Hello belovEd 😅😆🥰 You didn't pick a card this time so with the power of free will I've picked a Jeddie prompt for you! How about 5 AUs where Josh thinks Eddie's into Maddie and not him before they both get their shit together? Enjoy and thank you for your alllll your fills 💗💗💗
🥺🥹🥰 Bealoved??? Here's some Jeddies for you. We got a s2 AU, a college age AU, a s7 AU, a Regency-ish AU with the funniest first sentence I'll ever write, and a Star Trek/scifi AU.
1. Josh helps Maddie move into her new place, too. He's no firefighter, but he can help. But every time he's helping her with something, that younger newbie is around. "What's his name again?" Josh hisses. "Eddie," she says, which makes the guy in question look up and smile at them. He's cute. It's too bad he's definitely trying to work up the courage to ask out Maddie. Later, when she's talking to Chimney in her new kitchen, Josh is trying to figure out how the hell an Ikea lampshade thing is supposed to go together. Eddie sits next to him and says, "That's upside-down." And Josh lets out a noise of frustration and asks, "Says who?" And Eddie holds up the instructions and taps the picture. "I fucking hate Swedish people," Josh decides, flipping the piece over. "So, you gonna shoot your shot before it's too late?" Eddie flushes and scratches his neck. "Uh, you noticed?" he asks, and Josh gives him a look that hopefully conveys how obvious Eddie was being. "Well...you like movies?" Eddie asks. "There's a film festival screening thing next Friday if you're not working." The entire lampshade thing springs apart under too much pressure from Josh's hands as his brain points out that Eddie's asking him out. "Are you okay with dating single dads?" Eddie asks, and Josh blinks before nodding, then stops. "I'm not stepdad material," he says, swallowing. "Well, I'm not asking you to be," Eddie says, biting back a smile. "I'm just asking if you like movies." "Love 'em," Josh replies quickly.
2. Maddie's formerly kind of dorky daredevil little brother is home from college and he's now kind of extremely cute. Josh still sees the little twerp who put Vaseline on his car door handles right after he got his license, though. But Ev--Buck's little friend that comes along with him is fucking hot. He's also a sophomore, which makes Josh feel ancient by comparison. He's about to be twenty-five, so he knows he's not, but still. They're crashing with him and Maddie instead of her parents despite the extra rooms at Phillip and Margaret's place, but Josh gets it. They don't care how late the boys get back or whether they're entirely sober. Lucky Maddie has Eddie crushing for sure, because he keeps asking about the area like Hershey isn't boring as hell, asking about places to eat, stuff to do. Josh is ready to tell him to just ask her out or leave him alone, because having to fuel Eddie's Maddie date night fantasies is irritating him. And then Eddie comes back to the apartment one night when Maddie and Buck are out with their parents, and he's weighed down with takeout bags. "What's all this?" Josh asks, taking a few off his hands. "Uh, soup from that Italian place, wings and garlic knots from the pizza place, one of those fancy salads, that pistachio pesto pizza, and cake," Eddie says, putting everything on the dining table. "Maddie's with her parents," Josh says, blinking at the smorgasbord. "I mean, we don't have to do dinner first," Eddie says, chewing on his lip and blushing. "But I don't want you to think I'm just trying to hook up with you on spring break." Josh's eyebrows shoot up, and he looks from the food to Eddie and then the food again, and he turns to get plates and utensils. "You forgot to ask me out, dumbass," he chides softly before kissing the corner of Eddie's mouth.
3. Josh thinks it's a little sad that Eddie's clearly into someone who's about to get married. They're at the tiny engagement party, and Josh overheard him and Linda talking about how nice it is to hear someone's voice from the call center, even if they don't know it makes his day and even if he doesn't have a chance with them. He pops a grape in his mouth and tries to dissociate for a while, because being surrounded by happy couples and smitten firefighters is making his head hurt. Later, at the wedding, he expects Eddie (who's not with Marisol in this one) to look sad or wistful or something. Instead, he just looks happy. He hands Josh a piece of cake and leans against the wall while Buck stammers through an introduction between his parents and the slab of lightly charred beef that is his date. "Good for him for figuring it out," Josh decides. "Yeah, it's hard," Eddie says, sounding almost knowing. Josh slowly looks over at him, frosting melting across his frozen tongue. "You know, I was gonna ask you to dance at the reception," Eddie says softly. "I'm a good dancer, too." "I would've said yes," Josh says, and Eddie smiles at him. "I still would. There's, uh, other places you can do that, I hear."
4. Joshua hates balls. He's always stuffed into a suit that gets too hot, the food is always lacking, his bachelor status means he either has people trying to foist their more unfortunate daughters off on him or they're trying to get him to invest in something or other, and he would much rather be dancing with one of the few handsome men. Evan is making eyes at Thomas, the newcomer that Howard brought to town, and Joshua suspects they'll be out in the woodshed by the close of the ball. It's not like he's the only confirmed bachelor in town, but he feels like the loneliest. He watches Eddie--the one friendly concession the man had made was to give Joshua permission to use his nickname--take Maddie for a spin around the dancefloor, both of them radiant as they grin at each other and talk and laugh. Howard looks oddly unbothered, even though there's been talk of him proposing to her before the season is out. Joshua throws back the last mouthful of wine and goes out to the gardens. They're at the Nash estate, which is sprawling with lovely grounds. There's a rose garden, and Joshua walks among the flowers and runs his fingertips over the petals. He gets to the end of a row and sees a shadow, freezing, but it turns and it's just Eddie. He's holding a rose, probably for Maddie. "No lantern?" Eddie teases. "The moon's bright enough," Joshua points out casually, as though Eddie isn't glowing under the moonlight. "Bright enough to dance by?" Eddie asks. "Likely, yes," Joshua says, suddenly feeling very tired. "Mm, then may I?" Eddie asks, tucking the rose in Joshua's buttonhole and offering his hand. Joshua's lips part, but he can't think of what to ask. When he takes Eddie's hand, he's pulled close enough that it would be indecent even if either of them were a woman. The music is distant, but Joshua can hear it clearly enough as Eddie begins to step. "Why are you leading?" Joshua asks. Eddie laughs and presses his hand more firmly against Joshua's lower back. "I can stop," he offers. "Please don't," Joshua says softly, flushing.
5. "'See the galaxy,' they said. 'It'll be fun,' they said," Josh mutters, trying to find a frequency that's sandwiched between two others. He fucking hates being a Comms officer, he should've gone into xenobotany. The Lieutenant Comms officer, his best friend Maddie, is sitting with him and has her concerned face on. "Still nothing?" Josh asks, and she shakes her head. "They'll be okay." She's monitoring for word from her brother, husband, and their landing party. They'd lost communication two hours ago. Why they don't put Chimney and Buck on separate landing parties will continue to baffle Josh, because they're family now. If something happens, someone will lose two people. Granted, they'd all lose friends. But still. Suddenly there's a crackle in Josh's ear, and he works carefully to tune to it. "--day, mayday, does anyone copy?" And he never thought he'd be so happy to hear Eddie Diaz's voice. "I've got you, Diaz," Josh says. "Holy shit, thank you," Eddie says, sounding relieved. "Let me talk to Maddie." And Josh stares flatly at the helm before handing his headset off to her. Later, in the shuttlebay, he watches Buck get run to Medical on a stretcher, Chimney hot on his heels, and Josh sees Eddie put an arm around Maddie and hug her. He feels a stab of something in his chest, and he turns away to go back to his quarters. He's half a shift over anyway. There's a metallic pounding sound coming closer, and he looks over his shoulder and sees a pale, slightly scraped up field medical officer running towards him. "Quick thinking," he says. "Maddie told me you hotwired the ship to shock him back." "Yeah," Eddie says. "I, uh, thought we were all gonna die down there." Josh gives him a small smile and reaches out to squeeze his bicep. "I'm glad you all came back," he says, and he means it. "Yeah," Eddie says, and he grabs Josh's wrist when he draws his hand back. Before Josh can react, Eddie's leaning in and kissing him. "And I wouldn't have gotten to do that," Eddie whispers as Josh's pulse pounds in his ears. He's at a loss for words for once, so he throws his arm around Eddie's neck and pulls him in for another kiss.
This headcanon is one that I've been working on for months just so I could post it today of all days. This may not be the best hc you've ever read, but hopefully it's at least number 2:
BTD exists in a world where no one has to poop.
Outlandish, you say? Let's look at the facts.
When Strade kidnaps us in BTD1, he keeps us in the basement overnight. With our MC consumed with fear, it would make sense for them to fill their drawers. Yet, the text doesn't mention any brown notes. Not even a rabbit pellet.
Ren comes to offer us water, but what would have been useful would be a bedpan. Seriously, Ren! Can you just steal a bowl or something from the kitchen and throw it out so I don't have to die with Hershey squirts in my jeans?!
That leads me to BTD2: Fresh Blood (or Fresh Mud, given the circumstances).
All four of the characters kidnap us and hold us for multiple days. Ren leads us to the bedroom but seems unconcerned about us finding the bathroom. He collars us and feeds us out of a dog bowl. He wants my MC to act like a pet? I'll show him how a new pet acts when I leave a nice little surprise in that gamer chair. Perfect opportunity to traumatize him, completely missed.
The lack of human manure (humanure, if you will) makes even less sense in Lawrence's route. I'm sure he would appreciate the fertilizer for his plants, and it can't smell much worse than him, so what's the problem? He actually lets us use the bathroom at one point, but we barely get any time to ourselves. Like, gimme some time, Larry! I've been holding it in for 18 hours, and you've been feeding me all sorts of drugs! My GI tract isn't built for these turbo turds!
By now, you're probably screaming into your screen, "Idiot! There are bathrooms in this world! That clearly proves people can birth a creamy behemoth from their backsides!" I don't mean to poo-poo any criticism of my hc, but it's established multiple times that characters can pee. That doesn't mean they poop.
This is brought up in Vincent's route where the guy asks you to pee your pants (and he can also pee on you). Vincent is arguably the most doglike of all the characters, so wouldn't it make sense for him to drop a fudge rope near the MC to prove his dominance? Just asking questions.
Which brings us to TPOF (The Price of Fudge).
Celia has killed people in the same method she kidnaps MC, so she should know the score. Especially when she fills us with donuts!!! Girl, you forcing these donuts down my throat will make you see my chocolate filling! Especially when you force us to stay in this little room for multiple days! Imagine if instead of a tripwire, we get to lay a mudpie at the entryway. When Celia or Harold step in it, I think it would pause their bloody rage and just leave them with questions.
Mason's route is another where caca mechanics would come in handy. You're out in the woods for up to four nights, and you don't have to pop a squat? What happens when you're dropping the dook and Mason could sneak up behind you with a potential catchphrase: "Uh oh! STINKY!!!"
For the secret route, we once again have the perfect opportunity to slow Ren down with our brown batter. If I'm in serious danger, I'm drawing out my inner chimpanzee. I got a booboo bullet in the chamber ready to fling at any foolish Fox. Sure we're gonna die even more horribly than we would have, but I'm sure his chat would get a kick out of it.
That's to say nothing of when he starts fucking us on stream! Brother! You are asking to meet the smelly Jack-in-the-Box! Say your MC is AMAB. In this case, Ren has one, count 'em, ONE option to go spelunking in: our fecal fjord! When we've had zero prep time! No time to even fire one out before hand! He just barges into our cell and throws us some fishnets. Either no one in this universe needs to poop or he wants to pull out and see a chocolate knot.
There you have it. My definitive proof that the BTD-verse is poopless. I haven't even gotten into YKMET and how Strade keeps us for multiple days, feeds us, and could easily let us use the bathroom in the basement. But if what I wrote above doesn't convince you, nothing will.
“They do have a certain brand new puppy energy to them, for men in their thirties, don’t they?” Karen sighs.
“Men in their thirties,” Hen agrees. “A father of a teenage boy.”
“So what are you going to do?” Karen asks. “Snap at them to kiss already in the middle of a house fire?”
“No!” Hen frowns. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“But you need to do something, for your sanity,” Karen infers.
“Yeah,” Hen sighs. “I think so. Otherwise I might kill them, and then what will we do about the team? Bobby would be so sad.”
Karen laughs. “I doubt Maddie would appreciate it either. Might make our pizza nights a little awkward.”
“Just a smidge,” Hen agrees.
“Maybe they each, separately, need some tough love,” Karen suggests. “We could do that.”
Hen considers this. She’s given Buck that tough love before. Or even on less serious matters, he listens to her. Especially when they chat one on one. She thought, when he came out, that he’d come to her more. Seek out some queer advice from someone who’s been around the block. Maybe he hasn’t because he knows what she’ll say. Maybe she does need to take matters into her own hands.
“I can take Buck out for drinks,” Hen says. “He’ll crack open like a nutshell.”
Karen frowns. “Leaving me with the challenge?”
Hen snorts. “I don’t know if either of us can solve that Gordian knot of repression. Buck, though? Buck I can get to.”
Karen thinks.
“Hmm. Okay. Maybe I can use that to my advantage,” Karen says.
Hen knows that look in her eyes. She’s plotting.
“What do you have in mind?”
---
45 for 🩺:
---
When he first started, chasing some reach of a connection to his estranged sister, he’d been excited. Every shift felt exciting. Doctors might get all the glory, but Buck knew the truth. Because of Maddie, he knew the truth. Nurses were the bad ass heroes, doing all the work, saving lives. Especially in the ER.
A year or so in, a few really bad losses in, and he started to waver. He didn’t know if he was cut out for it. The tragedies, one after another. Then, just when he thought he got over that, Covid happened. And it got bad again. But things are looking up. Buck has made some good friends. Some good coping mechanisms. He’s been to therapy. His sister is back in his life, and in his ER. It had worked out for the best, when she came to Los Angeles to find him, that they were hiring for the position she’d left in Hershey.
Right now, things are good. He doesn’t start his shifts deflated or hesitant, but he doesn’t start them full of excitement, either. Instead, he just goes in with one goal. If he can help one person today, then it’s worth it. Even if that’s just helping them die in a more dignified way.
That Monday is nothing special. It’s August. There hasn’t been any city wide disaster. The waiting room numbers are fairly steady. Triage nurses are working at a good speed. It’s going to be a hot day. They can anticipate some patients suffering from heat stroke complications. Tourists, the elderly, etcetera.
“Good morning, Dr. Wilson,” Buck says as he starts his shift.
“Morning, Buck,” Hen smiles.
Hen is his best friend in here. She might just be his best friend, actually. Sister notwithstanding. Hen Wilson is an incredibly talented emergency medicine doctor. She’s dedicated. Smarter than anyone Buck knows. She never acts superior to the nurses or other staff. She has a great bedside manner that many of the other doctors lack.
---
45 for 🩹:
---
Not for lack of effort, on Buck’s part. He’s recently back at the 118 after the whole mess with the lawsuit. Everyone else seems to have forgiven him, even if Bobby is a little distant. But Eddie? Eddie has been outright hostile.
So what the hell is he doing here now?
Buck rushes down the stairs. He’s only wearing boxers. That will have to be a problem he sorts out later. He flicks on a light.
Eddie is standing in the doorway. No, leaning against the doorway. And he’s… He’s hurt.
“Eddie, what the fuck?” Buck yelps. “Are-are you okay? Do I need to call 9-1-1?”
There’s blood all over his face. His eye is swollen, will likely result in a shiner. His lip looks split. There’s bruising on his arms. He’s in a tank top and loose sweats. His hair is damp. Buck can smell sweat and blood.
“Do not call 9-1-1,” Eddie pants.
“What the fuck?” Buck asks again.
“Help me,” Eddie asks. “Please.”
And what is Buck gonna do? Leave him to bleed alone? Obviously not.
“Give me two minutes to put on pants and grab the first aid kit,” he says.
Questions can wait for later.
⥁
With the blood wiped from Eddie’s face, the damage actually looks worse. It had managed to conceal some of the bruising, which is extensive.
“Your lip might need stitches,” Buck warns.
“Doesn’t,” Eddie says. He’s holding ice over his eye. “Already checked it out.”
Buck sighs. “Your finger might be broken.”
It’s purple and swollen and causing him a lot of pain, as much as he’s trying to hide it.
a/n: so about five of you asked about 6x06, devil’s night, when jack dresses up as his dad for halloween. when y’all make the call, i deliver! here’s just over a thousand words of total fluff, thrown together in about an hour (please forgive my errors and tell me what you think!). this stands alone, but i’m throwing it in the ajf pile for good measure, as well!
words: 1.2k
warnings: language
summary: “we're taught to expect unconditional love from our parents, but i think it is more the gift our children give us. it's they who love us helplessly, no matter what or who we are.” ― kathryn harrison, the kiss
“..today it rivals only Christmas in terms of popularity.” Spencer and Emily come into the round table room, and you suppress a smile.
If you know anything about Spencer, it’s that his love for Halloween knows no bounds.
Emily sits down next to you, explaining, “All I asked was what he was planning to do this weekend.”
You hide your laugh in your file, looking at Hotch over the top of the folder. There’s the smallest pull in the corner, the threat of a dimple. He looks up at you, and the dimple appears for just a split second before disappearing again.
+++
Aaron’s anxious as you all wait for the go-ahead from air traffic control. He keeps checking his watch, and his leg bounces under the table. You’re the only two still in the cabin, the others took two other cars and are apparently taking their damn time to arrive from the precinct.
You throw a Hershey’s kiss at him. He jumps and looks over at you.
“What’s wrong?”
He sighs. “I’ve never missed a Halloween with Jack. I’m just nervous we aren’t going to make it back in time, is all.”
You offer him a little smile. “You’ll make it back.”
Just then, his phone rings and he answers it. “Hotchner.” A smile breaks across his face. “Oh hi, bud. Yeah. We’re almost in the air...Just a couple more hours...What?” He looks at you, and you furrow your brow. “...Let me ask.”
He covers the mic. “I’d imagine people in their twenties have better ways to spend Halloween than with an over-excited five-year-old and his boring dad, right?”
You snort. “Hell no. I’m in.”
And it was true - you didn’t have anywhere else better to be, and the lights in your house were already dark and had plans to stay that way to deter trick-or-treaters. There was no better way, in your opinion, than to spend Halloween with an overexcited five-year-old and his (allegedly) boring dad.
He shakes his head with a little smile and returns the phone to his ear. “Yeah, bud. We’re on for the three of us.”
+++
You sit on the floor of Jack’s bedroom, having been dragged in by two of your fingers immediately upon entering the apartment. He told his dad to wait in the dining room and closed the door behind him, so you imagine he has some serious business to discuss with you.
“I don’t want to be Spiderman.”
Your brow pinches. “Why not, bud?”
“The costume’s itchy and he’s not a real hero.”
You hum, thinking. “Are there any real heroes you want to be, or do we want to toss out the hero idea entirely?”
He considers the options carefully, the pinch of his mouth starkly reminiscent of Haley. “I think I want to still be a hero.”
“Okay. Do you want to come up with some ideas? We still have a little bit of time.”
A little bit of time was pushing it - Aaron wanted to get going before it got too dark out, giving them time for a movie before bed after Jack acquired his haul in the neighborhood.
An idea comes to him, lighting up his face. “Can you get one of Dad’s ties? They’re…” he looks up, remembering, “...hung up on the front of the bathroom door in his room or inside the closet by the light switch.”
“Of course.” You kiss his head, shutting the door behind you. You sneak down the hall and open Aaron’s door, trying to be as quiet as possible.
“You know,” comes a voice from the dining room, “I can hear you?”
You throw your head around the door frame. “No, you can’t!” ...And shut the door behind you.
In Aaron’s room, you find the little hanging tree with all his ties, finding one of the red ones he wears all the time and one of which he has about five near-identical versions, just in case something happened out in the wild.
You have half an idea of what Jack’s planning, but your only job right now is to follow instructions.
You throw the tie over your shoulder and make a play at sneaking back into Jack’s room while Aaron’s amused huff chases you down the hall.
Closing the door behind you again, you told up your prize. “I got it.”
Jack turns around, wearing the suit he got for Haley’s service. It’s only a little small on him, but he’ll probably lose the jacket anyway, working up a sweat even in the chilly Fairfax fall. “I’m gonna be Dad.”
A little smile pulls at you, and for some reason, there’s part of you that wants to cry a little. Nevertheless, you pull it together quickly, kneeling in front of him to tie the tie. “I think that’s a great idea.”
Jack puts his little hands over yours. “Can I try it?”
“Mhmm.” You put your hands in your lap, watching him fruitlessly tie knots, trying to get that crisp line Aaron manages every morning. When he gets a little frustrated, you ask, “Do you want some help?”
He nods, looking up and away as you undo his handiwork, giving him a four-in-hand knot that won’t eat him alive. You tighten it just enough to tuck under his collar, smoothing his jacket and fixing the ducktail sticking out of his shirt.
“Ready?”
He nods, and you open the door. Jack tucks behind your legs. “Dad, don’t look at me!”
Aaron, ever faithful, has his back turned right where you both left him in the dining room. “I’m not looking! Are you almost ready? ...Need any help?”
You nod at Jack, and he goes into the hallway. “No.”
“Okay.”
You keep your distance, leaning up against a free spot on the photo wall as Jack steps into the dining room.
“Whoa,” Aaron says, clearly surprised. “That is definitely not Spiderman.” He looks at you, but you don’t give anything away, a little smile on your face.
“He’s not a real superhero,” Jack explains.
“He’s not?” Aaron looks entirely the part of the confused father at the moment, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, a questionable orange-ish sweater. It almost makes you laugh. “Okay. I give up. Who are you supposed to be?”
You can hear the grin in Jack’s voice. “I’m you, Daddy.”
Aaron’s face softens and he walks over to his son, embracing him before picking him up. He looks at you over Jack’s shoulder. “Was this your idea?”
You shake your head. “All him. I only filched the props.”
Aaron shakes his head with a little smile you can’t read. Redirecting, he grabs his keys and his wallet with one hand, shoving them in his pocket. “Let’s go get some candy, my little G-Man.”
You grab your coat and Aaron’s from the coat tree, the bucket for Jack’s goods, and follow the boys out the door. You lock the door behind you, finding both of them waiting for you at the end of the apartment hall.
There’s no thought to what the other twenty-somethings are doing tonight.
Ao3 | 1.7k | Rated: Mature | Song-fic: Rescue Me by OneRepublic
References Buck Begins; callback to ep Merry Ex Mas with Maddie’s flashback about Doug and the christmas tree
trigger warning: Referenced domestic violence/abuse
Summary
What if when Maddie decided to leave Doug, instead of in the show when she just showed up at his apartment without any warning, she calls Buck and asks if she can come to him in hopes that he can be her escape even after not speaking for 3 years.
We don't talk much, not anymore
Broken bottles and slammin' doors
But we still care about each other
Say we care about each other
I know life took us far away
But I still dream 'bout the good old days
When we took care of each other
We were livin' for each other
When she’s alone, Maddie stares at the postcards wondering what could have been. When things are at their worst with Doug she looks at the first one Buck ever sent, the one from Georgia. The one where he said that he mostly forgave her for not coming with him and leaving Hershey and Doug for good.
She felt awful leaving him that note that day, doing the exact thing that he said that she should do for Doug. Hated herself for it. Hated that Doug had such a tight hold on her life. Deep down she knows that Evan had forgiven her, because why else would he continue to send postcards if he didn’t. So, she clung to those written words of forgiveness because they were the only hope, the only beacon of freedom that she could see.
The number of times she picked up the phone and dialled in his number over the years, just wanting to hear his voice. Hoping that he would hear the things that she didn’t or couldn’t say. But she didn’t, not wanting to drag Buck back home, to a place he didn’t want to be, into the mess of her life.
She wished she had told him that day he came to her after crashing his bike asking to come live with her, told him what was really going on. Wished she had been braver, wished she said more in that note. Wished she had listened to him when he said he didn’t like Doug back when he was just her boyfriend. Maybe then she wouldn’t be in the position that is she’s in now.
Maddie hates how much distance was between them now, that she couldn’t take her own advice and run. It had been three years since he left to find himself in the world. Three years since they saw each other’s faces. Three years since they had spoken to each other.
And now it’s Christmas and all she wants is him as she patches up her latest set of wounds in the bathroom. Disinfecting and covering the broken skin while staring at that first postcard and the most recent one from his fire station, imagining the person he has become.
It’s only after she heard the quiet click of the front door and the ignition of the car engine does she venture from the safety of the bathroom, postcards clutched in hand.
Feeling a moment of bravery, she searches out her phone, a cheap prepaid one that Doug didn’t know about that was bought with cash. Maddie dials the number that she has so many times before and hits the call button for the first time in as many years.
It rings and rings; so long that she wonders if he would ever pick up.
And then he does.
“Hello, Buck speaking.”
And she resists the urge to hang up there and then.
“Hello?”
“Evan,” it’s all that she’s able to utter.
“Maddie? Is that you?”
Maddie could feel the tears forming, blurring her vision over just hearing his voice again.
“Yeah Buck, it's me.” She hated how small her voice sounded.
“Are you okay? You sound strange.” Just hearing the concern in his voice, causes the tears to spill and she could feel her voice thicken with emotion.
“Remember when you said that I should just leave a note and work out the rest when I don’t come home?” Maddie says as she wipes away the tears trailing down and stinging the cuts on her cheek.
“Yeah, I remember.”
“I think- I think I’m going to leave that note now.”
Closing her eyes, Maddie grimaces as her stomach clenches at the thought of upsetting Doug further, of what he would do if she did, but Maddie knew that deep down that she couldn’t take it anymore. She was at the end of her tether and all she can do is hope that Buck will there to catch her when she lets go of it.
Maybe it was the tremble in her voice that he could hear or the fact that Buck could just hear what she wasn’t saying, because Buck’s response had a sense of urgency to it now and she couldn’t help but love him more in that moment, “Did you want me to come to you? I can- I can book a flight right now and be there in like 8 hours.”
“No. No, you don’t need to do that. I- um, I’ll come to you? See how bright that LA sunshine is?”
“Okay. Let me know how you’re getting here, and I’ll meet you. I’ll meet you wherever you need me to.”
The knot in her stomach loosened slightly in relief and with a hitched breath, all Maddie could think of saying was, “Thank you.”
“Of course, Maddie. I love you, stay safe.”
Maddie bided her time, waiting until the next morning when Doug left early to go to work. And then she left. Dragging two suitcases that held everything that was important to her behind her. She left behind anything that could be traced by Doug, withdrew what cash she could and made her way to LA.
She was exhausted by the time she got there, anxious, and constantly looking over her shoulder the whole time half expecting to see Doug’s calmly furious face trailing her. When she saw Buck waiting for her, she all but collapsed into the comfort of his arms, cocooned by his warmth.
It felt like a millennium since she last saw him, and yet it didn’t feel like any time had passed at all. He still felt like the Evan she knew, more filled out and sturdy, but her brother, nonetheless. Eventually pulling back out of the embrace, she surveys him properly and doesn’t see that lost kid anymore but a young man who looks like he finally found his place in the world.
“Welcome to LA Maddie.” He says with an easy grin, but it did nothing to mask the worry in his eyes as he catalogues the visible injuries.
They talk about everything and nothing, avoiding the elephant in the room as they get reacquainted on the drive to his apartment. His girlfriend’s place. The most serious relationship that he’s ever talked about before, and it makes her so proud to hear it.
Eventually, they do run out of things to talk about, sitting on the couch with stomachs full of a dinner he cooked, a bottle of wine shared between them. It's then that the atmosphere of the room becomes sombre, with Buck unable to ignore the reason that she was here with him, injuries on display.
Buck’s hand travels to her face and stops under her ear, cupping her jawline as his thumb gently runs along the fine cuts on her cheek, not unlike the way Doug did not even a day ago and it makes her heart race, frozen for a moment by that familiar action alone.
Remembering that it was Evan and not Doug sitting next to her, Maddie puts her hand over his and pulls it from her face not wanting to compare them in that way, even if there was a vastly different feel to the action. It's only then could she look him in the eye.
His face has always been an open book to her, full of life and expression and this time was no different. She could see the sadness clear as day and it broke her heart to know that she was the cause of it.
“I’m sorry.”
Maddie shakes her head and places a forgiving hand on his knee, “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known how bad it was.”
“But I knew something was wrong, I knew it back when I was a kid. I should have stayed and tried harder to get you away from him.”
“I didn’t want you to know. Didn’t want to bring my little brother into this.”
“I know you didn’t, but I still wish I did more,” he insisted.
There was only so much that she could say without the conversation going around in circles with her attempting to make him see that there was nothing to forgive. So, instead, Maddie just nods and squeezes his knee in appreciation to which he smiles a soft sad smile in response.
Buck drops his hand over hers and takes her hand in his, inspecting the small cuts on her palm from when she crawled on the broken ornaments, his face turning serious.
“Maddie… Would Doug have any idea that you’d come to LA to see me?”
“No, he doesn’t know that you live here—”
“That’s good.”
She continues “—But I’m not going to stay long though; he could figure it out if he tried hard enough.”
His gaze softens when he turns his attention back to her and looks her in the eyes with an earnest expression. “Stay with me. You’re safe here, with me, safer than if you go off by yourself. Just… let me be the one to look out for you for a change, okay?”
It’s not until he says the words, does she feel it, believes it to be true. The first time in a long time that she actually felt safe. Maybe this is the fresh start that she needed, maybe everything will be okay. Now that she has her brother by her side again, everything seems possible. She’s not sure what she would have done if she didn’t have her little brother to turn to with the knowledge that there would be no judgement from him, unlike their parents.
With her face streaked with tears of relief and gratitude, she sticks her pinkie finger out to her brother and says in her way of agreement, “You and me against the world.”
With the smallest of smirks at the phrase, Buck curls his little finger around hers, “You and me in the world.”
Would you rescue me? Would you get my back?
Would you take my call when I start to crack?
Would you rescue me? Uh
Would you rescue me?
Would you rescue me when I'm by myself?
When I need your love, if I need your help
Would you rescue me? Uh
Would you rescue me?
There her and Nixon stood. Getting ready for the big jump into Normandy. Mail call was being issued, and Y/N stood along with her fellow officers. She was the only woman in the Paratroopers, also an officer. An outstanding act for the United States Of America. First woman in combat on the front lines, leading charge of entire company. And now, she made it through two years of training, and she was here making the big jump.
"L/N! Lieutenant L/N!" called Martin as he mad his way around the men with mail. Y/N's head popped up from putting on the black and dark green face paint. Closing her small pocket mirror quickly and looking over at Martin.
"Over here!" she called, smiling slightly. Her closest friend Nixon walked up from behind her. She walked over to Martin who handed her an envelope.
"Here you go ma'am," Martin spoke as he turned and walked off. Shouting off some other Paratrooper's name along with piece of mail in his hands. Y/N turned, looking down at the envelope that rested in her hands. A smile coming to her lips as she ran her fingertips over the name etched onto the paper with ink. It was a letter from her fiance all the way back home. The one she was fighting in all this shit for. Just as she was about to open it, Nixon came over and snatched it up right from her fingers.
"What do we have here my fellow commanding officer?" he cooed as he read the envelope's information on the front. Whilst Y/N struggled to retrieve her piece of mail from the taller man. Who just kept putting his back to her. And with all the gear that was strapped to their bodies, it wasn't really hard to block the woman. She huffed loudly as she punched the back of his shoulder lightly. "Hmm, Marcus Jacks. Who's this, Y/N?"
"Oh come on, Nix! Give it back! It's from my fiance! I haven't seen him in like two damn years, a letter is the only thing I get to enjoy from him!" she whined. Nixon froze for a second. 'Fiance? She has a fiance?' he thought. He turned and handed the letter back. A strange feeling in his chest, with a strange feeling of sadness. Watching her eyes beam as she snatched back the letter, smiling down at it like Liebgott does with a Hershey Bar. Just what he secretly wished that her eyes would light up that way when she saw him.
"Fiance? You never mentioned a Fiance! We've been best friends for like two years!" He asked, hiding the hurt and disappointment well. Y/N just glanced up for a second and shrugged, sort of putting of Nixon's question. Looking back down at the letter and tearing it open carefully. Being just as careful when pulling out the piece of paper that held the contents of the letter. Nixon pressed his lips in a thin line and looked down at her his jump boots, nodding. "Guess I'll leave you alone to that letter then," was all he said before turning around to go see Dick. Who was watching the events unravel whilst standing next to Welsh.
See, Winters knew about Nixon's feelings towards the lone female Paratrooper. The truth slipped out after Nixon drank a little too much and when Richard asked him about his feelings, poor Lewis Nixon poured his little drunken heart out. Lewis wasn't one of romance or anything like that. But, with this particular woman. He thought he had fallen in love. After days upon weeks, upon months, and going on years of being with the woman. Laughing, drinking, shooting the shit, runs up Currahee. Lewis slowly fell for the woman, deeper and deeper. And now here was. At his demise. And Richard Winters saw the look of heartbreak in his eyes. Something he was shocked to see in his best friend.
He gave a sincere look to the approaching officer. He just gave him one of those sad smiles as he pushed past the two officers. "What's with Nix?" asked Welsh. Winters just sighed heavily as he looked at his boots. He pulled his helmet off and looked at the shorter officer.
"It's a long story," he answered as Welsh just nodded. turning to walk off to wherever. Richard looked up at the woman about thirty feet in front of him. Her eyes focused on trailing over the letter. But the superior officer noticed the look on her face as her eyes traveled farther down the letter. Something changed. Something not good. Her smile quickly fell into look of confusion and sadness. Her eyebrows knotted as pressed his lips together tightly. She swallowed hard and just quickly folded up the letter quickly and shoving it into her jacket.
Her head popped back up, Y/N could feel Dick's eyes on her. She turned and met his eyes. Richard raised a brow at her, basically questioning what the roller coaster of emotions she had just experienced. Y/N sighed heavily and walked over, knowing that it wouldn't be helpful if it was kept silent. Her boots patted against the pavement of the runway that was filled with planes.
"You alright Lieutenant?" asked Richard. Trying to search for her gaze as she just kept avoiding it. Y/N chuckled, it sounded sad, making Winter's worry and questioning rise. She finally looked up at the redhead.
"I could be better. I- um," she stammered. She could feel that burning sensation in the back of her throat build along with a hard lump. She could feel the burn of tears well up in her tear ducts. Quickly the female officer looked down, trying to compose herself. "My.. My Fiance says I have to make a decision. That.. That it is either him or the Army. He says that he hasn't been able to properly see me in over two years. And he can't do it any longer. If I choose the Army, he is going to leave me," her voice broke slightly as she looked up at the officer. A sad smile on her face. It was her own way of trying to tell herself that she was fine. That this wasn't a big deal. But in reality, this was a huge deal. Marcus was the only man she had ever been with. High school sweethearts since Freshman year. The ring he gave her just about a month she had left for Paratrooper training rested on his right ring finger still to that day. For two years she remained faithful. In hopes to know what she was fighting for all the way back home. And with the Army, he just wanted to ditch all of the hard work she put in to be the first woman that was truly in combat. The first female Paratroop. The first female officer in the Army to have boots on the ground in the war. The blood, sweat, and tears to even get into the Paratroopers after she went to college. The pain she went through, the discrimination, the harassment Y/N endured for years and pushed aside just to get to the bigger picture of the process. What it would do for woman in the country. But he wanted to her to just throw it all away just to come home. Just to be his wife.
"So, are you leaving? Is that what you're telling me?" Y/N just sat there for a second. She didn't know what she was going to do. She just sat and pondered for a second. There was so much to consider. But, Marcus was the only man she has ever been with. For years they were together. He was the love of her life. But, if he was the love of her life, wouldn't he want to support her through anything and everything. For Christ' sake, she was volunteering to possibly die for her country! Y/N was ripped out of her thoughts by a voice that belonged to her closest friend.
"You're leaving?" Nixon asked, standing behind her. He was just walking back to grab some food for his fellow officers, hearing the entire conversation. He dropped the three tins on the ground. The loud clanks and clatters of the metal rattling of the pavement rang off for a short few seconds. His arms dropped to his sides. Lewis never thought a heart could break this much. Well, not until now.
"Nix, it isn't as easy as you think!" Y/N tried to start, but Nixon just scoffed slightly. Chuckling sarcastically and placing his hands on her hips. His head hanging low as he shook it.
"You are throwing all of this away, for a man that tells you two. Wasting two years of your life. It is fucking D-Day, about four hours before we make the fucking jump, Y/N! That could be a dishonorable discharge! All the shit that we talked about, all the hard work you've done, just to throw it away?" he seethed. he wasn't angry at her, he was just confused. I mean think about it! She is questioning throwing everything away in a heartbeat, because a man that was supposed to be Y/N's rock and stick with her, can't follow through with his promises. And makes her deal with it.
"You don't get it Nixon!" she tried again. A few tears slipped out. She could feel a few eyes land on her as she glanced around. "If we are going to talk about this, can we go somewhere more private?" her voice was weak. Her head drooping low in defeat.
"No! We are going to talk about it right here!" His voice was loud. But it was filled with every emotion he was building up for years now. "You made me fall so fucking in love with you and our friendship, and now to toss it away like nothing. Shows how you really care about this country, your men, and your friends," Y/N's head shot up after hearing the words. Feeling like a red hot dagger stabbed into her chest. Her lips quivered as she was struggling to keep her tears in.
"Lewis Nixon! You think I didn't fall in love with you! After all the drinking games we played, late night talks in the map rooms, walks up Currahee, after everything. It was impossible for me not to!" She spoke, walking up to him and pointing a finger at his chest that was covered in jump gear. Her voice coarse as she pushed down the hard lump within the back of her throat. Y/N dug out the letter from her jacket, have a tight grip on it and holding it in front of his face. "But I made a commitment before the Army. Before the Paratroopers. And I need to live by it. I made a promise. No matter if he breaks his, I can't break mine. If I do that, nothing in my life has purpose anymore."
After her final words, she threw her hands down at her sides and peeled off her helmet. Turning back around and marching straight towards where the Colonel was. Nixon stood there, left gobsmacked and at a loss for words. His mouth slightly ajar as he looked over at the redheaded officer. Who looked just as shocked and upset as he was. Nixon just sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. What the hell was he left to fight for now?
///
Finally the rest of Easy Company met up in Normandy. It was now light outside, all Paratroopers dropped into D-Day that was alive seemed to all make it to the rally point. Nixon sat on a rock, staring at his hands. Still feeling the heartbreak and sadness that he was feeling when Y/N marched away from him.
"Nix! Nixon! Has anyone seen Lewis Nixon!" Called the only woman. Now without her jump gear and rifle in her hand as she ran around the groups of Paratroopers scattered everywhere. Lewis' head popped up, her squinted his eyes in confusion. She left, she quit the Army, there was no way she was here. Was he going mad.
"Hey Nix, is that Y/N?" Asked a sleepy Buck who was slumped beside a rock. He stood up and his eyes met with hers. Clearly he wasn't going mad. Because there she was, running toward him full speed. A smile quickly spread on his lips as darted towards him.
"Holy shit, Y/N!" he called as she ran into him, dropping her weapon and wrapping her arms around his torso. Lewis' arms tangled round her, engulfing her tightly. "I thought you were leaving?" he questioned as he pulled away out of the hug. She smiled and just grabbed his collar, pulling him down and smashing his lips onto hers for a second. Nixon's eyes widened but he soon shimmied his hands down to her waist and just melted into it. It was probably the best feeling he felt in his life right about now. A few whistles and cheers could be heard from the men around them. Y/N pulled away and breathes heavily.
"Fuck Marcus, I took what you thought into consideration. Turned myself around and went to my plane and made the big jump. God, I am so happy you made it," she said breathlessly. "I'm sorry for what I said, I never wanted to push you away. I never knew you felt that way, I just.. Just," Nixon smiled down at her and pulled her closer to him. Placing a finger on her lils to shush her before dipping his head down to kiss her once more, he whispered:
"God, I'm so fucking happy you made it too. Now shut up and kiss me."
Summary: *reading the first would help you understand this, but it's fairly easy to read as a standalone*
Morgan has reached the age where she knows wings are for flying and starts jumping off the furniture to try. Peter stops by the lake house and helps Tony with her. It all family fluff with some questions answered about wings in this universe.
Read on AO3
Tony placed the last pillows on the floor in front of the couch and turned to look over his work. Morgan was stacking blocks on the floor by the coffee table, her small wings resting on her back.
Like all children, they were more rounded then they would grow to be, and the feathers fluffier, more down than actual feathers. Her bare feet wiggled into the strands of the carpet as she worked on her block tower. Tony took a moment to settle his nerves.
Ever since seeing the birds outside flying, Morgan had been obsessed with trying to fly, which just wasn’t possible. The wings they had were vestigial, a remnant of an earlier time.
Humans were too heavy for their wings to carry, though they could glide and control their falls, which brought Tony to his redecorating of the living room and all the pillows on the floor.
Ever since Morgan got the idea in her head she could fly, she’d been pulling herself up on the couch and throwing herself off, just to let her wings try to catch her. Her wings were small, though, and the feathers were immature, so he was worried she’d get hurt.
The squeak of the screen door made Tony look up, and he saw Peter’s beat-up Volvo through the window. The kid was just starting college, and it was his first car. Tony had offered to buy him an Audi, but he balked at the suggestion.
The kid was stubborn at the best of times, and he didn’t like to accept anything that resembled charity. Not a bad trait, but it did drive Tony insane, especially when it meant he was driving a car old enough to register as an antique.
It was safe, though, despite its flaws. Tony didn’t budge about safety. He’d gone over the car personally, making sure it wasn’t going to break down, or worse, cause an accident. That gave Tony some peace of mind.
The door opened, and Peter stepped into the living room, plastic bags hanging from his arms and backpack over his shoulder. He transferred some of the bags to his other hand and then shimmied his backpack off, tossing it with a thump by the door.
A broad smile stretched across his face when Morgan looked up at him, her wings fluttering and then charging toward him. Tony dashed after her, but she reached Peter first, grabbing onto his legs and looking up at him.
“Piggy ride.”
“My hands are a little full right now, Momo, but I’ll hold you in a minute. Promise.”
Morgan huffed, her wings arching up and flapping again. She took off back to the coffee table, bumping into Tony’s leg on the way.
“Don’t mind me,” Tony said with a smile. He looked at Peter, the kid looked tired but otherwise okay. “Hey, kid, how was the trip? Your jalopy make it alright?”
“Thelma’s a champ. Though she’s burning oil like crazy still but that’s no biggie. I keep some spare on the backseat.”
Tony drew a breath, shaking his head. “I really wish you’d let me buy you something newer.”
“Me and Thelma, we’re connected. She’s ride or die, Mr. Stark. I can’t just replace her because she’s a little needy.”
“Yeah, whatever that means.”
Peter started walking toward the kitchen but paused when he passed near the couch. “Why are all the pillows on the floor?”
“Morgan is going through the flying phase.”
Understanding crossed Peter’s face. “Yeah, I guess I was really a handful then. May told me stories from my mom about me trying to fly off the stairs.”
“Shh, don’t give her ideas.”
“You know it’s normal, right? All kids go through this.”
Tony huffed. “Normal or not, I’m not letting my baby girl get a concussion.”
Peter went to the table and placed his shopping bags down, digging into them. He pulled out a package of Oreos and chocolate chip cookies with a grin. Tony raised a brow. Next came Twizzlers followed by Hershey Kisses.
“Really, Pete? You’re not giving all those to Morgan.”
Peter laughed. “Duh, I’m gonna eat some, too. Oh, and I got ice cream.” He produced a container of chocolate with marshmallow swirl.
“You’re putting her to bed tonight then, and make sure she brushes her teeth.”
Peter shrugged, taking the ice cream over to the freezer and stashing it by the frozen peas. “When’s Pepper coming home?”
Tony rolled his eyes. “You know, it drives me crazy you’ll call everyone else by their first name but me.”
“Sorry, not sorry, Mr. Stark. It’s gone on too long. We can’t change it now. It’s our thing.”
Tony shook his head, picking up the cookies and putting them away in the cupboard. “Pep should be home some. I need to start on dinner soon, but no treats until after, or I’ll never get her to eat real food.”
Peter turned, leaning on the counter. His gaze drifted past Tony, and then his eyes went wide. “Wait, Mo!” And then he was charging toward the living room.
Spinning, Tony saw what had startled him. Morgan was on the back of the couch, trying to stand, her wings flapping uselessly behind her.
Tony took off toward her just as Peter caught her in his arms, setting her on the floor. Morgan looked utterly put out to have missed out on flying, and Tony’s heart was still recovering from seeing her nearly jump. He hadn’t thought of putting pillows behind the couch. He’d thought she’d only jump off the arms or cushions.
xXx
Peter crouched down to be on Morgan’s level and brushed her hair back from her eyes. She was scowling at him. It was adorable how well she could pout.
“You can’t fly, Mo. I know it sucks, but our wings just don’t work like that.”
Her frown deepened, and she huffed. “Not fair.”
“I know it’s not, but there are lots of other cool things we can do.”
“Like what?”
His face scrunched in thought. “Well, uh, we can glide, which is nearly as cool as flying.”
He heard Tony sigh behind him. “Not to rain on your parade, but I don’t want anyone trying to glide either. Two feet on the ground at all times, them’s the rules. My house, so I get the final say.”
Peter rolled his eyes, making Morgan giggle. He tapped her nose with his finger and leaned in to whisper to her. “I’ll teach you to glide when you’re older. That’s what brothers are for.”
And Peter didn’t mind, and it was right that he be the one to teach her. It made him sad to think about, but Tony wouldn’t be able to take her gliding with his wings. Pepper could teach her, but if Peter was honest, it was something that he wanted to do with his sister when the time came.
Morgan grinned, seeming content with Peter’s offer. She turned and took off back to her toy hoard, and there wasn’t any other word for it. Tony spoiled her. They all did. Even Happy got in on it. And her Uncle Rhodey was always stopping by with cool toys. It was like a competition between him and Tony to see who could outdo the other.
Peter might not have had endless toys to bring with him, but he had something they all didn’t. He had raven wings, raven wings that made Morgan settle even when she was having the worst tantrum in history. She loved his wings.
Whenever they were together, she insisted he showed them so she could climb up underneath and let them settle over her. She was even getting better at preening. She didn’t pull on his feathers as badly as she used to.
Tony called over to Morgan, “I’m going to start the lasagna. Be good for your brother, Maguna.”
Peter grinned. “Of course, she’ll be good. I brought treats.”
Tony laughed, rolling his eyes. “Bribery only gets you so far. Just remember, you’re the one putting her to bed.”
Tony excused himself to the kitchen, and Peter glanced at Morgan, who was playing with a small, robotic dog. It looked like something Tony had built.
The down of her wings was puffed up, and some spots were being pushed out by adult feathers. She needed someone to preen to her wings a little.
Shaking his wings onto his back, he walked over to the chair next to Morgan and squatted down, resting his forearms on his knees. He peered over her shoulder, watching as she fed her doll to the robotic dog.
With the lightest touch, he rested a hand on her soft, downy wings. “Hey, Mo, whatcha got there?”
The small baby doll blinked at Peter as Morgan rolled her onto her side to better fit her into the dog's mouth.
“I’m feeding, Molly.”
The corner of Peter’s mouth tugged up. He shook his head a little. He was pretty sure this was just regular imaginative play and not some red flag about future problems. Morgan was just very creative.
Now that he was up close, he could see her wings better and brushed his fingers over the tufts of down that were sticking up. It wasn’t good to pluck the down, but he could smooth it out.
“I’m gonna preen your wings while you feed Molly. That sound okay?”
She nodded and continued her elaborate play. Peter gently ran his fingers through the down and feathers, letting them run through his fingers. He found a spot the down was knotted, and he worked it out.
“Ow!”
“Sorry, Mo. I won’t do it again. I think I’m all done. You want to do mine?”
If you had told Peter that he would be letting a child touch his wings before, he would have laughed, but now it felt natural. He wasn’t scared. How could he look at himself in such a bad light when the sunshine that was Morgan existed with wings just as black as his.
He carefully turned and got on his knees, so his wings were facing her, and a moment later, he felt her little hands ruffling the feathers. He let himself relax while she played with his wings. At one point, he was pretty sure Molly, the robotic dog, got involved and was walking across his wings. He didn’t mind, though.
He heard Morgan yawn, and he turned to see her looking back at him with tired eyes. Smiling, he got up and scooped her into his arms before settling on the couch, so his wings weren’t in the way.
Morgan wiggled into his side, pressing against him and touching his wing. She felt warm under his wing. The air was starting to smell like lasagna, and he knew dinner would be soon.
He didn’t intend to sleep when he closed his eyes, but he still drifted off, waking a little later to someone running their fingers through his hair. He blinked his eyes open, seeing Pepper looking down at him. Morgan was still tucked into his side.
“Hey, dinner will be ready soon. Why don’t you and Morgan get washed up?”
Sucking in a big breath, he yawned, dragging a hand over his face. He looked down at Morgan, who was still out cold.
Brushing her hair back from her face, he said her name a few times, getting a little louder each time. Finally, she stirred and looked up at him and then to her mother, who was still nearby.
Unlike Peter, Morgan didn’t need a minute to wake up. She went from zero to sixty in two seconds flat, launching off the couch and crashing into her mother’s legs.
Peter got off the couch and stretched his wings once before pulling them close and tucking them away. He wandered to the kitchen where Tony was cutting up the garlic bread. A bowl of salad was already on the table and the places set.
“Is there anything I can do?” Peter asked.
Tony shook his head. “Nope, I got everything under control, believe it or not. Maybe you can help Pepper get Morgan ready?”
“Yeah, sure, no problem.”
Peter could hear Morgan arguing with Pepper from the kitchen, and it only got louder when he got closer.
“I want my wings!” Morgan shouted.
“Sweetie, it’s better to put them away when we eat. It’s more comfortable to sit in the chairs.”
Morgan crossed her arms and huffed. “I don’t wanna.”
Peter walked over, kneeling in front of her. He tilted his head to the side. “Hey, Mo, we need to put our wings away sometimes. You can take them back out after.”
The little girl growled at him, honest to God growled. Peter glanced up at Pepper, who shrugged a shoulder. He looked back at Morgan.
“If you put your wings away, I’ll let you have an extra scoop of ice cream tonight.”
Morgan’s eyes widened just a fraction. “I get two?”
“Yep.”
She chewed her lip for a moment but then nodded her head. Squeezing her eyes shut and scrunching her nose, she pulled her wings tight against her and then made them disappear.
“Thank you, Peter,” Pepper said. “Do you mind taking her to wash her hands?”
“No problem. We’ll be right back.”
Peter scooped Morgan up and swung her onto his back, running towards the bathroom while Morgan squealed in delight.
After they were both clean and shirts a little wet from sprayed water, they went to the kitchen table, and Peter helped Morgan into her seat.
Dinner went well. Peter talked about starting college soon, and his budding relationship with MJ. Ned was coming to MIT with him, so that was cool.
Pepper talked about her meetings and how SI was doing, and Tony ate three helpings of lasagna while talking about how he spent his day with Morgan. Tony had become a stay at home dad, something that some people were surprised by, but those people didn’t really know him well then.
Morgan tried hiding her salad under a piece of her lasagna, but it didn’t go unnoticed.
“You need to eat the green stuff, too, Maguna,” Tony said.
“Don’t like it.”
Tony sighed, reaching over and picking up a piece of green pepper. “Eat this, and we’ll call it good.”
Morgan eyes it suspiciously but nibbled on the end.
Peter looked at Tony. “If it’s any consolation, I didn’t eat a single vegetable until I was like ten.”
Tony shook his head, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “You’ve been bitten by a radioactive spider, so your example doesn’t count.”
Morgan finished her green pepper and then pushed the plate away. “Ice cream?”
Peter laughed, getting up and taking his plate and stacking hers on top of it. “Yep. It’s chocolate with marshmallow swirl.”
Peter helped Pepper and Tony clean the table and pack away the leftovers. Morgan sat in her chair, watching them, swinging her legs.
As Pepper wiped down the table, Peter got a few bowls out and grabbed the cookies and candy, too. If he was gonna spoil her, he was going big.
“Do you and Tony want some?” Peter asked Pepper who was washing her hands.
“I’m all set, sweetie. Tony probably wants some, though.”
“Just a little,” Tony said, straightening the leaning tower of leftovers in the fridge.
Peter scooped Tony’s first, handing it to him as he passed beside him. Tony took it to the living room, finding his usual chair and plopping down. He filled the other two bowls with ice cream and tossed some cookies on the side for Morgan, leaving the candy on the counter for later.
After he put away the ice cream, he set a bowl in front of Morgan, along with a spoon, and sat next to her.
She managed the first bite with little mess, but soon, her face was covered in ice cream.
Sticky hands wrapped around the spoon and shoveled bite after bite into her mouth. She paused to nibble on the cookies, then her eye caught the Twizzlers, and any hope she wasn’t going to have a sugar high was thrown out the window.
He grabbed the Twizzlers and peeled a few out of the package for her, observing her as she chewed them. He didn’t want her to choke.
When the pieces got too slimy and small, he took them away and grabbed a wet cloth to wipe her face and hands.
The moment her feet hit the floor, her wings were back out, and she was running off at warp speed for the living room. Peter finished cleaning up the rest of the mess and then joined the rest of the family.
The only thing that was missing was May. Having her there would have made his night complete, but she had to work. Apparently, car insurance for Peter didn’t come cheap. He’d offered to pay, but May wanted him to worry about buying what he needed for college instead, though Tony was covering the actual tuition. He’d tried to argue it, but Tony had dug his heels in and made a scene. It was easier to just agree than keep arguing.
Tony was already looking drowsy by the time he got to the living room, stretched out in his recliner with his ice cream bowl and spoon on his lap. Pepper listening to Morgan ramble about her toy dog, nodding at all the right moments. Morgan was talking a mile a minute. Clearly, the heavy dose of sugar was having an effect.
Pepper looked up at Peter with tired eyes. She’d had a busy day, and Peter felt for her.
“Hey, Mo, how about we go outside, and I show you something cool?”
“Like what?” Morgan turned to him, head tilting to the side.
“Remember I said we could fly, and your dad doesn’t want you to glide yet, but there is something else kinda fun. It’s kind of like gliding.”
She pursed her lips and then nodded, tossing the toy dog down on the floor.
“Be careful,” Pepper said as Peter took Morgan’s hand, guiding her out.
“I wouldn’t hurt her. She’ll be safe.”
Peter brought Morgan down to the driveway and turned to face her, letting his wings fall onto his back. Morgan watched him curiously, a line etched between her brows.
“Okay, now watch me. You should be able to do this, too.”
Peter bent a little and let his wings stretch out behind him, flapping them a few times. He could feel the power they had, even if they couldn’t get him off the ground.
Staying kind of low, he began to run down the driveway, feeling the wind catch his wings, then he jumped, flapping a few times, and got off the ground just a little. It was almost like gliding. He managed to stay in the air for a few seconds, longer than if he hadn’t used his wings.
When he looked back at Morgan, she was already flapping her wings and taking position at the start of the driveway, a look of sheer concentration on her face.
Peter smiled at her and waved for her to go. She took off as fast as her little legs could go, and Peter hoped she could get some lift.
Once she was running as fast as she could go, she jumped and flapped, stretching her wings. She didn’t stay up long, but it was enough for her face to split into a wide grin.
“Again!”
Peter laughed as he watched her run back the other way and repeat the process again.
Eventually, Morgan began to slow as she tired herself out. Peter gathered her up and carried her inside. She rested her head on his shoulder as he walked. When he got back into the house, Tony was snoring in his chair, and Pepper was reading a book. She looked up when he walked by.
“Have fun? I took some pictures from the window. I can’t believe how grown up she’s getting.”
“Me either,” Peter said, still holding her tight. He ducked his head to see Morgan’s eyes were closed. “I think she’s ready to sleep for a few days.”
Pepper laughed. “She’s her father’s daughter. Give a few hours, and she’ll be recharged enough to go again. Of all things she could have gotten from Tony, she had to get his sleep schedule.”
“You want me to take her up? I’ll make sure she brushes her teeth and get her changed into some PJs.”
Relief washed over her, causing her shoulders to drop. “Thank you, Peter. Maybe we should be paying you when you come for a visit.”
He shook his head. “It’s no big deal. I always wanted to be a big brother.”
“Well, thank you again, Peter. Her pajamas are in the second drawer. I can give her a bath tomorrow.”
Peter carried Morgan upstairs, stepping into the bathroom first. Bending, he lowered the lid to the toilet and then gently nudged Morgan on the shoulder. She grumbled, but her eyes opened, and she looked around.
“Hey, little miss, we need to brush those teeth.”
Her bottom lip stuck out, but she wiggled out of his arms, and Peter set her on the closed toilet. He got her toothbrush ready and helped her brush her teeth, picking her up to spit in the sink after.
With that out of the way, Peter picked her back up and carried her to her room, setting her on her bed. He kneeled in front of her, untying her shoes and taking them off. He peeled off her socks afterward, sticking them in her shoes for now.
As he went to her dresser to find pajamas, he glanced back over his shoulder and asked, “Hey, Mo, can you put your wings away now?”
She nodded a few times quickly and then willed them away as Peter found her something to wear.
He helped her into her PJs, his wings still out behind him. Morgan grabbed the feathers for balance.
Once she dressed, a huge yawn broke from her, and she stretched her arms over her head. She crawled across her bed, grabbing her blanket and pillows and making something of a nest. He’d forgotten how young children found comfort in the primal activity. It was a remnant of times past.
She wriggled down into her nest and looked up at Peter. “Story, please?”
Peter smiled. “Yeah, how about I tell you the story of how I met your dad.”
Her brow wrinkled in thought. “He’s your dad, too.”
“Yeah, yeah, I guess he is. You’re right, Mo. How about I tell you the story of how we all became a family instead.”
I saw @wtffanfiction ‘s post on weird words to describe genitals...
and my friend dared me to write something with 100 of the words haha. there’s 108 in here i think.
i dont even know.
Word Count: 1317
It was 10:30 at night, the angel lay in her bed without a care in the world. Well, she did have one care: the human that she called with such sweet words earlier that day had not shown up at the time they agreed upon. They were supposed to be boinking about now. A little bit of horizontal monster mash, one could say. 30 minutes past ten, she was quite bored. There was nothing interesting on TV to sate her being, and nothing worth listening to or reading. She couldn’t even muster up any dirty thoughts to swipe at her tainted jewel.
Ugh.
Until...a knock at her door.
Begrudgingly, she got up, using her wings to carry her the short distance to the door. Lazy. Peeking through the peephole, she saw her human standing there, a bouquet of yellow and red roses gripped tightly in his hands. She opened the door slowly, and he gave a sheepish smile.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, “the dinner party ran super late.”
“It’s fine. As long as you do what you intended to do before.”
“I do!” he beamed, suddenly his pocket rocket becoming throbbing manliness tenting in the cotton prison of his pants. “I brought it just for you, my lance of love, for my love!”
“Ohhhh!” She crooned, her velvet underground becoming moist as he advanced toward her. Her pleasure pearl throbbed with need, as their mouths were on each other in an instant, tongues battling for dominance. He kicked the door behind him, scooping his angel into his arms and carrying her towards the bedroom. Her legs gripped his hips, and she could feel his coke bottle cock poking her hershey highway. He THREW her on the bed, shoving his shirt off, marveling at the way her eyes drank up his well defined chest. She crawled towards him on all fours, pressing her slender fingers around his MIGHTY MAN NOODLE, feeling its rigidness stiffen even more, massaging the orbs. “Do you like when I touch your organ? Your fuck stem, organic crotch gun, diego the explorer--”
“I know you’re trying to hit 100 words but that’s a little overkill,” the man frowned. “You can just say sperminator and go.”
“It’s hard, just like your engorged staff. It’s gotten so big and thicc I don’t know if it will fit in my haynannernanners at all…” She opened her mouth, licking the veins along the underside of his doggy lipstick.
“Oh that feels so good on my pulsing manmeat. This bulging soldier boy is gonna wreck your triangular area so gud beby.”
“I can’t wait,” she moaned, the DNA rifle still in her mouth, sending pleasures of vibration to the man’s brain. She swirled the tip of the holy wand, and the man groaned, digging his fingers in her long long hair. After a few more languid licks and sucks, his horrible wet mushroom was SQUIZRTING SOME BABY BATTER RIGHT INTO HER MOUTH.
“Urg,” he moaned.
“Aaaa,” she moaned back, milking the last few drops from his peenie weenie. His fuckfluid was very salty, like he had a bad diet. As soon as she popped off of him, iT (God’s pinky finger) WAS ROCK HARD AGAIN. She couldnt wait to get that cherry assassin deep in her damp canal of lust.
“Lay back,” the man said gruffly, kneeling to his knees. His tongue found purchase on her love nubbin, his fish pole fingers making their way to her weeping folds.
“Ur so wet for me beby...just for me and my giant sausage,” he groaned into her love pocket.
“Yes! Only for u, my man with the love tool! I never met anyone with a better male organism than u.”
“Really? You mean that? No one’s got a better you-know-what than me?”
“I mean it b. Hurry up now, my letter o be gettin dry over here,” the angel rolled her eyes.
“Oh yeah,” he said, returning to the attack on her valve. Suddenly, he detached from her clam cavern, his man-carrot spewing thick, hot princely milk all over the bed. “Your slit of ecstasy tastes so good.”
Damn, she thought to herself, I wasn’t even close. If his mauve avenger didn’t do the job, she would play with her kitty later after he fell asleep.
He snaked up to her, pressing hot fingers to her love pillows, pinching the rosebuds. “Was that good?”
“Yes,” she lied.
“Now it’s time for my pink stiff flobberworm. In your jewelry box.” (His crimson bird was hard for like the 3rd time).
“Yeah, I think my vagoo would love that.”
The man sat up, pulling the angel above his lap, over the one-eyed snake so her mayonnaise drain was directly in place to slide in easily. She sank down on the mayonnaise cannon, filling her up deliciously.
“Oh, babe, your communism stick is in my chamber of secrets so deep and good.” The angel readjusted herself, bracing her hands against his shoulders as she started to move her hips up and down his beef bazooka. His burrito, in fact, was so big she couldn’t even fit all of him in her moist core. COo.
She gave a sudden moan as the hungry dragon hit that sweet sweet geronimo spot deep inside her.
“Oh, ur tube flute game is so much better than your mouth frickle frackle. Yesssss daddy just like that,” she whined at the end. “SO good in my pleasure casino.”
“Baby, u feel so good on my kryptonian meat.” he gripped her anal fortress with such vigor, it was sure to leave small crecrents. He took a mythical berry in his mouth, teeth grazing the sensitive spot of her fun bags as his hips rose up to meet hers. He POUNDED into her at inhuman speeds, the angel groaning with every pump of his muatra.
He liked watching his dark spire go in and out from her forbidden fruit, the way his crown jewels slapped her poop cavern harshly every time.
“Do you like your formerly caged viper meeting my downstairs mouth?!” she purred.
“Yeah looks great. Feels great. Must be mine.” (why did i think of p!atd emperor's new clothes??)
Soon, but not soon enough, the angel felt a tight knot in her belly.
The tell tale signs of an orgasm (surprised they didn't have another word for it). It hit her like a tonne of bricks as she threw her head back in ecstasy, her chest balls bouncing from the force. Each in a different direction, just like anime girl tiddies. She was wrecked.
The man felt her penis trap tighten as her walls squeezed his hairy wolf dingaling. A few more thrusts of his hips had his hardened arousal squirt his liquid love deep in her man muncher, quickly turning it into a cave with honey.
They both moaned wantonly, so loudly that the neighbors were probably also getting off from their wonderful time of bumbin uglies.
He pulled out of her cum dumpster, his love muscle flopping against his belly, still leaking spaff a bit.
The angel flopped over next to him, feeling warm pale liquid seep out of her egg chamber onto the bed.
“Your midnight meat train never ceases to amaze me. Like why is it so big and so good?”
“Good genes I guess,” he laughed, “but your woman-tomato is givin me a run for my money.”
“That was fun, you can come use your mighty sword of eros in my cock garage again.”
“Can I use my sugar quill in your fart factory next time?” He asked, batting his eyelashes.
“Sure, why not. Only if I get to peg your man pussy too. So it’s even.”
She laughed, pressing rumblr spheres (and subsequently naked body) on his person, hugging him close. Of course, his thingy became restless manmeat ready for action in 5 seconds flat.
