave him a knowing but still somewhat scared look in return.
We walked into the centre and I immediately saw the 'welcome home' banner and I couldn't stop the rush of emotions and Rod noticed the change in me, seeing the softer and much more hidden side of me, the part of me that never wanted to leave my homeland for the USA. I rushed outside, sitting on the bench next to the door, Roddy following quickly behind me.
"Woah, woah. Are ya alright, baby?"
"I'm fine, just a little light-headed is all."
"Don't you go lying ta me."
"I'm just a little emotional, Rod, it's been a while since I was here and I haven't seen half of my family for much longer than that."
My cousins Pat and Rod came up to the bench.
"Hey Kirby, new fella."
"Hey Patrick, Roderick. Uhh, boys, this is my boyfriend, Roddy. Roddy, my cousins, Patrick and Roderick."
"So," Pat started, "When's the wedding?"
"What are ya talkin' about," Rod (My cousin, Roderick) added, "There's got to be an engagement party before a weddin, Paddy."
"I know Roddy, but then there's also the Hen and Stag Do's, too."
"So, How long you two been dating?"
"Not long enough for you two to be making those jokes." I chided
"Okay, we'll leave you two to your business."
They scarpered off quite quickly after that, leaving me and Roddy (Piper) alone for a while.
"Those two are weird."
"Rod, they're family, of course they're weird."
"They raise a fair point though."
"What do you mean?!" I shot him a confused look
"Well, when would our wedding be?"
"That depends."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Well, knowing your 'appetite' it depends on if you y'know put me 'up the duff' so to speak, before or after the end of the year."
"Well, if I get you 'knocked up' before the end of the year, you'd marry me at the start f next year?"
"Exactly."
"What if I get you 'knocked up' before the end of next month?" he teased
"Roddy, don't tease me, boyo."
"Oh come on, we'll sneak back to ya Da's Firenza, get in the back, shack up and-"
I covered Rod's mouth with my hand, "Don't be a fuckwit, Roderick," I let him speak again.
"I'm not being a 'fuckwit', I'm suggesting," he placed his hand on my thigh, close to my knee, slowly moving his hand closer to my groin, "We go, shack up, fly back before the second of Feb, if I get you pregnant, then we'll get married sooner rather than later, if I don't then we'll try again."
"Rod, I'm twenty-nine."
"So am I, until April seventeenth. Why? When are you suggesting I get ya 'Knocked up'?"
"I dunno, when I'm thirty, or in my thirties. Not now."
"So, next year. I think I can wait until then," He then whispered something to himself that I could barely hear, "If I don't get blue balls and die."
"Roddy!"
"Ya heard that, didn't ya."
"Rod, I, you, ugh."
"C'mere baby." He pulled me closer, one hand on my thigh and the other cupping my cheek, giving me a quick kiss on the lips, "I love ya baby, I would wait an eternity to have a family with you," He pulled me back into a longer and more passionate kiss, pulling away when we both needed to breathe.
"I love you, Piper."
"Do you want me to marry ya, before we have kids?"
"Preferably, I don't want you to leave me."
"I'd never leave ya, never, not me."
"Yeah, like you're Prince fucking Arthur."
"That would make you my Guinevere."
"I'm nothing like Guinevere."
The rest of the evening was quite quiet, a family meal at a local restaurant, resulting in a drunken Roddy and me getting somewhat tipsy. Safe to say, my Da did not enjoy driving us back to the house. But I had sobered up somewhat by the time we were in bed for the night, Rod not so much.
"Oh, baby, let me make love to ya."
"Rod, shush."
"But we could be havin' so much fun."
"Roddy, get some rest or you'll hate yourself in the morning."
"But I just wanna kiss ya, and hug ya, and stuff ya pretty little maw wit ma co-"
"Roderick. Shut up."
"Fine, fine. I'll get some sleep, ya bi-"
I pulled him into a rough and passionate kiss, slipping my tongue into his mouth before pulling away and shifting positions to straddle his lap.
"ya big sexy beast, c'mere."
He pulled me down into another rough but passionate kiss, using his free hand to grind my grin against his, making sure that I can feel the heat rising from his crotch, barely covered by his briefs, grinding against my own barely clothed frame. The bulge in his pants pressing into the curve of my groin, Rod letting out small grunts and groans, feeling his hand move from my ass to the front of my crotch before feeling him rub at my clit before he slipped his hand into my boxer shorts, rubbing at my clit before checking to see if I'm wet, letting out a satisfied grunt before pulling away from the kiss.
"Would you like me to get you off, Roddy?"
"How about, you give me my release and I give you yours."
"Sure, but we gotta keep this quiet."
Rod pulled me into another heated make out session.
When we woke up the following morning, limbs intertwined, Rod's body on top of mine.
"Morning, beautiful."
"Good Morning, my love."
"What day is it?"
"Monday. Thirtieth, January. Nineteen Eighty-Four."
"I gotta make some calls."
Rod tried to get up, not realising how intertwined our legs were, climbing out of the bed, pulling us both off the bed and landing on his back on the floor with a thud.
"Oh my God, Roddy, are you okay?"
"I'm alright baby, I'm ok, you?"
"I'm alright. I was scared that I hurt ya."
"Nah, you could never hurt me."
I got off of him, pulling him up afterwards and kissing him before he went off to make the calls he needed to. I did my morning routine, my Mam gave me a coffee and I set myself up in the gym half of the garage.
At least an hour passed before I saw Roddy again, I was drinking the final drops of my coffee when he rushed into the gym his concerned expression instantly turning into relief.
"Ya alright, handsome."
"I'm okay honey, I'm okay. Turns out we need to leave earlier than planned, as in before the fourth."
"Then we'll leave tomorrow, my parents will understand. My Da won't like us leaving so soon, so if I were you, I'd go build the familial bridge now so that he doesn't kill ya."
"Alright, I'll go do that. I love ya. Oh, you have a match on the Sixth against S.D Jones."
"Okay, I love you."
I spent another hour in the gym before Piper returned.
"Ya Da has said that he'll kill me if I hurt ya or break ya heart, however he knows that we need to go back to work eventually and trusts that you'll put me in my place."
"Sounds like my Da, hey Hot Rod."
"Hey baby," He got closer, wrapping his arms around my waist, "gimme some sugar."
"No, I'm covered in sweat," I tried to avoid him kissing my neck but failed, "alright, fine, fine. I give in."
He cupped my jaw with his left hand, pulling me down into the kiss, his eyebrows knitted together and my eyelids fluttered closed for a moment, letting Rod control the moment. The moment Rod pulled away I pressed my forehead to his.
"Do you wanna watch me work out?"
"You box, Rod?"
"Golden Gloves Champion. Black belt in Judo, too."
"Handsome and athletic, you are the whole package."
"Thanks for the compliment, but y'know, a strong man is only as strong as his partner."
"Do you mean me or Orndorff and Schultz?"
"You, ya dafty."
"Rod."
"Yes, Kirby?"
"Do you wanna leave tonight, red eye flight, get back before tomorrow morning?"
"Sure, if that's what ya wanna do, we'll go tonight."
"Rod."
"Yeah."
"I want … I would like," I took a second to compose myself," I would like to have a family with you."
He pulled away, locking eyes with me, his tone optimistic, "Really?"
"Absolutely," I wiped a tear away from my eye, "I want to marry you, I want to be a wife and a mother and I want to be with you."
"Do you want to live here, or in the States?"
"Well, America would mean we can work easier."
He let out a small chuckle, smirking up at me, "I love ya, I want to marry ya and be with ya through thick and thin, anything happens, I'll be by your side."
"Promise me, you won't fight with Damien any more."
"I promise you I won't. Promise me, you'll let me tell people about us."
"I promise you, you can tell whoever you want."
"Let's go make ourselves a new home, alright baby?"
"Yeah."
We packed our things and my Da drove us to the airport. I gave my parents a tearful goodbye and we got the next flight back to New Jersey, checking into a hotel in Edison and I left Piper for half an hour to pick up the D200, collecting my paperwork from a nearby DMV centre and going back to the hotel. Rod opened the door, letting me in and slumping on the double bed next to me.
"Hey beautiful."
"Hi Rod, help me with this, please." I gestured to the paperwork
"What is it?"
"Insurance stuff, getting you insured on the D200."
"Give it here, I'll deal with it."
"No Rod, I'm capable of filling it out, just help me with the details."
"Just, gimme the papers," He leaned over and kissed my neck, "let me handle it, baby."
"Not with the mood you're in."
"I can't help that you're sexy."
"Rod, stop thinking with ya dick for five minutes and help me."
"Alright, fine."
We were almost finished with the paperwork when there was a knocking at the door.
"Who is it?"
"Piper, let me in or I'm kicking this door down." The muffled voice threatened.
"Shit, that's Schultz."
"Holy shit, Piper. Are you fucking the female giant?"
That was not Schultz's voice. It sounded like Orndorff.
Piper groaned as he opened the door.
"I'm not fucking her right now, Paul."
"Hi Schultz, Orndorff. Rod get your ass back over here and help me with this."
"Pay me." Rod teased
"With what?" I jokingly responded
"With sex" Schultz and Orndorff said almost simultaneously, giving each other a knowing look.
"All three of you share a brain." I mumbled
Piper groaned, gesturing for me to give him the papers, I complied and he read through it, mumbling the words of the document to himself.
Schultz looked from me to Piper before nudging Orndorff's arm, "They look like they're already married, Paul. Piper's got himself a wife."
"I'm not his wife-"
"She's my girlfriend." Roddy interrupted
"I was gonna say that Roddy."
"I know baby, I know."
"Jeez Rod, get her pregnant or somethin' boy."
"David!" I chided
"I would, but she's got a fight on the sixth."
"Roddy!" Orndorff chastised
We spent the rest of the evening with the boys and eventually I fell asleep next to Roddy. I woke up the next morning with Roddy next to me.
"Morning Kirby."
"Good morning, Roderick, ya handsome fool."
"I love you too honey," Rod kissed my forehead, "I filed the paperwork for ya."
"Thank you. What's the time?"
"About, half ten in the morning. Do ya wanna go grab breakfast?"
"I'd thought you'd never ask."
END OF FAMILY PRIDE or CLAN TREVOR
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The Morrígan — Five...
Summary: Although the other ship had sent out a distress signal, no one aboard Vishpala II had responded when Marvin and Chase had tried to contact them again.
There was only silence.
It had been deafening.
/ / /
This fic was inspired by this edit made by @oh-itskitkat!! thank you again for the inspiration, and I hope you like what came from it!
Warnings for this chapter: blood, horror elements, and death
Read it on Ao3 here: x
/ / /
It’s been four months since Chase last saw his kids. Sure, he’s got photographs, and he’s seen the kids through a computer screen— heard their little voices as they talked to him during their weekly calls. So he knows he won’t forget their faces, won’t forget how when they laugh at something he’s said his lips split into a wide grin at the sound.
While he might be able to see his kids, it’s been a little over a hundred days since he got to be with them. It’s been months since he got to braid his daughter’s hair, and since he got to sing his son to sleep.
On the bright side, Chase only has three months, one week, and five days until his feet will touch the earth again. All he has to do is make it through another one hundred and four days and he can see his kids. Just another hundred days and he can see the trees and feel the ground beneath his feet. Then he can hear the rain pouring outside their house and feel the thunder rumble in his bones.
Then he can see Stacy.
He longs for the brush of her lips against his own. He can still feel her if he concentrates hard enough. How her lips, stained red from the lipstick she’d been applying when Chase had interrupted her, would curl into a smile. How the bubbly laughter that fell from those lips made Chase’s eyes light up like the neon signs that hung on the window outside the laundromat they went to when they’d first moved in together.
Chase rolls over so he’s lying on his back, rather than his side. He’s aware that he’s going to have to crawl out from the warmth of his bed soon. He’s awake, has been staring out into the expanse of space and stars and nothing beside him for a few minutes already. The only thing between Chase and all that nothing is a thick layer of glass. It’s only when another memory of Stacy and the kids begins to gnaw at him that he decides it’s time to stop moping.
He stretches his arms high above his head, fingers curling as his back wails in agony. Chapped lips part in a long, drawn out yawn, and the fabric of the white t-shirt he’s wearing is tugged upwards, revealing a bit of the pale skin of his stomach to the empty, cold air of the Morrígan.
His bare feet tap on the floor as he makes his way towards the common room. He knows he’s not the first one awake— the bed tucked into the wall to the left of his own had been empty, which means that Henrik’s also awake, at least.
Chase doesn’t like being alone, here, on the Morrígan. Space is already so empty, so devoid of anything, and he wants to spend as little time alone as he can.
As expected, Henrik’s sitting at the table in the common room. He can smell the other man’s coffee from the other side of the room— it’s practically strong enough to wake Chase up without him even having to drink any. With how much caffeine Henrik gets into his system on a daily basis, it’s a surprise he ever manages to fall asleep at all.
The bags under his eyes, visible behind the thin-rimmed, circular glasses he wears, would make Chase wonder if he ever does sleep. He’s heard the man snore, though, so he knows for a fact that the man can sleep. Unfortunately.
He watches as Henrik pushes the glasses up the bridge of his nose with his middle finger. The glasses look incredibly large on his face, and, without the beard, Chase is positive he’d look like a little kid.
An angry, yelling kid, but a kid, nonetheless.
The chair Henrik’s sitting on has been pulled out so he can prop his socked feet up onto the table. Chase would scrunch his nose up at the sight of his feet on the table— they eat there, for Christ’s sake— if it weren’t for the look on Henrik’s face. There’s something somber about the sight of him. Something that nearly makes him forget what he’d have been scrunching his nose up at in the first place.
Chase doesn’t want to be the one to break the silence.
His own selfish need to not be alone right now gets the better of him, though, and he continues to step into the common room. He yawns again, as he walks, but he stifles the noise behind the back of his hand this time. As Chase nears the table, the other man looks up. His feet slide off the table and smack onto the floor with a thud.
He decides to not think too much about the thing the other man is cradling in his hands— hiding from him, Chase realizes— or the glassy, wet look in his eyes.
Looks like they’d both been reminiscing this morning.
“Good morning, Brody,” Henrik’s voice is strained, and it’s gruffer than usual. His accent is thick, like a fog concealing any emotion that would’ve normally been surrounding his words. Chase continues to stare into red-rimmed eyes, and he doesn’t look away until Henrik averts his gaze back down to the mug on the table in front of him.
Chase walks past the table, towards the counter where the coffee pot is. BB, Commander Marvin’s cat, is sprawled out on the counter. He pets the cat’s head, gently, before pulling a mug down from the cabinet. He pours the murky, black liquid into the cup, and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline when the smell of overly strong coffee wafts up and smacks him in the face.
“Mornin’.” He turns his body around so he’s facing Henrik— who’s now holding his coffee mug with his right hand. If his grip was any tighter, Chase is pretty sure the cup would shatter. He brings his own mug up to his lips so he can blow on the liquid to cool it down. When he takes a sip, it leaves a bad aftertaste on his tongue. He continues, “D’you sleep okay, Hen?”
Henrik nods.
The bags under his eyes beg to differ, but Chase won’t press him— not today. Today’s rough for the both of them.
Rather than pulling out another chair, he sits on top of the table to Henrik’s right. He places his coffee cup beside his thigh, where he’ll most likely forget about it until he pours it down the drain. The German’s eyes flicker up to his. Once their eyes meet, Chase asks, “Are the others awake?”
Henrik hums around the coffee on his tongue. He swallows the drink before he says, “Jackson is awake. Saw him heading to the showers a couple of minutes before you got up.”
“How about Captain and Tennille?” Marvin and Jackie.
“Been listening to Jackson’s old records, again, have you?”
“His music taste is exquisite.” He says, deadpan. When Henrik laughs, a grin forms across Chase’s lips. “Do you plan on answerin’ my question, or am I gonna have to find them myself?”
Henrik’s eyes are practically glowing behind his glasses, and a small smirk is playing on his lips, “Ah, yes. I think those two are doing quite alright.” It’s Chase’s turn to laugh. It’s a loud sort of noise that erupts from his throat. Henrik continues, his own laughter causing him to stumble over his words, “If you— if you know what I mean.”
Chase, of course, knows exactly what Henrik means.
Marvin, commander of the Morrígan, and Jackie have been dating for some time. The only reason the rest of the crew knows at all is because poor Jameson had walked in on them a month into the mission. It had taken weeks for Chase to get any details out of him, but it was worth it.
They sit there, together, for a few minutes. Their smiles are still plastered to their faces, and their cheeks are flushed pink from laughter. It’s quiet, now, but it isn’t uncomfortable. It’s comforting, in a way.
The word Chase is looking for is bittersweet.
He takes another sip of his coffee. As he lowers the cup from his lips, his eyes flicker back to Henrik. The other man opens his mouth to speak.
“Brody—” Chase’s last name spills from Henrik’s parted lips. The other man’s eyebrows press together above his eyes as he struggles to find the words he wants. He blinks a couple times, and when he opens his mouth again a small noise forms in his throat.
Before Henrik can get another word out, though, he’s interrupted by SAM, the Morrígan’s AI system.
SAM’s voice echoes through the common room. It’s calm, mechanical. There’s something interesting in the way their voice is able to bend and contort itself around each syllable, while still maintaining zero emotion. Chase’s eyes widen as he tries to comprehend the words, and Henrik appears to be struggling to understand as well.
His voice is shaking, slightly, when he says, “Can you repeat that, please, SAM?”
There’s an incoming distress signal from Vishpala II.
Chase pushes himself into a standing position with his palms. The floor is cold, unforgiving, on his bare feet. Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see that Henrik’s standing as well. The lock eyes, for just a second.
His coffee cup, as well as Henrik’s, are left, forgotten, on the table.
In the blink of an eye, the two men are walking towards the front of the Morrígan— towards the cockpit. They’re walking briskly, and the taps their feet are making against the floor are audible.
For only a crew of five people, The Morrígan is big. In times like this, Chase wishes it were smaller.
In-between the common room and the cockpit is the bathrooms. Jackson’s standing at the door, eyes wide as he watches Chase and Henrik near him. His hair is still wet from his shower, and the sleeves of the shirt he’s wearing are rolled up to his elbows. He must not have been able to hear SAM in the shower, because the towel he has thrown over his forearm sways as he signs, What’s going on?
Beside him, Henrik hastily signs back an answer. He speaks as he signs, “One of ISRO’s has trouble.”
Jackson turns to toss the towel into the bathroom, lacking the time to care for where it lands. He exits the bathroom and follows after them, having to sprint to catch up.
Marvin and Jackie are already in the cockpit. Marvin’s got their arms folded across their chest, and they twist their head to nod at Chase and the others when they step into the room. Jackie’s leaning over the computer, typing something that Chase can’t make out from where he’s standing.
Chase turns his attention back to Marvin. “Commander?”
“No one’s been able to contact any of the crew on Vishpala II for weeks.” They sign as they speak, and they back up slowly so they’re standing beside Jackie at the computers. “Not us and not anybody back home, either.”
Strange, Jameson signs.
Marvin hums in agreement, before continuing, “Folks at home have asked us to check it out. We’re nearby, after all. All we have to do is make sure everything’s alright.”
“Make sure everybody is alive.” Henrik adds.
The commander looks solemn at his addition, though they don’t deny it.
“Jackson, prepare the ship for any survivors.” Out of the corners of his eyes, Chase can see him nod. He exits the cockpit through the door they’d entered through together a few moments before. Marvin turns to look at Jackie, who’s still standing at the computer beside them, “Give me the exact location of the Vishpala II.” Another nod.
“Brody, Schneeplestein.” There’s something apologetic in the press of Marvin’s lips, and Chase almost doesn’t want them to speak. He already knows what they’re going to say. “Happy Father’s Day.”
—
From the outside, the Vishpala II looks perfectly normal. There’s no visible damage on the exterior of the ship, and there’s nothing that stands out as inherently wrong at all. Despite this, Chase knows that something isn’t right.
Although the other ship had sent out a distress signal, no one aboard Vishpala II had responded when Marvin and Chase had tried to contact them again. They’d received no response when they’d informed the other crew that they were going to connect— and then board— their ship.
There was only silence.
It had been deafening.
While Henrik and Jameson were busy preparing the Morrígan for any possible injured members of the other ship’s crew, Chase was left in the cockpit with Marvin and Jackie. The moment they’d connected the ships together, he’d volunteered to go. Jackie had quickly said that he’d go as well, though Marvin seemed far more hesitant to let him go than they had Chase.
He’d left the cockpit after that, as to give Marvin and Jackie some privacy.
The walk to the airlock had been quiet, uneventful.
If it hadn’t been for his heart hammering away in his chest, Chase might’ve been able to forget about the Vishpala II, as well as the ship’s crew. He might’ve been able to drown out the sound of Marvin’s and Jackie’s hushed argument behind him. But he can’t.
Chase veers to the left, and he’s standing at the airlock door. There’s a keypad on the wall beside it. He quickly smashes four of the buttons, his eyes unfocused, before he clicks the little, green circle at the bottom. There’s a long beep, followed by a loud, whirring noise, and then the door is sliding open. He steps into the airlock, and the door shuts behind him with a click.
He’s halfway through putting on his spacesuit— one of three total on the Morrígan— when the airlock door opens again. Chase turns his head to stare at Jackie, who steps inside with a small nod. Silently, Jackie begins to put on his own suit.
Chase notices the tear tracks on the other man’s cheeks, though he decides against mentioning it.
For the second time, the door slides shut.
They continue to put on their suits. Jackie’s gaze keeps flickering from his suit and up to the door opposite the one they’d entered through. After he repeats the action a few times, he murmurs, “Vishpala’s on the other side, huh?”
Chase hums, and he stands. He grabs a helmet from the shelf behind him and places it onto his head. The visor lights up, showing Chase his vitals, as well as the temperature and oxygen levels outside the suit.
When he turns his head back to Jackie, the other man is putting on his helmet as well. His visor lights up, and then he’s standing next to Chase.
Jackie tilts his head— the way he imagines a puppy might— and lifts his gloved fist up to the space in-between the two of them. A grin spreads across his lips when he says, “Good luck in there, bro average.” His tone is light, but Chase can see through it. He’s scared. They both are.
Chase knocks his own fist against Jackie’s.
”Right back at ya.” His voice is shaky, though he tries his best to twist his lips together into a small smile.
Chase takes a couple steps forward, so he’s standing in front of the keypad of the other side of the airlock. He sucks in a long, shaky breath through slightly parted lips, and then he’s inputting the code. There’s a long beep, just like before, and then the door lets out a buzz. Chase can feel the noise in his bones, and in the way his stomach drops.
The door slides open and the two men are met with darkness. The lights from the airlock flood into the other ship, coating everything it can reach in a golden glow.
Jackie, despite being behind Chase, is the first to step onto the Vishpala II.
“Oxygen levels are stable,” Jackie murmurs, though he doesn’t remove his helmet.
Chase steps onto the Vishpala II.
The airlock door slides shut behind them, and then they’re in darkness.
Besides his own breathing, as well as Jackie’s, the ship is silent. And for a ship with a crew of seven people— seven people who no one has been able to contact for weeks— something about the calmness is wrong. Chase motions to the left side of the hallway before tapping his chest with gloved fingers. Jackie nods his head, once, before tilting his head to the right and pointing at himself.
He starts walking down the hall, which curves slightly to the right as it goes. He’s moving slowly, as though if he went any faster he’d get lost in the shadows. When he glances over his shoulder, he can see Jackie walking the other way, at the other end of the hall.
Most of the doors in the hallway are locked, but Chase peers his head into the few rooms that he can get into. All the rooms are empty, and if it weren’t for the fact that the ship is a mess, Chase would’ve assumed no one had ever been aboard the Vishpala II at all.
After a few minutes, he finds another room that he can get into. With, Chase steps into the room. It’s a lounge, of sorts— similar to the common room on the Morrígan. There are chairs thrown about the room, and there’s a table propped up against one of the doors to Chase’s left.
He takes another step into the room, still only a few feet from the door he’s entered through.
There’s a chair on the ground in front of him, but there’s something behind it that Chase’s eyes are stuck on. Admittedly, it takes him a few moments to realize what it is. When he does realize, however, he stares at it, eyes wide and unblinking.
Blood.
It’s blood.
His eyes drift upwards, slowly, so he’s staring at something else.
There’s a figure standing in the center of the room. It’s hidden by shadows, and Chase can’t make anything out in the dark. There’s a faint, blue outline around it, and two little, glowing dots at the top of the figure.
Eyes.
Chase continues to stare at it, he doesn’t think he could look away if he wanted to.
He’s losing his mind, he’s sure of it. He’s seeing thing that aren’t really there.
Chase backs out of the room, slowly. His eyes never leave the figure in the shadows.
Distantly, to his left, he hears Jackie scream.
“Brody!”
The thing’s face— or, at least, what Chase assumes is a face— turns. It slowly twists to the side, towards the direction where Jackie had screamed. A strangled gasp is torn from Chase’s throat. He nearly falls backwards in his haste to get to Jackie, to get away.
Chase has never run so fast in his life. His eyes are so wide, he can’t see— fuck, it’s so dark. His breathing’s so loud it’s drowning out the sound of his footsteps. He’d call out for Jackie, but his throat isn’t working.
He passes the airlock.
He finds Jackie standing in the middle of the hallway. When he’s within reach, he grabs onto his shoulders, whether it’s in an attempt to ground himself or to get Jackie’s attention, he doesn’t know. There’s a thousand words on Chase’s tongue, but he can’t speak.
Jackie won’t make eye contact. He won’t look away from the door in front of him.
With a gloved hand, Chase pushes the door open.
There, on the other side of the door, is the crew of Vishpala II.
They’re dead.
/ / /
tagslist: @spudmcloughlin @immabethehero @dreamerr-art @bupine @florenceisfalling @kfjack @anxiousghostie
#jacksepticeye#writersofjack#fanfic#milo writes#my writing#chase brody#henrik von schneeplestein#marvin the magnificent#jackieboy man#the morrigan#blood tw#death tw#horror#angst#marvelsepticeye
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Bubble Wednesday 2
For my lovely @translucent-bisexual to whom I promised a second part and for all of you as an early V-day gift here is a second non expected part two of the Bubble serie ♥️
Also tagging : @cherishingstydia @felicitous-one @diazbuckleysworld @chrrlees @gxtop @impossiblealice @hardychick89
Word count : 1572
Song : Lover - Taylor Swift
It was Saturday night, usually Saturday night rhymed with superheroes movies marathon, greasy snacks, candies and diet coke, it also rhymed with pillow forts and staying up late until 1 am, they loved Saturday night, they lived for it, it was a Diaz-Buckley family tradition, but ever since the engagement announcement Saturday night became wedding night planning, which meant that Chris was in bed earlier, which also meant that their home was invaded by three crazy bridemaidzillas (aka Maddie, Pepa and abuela), they were usually there from 7pm to 11pm, and even though at first they hadn’t mind the help, quite the opposite,but right now Buck couldn’t take it anymore and the more Saturday they spent tearing his ears off with wedding stuff the more he found himself losing patience and faking to enjoy their presence.
Yes he was unexperienced in everything that came close to wedding preparation, it wasn’t his fault though he’d never pictured himself getting married one day, always believing that he was too much of a disaster to be marriage material, it wasn’t until Eddie that he believed he could have his happily ever after too, still when he pictured what being married looked like he always imagined that it was something quaint, peaceful and quiet like Eddie and his relationship.
Right now the bridemaidzillas were arguing about tablecloths color when he decided that enough was enough, he loved them, he truly loved them but each and every one had its own limits and for Buck those were tablecloths.
Plus he missed Eddie, missed their alone time , they needed a break, needed to find each other back, needed to take back their wedding.
Eddie was patiently waiting the end of his shift playing candy crush when the message notification popped out signaling a new text from Buck, he chuckled as he read the two words he’d been dreaming of for weeks now, Buck was asking for ‘‘Bubble Wednesday’’ and Eddie was surprised that he’d stuck as long as he did with those three.
~ ‘‘That bad” he texted back waiting patiently for the three little dots to transform into a text, which he was sure would be entertaining.
~ “Maddie is asking Pepa if you can lift me like Patrick Swayze in dirty dancing” Buck replied adding lot of emoji’s to show him how desperate he was to get out of the usual Saturday wedding planning .
~”Cherry and strawberries” he sent back even though he was more entitled by vanilla candles and monoi soap with the day he had, his shift had been beyond difficult between three houses fires caused by people smoking inside and almost losing a kid because of the smoke inhalation he just wanted to come home and relax with his favorite scents.
~”Nah, vanilla and monoi this time” Buck replied, Eddie smiled at his phone a bit awed that Buck had knew right away what he needed, though after all this time he knew he shouldn’t be, even before they started dating Buck always seemed to read him perfectly.
Buck found himself smiling while absent mildly caressing his locker screen, it was a picture of Chris, Eddie and him at their engagement party two months ago, it was the only thing that could make him feel calm and peaceful enough the past few days, and more so on Saturdays.
He remember how they had been unaware of Hen taking their picture until she had texting it to him, that pictures was his treasure, it was the embodiment of happiness for him, it was just him and his boys dressed in white and goofing around with cupcakes.
He remembered the engagement party, it had been simple, just them, their close friends and family, when Athena and Bobby had surprised them with it they had been so happy, so grateful, he remembered how he naively exclaimed that he wanted the same thing for their wedding totally ignoring that by saying this out loud chaos would ensue, immediately after his declaration Pepa, Maddie and abuela volunteered themselves to make that silly dream happen and now two months later he was stuck in his living-room suffering his bridemaidzillas bickering about tuxedos color, this was where the line had definitely been crossed as Eddie and him had already picked what the three of them were going to wear that day, he reminded himself that he loved those women but right now they needed to go.
-Eddie is on his way, he announced cutting short their quarrel before being interrupted by Pepa.
-Perfect, she smiled looking at her two stooges, that way Edmundo would tell us if he prefer a black and boring tuxedo or the blue one I picked for him, she babbled happily.
-Girls, Buck sighed pitching the bridge of his nose, he’s on his way and clearly not in the mood, he got a really rough shift and he wants to sleep it off, he half lied.
-Oh alright, Maddie smiled squeezing his hand in understanding, we’ll see ourselves out then, she added kissing his cheek, take care of him and see you next Saturday, she singsang followed by the two older women.
Buck closed the door sighing in relief after he made sure they were really gone, he then sent a quick text to Eddie telling him that the coast was clear, before he went on to prepare everything for their first ‘‘Bubble Wednesday’’ as an engaged pair.
It was close to midnight when Eddie finally came home from his shift, saying he was tired would have been an understatement, he was beat but also hyped to see what kind of ‘‘Bubble Wednesday’’ Buck organized for him, the hype lasted for five seconds though as his parked his car he noticed that all the lights were off inside and wondered if it meant that Buck had to cancel their little rendezvous.
He trudged to the door bummed and sad at the perspective to come home to a silent house and sleeping Buck, almost forgetting how his fiancé loved surprise and even more surprising him, the bad mood and sadness quickly left him the minute he opened the door to find a trail of white and pink roses petal on the floor illuminated by the trembling light of his favorites vanilla candles.
He hastily threw his duffel on the sofa and followed the path in eager anticipation, he quickly made his way to their bathroom and had to repress a laugh at the sight of Buck already in the tub his chest covered in glittered shaped heart, a red roses between his teeth while he wiggled his brows seductively at him.
-Took you long enough, he stated suavely tending him the rose.
-Would you rather I’d come sooner leaving you no time to prepare everything, Eddie retorted taking the flower and bending to kiss his forehead.
-Once again you’re no fun, he pouted.
-Oh I’m no fun, he questioned stopping his undressing, I guess that I’ll shower alone then, he shrugged laughing when Buck started to growl.
-You better get your pretty ass in that tub or so god help me.
-There, there, he chuckled getting rid of his pant and joining him in the tub.
He let himself melt against Buck strong and glittered chest, the blond held him tightly against him brushing his hair with the tip of his nose, he then started to move his hand up and down his back, he felt something cold ,rubbed on it and instantly knew that Buck was using the oil he got them for V-day, he was making small circles with his thumbs, untangling the knot in his back, making moan in delight, he felt the pressure leave his body and for the first time in two months he felt himself relax, gone were the bridemaidzillas impromptu calls, gone was the extravagant wedding mess, it was just him and Buck, it was finally peaceful and quiet.
-God I missed this so much, he moaned feeling himself melt a bit more under Buck’s professional touch.
-What the back rub or me, he joked kissing his temple.
-Both, Eddie chuckled, past few months had been hectic, he groaned meeting the blond eyes, felt like we only crossed path, he added, I missed you.
-I know, I missed you too, Buck sighed, wedding stuff are getting a bit out of hand.
-That putting it nicely.
-You know what, Buck mused.
-No what, Eddie mumbled fearing where it was going
-We should elope, he declared matter of factly his eyes gleaming with excitement
-I think we should address your tendencies for naked proposition, Eddie joked biting his lips
-I’m being serious Edmundo, Buck pouted
-Yeah?
-Yes, he breathed softly taking Eddie’s face in his hands, that wedding extravaganza it isn’t us at all, he croaked, we don’t need lilac tablecloth or some hipster band Maddie found god know where...
-Lilac tablecloth, Eddie interrupted
-Yes lilac, Buck gasped in fake horror, but seriously Ed what do you say?
-Just us and Chris, he demanded, gaining an eager nod from the younger man, and you’ll deal with the three musketeer’s wrath
-Yes, yes and yes, Buck giggled, as long as we get married in our own way and as long as become Evan Diaz faster then I’ll deal with everything, he beamed
-Evan Diaz, Eddie smiled softly, it have a nice ring, he breathed kissing him lovingly.
#buddie fluff#fluff#buddie#bubble wednesday#buck x eddie#eddie x buck#eddie diaz#evan buckley#911fic#911onfox#tv:911
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Write Christmas Day 5:
Request:Can there be a richie x daughter x the loser club where she feels insecure? Stan and eddie are both alive and reddie is happening and stan is being the cool sarcastic uncle. Just where everyone is trying to cheer her up :))) i love your work
A/N: woah, am I tired. This was kind of tough and is totally not based on actual events that traumatised the author for all eternity. Ah yes, fuck, I need me some losers to tell me that I‘m fucking amazing, thanks. I hope you like this, if not, hit me up and I‘ll redo it! Enjoy!
Anxious eyes travelled over her own figure in the mirror, covered in clothing spotting the most hideous, vibrant colours. Her teeth bit down on her lip on their own accord, trying hard to fight back the tears.
Rolls stood out where they shouldn’t be, bumps, just overall nothing that might look remotely like anyone could like it. Including her. And her crush who had laughed at her when one of their friends caught the two standing under a mistletoe, claiming that she wasn’t even close to their standards. Luckily, it was the last day of school before christmas and Y/N looked forward to spending the longest time in her bed, hiding away under the covers, avoiding all sorts of human contact.
She looked at her face and all she could see were imperfections. Pimples, scars, pores standing out, blackheads, something about her nose seemed off, now that she looked at it, and her teeth didn’t look the prettiest-
“Y/N, honey, are you almost ready? The Losers will be here soon.” one of her fathers told her through the door. Eddie. She smiled a little, before shouting back that she would be ready in a few. Followed by that, she threw off the hideous christmas sweater that was way too tight, as people in school had told her, and instead put on the baggiest sweatshirt she could find. It was one of Richie’s, merchandise from one of his first shows, and in a simple black colour. But most importantly, it hid the most part of her body comfortably. Red-white and blue leggings with a christmas print were exchanged for simple black ones, and even the christmas socks were exchanged into the simplest pair she could find in her closet.
Y/N was just heading out of her room, downstairs to snatch a snack from the kitchen when she heard a gasp from behind her.
“How dare you?” Richie asked, mockingly shocked. “How dare you walk around in something that is not screaming Christmas today of all days?!”
As she faced her old man, Y/N shrugged, not up for a homely therapy session. Richie and Eddie had a habit of sitting her down and telling her how pretty or how amazing she was when she was feeling down, but she had to talk about her own feelings first and that usually involved crying and exhaustion and she was really not feeling ready for that when the Losers could literally arrive at any moment.
“Just not in the mood, sorry dad.” she replied, continuing her way downstairs, making a sharp turn short before the kitchen. Maybe a snack wasn’t the best idea. Not when she felt that way about herself.
Richie watched her go, concerned with the sudden change he saw in her. That morning, Y/N had been so incredibly excited to walk out with her christmas clothing and the knowledge that the Losers were visiting to celebrate christmas with the Tozier-Kaspbraks had her giddy for weeks.
With a heavy heart, Richie went to look for his husband, placing a gentle kiss on the smaller man’s cheek as he was busy fixing snacks before Richie went to rest his head on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie sighed, a small smile on his lips as he didn’t let his husband distract him.
“What’s wrong, Rich?” Eddie asked teasingly.
“Why would you think something’s wrong?”
“You’re my husband and I know you better than you think, dumbass.”
A breathy chuckle escaped Richie’s lips. With a swift movement, he stole a cookie from the jar, then fled the kitchen, knowing that Eddie was very likely to throw a fit as soon as he saw Richie with the christmas cookie stuffed in his mouth.
Just as he was about to join his pouting daughter in the living room, the doorbell rang for the first time that evening. And over the course of the next hour, all the Losers had arrived, ready to spend the rest of the day with all sorts of snacks and movies. Y/N, meanwhile, had sneaked back into her room, determined not to face any of the people she dreaded at the moment.
She didn’t think she would be able to look at Bev, looking effortlessly flawless. Or Ben who was undeniably attractive. Not just to Bev. And the overall happiness was just too much for her. Everything was too much.
But she couldn’t stay in her room forever. Eddie, being the mother hen he was, made her leave her room for dinner.
“Y/N, w-we missed y-you d-d-during the m-movie.” Bill smiled at the girl.
“Sorry, I’m not feeling too hot.” Y/N mumbled in return, gaze fixed on the food on her plate.
“Really? Because this morning you were up before Eddie. And I don’t think that shit has ever happened before.” Richie suddenly commented, voice altered to sound like the Irish Cop.
“I ate something wrong in school.”
“Are you alright, honey? Give me a second, I’ll-” Eddie started, immediately jumping up but he was pulled to sit back down by his husband.
“Cut the shit, Y/N.” Stan said. “I haven’t come all the way here to see you moping around. I want to see my fake-niece.”
Y/N threw her fork back down on the table, pushing her chair back and quickly getting up. She stormed towards the door, dodging Bev’s attempts at getting a hold of her and left the room. But not before throwing a ‘Fuck this shit.’ at the group.
The Losers looked at one another, frozen in shock, none of them really knowing what had just happened.
Meanwhile, Y/N darkened the room, let her exhausted body fall to her bed and pulled the covers up to her face. Everything was just too much. And so, she cried. Sobbing and sniffling and coughing. Her pillow was wet with tears when she heard a clicking sound coming from the door and just a second later, the bright light from the hallway entered the room. One after another, the Losers entered the room, all moving to either sit or stand by her side.
“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Ben asked, worry very much present.
“If this is because of what I said-” Stan started, but was rudely interrupted.
“It’s not because of you, uncle Stan.” Y/N mumbled, sitting up slowly. Her hands landed in her lap as her dad’s sat down on either side of her, grabbing a hand each.
“Then what is it?”
“I just had a rough day. People were making fun of my clothes, my best friend ditched our promise to dress up in our ugliest christmas sweaters, and- and… My crush refused to kiss me under the mistletoe because I’m not pretty enough.” Y/N finally admitted.
“Oh honey…” Eddie said, immediately embracing his daughter, pulling her close to his chest as she let go.
“Y/n, you are amazing just the way you are. You are absolutely stunning. I even refused to believe that Richie’s your father because you’re so pretty.” Bev told the girl, knowing the insecurities that gnawed on her inside.
“Hey!” Richie threw in, ending up ignored.
“It doesn’t matter what other people think of your clothes as long as you’re happy. When I was your age, all I had were old shirts from other family members. Other kids also made fun of me. But I had my Losers who stuck with me.” Mike argued.
“Your looks don’t define you. Even after I lost weight, I was still the same Loser as before.” Ben threw in.
“A-a-and l-love takes t-time. L-look a-at R-R-Richie and Eddie.I-It took them t-twenty-s-seven years and a k-killer clown to f-f-find love.”
And so, it went on. Each of the Losers argued against the negative things the young girl would utter. Until her tears were finally dried and a smile was etched on her face.
“Hey, Richie, you don’t happen to still have that bat you beat the clown with when we were kids, do you?” Stan suddenly asked, filling the room with laughter.
#richie tozier fanfic#richie tozier x daughter reader#richie tozier x daughter!reader#richie tozier x reader#richie tozier#reddie#reddie x reader#eddie kaspbrak fanfic#eddie kaspbrak x daughter reader#eddie kaspbrak x daughter!reader#eddie kaspbrak x reader#losers club x reader#losers club x daughter!reader#selinas advent calendar#selinas writing challenge#write christmas
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Match up (｡◕‿◕｡)
mg Hi 😅
I read through some of your matchups and I love them! So I like to ask one myself now. It’s my first time actually asking for a matchup so I hope im doing it right.
So I’m a 5'3 female and I’m cruvy (proud of my curves) long dark blonde hair and blue-grey eyes. The mbti test said I’m a INTJ but I doubt it😂. I’m pretty shy and quite around strangers but once I opened up after some time I’m really funny, sarcastic and I like to play pranks on my family and my friends. I have a strong personality and I say what I think and state my opinion but at the samw time I cry pretty easily (you could say I’m a crybaby 😅). I’m always there for my friends when they need help or advice. In social situations I get really really nervous and my voice gets shaky. I hate injustice and will always stand up for the people I care about. I would say I’m kind, nice and polite in front of strangers but very quiet. I can get stressed easily and I am not a pleasant person when stressed. I get angry and pissed of real quick. I curse a lot… Like everyday but it gets worse when I’m stressed or annoyed 😅. But anyways I love music, I especially love to sing (I kinda sing every day 😂). I like to read, right now I a book about solved and unsolved crimes, besides that I lile to watch Netflix. I prefer a quiet relaxing night watching Netflix or reading a book over go to parties. I love to learn new languages at the moment I learn dutch in school. I really love history, true crime, horror, languages and psychology. After school I want to either study History or criminology. I absolutely hate group projects but if I have to work in a group, I always take the lead and can get quite bossy. I had a rough childhood I don’t trust men easily because of some things that happend and I’m scared of getting hurt once I fall in love. Oh and I’m pretty clumsy, I don’t get hurt everyday but at least three times a week or so😂
Ooff I didn’t wanted this to be so long😂
Okey, I think that’s it ☺️ I apologize for my english it’s not my first language 😅. Take your time ☺️ you don’t need to hurry
Thank you so much. I really look forward to the matchup☺️😂 And I wish you a nice day (or night)
Hi hi, love! Hope you are doing well, thanks so much for the request! I hope you enjoy it! Hehe sorry for taking so long! I had so much fun writing this up for ya!
So I Match you with…………… Mitsuhide
The first time Mitsuhide saw you, he was captivated by your long blond hair and blue-grey eyes. Like all this boy wanted to do way play with your hair…. And that was exactly what he did. After war council, when you were named as the new Oda princess, he walked up to you and took a stand of your long hair between his fingers and started twirling it. It was so sold and silky. Of course as per the standard procedure for the sneki boi he started teasing you while playing with your hair, which made your face break out into the most beautiful blush. TBH Mitsuhide didn’t mind that you were shy, in fact, he loved it, as every day he would run into you and tease you mercilessly just to see your facial expressions… He would always smile his sneki boi smile at you when you would try your best to make conversation with him, he couldn’t help but tease you a little for the way your voice shook out of nervousness.
It took you a while to warm up and get talking to the people around you luckily for you, Mitsuhide took you under his wing. He would always be there to back you up whenever Hideyoshi would suspect you, or scold you. One day as Hideyoshi was micromanaging you yet again, Mitsuhide popped out of nowhere to come to your aid. He knew you weren’t a spy and that the reason you never really spoke much, was because you were shy. Hideyoshi was convinced the nervous shake in your voice whenever you interacted with him was because you were scared of him finding out your true identity. It wasn’t until you started tearing up midway through yet another accusation session, that the mama bear realised that you weren’t a spy, but a sweet kind shy girl who was just too nervous about being put into a new situation and having to interact with new people.
At the sight of your tears, Mitsuhide gave Hideyoshi an icy glare and led you away to your room. “Its alright little mouse, there is no reason to be shy or afraid of us, much less of the mother hen,” He then used his sleeve to gently wipe away your tears while giving you a small pat on the head
It was also then when he announced that he was your new teacher. Nobunaga had put him in charge of you to make sure you would get well adapted to the castle life and the runnings of things, as you see Nobunaga had also noticed that you were a bit shy and wanted to make things a little easier for you. Especially after he had witnessed you breaking out into tears at Hideyoshi’s scolding session. Honesty what was this Mitsuhide going to do with you, you were honestly just too cute.
Mitsuhide taught you everything from a few fighting moves, to subjects such as Politics and economics. As the two of you spent more and more time together, this sneki boi just couldn’t help but fall madly in love with you. You were truly a curious creature, he even loved how clumsy you were. Your clumsiness even had mama bear worried for you, as you were the type to trip on flat ground or accidentally bump yourself against the sharp corners of tables. It was also due to your accident-prone clumsiness that the Kitsune would insist on holding your hand whenever the two of you would go out to the market together, especially after a certain incident.
It was a warm sunny day, and you and Mitsu decided to take a break from your economics lesson and go into town for some tea. You were happily chatting with Mitsuhide when all of a sudden you tripped over a small rock. You tumbled forward and fell straight towards the road. As you looked up, you saw a horse, headed straight towards you, and your life flashed in front of your eyes. You squeezed them shut and braced for impact. Yet the fall never came, and you were never trampled by the oncoming horse. You curiously opened one eye to see two extremely worried golden orbs staring back at you. Mitushide had caught your waist and snaked his arms around you, and your body was now flush against you as he cradled you protectively in his arms, “Just what am I to do with you, my clumsy little mouse.” He smirked down at you, and you broke out into the biggest blush, the two of you were so close, and your heart was beating out of your chest. Mitsuhide released you from the warm embrace and wrapped his large hand around your smaller one while smiling at you, “This way, I can protect you from your own clumsiness little one; honestly, I can’t believe the mother hen through a sweet, clumsy little mouse like you could ever be a deadly assassin.”
As time passed, you found yourself opening up more and more the Kitsune, and soon you revealed your true personality to him. It happened one day as he was teasing you over a cup of tea. What he didn’t expect was for you to make a playfully sarcastic comeback, this boi was shook. Finally, it was your turn to smile triumphantly at the small blush now forming on Mitsu’s cheeks. “What is it Mitsu, you like to play with fire but can’t take the heat.” Mitsuhide recovered quickly, and soon the two of you were playfully flinging sarcastic comments at each other, he really enjoyed this side of you. What he loved, even more, was that it was a side that you showed him and him only. The more he discovered about your personality, the more he fell head over heels for you. Like how you enjoyed pulling pranks on people.
The two of you often teamed up during banquets to prank your new warlord friends, it wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to be caught in fits of laughter at a prank well executed. The oda forces were always shook to see Mitsuhide genuinely laughing and smiling whenever he was around you, but honestly, he couldn’t help it, you were absolutely hilarious. Your jokes had him clenching his stomach in uncontrollable laughter, who would suspect that such a shy little creature would be so full of delightful surprises.
Honestly at this point, you were also head over heels for sneki boi, after what had happened in your past, you were scared and hurt and it took you a long time to trust Mitsuhide, but you knew he was the one. This Kitsune managed to sneak past the wall you had built around your heart and made himself right at home. At this point, Mitsuhide thought he had seen every side of his beloved mouse, but boy was he wrong.
As the two of you were walking hand in hand to your favourite tea house, a shopkeeper had waved Mitsu over to talk business. You gave Mitsuhide a reassuring smile and said that you would sit over on the bench across the street and wait for him. He was a little reluctant, but after you gave him a reassuring smile, he decided to solve the problem as quick as humanly possible, so that he could get back to giving you his undivided attention. You sat down on the bench and looked up at the sky when you heard some lesser warlords talk about Mitsuhide. You strained your ears to hear what they were saying. They were busy speaking very poorly of the man you loved and were busy spreading false rumours. You honestly hated injustice, especially when it was aimed towards those who you held dear.
You stood up and walked over to them, you gave them a piece of your mind, when things started to escalate. Mitsuhide heard the commotion, and when he turned his head to look for you, he found you pissed off and swearing at the group of men. His eyes widened, he had never expected such language to come out of his dearest mouse’s mouth. Although soon his shock morphed into a curious smile, that was just like you, to surprise him with something new out of nowhere. He walked a bit closer intending to pull you out of the situation, when you had confessed your love for him during the heated debate with the men. HE was shocked, you loved him?
After regaining his composure from the sudden confession he sneakily made his way up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. When the men had spotted the kitsune they ran for the hills, it was one thing talking badly about him behind his back but to his face… They knew Mitsuhide was a dangerous man, and they definitely didn’t want to make an enemy of him. You were so confused at the men just running off when you felt Mitsuhide wrap his arms around you, “Could you repeat that last statement you had made little mouse, I’m afraid I was too far away to hear it correctly, as I think my ears have been playing tricks on me.” You were now blushing profusely, you slowly turned around in his arms, not daring to look him in the eye when you muttered a small “I love you.” You didn’t even have time to react when this boy had your lips captured in a heated kiss. As he pulled away, he whispered those words you had longed to hear from him for a long time “I love you to my precious clumsy beautiful little mouse.”
The two of you made the cutest couple, and Mitsuhide would spend every moment of his free time with you. He loved learning new things about you, like how you would sing every day. He loved your voice, and how that soft, soothing melody would fill his room and instantly wash away the exhaustion of his day. Often he would just stand and listen to you softly sing as you worked and he would let those soft words piece through him and melt away his tiredness before moving on to his next meeting. Other times he would trap you in his arms and gently stroke your hair while insisting you sing a song for him.
When he found out you were a fan of criminology and used to watch and read books about crimes and unsolved cases he was over the moon. His speciality was basically solving puzzles and stopping bad guys that wanted to hurt his friends. You loved It when he would tell you stories of his latest mission uncovering the assassin’s motives and stopping them, you even managed to give some input as to where potential evidence could be hidden. Mitsuhide loved the way your eyes lit up when he would tell you about past missions he worked on, that was particularly tricky. Finally, he had found a woman that loved him for him, who had an interest in his life and that never judged him but accepted him with open arms.
Both of your are creatures of comfort and quiet, so it is not uncommon for the two of you to be nestled up in each other’s arms each doing your own things. You would rest your head on his chest and read while he would have his chin propped up to rest on your shoulder, while his arm was snaked around your waist as he would write his reports. Ever so often, he would give you a sneaky little kiss in between his writing.
Often you could be found with your head resting in the crook of sneki boi’s neck as he spends hours and hours just pulling his fingers through your hair. You would tell him all about your day, or the latest book you had read and he would listen intently absorbing every word. It wasn’t uncommon for these quiet moments to turn into a tickling match with him playfully tickle kissing you after you had made some hilariously sarcastic comment flung towards him
Other potential matches…………….. Masamune
I hope you enjoyed this love!
#akechi mitsuhide#ikesen mitsuhide#mitsuhide akechi#ikemen sengoku mitsuhide#matchups#match ups#ikesen matchup#matches#mitsuhide matchup#submission
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Oh gosh your superbat ficlet is so damn cute 😍😍😍 I'm pretty sure I squealed more than once (oh, Bruce, you're such an adorable idiot) Do you still take prompts? I'd like to offer one if you're interested :) -> so basically Clark gets hurt on a mission and Bruce is fussing over him like a mother hen to the utter delight of Alfred and the rest of the Superbat family watching the scene from afar.
Dearest!! Thank you so, so much for this! I’m so happy you enjoyed this little story and your prompt is so cute!! Thank you so, so much for your sweet message 🥰♥️♥️ And I am so, so sorry this took so long!!!!
It ended up a little softer (and thus less funny) than I thought but I love the concept of caring Bruce so much. He’s so soft but he’s trying so hard to hide it but everybody knows!!!
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Warning: slight injury mention
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Usually, when Jason drops in, he goes to the kitchen first to greet Alfred. And usually, Alfred will stop whatever he’s doing to ask him a few questions and make him some crunchy cinnamon toast, sizzling hot and sweet with crispy crusts. So when Jason walks into the kitchen and Alfred only looks up quickly to smile at him before turning back to the coffee maker, something is clearly not right.
“What happened?” Jason drops his helmet on a chair and shrugs out of his leather jacket, trying to read Alfred’s body language (impossible). At least it can’t be any mortal danger, considering Alfred is cooking coffee, not needles.
Before Alfred can answer, Dick pokes his head around the corner, cheeks flushed suspiciously. “Quick, Tim’s bringing him the first aid right now.” The words should be alarming, but Jason knows Dick well enough to know that he’s buzzing with delight, not fear.
However – “What’s going on?”
Dick turns his head and spots him. “Oh, Jason! Hey! Great timing, come quick!”
Not exactly an explanation, but Jason will take it. Especially Alfred checks the temperature of the coffee maker and nods, brushing past him.
“Well, hop along then.”
Jason, who’s never seen Alfred encourage Dick to move faster, hurries to follow them. Their little trip ends in the study, or rather at the door to the study. Tim is already peeking around the left side of the doorframe while Damian is sitting on the right, close enough to peek but also turned away enough that he looks like he’s pouting. At this point, Jason isn’t going to ask anymore. Instead, he steps behind Tim, who doesn’t even have the decency to be startled, and looks over his shoulder into the study.
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It’s 7am on a Saturday and the sun is sleeping in. Still, her light is almost bright enough to make out the details of the room. On the shelves, the books slowly take shape while the shadowy smudges on the rug slowly grow back into delicate flowers.
But most importantly, there’s the sofa. With how the light is falling into the room, it illuminates Bruce’s rigid posture as he leans down. Since the back of the sofa’s is turned to them, it’s impossible to tell who’s laying on it, but then the person moves a little and Jason makes out a head of dark almost-curls on the cushion. He frowns, squints a little.
“Is he injured? Is that even possible?”
“Well,” Alfred says in a quiet voice, “he certainly was at some point. An ugly sight.”
From somewhere around Alfred’s knees, another voice pipes up, pouty but still whisper-rough: “For five minutes! Everything about this is ridiculous.”
“Now, now,” Dick says and Jason sees out of the corner of his eye how he reaches down to ruffle Damian’s hair. “You know how Bruce is.”
They all fall silent now, watching Bruce straighten and say something that sounds very stern, very concerned. He reaches for the first aid kit on the little table next to him and picks up a bottle of disinfectant, a little cotton ball. For a moment, he hovers over Clark with those, then turns to put them back down. Jason bites his lip, smiling to himself. Leave it to Bruce to try and fuss over the most indestructible man on earth.
Clark huffs a little laugh, as well, sounding both fond and defeated, and a big, golden hand wraps around Bruce’s pale wrist. They all know how Bruce is, indeed.
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“You know,” Clark says, voice softly amused, “I really appreciate this, but I don’t think I have to lay down anymore. I can just sit on the balcony for a moment.”
“No.” Bruce keeps his voice firm, but doesn’t pull his hand from Clark’s grip. “The sunlight will shine directly onto this sofa for one hour and a half, and you’ll stay here for at least twenty minutes.”
“It was just a light hit, really. It’s all gone, see?” Clark uses his free hand to indicate his chest, unblemished and glowing under the torn crest of El. Bruce frowns. Two hours ago, there had been a large burn, black at the edges, skin torn and bubbling at the centre. Half an hour ago, the chest had been an angry shade of red. Now, Bruce has no reason to use the disinfectant.
His hand twitches a little in Clark’s grip and Clark’s expression softens. He relaxes back into the cushions, his eyes an inhumanly, sparkling shade of blue. “Alright, half an hour. But would you stay?”
Bruce hesitates. He should go down to the lab, to the BatComputer and write the mission report, update his file on the damage kryptonite can do to Clark upon contact. But the sun is waking the colours of the room and Clark’s hand is warm. “I could do that. Let me just get a chair-“
Before he can finish and pull back, Clark is shaking his head. “No, that’s not necessary. Here, just sit down, the sofa’s big enough.” To emphasise, he pulls his legs up a little, moves to the side, effectively creating a space for Bruce to sit down.
And well, he’s right. Bruce bites his tongue and sits down, careful not to accidentally touch Clark and risk hurting him. He frowns at his wrist, Clark’s palm still wrapped around it, warm and secure. Now that he’s sitting down, lead pours through his limbs and his eyes sting. “Maybe I should alert Alfred to make some soup.”
“Maybe you should relax a little.” There’s a warm palm between his shoulder blades and he feels the weight settle deep in his core, making it impossible to fret. “Here, we can relax together, I’m sure that’d help me.” Clark is smiling, glittering teeth, sparkly eyes.
Bruce blinks slowly, takes a deep breath. He nods. It’s a plan, of some sort. It’s a way to help Clark feel better. “You could benefit from some light relaxation exercises, I’m sure. Close your eyes, we’ll breathe together.”
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At 8:30, Alfred walks into the study to pick up the first aid kit. As all Butlers, he too has mastered the skill of moving without sound, and not even Batman or Superman are able to pick up on his presence. He stops by the sofa and watches them, wrapped around each other, both still half-dressed in their nightly gear, with Bruce’s head resting on Clark’s chest. Sound asleep. But who would blame them, Alfred thinks to himself as he drapes a blanket over them, they’ve had a rough night.
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again, thank you so much for your sweet words!!! 🥺
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