#*whispers very softly* the blue bus boys get along like a house on fire | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theworldisblue · 3 years

Text

teach me to be good

read on ao3

It was one of the coldest nights in awhile, the freezing tendrils of air finding their way into Damian’s costume chilling him to the bone. Jon didn't seem to notice, hopping around the city with a youthful cry and sparkling eyes. He took everything as new. Things like helping a woman find her way to the bus stop and saving a cat from a particularly big dog seemed to set him alive. They were so small. Such little things that made his smile wide and bright, cheeks painted red from the whipping wind as he rushed around. Of course, it did well to billow his cape behind him, making for a magnificent backdrop of color for the tiny hero.

Jon looked good in color, Damian noticed, as he followed, slipping between the cracks of buildings and hiding along shadows. It was dark tonight, a noticeable difference from the usual sing-songy streets of Metropolis. Usually there were streetlights for miles, bright buildings reaching up into the sky and towering the bustling streets. Nights in Metropolis were usually alive, pulsing with events and people. It was so very different from Gotham. Though, nothing was quite like Gotham.

Not tonight though. There was a power outage a few hours right before the dead of night, promptly shutting up the city into a box of darkness. No one was out now, not really. They all holed up in their homes of warmth and candles and softly told “good nights” as they waited for morning. As if promising that they would submit themselves to the quiet life just once, no doubt ready to leap out the very next night and stay out extra late, just to make up for lost time.

For now, it was just the stragglers. People who, for one reason or another, couldn't find their way inside. There wasn't much crime, so Damian watched from afar as Jon flew people from place to place, warming up gloves and offering a thumbs up to tired eyes.

He supposed he should feel more comfortable in the darkness. Gotham was usually like this. Shadowy and cold and unyieldingly restless, like small creatures crawling just beneath the surface of darkness. It was what he knew, what he had come to trust, to count on. Gotham had its own rule book. One he had memorized and knew how to manipulate and play to his advantage. Any other city, though workable, simply wasn’t as safe as Gotham. Wasn't as known. Nothing ever was. It was because of this that the new void that was Superman’s city was unnerving to the small boy crouching in the cold on a lonely rooftop. This was the place of light. The bright opening gates of cheeky smiles and pats on the back and curtains drawn back from windows so you can watch family game night explode about within.

This was the city of Jon. Of the small boy who ran out of his house every night in Costco jeans and a fluttering red cape who wanted so badly to simply do good . Because that is what he was- good. Right down to his very core. Damian would be the one to know. He had tried his very best to find the bad in Jon. To see something beneath the two-dimensional smile and bright blue eyes that rivaled the stars in regards to shine. Some nights, while up on a small roof, standing next to the boy, heaving and huffing out breaths into the freezing air after a particularly tricky save, his body radiating the heat reminiscent of a blazing trail-head fire, Damian thinks that Jon’s eyes, from the way they light up the sky around them, really must be stars.

Maybe it was just a kryptonian thing.

Still, Damian had tried to find the bad in the overwhelming plume of good that seemed to ooze from Jon every waking, and dreaming, moment. What he found, as he peeled back the layers, was nothing but a boy, true and real and kind. That was all.

And at first Damian hated him for it. Hated him for being everything that Damian could not be. Jon was weak, yes, but he had so much faith in the world around him. Every time he put that stupid “S” symbol on his chest he braved the world with a wonderment that could only befall someone who truly had only ever known the softest parts of life. Someone who, in their heart, believed that everything was good. That everything could be.

It was idiotic. And terrifying. Because Damian hoped it would never change. And because he knew, someday, like clockwork, it would. Because it always did. Everyone grew up someday.

Damian was jealous for a time too. He envied the boy that got everything he hadn’t even known he wanted. Not that he would ever admit he wanted it in the first place. Because he was a Wayne. He didn't need to be coddled like a child. He didn't need to believe in happy endings and hugs for all. He never had. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had never even gotten to know what it must be like. To be so carefree. So happy .

But those feelings could be controlled, cast out. They weren’t what bugged him the most. No, it was the fact that Jon believed everything was good. He believed that every villain he met was worth something, in the end. That everyone had some reason, some magic formula to being fixed. To not do evil things anymore. He truly thought he could save everyone. Not just in the save-people-from-a-burning-building or stop-someone-from-getting-mugged type of way either. He believed people could be saved in the maybe-with-some-understanding-the-bad-guy-will-see-the-wrong-in-his-ways type of save. And, to be frank, he was wrong.

But also, it meant that Jon believed Damian was good. He didn't know much about Damian’s time in The League. Jon had skimmed the very surface, knowing only paper facts and clipped confessions on rough days through watery eyes, but nothing more. He knew enough not to push too much. He knew enough to know that somewhere under the surface, Damian appreciated him for not bringing it up much.

Jon really, truly believed he knew Damian. But he didn't. Never would. Not the way Mother did. Not the way his caretaker did. Or the way the kind lady who used to dress his wounds and hum quiet songs in his ear when no one was around for hours and hours, did. Not the way all of his victims had come to know him. Jon knew Damian as Robin. Knew him as the flimsy mask he had accosted from his brother, and had claimed as his own.

He knew Damian as Damian had hoped he would. Jon was too trusting to not search beneath the surface. To not notice the poorly hidden monster feeding underneath his very skin, sometimes writhing and fighting with all it’s might to be set free. Jon never saw how incredibly close Damian was to losing this forever battle from time to time.

Because of course he didn't. Because he was Jon. And Jon didn't see monsters. Not as they were anyway. He didn't shy away from them as he should. He saw them as the greatest victims, as the first to be saved. He pitied them. Weeped for them when he wasn't fast enough to stop them from running their lives through with a stake. Monsters it seemed, save for maybe Joker, never did live too long. They were bright, destructive fireworks that blew like fuses that took and hurt before fading out forever. Jon was too blind to see that a monster was only what it was, nothing more. He was so good that he never considered that there might be something out there that wasn't.

And Damian wasn't. That was his greatest shame. Knowing that one day Jon would see he was no better than the bad guys they stopped night to night. Knowing that Damian would be the thing to steal away that sparkle in his eyes. Once he knew, truly knew, Damian for what he was, he would see the world for what it’s always been.

Though, it wasn't as clear to Damian as it's being put now. He didn't know these things on the surface. He knew them only deep in his heart, like an ever-firing cannon aimed directly at the monster within its chains made of Robin’s domino mask. He would feel it in fleeting moments of his lively patrols with the boy. It would whisper to him during the weightless moments when jumping between rooftops. It would float in the air, singing in his ears as he sprinted from save to save. Even as the nights were finally over, and Jon was sleepily rubbing those starry eyes on their way home, it would nag in the back of his mind.

He ignored it every time. Though he knew it was impossibly unfair to take advantage of this gentle creature, this soft soul, as his mother would put it, he couldn't help himself. Couldn't help but march on with him just as the sun sunk into the valleys beyond the city of all that was good and fight beside him at every opening. The blinding light that was Jon made it easier not to be condemned to the darkness so constantly. Jon’s pure good made the fact that he was bad hurt just a little less, if only for breathless moments here and there. The moments in between all time, where things set still in place. Where Damian could swear he saw the fireworks explode all around Jon as if saying I am the sun if it were to be a person.

Damian liked to think it rubbed off on him, if only a little. Not that it would be a good thing in the end. The good, though magnetic and entracing, was weakness. And Damian would sacrifice a peaceful heart if it meant he would be strong. If it meant no one could hurt him in any way ever again.

That didn't stop him from marveling at Jon’s willful openness. He gave so much of himself to everyone he met so instantly, like they were more deserving of it than he was. He decided people were worth it with just a glance.

Maybe, in a sort of backwards way, that very thing is what made Jon stronger than Damian could ever hope to be. He was strong enough to show all that he was without infliction, without being afraid someone might walk into his heart and burn it all out, leaving nothing but broken, blackened, charred remains. Maybe that was Jon’s secret. Instead of hiding away, protecting yourself from anyone and anything that could possibly hurt you, opening up. Displaying yourself to the world as if saying, Come and get me . Maybe that was true strength. The kind that Father or Ras simply were too scared to try to know. Perhaps Damian was too scared as well.

Or perhaps Jon was a loving fool. A fool to allow himself to be so fully and so completely compromised without as much as a single thought. Maybe Damian would feel for him, if once upon a time he wasn’t taught that pity was the greatest form of self-indulgence. That it was wrong. He caught himself from thinking it, really he tried, but sometimes the things we think and feel can't be conditioned so neatly. Alas, he catches himself, more than he would like, feeling for the gentle boy standing before him. Pitying him. Jon had not gotten the chance to be strong. He was being willfully misguided by those that he trusted the most. Allowed to believe that his perfect idealized version of the world was a reality. And the longer it went on for, the more it would crush him when the smoke cleared. Damian tried not to feel bad that he was one of the evil people leading Jon astray.

It wasn't like Jon was Damian's responsibility anyway. Sure, they were partners, and out in the field he would give his life to see Jon return home to Krypto safely, but that's where it ended. Their partnership was strictly professional, born of their fathers’ closely related night activities. It was that and nothing more. They both knew it. At least, they sure made a show of it to each other. Though, the things we iron onto the surface are not always how we feel deep within. In fact, they usually never are.

So, cloaked by the darkness of the newly costumed Metropolis-as-Gotham, Damian watched Jon as he worked. Watched him jump and fly and giggle to no one but himself and the moon above. If the unorthodox black of the city bothered him at all, it didn't show. And in the early startings of the morning, when the sky started to awake for a new day and Jon was trotting back over to Damian’s side on the roof, he could swear he saw his way-too-blue eyes glow in the freshly arrived sun.

They sat side-by-side for what felt like a million moments, but at the same time none at all, watching the sun rise over Metropolis once more, fixing the unsettling air that had accumulated from the sins of darkness. Jon watched the sun rise, gaping in perfectly entranced wonder at the sight before him. Like it was and would always be the most beautiful thing he’ll ever see. Damian was watching Jon, finding himself hoping deep in his burned out heart it wouldn't be true. Hoping that Jon does, in fact, see many more beautiful things after today. Things to rival that of a simple sunrise.

It was dumb. To love someone so weak. Someone so easily crushed. To hope so much for them that it makes your heart do a funny ache sometimes, but if anyone in this unforgiving world deserved it, it was Jon.

#damianwayne #jonkent #robin #superboy #supersons #teachmetobegood #fanfiction #ao3 #platonic love #damian wayne #jon kent #batfam #im pretty new at tumblr #so i hope this is how you do this?#2k words

14 notes · View notes

addictedtofiction03 · 4 years

Text

Firefighter-in-Training

Eddie walked through the door to the sound of music softly coming from the living room. He placed his keys into the bowl and shed his jacket, putting it on the coat rack. He padded quietly through the hall and entered a room that was shadowed in the light of the television and the lights off their tree. His heart nearly exploded at the sight of his husband of three years, and his twelve-year-old son curled up on the couch, fast asleep.

Eddie smiled as he walked over, pressing a kiss to the crowns of each of their heads. He moved to sit next to the two people who made up his entire world. He sighed as he leaned back into the soft cushions of the chair, feeling his vision sway from the exhaustion that he racked up from his shift. He opened his eyes when he felt fingers sliding through his hair and turned to see Buck looking at him lovingly.

"Didn't hear you come in."

Eddie reached up for those fingers, pulling them to his lips, pressing a warm kiss. "I just got in a few moments go," he whispered, not wanting to wake Chris up as well.

"How was your day?"

Eddie closed his eyes again. "It started off slow, but once that bell rang, it was one call after another. It was crazy today. We had one call where this lady ran a red light, trying to chase down this man in a Santa Hat. When she ran through the intersection, she plowed into a bus and caused it to jackknife into the opposite lanes where it hit three cars."

"Holy shit…" Buck sighed before scowling. "Of course, that would have to happen on my day off. I wish that I could have been there."

"There were car parts and glass everywhere. It took hours to clean up."

"Damn holiday drivers…sounds like it was a crazy scene."

"You want to know the most insane part?"

"What?"

Eddie snorted as he recalled the details from the scene. "There were only minor injuries."

Buck blinked as surprise filled his eyes. "Wow… that is amazing. What was the woman thinking?"

"But that is not the craziest part. The part where the man in the hat was nowhere to be found."

Buck snickered. "It sounds like someone was hitting the holiday punch a little too soon. Unless that man was the real Santa…" he said, trailing off as his eyes filled with wonder. "What if-"

"No," Eddie piped up, wanting to stop his man before he started spouting off some crazy Santa fact. He knew that his husband had an insane knack for looking up random topics when he was bored. Eddie's eyes dropped to the little boy between the two men. "He's sacked out. What did you guys do today?"

Buck peered down at Chris, who starting to stir at the sound of the voices. "We had a very busy day. We went to the store. Then we came home and baked some cookies. We even made a homemade gingerbread house. After that, we ate some pizza and watched movies until we fell asleep. He wanted to wait up to see you, but he passed out about an hour into Christmas with the Kranks."

"Sounds like you had a lot of fun…" Eddie said as Chris stretched out his arms, and his eyes lit up as they fell on to Eddie.

"Daddy!" Chris smiled brightly with a voice filled with glee and reached for Eddie. "I missed you!"

Eddie chuckled as he gathered Chris up in his arms, placing him on his lap. "I missed you too," he said, kissing Chris on the temple, taking a moment to breathe in Chris's sweet scent that was mixed with Buck's. It was his favorite since it was the scent of home.

"What about me? Did you miss me?"

Eddie narrowed his brown irises at his husband. "I don't know… It was kind of peaceful without you today. It was kind of nice," he said with a teasing note.

"Well…" Buck huffed, turning away from him, crossing his arms with a cute pout of his face. "I see where I rank in this family. You don't miss me all day. Then you come home and snatch away the boy that was keeping me warm."

Eddie snickered. He knew that Buck was playing along with him. "Oh baby, you have no idea how much I miss you every day," he said, taking Buck's hand into his, but Buck pulled away, which made Eddie look at him. Buck was glaring at the television, and Eddie would have laughed too, but he also knew that sometimes his husband didn't know when someone was teasing him or joking around.

"You actually think I wouldn't miss you?" Eddie chuckled slowly at Buck's still pouting face. "I miss you the moment you are not in my vision. I miss you the moment you leave our bed. I miss you the moment you are not beside me. I will always miss you until I take my last breath."

Buck pulled his attention away from the television to look to Eddie. Eddie could feel the room start to sizzle with energy. Or maybe that was his body igniting from the smokey gaze across from him.

Buck broke the trance by clearing his throat and looking down at their kid. "Hey Buddy, do you remember what I said about the bag?" he asked.

Chris perked up, sitting up straight with an excited smile. "We can give him the bag now?" he asked, clapping his hands.

"Mmmhm," Buck nodded. "Can you go grab it for me?"

Chris wiggled off of Eddie's lap until his feet touched the floor. Eddie's brows furrowed as he watched his son slowly make his way out of the room.

"What bag?"

Buck smiled. "You'll see. So you really did miss me?" he asked him, shyly.

Eddie shook his head as he moved until he was sitting next to Buck. "You bet I did, and if Chris was in bed," Eddie reached up to cup Buck's face pressing a hungry kiss to lips. Buck sighed into the kiss before Eddie pulled back. "I would show you just how much I missed you."

Buck moaned quietly. "Don't start something you can't finish, Ed."

Eddie pressed another kiss to the corner of Buck's lips. "Who says I'm not going to finish? Because I plan to later." He smirks as he could hear Chris's shuffled footsteps filling the room. "Later?"

"Later."

Chris walked over to Buck with a small red bag in his hands. Buck smiled brightly at him. "Great job!" Buck said, pulling Chris on to his lap. "Now we give it to Daddy," Buck said, and Chris smiled back as he passed the bag over to Eddie.

"This is for you," Chris giggled as Eddie takes it into his hands.

"What is it?" Eddie asked, looking at the bag.

"It's your Christmas present," Chris told him.

Eddie frowned. "Christmas isn't until next week," he pointed out. "If it's my Christmas present, I should wait until next week when you open yours."

"Buck said that this present couldn't wait."

Eddie glanced up at Buck, who was nodding at him.

"It's true. Open it," Buck urged softly with a smile that had Eddie pulling the bag open. Buck could feel his heart begin to pound as Eddie worked through the sea of tissue paper until he reached the bottom. He had to close his eyes as a note of confusion washed over Eddie's handsome face. He opened them to see Eddie pulling his hand out of the bag holding the blue rolled-up fabric that he had placed in that bag a few hours before.

Eddie pulled at the piece of tape holding it all together and unrolled it to reveal that it was a onesie. On the front, it had the LAFD logo in the corner, and on the back, it had the Los Angeles Fire Department in large white letters with Firefighter in training below it in red. "It's a onesie," he said, turning to look at the two of them.

Buck nodded. "It is," he smiled as Eddie turned it around to look at the other side.

"Who's having a baby?" Eddie asked, looking to his husband. "Is it someone we know?"

"It sure is."

"Who?"

"We are."

Eddie stared at him quietly for a few moments, and Buck watched as Eddie connected the dots in his mind. Those beautiful brown eyes filled up with so much light, Buck felt like he was staring into the sun. "We are?" Eddie swallowed, trying to keep the bubble of hope bursting. They had been working so hard, fighting long hours with fights and broken hearts, for this moment.

Buck nodded, blinking rapidly. "Yep. We are. I received a call early this afternoon before I went to pick up Christopher from school. It was Mrs. Weiss calling to tell me that our baby is on its way as we speak. The mother has already signed away her rights, and we will be given a call once the baby is born."

Eddie felt a wind hit his body as the news sank in. But it was not an awful feeling. No. This feeling was great as this wind knocked down every door around them, freeing them from their current struggles of facing the possibility that this moment would never happen. But it did...and it is happening. For them! "Why didn't you call me?"

Buck shrugged. "Because you were at work, and I didn't want to tell you over the phone. I wanted to see the look in your eye when I told you the news and didn't really feel like sharing this moment with the house just yet."

Eddie swallowed painfully. "This is really happening," he said in awe. "We're getting a baby." Eddie reached over, taking Buck's hand into his. "We're getting a baby," he said again as joy filled his soul.

Eddie was so filled with excitement that he jumped to his feet and pulled Chris off of Buck's lap. "Chris... we're getting a baby," he smiled at his son, twirling him in his arm. "You are gonna be a brother." The room was filled with Chris's squeals as Buck rose to his feet, watching the duo that filled his world with so much love.

"Daddy! Let me down!" Chris laughed as Eddie tickled him. As he laid him back on the couch and Eddie turned to his partner.

"We did it," Eddie said, placing his hands on Buck's hips, pulling him closer. "We really did it! I love you so much, Evan."

Buck said nothing as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Eddie's lips. "I love you too," he whispered against his lips.

Eddie pulled back. "Wait… Do we know if it's a boy or a girl?"

Buck shook his head. "Weiss didn't say. I don't care. I hope we get a girl to be honest, but I am good with a son too. I mean, we already have the perfect son. Now we just need a perfect girl."

Eddie frowned at Buck. "But the onesie says firefighter in training…" he reminded.

Buck snorted as he wrapped his arms around Eddie's waist. "Don't let Hen hear you say that," he snickered. "She would probably smack you for it."

"When are we gonna tell the family?" Eddie asked.

Buck lifted his shoulders. "Hmm… That is a good question. Maddie will be pissed that I didn't tell her. Hell, everyone would be pissed if we didn't tell them. But I want to savor this moment, so how about a few days after we bring our baby home."

Eddie nodded. "Our baby… I like the sound of that."

Buck pressed a kiss to the tip of Eddie's nose. "Me too. Except I love the sound of it."

"Always trying to outdo me."

Buck snickered. "Didn't hear you complaining the other day with the Nutella. I fact you were loving."

"YOU ATE MY NUTELLA??!"

Eddie and Buck froze and turned to see their son staring at them with wide eyes wearing a broken expression. "Ooops…" Buck trailed off as Eddie shook his head and turned back to Chris.

Buck took in a deep breath as he nibbled his lip as Eddie tried to explain to Chris what happen, but couldn't help but to fall in deep laughs. There was nothing that could kill his mood because they were getting a baby. He remembered someone telling him that December was the month of miracles, and he finally could see that they were right.

#evan buckley #Buddie #buck and eddie #eddie and buck #Eddie Diaz #9-1-1 #911 #911 on fox #oliver stark #ryan guzman #buddie fic #team buddie #daily buddie #gif is not mine #just the one shot #these two boys #are my soul #christopher diaz #my dads

123 notes · View notes

peter-parkourwrites · 4 years

Text

Lose You To Love Me (one shot)

1940’s Bucky x Reader

Based off of the song, Lose You To Love Me - Selena Gomez

Warnings: mentions of getting shot, literally all angst, if you squint fluff

Word Count: 2k

——

We'd always go into it blindly

I needed to lose you to find me

This dancing was killing me softly

I needed to hate you to love me, yeah

You had met James Barnes on a humid and foggy night in Brooklyn, July 1st, 1939.

One Year Before Drating

Your friend’s Alice and Rose has decided dragging you out of your house to go out for a night on the town, drinks, dancing, the whole shebang!

When you had stepped out in your baby blue colored dress, the one with the white ribbon tied around the waist, your friends erupted into squeals, mentioning how the boys would be the ones swooning tonight.

You simply laughed, grabbed your cherry red lipstick and raced them out the door, the sound of your heels clattering against the pavement could be heard, paired with loud giggles.

If only you knew how right they would have been.

Bucky had been dragged along dancing with Steve, his scrawny best friend who happened to go beat red every time a decent lookin’ gal showed up in his peripheral. Of course, Buck never minded dancing, truth is he adored it. The sway of a dames hips, and the frill of her dress as he would twirl her around the dance floor to Billie Holiday, or Duke Ellington. The curl of their red or pink lips as he whispered something less than ‘professional’ in her ear.

‘Course any other girl in his eyes would merely become a silly pest when he met you.

There you were, sat at the bar your bare legs crossed and dangling a few inches from the ground, even with heels on.

Bucky cleared his throat, downed the rest of his drink for some liquid courage and stood up. He brushed off the front of his jacket adjusted his cap and strode off towards you. His collar seemed to get tighter as he approached you, even though he could have sworn he loosened it. The room was growing hot, at least he thought so, and yet he continued forward hoping and praying he wasn’t getting sick with the flu that had been going around.

“So, why’s a gorgeous dame like yourself sittin’ here by your lonesome?” He asked, leaning against the bar and shooting you his most dashing smile. His eyes met yours and the world seemed to stop spinning. Your irises were dark and wide, pooling with information as you took in your surroundings, not daring to look at him just yet.

But oh when you did meet his ocean blue eyes, his heart started beating out of his chest, skipping beats, slowing down, speeding up, the whole nine yards. He swallowed thickly, hoping, praying that love at first sight wasn’t just some myth and this wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him, and asked…

“You wanna dance love?”

January 1st, 1940

6 months until the drafting

“James!”

Bucky winced at your tone, his bare feet digging into the sand. He watched as your peach sundress flapped around with the salty ocean breeze. Falling in love more and more every second.

“Bucky I swear to- ahhh!” Strong arms wrapped around your waist and hoisted you up, your bare back going flush against his bare chest. Your cheeks heated up as you kicked at his thighs, watching the world pass by you as he ran towards the shore.

“Bucky no no no!” You cried, but it was too late, you were tossed into the water. The ice cold green and blue surrounded you, as you sat there underneath letting your hair float up around you along with the scattered fish, and seaweed.

Pushing up from the ground you broke the barrier between the cold water and the now even colder air.

“Sorry doll,”He chuckled, a smirk crossing his lips as he leaned in close to you pressing his lips to yours.

You promised the world and I fell for it

I put you first and you adored it

“Bucky.” You grumbled shoving him back, watching as he slipped and fell into the water, last minute pulling you in with him. Now the both of you stood shivering in the winter air, teeth clattering and goosebumps rising with every gust of wind. “You ‘oughta have a good explanation for this hun.” You spoke up, dragging him out of the water behind you and onto the shore. “I love ya, but I oughta get some hot chocolate and dancin’ after this mess.” You hummed, before freezing in your tracks realizing what you had said. “I-I uhh I mean-”

“You love me?” He asked, spinning you around to face him and gripping both your trembling hands in his own ice cold hands. “Well I reckon now as good of a time as ever to mention, I love ya too dollface.” James grinned, looping an arm around your waist and dipping you bringing you flush against him and kissing you deeply. Your hands gripped at the back of his dripping wet uniform and squealing as his fingers tickled at your sides.

“I’m never letting you go baby girl, when I get home I’ll give you the world, and until I leave you’ll have the world.”

“You are my world Bucky.” He hummed and leaned in for another short kiss.

I saw the signs and I ignored it

Rose colored glasses all distorted

Set fire to my purpose And I let it burn

July 6th, 1940

Drafting Day

Bucky lays awake that night, his mind going a thousand miles a minute. Unable to sleep he sits up, letting the sheets pool at his waist leaving his bare chest exposed to the warm summer air. HIs fingers reach out, ghosting over your sleeping features and he prays that if you wake up you won’t think it’s creepy.

But he needs to remember the way your cheekbones become more prominent in the hot weather, when you don’t wear as much makeup. He needs to remember the warm glow that sets on your face as you sleep soundly beside him. The way your lips curl every so slightly as he runs his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp.

His blue eyes filled with adoration, and sadness as he watches you almost purr with delight in your sleep as his soon to be cauloused and rough hands card through your hair.

The sun is now seeping through the white curtains that have long since been stained, such a contrast to when you first had gotten them. It makes him sick thinking they’d have the possibility of changing by the time he returned.

His home, your home… would be different. He’d no longer walk in to your room, and the same glow would not be there. Your brightly colored dresses, pinks, blues, and bright yellows with polka dots, would be switched to greys, blacks, and whites. You had picked up a job as a nurse for the veterans that were coming home already, and you didn’t start until two days after he left. The general having some regard to let you mouron and miss him. Letting your heartbreak settle before working on hand with other people.

And now as you kiss him feverishly, your hands looping around his neck and grasping at his hair. Begging him to stay without needing words he puts on his most charming smile, brushes the salty tears from your cheeks and places one last kiss to your forehead. With a promise.

“I’ll be home soon doll, wait for me.” He said, placing another peck to your lips, shoving a black box in your hands and boarding the bus.

March 18th, 1942

Two years since Bucky has been gone.

Your heart fluttered as you read his latest letter. Something about how they were going in on a mission to gain more intel from Hydra, and try to take them down once and for all. You laugh as he mentions something about ‘following Captain America into the jaws of death’. Steve was prone to dramatics. He mentioned being nervous, considering he only just got out of their hands. You shed a tear as he mentions how he hasn’t been sleeping much since. But he pushes your thoughts from that when he starts talking about some girl Dum Dum was trying to pick up at a bar, and she threw her drink on him.

“Mrs’s Barnes?”

“Louise, how many times have I asked you to stop callin’ me that.” You scoff, sparing a glance down at the ring on your finger, getting lost in its beauty for only a second.

“Sorry Ma’am-”

“It’s not Ma’am either darling, I am not my mother. Good graces if I ever act like her please just take me out back and shoot me.” You groan, pulling on your work gloves, fixing your nurses outfit and following her towards the infirmary.

We’d always go into it blindly

I needed to lose you to find me

Soldiers were being shipped in an out by the minute, you barely knew where to start. But your question was short lived when Louise shook her head and pointed towards the offices.

Suddenly your throat felt very dry, you brought a hand up to pull and loosen your collar as she guided you along beside her, her arm resting around your back as her hand gripped your own.

The news didn’t register properly until you were handed an envelope. Dirty, covered in blood, but there it lay in your hands. The last thing he wrote to you. Kept a secret, never to see the light of day unless he was dead.

The clinic sent you home early that day, and now you sat alone in your studio apartment, that was shared with him.

The letter sat on your coffee table, mocking you. That letter was the destruction of everything you had built with him. You knew what was in it without even having to read it.

Dear (Y/N),

My love, the sun to my stars, my babydoll. You are everything a man could ever wish for. And you know I hate formalities but I feel like if this didn’t start with dear Steve would have my head.

I hope you never have to read this because… it means I’m dead, or missing in action. Which either way means dead in the eyes of war.

When I first got my draft notice I was sick. I threw up the whole night, my ma and sister by my side. I couldn’t leave ‘em here, ya know? With my dad being gone… it never felt right. But I knew I had to go. Stevie was the one who actually wanted to leave. Always goin’ on and on about how jealous he was that I fit all those damn requirements.

So I guess that's when I started wearing my uniform with pride. Knowing I was doing something good for this fucked up world.

But then I met you.

You. Damn I could go on and on ‘bout how beautiful you were that night. By your lonesome, just smiling all happy in that dance hall, not a care in the world about the war, or if anyone would ruin your night.

So I guess that’s why I walked up to you specifically. You didn’t have a care in the world, you were just happy. So I figured, why not have a fun time with a beautiful gal, and then leave her that same night so she wouldn’t have to see off. I didn’t want anyone to see my off. Not my Ma, Sisters, Stevie. Hell I never even dreamt you would. I figured I’d ignore my draft notice long enough that I could elope with some gal who would go with me, and never have to fight in this damn war. But that night... when you took my hand in yours and smiled that cherry red smile... I was done for. Completely whipped man, and I guess that night I didn’t think of the consequences. I didn’t think I would fall so hard for a dame who I barely knew besides the color of her dress and the way it made her eyes pop.

‘Course I’m me, and well… shit happens. But I am so glad that it did. Because either way, loving you will always be the greatest thing I have ever done. No matter how badly I wanted to stay, leaving was the hardest thing.

I hope this letter finds you in good health, and if you want to hate me for the rest of your life, I wouldn’t blame ya sweetheart. If you find another man, I won’t blame you for that either doll. Live your life, live your dreams… just don’t forget me. I won’t forget you.

Yours forever,

James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes.

April 6th, 1942

You stared at the empty casket in the ground. It had yet to be covered up, and the rain was beating against it making the most horrendous sounds. Bucky always hated the rain. Said it got in the way. Of what? You didn’t know. You figured it was some odd thing from his childhood, maybe he got stuck outside in it and got sick, or maybe he just hated water as a whole.

But now you understood. The rain made everything dreary, and cold. A mood fitting for a funeral you presumed. Didn’t mean it hurt any less. If anything it should have been sunny for him. Bucky was always lighting up your life, or any room he walked into with that dashing smile of his.

His Ma, and sisters cleared out a while ago, to go back to their house for something to eat and to talk.

Something Bucky would have also hated. He never went to family parties, said it gave him headaches, and he hated having to use small talk with his own cousins because his Ma would have smacked him upside the head had she heard what they really talked about.

You stood at the foot of his grave. Your black flats kicking at the dirt. Tears no longer streaming down your face.

“I hate you ya know…” You finally spoke. You were silent for the whole ceremony, not even bothering to look up when you were asked to speak. You couldn’t. How could you when the love of your life was not even in his own grave, but out on the front lines somewhere in germany, dead.

“That night… when you” You cleared your throat and lowered yourself to sit on the ground. “When you asked me to dance… I wanted to say no. You were a man decorated for war, I knew only heartbreak would come.” You sighed, picking at the grasses that grew beneath your feet, scoffing at how it was able to live out its stupid life, and not him. “God if you could see me now Buck, you’d be laughing up a storm. I mean here I am, scolding fuckin’ grass for being alive. I must be a mad woman.” You laughed bitterly and it turned into choking sobs overtime.

“When you asked me to dance that night… my momma had always told me, don’t fall in love with a soldier. He’ll break your heart long before you even see it coming. To this day I still don’t know why she always said it… because you never broke my heart. Still haven’t, and I think I hate you a bit for that. I think it would have been easier if you left me alone that night underneath the lamp post. Maybe then I would have found some man worthy of my time as you’d always go on about. But there was never anyone else Buck. There never will be. It’s always you.” You took a deep breath and shake your head, your hands now sitting in your lap.

“All this, makes me think I deserve it… ya know? Some sort of sick karma… like I was so happy, so in love and suddenly it was ripped away from me. But I guess… I needed to lose you to find me because now… I work with the veterans. Sit and talk with them about the war. Hell one of them knew you, think his name was Pinky something… I dunno, but the nurses and I have helped them get back on their feet. Even started a home for ‘em, and their families. Same with orphans and widows of the war, they stay there when needed for food, medical care, and just company. You’d be proud of me I hope… I love you James… I’ll see you again someday”

Thunder boomed, as lightning lit up the sky. Brushing away the tears you stood up on shaky legs and placed a kiss to the casket, the red stain of your lipstick not even daring to be washed away by the rain. You gripped his dogs tags that lay around your neck tightly, your knuckles growing white as you made your way out of the cemetery and to an empty home.

And now the chapter is closed and done

To love love, yeah

To love, yeah

And now it’s goodbye, it’s goodbye for us.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #1940’s Bucky #40’s bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james barnes x reader #bucky angst

76 notes · View notes

turnloosethelibrary · 6 years

Photo

ASCENSION, THE FIRST

By Cee

Fire was destruction. That was why Callidia respected it, even though she couldn’t spend more than two minutes around an open flame without getting the shakes. It had set her free one cold winter night like a bird from its cage. At first, her family had assumed she’d perished, then they assumed she’d set it. Neither were true but she had seized upon the destruction of 546 Illiger Way to leave town. It wasn’t like, in the glow of the night, she had anywhere else to go. She called up her best friend on the payphone and told him to tell anyone else who was tired of the confines of the town, even if it were for a reason completely different from hers, to come around, the bus leaves in an hour. A few of them did and they boarded a bus to nowhere.

None of them were certain when, two years on the road, they crossed into another world. There were no flashing lights, no rabbit holes to fall in or tornados to take them away, they didn’t get lost or swept overboard or get swallowed whole by an earthquake. Maybe the first sign was that the sky was just a bit more purple than usual, the air just a bit more sweeter, but that could’ve been chalked up to being on a whole new coast, so far away from their home. Nothing about the new world was particularly new, nor interesting.

Then, they met the talking black fox, guided by a butterfly made of fire and any explanation they had crumbled away. “Welcome home, young ones.”

The first reaction to a talking fox is generally a rapid fire list of all the things one has consumed in the past forty eight hours, to rule out food poisoning or drugs. Being that Calli had only had a few apples and some bread, she felt pretty safe to say that it wasn’t a hallucination. She felt like she should freak out, after all she could hear Quincy’s rapid breathing behind her, along with whispered questions of disbelief but the fact that some foxes could talk settled deeply in her heart, like the fact that some boys (like Quincy) wore make-up or some girls (like Aislinn) believed in tarot. She bent down, out stretching her hand. She read once that in order to get a dog to like you, you had to let it smell you. She wasn’t sure if the same thing would be said for a talking fox but it did push its head into her hand so she figured it was close enough.

“Hello there,” She whispered softly. The fox looked up at her with orange eyes. Her breath caught in her throat as it spoke again. It sounded young, high-pitched, almost like a child.

“You five have travelled far, but you have so much further to go. Come! Follow me! The Elements are gathering and wish to see you.” The fox bounded off, then looked back at them, twiching its tail.

“This is crazy, we can’t do this.” Suzy broke the silence that had partially fell, her drawl trailing behind her thoughts.

Calli shrugged, “Well, do you want to waste time wondering how it’s possible or do you want to figure out where we are?”

“Both? I feel like both will be very ahuh, helpful.” Quincy spoke now, running his fingers through his hair.

“Look, okay none of us understand this, but either we freak out, or we try to understand what’s going on and quite frankly, I think I’ve had enough freaking out for a lifetime, thank you very much. I’m going to follow him. Y’all can stay here if you want.” Callidia crossed her arms, making no motion to leave. She became a de-facto leader in the winter time, when their food bags would get low and she hoped that the trust that position brought would let them follow her. She didn’t want to go through whatever the forest brought alone.

Quincy, Aislinn and Suzy shared a glance of equal concern. Jason stood a little straighter and grinned, “I’m going to follow you, sweetheart. I trust you.”

“Any other complaints?” Calli cocked her head, looking each of her friends in the eyes in turn. “Then let’s go.”

The people the fox took them to professed to be Gods. Calli had a hard time believing that, until she saw a man rise from the earth and a woman fall from the sky, landing perfectly. She backed away from them, closer to the fire. They were impossible beings, with hair that seemed to move of its own accord, hair not made of keratin but with their respective elements. The woman who fell from the sky chose Aislinn, sweet Aislinn with her habit of staring off into space and talking about things that could not be. The man who rose from the earth chose anxious Quincy. One with hair of water chose her beloved Jason. Calli didn’t see who chose Suzy. It didn’t seem that there was to be anyone for her. She backed away, closer and closer to the fire.

Then she stopped. She had run into something solid and it felt like a scene out of an old horror movie as she turned her head. A man stood there where before there had been nothing but the hot flames. He laughed cruelly, until he saw the fear in her eyes and the way her shoulders rose to her ears and his laughter died off. “Hey now, it’s alright. Just a prank, my dear, just a prank.”

She stepped away to appraise him thoroughly. His hair was made of fire, though she wasn’t certain if that was because he had seemingly just stepped from it or if it was a personal aspect. Her throat tightened at the thought that this would be her - she hadn’t even realized what they had been chosen for.

They were Gods and they were the Elements and they were going to raise them to ascend.

The man who took her in told her to call him Jayvin, though his subjects called him the Lord of Fire. She liked knowing his true name, it made her feel just a bit safer in this foreign element, strange in more than a few ways. He noticed her discomfort around the open flames, and so moved her bedroom further away from the central chambers and higher up, where there was more smoke and ash, but less live fire without her even having to ask. He didn’t seem to be a harsh or cruel man, but for the first few nights when she moved in she stayed awake, still and staring up at the ceiling so she would be ready to defend herself if need be.

Time passed oddly in that world, and she wasn’t sure if she had been there days or weeks or months or years. She didn’t know when she last saw the Chugs, and she missed them but she knew they were most likely off in their own adventures, finding their place in this strange new world. She studied history of the world because she loved learning. That would’ve been a great surprise to any who knew her in her old life but there was none of that competitive hierarchy that made each lesson a game of memory, not of comprehension. Each day was paced exactly how she needed it. She learnt of the foxes and the dragons and the other creatures that fell under the Lord Fire’s commands. Communications between her and Jayvin were few. He was far busier than she was, though he did try to spend at least dinner with her.

“Soon,” He said each night, “soon I think you’ll be ready to learn magic.” That seemed far more impressive to her than learning of how many wars the Elements had gotten into over their respective times. There had been ten cycles of Elements, and hers was to be the eleventh - a holy number by Jayvin’s old books. It made her feel luckier about the whole affair.

He took her to a razing one long day. An entire length of forest was found to be hazardous, quite possibly cursed. The only one hundred percent remedy to either of those was a complete burning. He left her on a hill, close enough to see what was happening, but not so close that she was in danger of being burned, though he warded the hill, just in case. Once the boundaries were set and the fire was started, Jayvin walked up the hill and sat next to her. They were quiet for a long while, just watching the blaze, the grass turning bright then a dead black.

“This is one of my least favorite parts of it.” Jayvin said softly. “The destruction.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“Because otherwise this land would be inhabitable. With each razing, comes the chance for life to renew again, for potential to blossom. That’s why Rev doesn’t despise me each time I must destroy part of his kingdom.”

Callidia nodded, that seemed honorable enough. “Am I going to have to do that one day?”

“I think you already know the answer to that.”

The flames turned blue, reached their apex. It now had nowhere else to spread but back into itself. Soon it would be out, destroying itself as it had destroyed the trees that’d grown in that cursed ground. She shuddered, tried to act like her throat wasn’t closing up. She didn’t want to be the kind of person to do that, even if it were necessary. It seemed so sad.

“Here now,” Jayvin drew her attention away from the fire burning miles away to one in the palms of his hands. “I wouldn’t have survived so long as an Element if it were all razing and doom and gloom.” He seemed to form a butterfly out of the fire in his hands, carefully pushing it into open air. It floated there, streaming auburn flame. It reminded Calli of the Monarch butterfly she’d seen once on a hot summer day.

“Can you teach me how to do that?” She asked, eyes wide. She followed each amber spout.

“When you’re ready, of course.”

“Will I ever be?”

“I guess we’ll have to see.” Jayvin smiled lightly, “I think you will be. Tomorrow, maybe, or the day after.”

She pulled her legs up to her, hiding a grin. He was annoying, surely he knew relaxing around the fire wasn’t an option for her but.. maybe, maybe she’d get used to it. Fire was destruction, but it was also creation and renewal. It was burnt houses and growing leafs and it seemed to her it was the first family she ever knew.

#short fiction #turn loose the library #tltl stories #cee #fantasy

3 notes · View notes