#buck be like: facing the same direction in every shot

[housewifebuck]

Evan Buckley in every episode:

1x05

[alchemistc]

Tommy slumps further into the couch cushions, and the looks Eddie gives him is - dire, really. Tommy sort of wants to get shit faced and cry a little while cradling this throw pillow - the same one Evan had smacked him with a week ago while they crowded Eddie's too-small couch and Tommy had made fun of Evan for not knowing a single player on the Dodgers.

("You're actively rooting against them, why do you care if I know who they are?"

"Know thy enemy, Buckley," was Eddie's immediate response, and Evan had swung the pillow when he caught Tommy and Eddie fist bumping out of the corner of his eye.)

"Pretty sure it's actually cheating to come to me," Eddie intones, but he's already up and moving towards the cabinet where he keeps the good whiskey.

He settles into the recliner and gestures with the bottle, a very clear 'go on' in his expression.

Tommy thinks about maybe just - drowning himself in spirits and hiding under a rock for the rest of his life.

"I asked Evan to move in with me."

Eddie's brow kicks up. He purses his lip. Nods. His eyes do something that tells Tommy he is actively biting down on whatever it is he's thinking.

"And...you...fought. You fought about Buck ... moving in."

(Six months is such a short time, really. They've just leapt every other milestone like it's their damn job, and - Christ, they'd had keys to each other's places in weeks.)

Tommy narrows his eyes. "You know something."

"Yeah, and that's why this," he gestures vaguely in the direction of Tommy, fully pouting on his couch and commandeering too large a surface area for Eddie to actually join him there, "is cheating."

Tommy would love to point out that he just doesn't have a shit ton of friends willing to listen to him bitch about an argument he's trying to figure out without fucking imploding the whole goddamn thing. He'd love to point out that he and Eddie have already set these boundaries and Tommy is aware he's pushing it.

Tommy tilts his head against the back of the couch and stares at the ceiling. "Well if we can't talk about it, at least get me drunk."

Eddie hands him a shot glass and stands to go grab them both beers.

---

"So the thing is," Tommy says, slumped against Eddie's side and gesturing in front of himself. His hands are - they're a little blurry. Thank God he isn't on call. "The thing is."

He's got a hangnail that's been driving him nuts for weeks. He's already got a layout in his head for how to make Evan's wardrobe fit in his closet. Half of Evan's kitchen lives in Tommy's already, and he'd - he'd been sure they were in the same page.

"The thing?" Eddie asks, and - Christ, it's not like Eddie's having an easy time with any of the - anything. He's definitely overindulged right along with Tommy. Thank fuck they're not maudlin drunks, just what they need is two PTSD riddled idiots filled up with liquor and bemoaning their lives.

"What thing?"

"The thing, Tommy."

Right. The thing. "I love him," Tommy says, and Eddie's eyes go wide like he doesn't already know this. But Tommy - Tommy's said it in range of Eddie's hearing, right? He's - he's said it.

(The lone braincell shared between them whispers that Tommy has said it, once, to the curls atop Evan's sweaty head while Evan was still passed out on his chest. Fuck braincells.)

"Uhuh."

"What uhuh?"

You don't ask someone to move in with you when you still haven't worked up the courage to say I love you to someone's face, is the thing. And Evan's said it - happy and carefree and open even when Tommy just kissed him to distract him from Tommy not saying it back. He has to know, right? Tommy's said it in every other way he knows how.

"Listen, bro code broken, man, Buck's fucking terrified to mess this up with you and the whole 'you haven't said the words' has been, like, messing with his head for weeks, dude. And now outta the blue, hey move in with me? He's trying desperately not to assume you did something terrible and are using this to cover it up."

"He told you that?"

Eddie scoffs. He actually says 'pshhh', and rolls his head towards Tommy. "No." He enunciates too much. The 'o' is way too long in that word. It's a two letter word, how did he make it sound like seven syllables?

Tommy wants another shot, but Eddie had clearly not meant for that whiskey to be shared and it'd already been more than half gone when he pulled it out. There's...maybe half an ounce left. Fuck.

"Then how...?"

"I already broke bro code for you, dumbass. Can't you read between the lines?"

"Is this like the couch thing?"

The mindfuck of trying to decipher Eddie and Evan's little shared looks while Evan announced that Tommy's couch was his favorite couch had been -

He's getting off track.

He hasn't said the fucking words. He's in love with the sweetest, kindest, most beautiful, filthiest fucking man he's ever known and he hasn't said the words.

"Hamster wheel," Eddie says sagely, like that means a damn fucking thing, but Tommy's already fumbling for his phone. Texting that is out of the question, and he doesn't want to call while he's... more drunk than he'd care to admit.

Tommy shoves Eddie off his shoulder, and only gets a little spinny when he stands. He's a forty year old man, he can absolutely ask his boyfriend to pick him up from... his boyfriends best friends house and help him sober up so he can have a conversation.

"Water," Tommy says, and Eddie snorts.

"Toooo late."

Tommy feels about five years old when he shoves at Eddie's face before retreating to the kitchen.

---

"Tommy," Evan says, bent low over the couch, and Tommy blinks himself awake, regretting every drop of whiskey he'd drunk last night. He'd - there'd been water. An attempt at typing out a message. A slap fight in Eddie's kitchen when he decided to chow down on the last of the casserole Evan had left behind three days ago. More water.

This couch is way too fucking small for him. He's - he's still got one shoe on, and a blanket crumpled haphazardly over one leg. His head is pounding.

Evan looks - concerned. Maybe still a little annoyed. Fond.

"Ev," he manages, moving to sit up and regretting it when five million bees make a home right there against his frontal lobe. Smoke clears that out, right? He remembers Evan being super fucking proud that that had worked.

Evan holds up a glass of water that Tommy takes gratefully. He doesn't drink it nearly as slowly as he should.

When he's done, Evan stands, and - God his legs are long. Tommy loves those fucking legs - loves the hair that catches against his calluses on his way up towards the promised land, loves the strength behind them when he snaps his hips forward, loves the way they feel all wrapped around him when they're -

"We are not anywhere close to the sort of resolution necessary for that look," Evan says, and Tommy sighs. Because they haven't talked about it. Because they'd yelled and smacked their hands against counters and the explosion had sent them careening off in different directions and Tommy hasn't told him.

"Angry sex can be fun," Tommy wheedles, a little unnecessarily because he doesn't actually want - and on Eddie's couch to boot, which is absolutely not what he's angling for.

"I'm not mad at you," Evan says, and Tommy gives him an unimpressed look. "Okay, I'm mostly just - confused."

Fair enough. Tommy's been confusing. Tommy's been -

Tommy curls a hand around the meat of Evan's calf and tips his head against Evan's thigh. "Can we not do this in Eddie's living room?"

---

He doesn't want to admit that it took Eddie breaking all sorts of friendship rules for Tommy to even grasp the point of Evan freezing the fuck up when Tommy had mentioned his lease. He doesn't want to admit that he's fucking terrified, all the time, about the feelings in his chest that never quite settle, that bubble up at the strangest times because every-fucking-thing reminds him of Evan. He doesn't want to admit that he'd just leapt that hurdle in his mind even though Evan has been very clearly marking every other step with metaphorical (and sometimes literal) sticky notes.

Evan hands him his tea and immediately starts picking at the paper sleeve on his cup of coffee.

"I'm not afraid of losing you," Tommy starts, which is - the opposite of the point he's trying to make, and Evan's grimace tells him it's a bad place to start. "I mean that's not why I asked."

Evan is still grimacing. And that's - Christ, he hadn't even planned it, it was just - he'd been there, digging through Tommy's sock drawer, his shit tumbling out of his overnight bag at the end of the bed and his book on the history of perfume in the bedside table and his crock pot stewing something that smelled heavenly, thirty feet away, and he wanted that always, wanted that forever, wanted more than anything to enjoy all the little moments that came before he spent the money in savings hed been setting aside since successful date number five when he'd wondered if Evan had ever thought about getting married.

"You think I asked out of convenience, right? Your stuff's already there, might as well?"

"I'm not leaving things there on purpose."

"I want you to leave things there on purpose. I want all your things there, on purpose. Even when you move my milk to the fridge door and my sugar stash to the wrong pantry shelf and even when you replace my toothpaste because it doesn't have the right enamel protection."

His lip quirks. That had been a near argument too. Tommy was particular. Tommy didn't do great with change. Evan's changed damn near fucking everything, for Tommy, and he's never been more grateful for a single thing in his fucking life.

Tommy curls a finger around Evan's wrist, and his gaze darts up through his lashes. They're long, and distracting, and Tommy wouldn't mind shoving this disagreement to the side so he can brush his lips across the paper thin lids of his eyes, but -

"I missed some steps, getting there," Tommy admits, and Evan bites his lip like he's trying to hide a smile.

"My fault, a bit. I - I could see why you might have just assumed we were scaling 'em two at a time."

"Evan," he says, and breathes a sigh of relief when his free hand darts out to smooth the veins on the back of Tommy's hand.

"Next week is six months," he says, like Tommy doesn't fucking know that, and his thumb sweeps over Tommy's knuckles. "So, i -if you have anything you wanna say before then, you got a week before you can ask me again."

(Six months is the blink of an eye, actually, but Tommy hates every blink that doesn't include Evan in it.)

"You got plans?" Tommy asks, and Evan's face pinkens.

"If you're lucky I'll even tell you them."

"It's a date."

[demibats]

been thinking about richbuisnessman!eddie and how he would spoil you with gifts and jewels and different types of jewelry and clothes and accessories until one day he decides to get you an anklet with his initials on it and you surprise him one day buy putting on the lingerie he bought you a few weeks ago and putting the anklet on and everytime he hears it jingle while he’s thrusting into you he gets harder and rougher until youre both wore out 🤭🤭been thinking about doing a short fic on this but i would die to see your spin on it 👻👻

MY MIND IS REELING HOLY HELL. so i def took some creative liberties with this one because i wanted to stay true to eddie’s character, so in regards to him being a rich business man, i changed it just a bit 🤭 this has also been sitting in my ask box for probably near a year, but here ya go!!! changed it juuuuust slightly bc i believe that eddie munson is an absolute munch and eats pussy for his won pleasure. enjoy!

content warnings; smut (if you're under 18, do not interact!), fem terms and anatomy used, oral (f!receiving), eddie eating pussy because he loooooves it (and yes this needs it own tag), slight dom/sub dynamics, use of 'sir' as an honorific toward eddie

Eddie Munson is a modest man. With a wallet and dick that fat, you're surprised. Most men would be shouting from the rooftops of their penthouses that they're loaded, throwing hundreds at the dozen strippers they order every other friday night, just because they can.

But Eddie Munson isn't like that at all.

He doesn't live in some monstrous mansion or picturesque penthouse, he doesn't own six cars or a private jet. He isn't the kind of man to have a different girl in his bed every night, ones that really are only interested in him for his money. He's always been a gentleman and shot them down politely, but still met with a drink being thrown in his face or some uncalled for insult.

When you met him, he didn't give any indication that he had money. He wore a faded Dio shirt tucked into a pair of black slacks and a matching suit jacket. His thick fingers had scuffed silver rings, one for almost each of them. He had the most unruly curls you'd ever seen on a man. He flashed you a smile from your spot behind the bar, a toothpick hanging from the side of his mouth as he raised his glass in your direction, the men around him making comments about his boldness. From that moment forward, you were mesmerized.

The most difficult part about being romantically involved with him, was the gifts you'd receive from him. Eddie was very straight-foward with his wealth, he told you on your first date, to the exact same bar you tended. He told you he had toured with local bands from his hometown as an instrument and audio visual engineer. He made calls to different tour and musician managers to see if he would be able join their road crew. After a few years of life on the road, he managed to open up his own music shop. That's when the big bucks started flowing.

Despite knowing that he has more than enough money to spoil you with, you're still bashful and hesitant about accepting them. Hell, when he asked you to move in with him, you declined it almost immediately, not wanting to seem like you were financially leaning on him in any way. Even after you began living together, you maintained a 40-hour work week at the bar for some time.

The first gift, more like gifts, were beautiful bouquets of flowers he'd bring home to you. You'd be at home, curled up into the couch cushions with a paperback folded in your hands and in comes your darling boyfriend, ringed fingers curled around the green stems of another bouquet. Every Monday, he comes home from work with a fresh bouquet to replace your old ones. "To cure your Monday Blues, dollface," he'd say.

Then came the clothes. Every weekend he offered to take you shopping, saying something along the lines of, "Maybe we'll find something from one of those magazines you seem to actually read." Within the first month of living together, your portion of your shared closet took up the most space, at least a 3/4 ratio.

You feel beyond special, never taking his gifts for granted, especially since you're more than aware he knows he doesn't have to. He always tries to play it off, explaining how gift giving is just his love language. You might actually believe him, considering he gets his friends outrageous gifts as well, but it's different with you. There's a dark glimmer in his eyes when you tear back the paper encasing your newest present from your beloved.

Behind a deep maroon wrapping paper, lies a small white box. The name across the top of the box in golden script is of a jewelry shop you recognize. And it's not a cheap shop either. Lifting the lid off the box, your eyes flick up to meet Eddie, who's smirking, arms folded over his chest while a hand cradles his chin.

Once the gift has been revealed, a small gasp escapes from parted lips. It's a dainty anklet, sterling silver. As you lift the jewelry up by careful fingers, you notice the hanging letters. A less-than-subtle 'EM' charm hanging from it. It's also in a script font, making the 'E' look like a backwards '3'. A small gemstone sets between the initials, a beautiful cut ruby.

To say it's beautiful is an understatement. It's gorgeous, only something that Eddie Munson himself would think to be a perfect fit for his sweetheart. "Whaddya think?" He asks, though he already knows how you feel, more than confident at his gift-giving abilities.

"Eds, I love it. It's perfect, thank you," you chide, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips as another form of 'thank you.'

It isn't until Eddie decides that the two of you are going on vacation in Santorini that you ever really wear it. It's too ornate for every day wear, and a small part of you fears that it'll somehow slip or snap off and you'll have lost it.

Laid out on a reclining beach chair, you're soaking up the midday Grecian sun, shades perched atop the bridge of your nose and a mimosa in hand. The rental Eddie snagged for your two-week excursion was straight from a resort advertisement. The modern advancements made were stunning, but the architecture was true the city. You'd never imagined being sprawled out in front of a heated pool overlooking the beautiful seaside.

Aside from one of the many bikinis you packed for the trip and your sunglasses, you only had on the dainty anklet purchased by your lover. It settled against your skin and caught the sun's rays, making it shine.

"Look at you," you hear Eddie from over your shoulder. You hadn't heard him come outside, but the soft breath against the side of your neck made you jump, "spoiled rotten."

You can't help but snicker at his comment. He had made you this way with his expensive gifts, how could he judge? You decide to lean into this role of the 'spoiled rotten brat' he so lovingly teased you with, "What could you possibly want that's more important than me enjoying the sun?"

He knows better than to take the comment seriously, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he stands up from his crouched position, stepping to stand in front of the sun, "Wanna run that by me again, sweetheart?"

You see him now, in all his glory. Long curls pulled back into a bun, strands creeping out from either movement or humidity, you aren't sure. A pair of black swim trunks hang off his hips and a Metallica muscle tank has been pulled over his tattooed torso, the ink etched into his arms still exposed. Good enough to eat.

Pushing your shades up on top of your head, you roll eyes at him once they're visible, "Ugh, you're blocking the sun, Eddie."

The metalhead raises his hands in defeat, a small smile on his features as he steps to the side, allowing the sun to once again be soaked up into your pores, "Alright, alright. No need to get feisty. Come inside for a while, I made lunch."

Even though you felt assured you'd won whatever playful battle was at hand, you weren't sure you were ready to drop the facade. Though, you were getting hungry, and if Eddie cooked? Your mouth watered at the thought.

"Fine. But because I'm hungry, not because you asked." You taunt as you swing your legs off the chair's recline, sliding your feet into your sandals.

Following him inside, he opens the sliding glass door for you, like the perfect gentleman he's always been, before following you through the threshold, sliding it shut behind him.

As the two of you enter the kitchen, your eyes land on the empty stove and countertops, eyebrows knit together in confusion, "Eddie, you said you-"

You're cut off by Eddie's fingers digging into your hip, backing you up against the marble counter top. Lifting your gaze up to his, the breath is nearly sucked out of you at his imposing stance in front of you, "I might've told a white lie," he mumbles, eyes glued to where his hand meets your flesh. His fingers slide underneath the thin band to your bottoms before allowing it to snap against your skin, "but then again, your attitude needs an adjustment."

Even with his tone bordering on mean, he leans in and catches your lips in a passionate kiss, taking his time. He can taste the freshly squeezed orange juice on your tongue. A firm, tattooed hand stays at your hip, holding you in place as your arms slink around his neck. With both his kiss and touch still relatively gentle, the thoughts that you're able to process are that he'll remain stern with you, but not unreasonable.

The brunette brings his kiss to your neck, down to your collarbone, traveling lower and lower until he reaches your navel. Glossy brown orbs lock onto yours as he slides the bottoms of your swimsuit down your legs.

"Don't cum until I say so," he states, his tone brokering no room for argument, "Got it?"

You nod, hands already white-knuckling against the edge of the counter, "yes..."

"Yes what?" he questions as he brings your ankles out of the fabric, eye catching that gorgeous anklet.

"Yes sir," you breathe, head lulling back, shoulders slumping already at the thought of his face buried between your thighs.

He carefully brings your thigh over his shoulder, one hand gripping the flesh there while the other has a determined hold on your opposite hip. Before another word can be passed between the two of you, his face is pressed to your core, tongue flattening out to lick a slow stripe between your folds. Although he's taking his time, listening intently to every sound you make, no matter how quiet, he's relentless. Tongue dipping into your weeping hole, his nose catching on your clit every so often. He's tuned in with your body, it's subtle movements, the noises you make and what the different sounds mean. You couldn't derail his focus if you tried.

Your fingers weave through his umber tresses even with it being tied back with an elastic, "Oh fuck..."

He devours you, laps at the liquid arousal trickling out, the noises caused by his actions utterly obscene. Wet, slurping and sucking noises mixed with your combined moans were a perfect melody to him. Something he'd listen to every day in his headphones, on repeat, without pausing. He shifts his eyes up, his gaze burning the image of your shallow breath matched with the swift rise and fall of your chest to memory.

The grip you have on his hair only spurs him on, especially when you tighten it. Calloused hands drag down your thighs, keeping them settled at both sides of his head like a pair of noise-cancelling headphones. He feels the soft bite of cold metal against his back, then remembers the anklet. Popping off of your dripping cunt, his chin glistening in your arousal, he brings his your thigh off of his shoulder and brings his hand down to your ankle, fingers delicately tracing over the thin metal chain.

You offer a soft whimper at the loss of contact, half-lidded eyes locked onto his figure, "Wha.. Why'd you stop?"

Cocking his head to the side, he taps the pad of his index finger against the jewelry dangling off your ankle, "Just... admiring the leash you so willingly wear." He coos, the words filled with lust.

He dives back in, bringing both thighs onto his shoulders, face snugly between them. He doesn't relent until you're arching your back, shuddering with every flick of his tongue. Even then, he's still not satisfied, and neither of you. You're on the cusp of your orgasm, trying to let Eddie know, but he just gives three gentle taps to your hip and a disapproving grunt. His words ring in your ears, Don't cum until I say so ... Got it?

Just as you're sure you can't hold out on him any longer, he mumbles 'you can cum, sweetheart,' against your mound, then goes right back to his assault on your clit. You spasm, thighs clenched around his head to the point you're sure he can't breathe, orgasm tearing through your body like a ripcord. He slowly brings the aggressive flicks of his tongue to a stop once you're whimpering, out of breath, sensitivity having taken a strong hold on you.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, staying knelt between your legs as you catch your breath and return from the astral plane and back into your body. Though, he can't help but sneak glances at the silver anklet, and the 'EM" charm hanging off of it.

thank you for reading xx.

[gogogodzilla]

✧ 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟚𝟘: 𝐶𝑜𝑤𝑏𝑜𝑦 & 𝐵𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑒 𝐵𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑦 ✧

【𝑆𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑎 𝐻𝑜𝑟𝑠𝑒... 】

╰› 〖 𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠 〗: … ride a cowboy

╰› 〖 𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 〗: nsfw 18+, porn w/ plot, dirty talk, peeta calls reader "cowgirl," car sex, fingering, creampie, unprotected sex

╰› 〖 𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒 〗:  this is dedicated to the anon who requested cowboy!peeta mellark

✧ 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑡𝑜𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑚.𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ✧ 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑜3 ✧ 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑝𝑎𝑑 ✧

You loved it when the rodeo came to town. Not only was it a chance for you to make some extra cash and a fancy buckle, but it was also the perfect opportunity to watch some cowboys get thrown off various farm animals. 

The dusty warm air seemed to shift as the crowd buzzed with excitement. You adjusted the brim of your soft felt brim of your hat and took a deep breath, the familiar scent of dirt, leather, and hay swirling around you. 

Nerves bounced around your chest as you leaned against the cool metal fence. You were no stranger to the feeling, having been a barrel racer for years, but tonight was different. Tonight, you were focused on the bull rider that was about to take the stage and your heart along with it. 

Peeta had taken up bull riding with the same amount of determination and patience that seemed to define his every move. You’d been friends for as long as you could remember, you’d bonded over shared training sessions, late-night conversations about anything and everything, and the inevitable nerves right before a competition. You were amazed at how he transformed into a completely different person when he rode. A calm confidence radiated through everything he did, and tonight was no different.

You watched him from the sidelines, and your heart raced as he climbed into the chute. He wrapped the rope around his wrist and adjusted it every so often. His eyes were focused and his muscles tense, but his face remained calm. You wondered what was running through his mind. Usually, you attempted to drown the crowd out right before your advent, but it only helped so much when your mind was moving a mile a minute. 

The crowd’s energy was electric, and you all seemed to wait with bated breath for the gate to open. 

The gate burst open, and the bull shot out like a force of nature, bucking and twisting its body violently. Peeta moved with fluidity, gripping the bull tightly with his legs. He gripped the rope with controlled precision, almost as if he was anticipating the bull’s moves.

For eight heart-pounding seconds, the arena was completely his. A buzzer rang throughout the arena, signaling a successful run. Peeta jumped off the bull, landing in the dirt before scrambling away from the bucking animal. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, and you tried to fight the grin that began to form. 

His eyes moved furiously as he scanned the crowd, halting once he found you at your usual position by the fence. With a mischievous grin, he reached up and pulled off his cowboy hat, his light blonde hair tousled slightly from his ride. He neared your spot at the fence before raising his hat in the air, pausing just long enough for the crowd to notice. 

He tossed his hat in your direction, and, for a moment, it felt like time slowed as it sailed through the air. Out of pure instinct, you took a step back and raised your hands, your palms open. His hat landed perfectly in your hands.

For the first time in your life, Peeta Mellark surprised you. 

Your eyes widened as your gaze flickered between the hat nestled neatly in your hands and the man who threw it. Whistles and hoots erupted from the crowd, and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you wished the ground would swallow you whole. 

Peeta reached the fence, grinning ear to ear. “You know what that means,” he teased, leaning against the bars of the fence. 

You felt the heat creep up your neck at his words, knowing damn well the insinuation of him throwing you his hat. 

You clutched his hat in your hands, wrinkling the soft felt under your grip. “I didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter,” you mentioned, pressing your lips in a thin line. 

“You could’ve dodged it,” Peeta suggested, leaning in slightly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I’m glad you didn’t though.” 

You were painfully aware of the crowd watching the hushed conversation between Peeta and you. 

“I’m not riding anything besides my horse, Mellark,” you managed to force out, shoving his hat back in his hands. 

He shrugged, placing his hat back on his head. “I’m sure you can make some time for me afterward.” 

You pretended to think before responding, “Nope, I’m all booked up for the night.” 

He chuckled, “Fortunately, I don’t shy away from some competition.” 

You rolled your eyes, laughing a little. Before you could reply, the announcer's voice echoed throughout the arena, calling for all barrel racers to line up. It was your turn to astonish the crowds. 

Peeta tipped his hat in your direction, “Guess you better show ‘em how it’s done, cowgirl.” 

As you mounted your horse, your nerves from earlier had long dissipated, leaving room for a different kind of excitement. You caught one last glimpse of Peeta leaning against the fence where you once stood, watching you with the same teasing smile. 

You rode to the starting line, adrenaline pumping through your veins. The barrels loomed ahead, and you swallowed hard. The crowd still buzzed from Peeta’s performance, but now all eyes were focused solely on you. 

With a deep breath, you spurred your horse forward, racing into the arena with a newfound determination. Your horse’s hooves pounded into the dirt below you as you raced toward the first barrel. You leaned to the side, and your horse matched your movements, mirroring your actions and weaving tightly around the barrel as if she was born to do it. 

The second barrel was just as clean, your horse responding to every shift of your body and tug of the reins. As you rounded the third barrel, you hung on tight as your horse burst forward, kicking up dirt behind you. You released the reins only slightly, allowing her to stretch out, and, together, you flew toward the finish line. The world blurred around you, and for a second, all you could feel was the wind in your hair and your horse’s muscles coiling and releasing below you. 

And then it’s over. You crossed the line, and the crowd exploded into applause. You tugged on the reins, bringing your horse to a stop in front of the crowd. You panted as you ran an affectionate hand down her neck, congratulating her for a job well done. 

You heard the announcer’s voice crackling through the speakers, but all you could focus on is your time flashing brightly on the scoreboard. You just beat your personal best. 

The deafening roar of the crowd hit you all at once as you locked eyes with Peeta, who was cheering and applauding just as wildly as everyone else. 

Finally, you dismounted and handed your horse off to an attendant, giving her one last affectionate pat and promising her a handful of treats. 

You made your way over to Peeta, and he watched as you hopped over the fence, landing on the other side with a thud. 

“Well, cowgirl,” he drawled, the teasing lilt back in his voice. “You ride pretty well.”

You laughed, “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Still waiting on that ride though.” 

Your pulse quickened as you looked up at him. The two of you had been square dancing on the line between friends and something more, and you debated whether to push your luck just a little further. 

Fuck it. 

“My truck or yours?” 

Next thing you knew, you were perched on Peeta’s lap trapped in a heated kiss in the back seat of his truck. Your shirt is half unbuttoned, and your bootcut jeans have long been tossed to the side. Attempting to undo the buckles on both of your belts was a battle in and of itself.

Peeta ran a hand up the bare skin of your thigh as he worked at undoing the rest of your buttons, uncovering your lacy bra beneath. The tent in his jeans pressed against your clothed core, causing a shiver to run through you. 

“Feel what you do to me, cowgirl?” he questioned against your lips, his voice husky with an edge of desperation that had you aching. 

You nodded, leaning down to kiss him and run a hand over his covered length. Peeta jutted his hips up to meet you, his breath stuttering at your movements. His nails raked against your thighs as you touched him. 

Peeta was quick to repay the favor, pulling your panties to the side and dragging a finger through your dripping folds before circling your clit. Breathy moans escaped you as you shoved your head in the crook of his neck, lazily pressing kisses to the skin there while your fingers tangled in his hair. 

He dipped a finger into your entrance and you pressed against him, begging for more. He obliged you, slowly inching a finger inside you before quickly adding another, stretching you divinely. He pumped his fingers, savoring the way your walls fluttered around him. He curled his fingers inside you, brushing up against the spot that had you crying out his name as you rutted your hips against him. 

“Fuck me,” you whimpered, grinding against his fingers when his movements slowed. “Please, Peeta.” 

He removed his fingers, and your whine was cut off by him shoving his fingers past your lips, making you taste yourself. Your tongue darted over the pads of his fingers as you looked down at him. Peeta used his free hand to tug at his belt buckle, and you reached down to help him. The smooth leather brushed up against one thigh while the cool metal of his buckle pressed into the other. 

You reached down to where your hips met, unbuttoning his pants and yanking down his zipper, impatience coursing through you. You released his length from his jeans, earning a breathy groan from Peeta. You pumped your hand, sliding your thumb over the leaky tip of his cock. 

You aligned him with your entrance and a strangled moan left both of you as you slowly lowered yourself onto his cock. A sigh left you when your hips were finally flush. 

Your hands settled onto his shoulders and you began to rock your hips against his. Peeta rested his head against the headrest, releasing little pants and moans that increased in volume with every thrust of your hips. 

Peeta glanced down to where you were joined, watching as you ground against him. Your lips chased after his, nearly losing yourself in the feeling of him. 

You weren’t sure what came over you, but you plucked his hat off his head and placed it on yours as you rode him. Peeta groaned at the sight, and his fingertips dug into the flesh of your hips. 

“You’re killing me,” he whimpered, looking up at you with the fucked-out expression that you’d dreamt about. 

You grinned, “I’m just following the rules.”

Condensation dripped down the windows, and it made the air warm, thick, and hazy. It settled on every exposed inch of your skin, and Peeta’s hands glided over your ass as he helped you move a little faster. 

You chased after your high as Peeta licked and nipped the bare skin of your chest, his tongue on your collarbone and his hands roaming over the lacy triangles of your bra. 

He rested a hand on your hip and extended his thumb, drawing hasty circles against your clit. You swore against his lips as you clenched around him.

Your thighs ached as you jerked your hips against his, urged on by the pretty noises he was making. You were driven by pure instinct, chasing after the release only he could give. 

You arched your back against him as he hit that spongy spot inside you that had you seeing stars. His name fell like a prayer from your lips as you hit that spot over and over again. 

“Fuck,” you whined, leaning your head back. “Feel so fucking good.”

It took no time for your release to hit you, practically knocking the wind out of you as you spasmed around Peeta’s cock. Your vision went hazy as you rode out your high. 

Peeta’s grip on your hips tightened as he planted his feet and pistoned into you, pursuing his high. Your fingers tangled into his shirt as he used you, the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the truck. 

With one final snap of his hips, he came, his release costing your walls, hot and steady like the rest of him. It dripped down your thighs as you slowly pulled yourself off of him. 

You settled into the seat next to him, taking off his hat and resting your head on the window. 

“That was,” you drifted off, unsure of how exactly to describe what you just went through. 

“Yeah,” Peeta nodded, a grin tugging at his lips. 

Your features matched his, and you laughed. 

God, you loved the rodeo. 

[malum-forev]

Have Had You and Lost You

I promise I'm uploading Dr.Bee pt 2 after this one, sorry to everyone who was expecting that one but I CANNOT GET OVER EX HUSBAND BUCKY.

"You'll find the juice boxes on the second shelf," You hurry around your kitchen, heels in one hand and your perfume in the other one. "He likes his juice decanted and he'll probably tell you he likes it room temperature but, Wells thinks room temperature means a little cold so you need to put one ice cube in his sippy cup."

Bucky nods, trying his hardest not to laugh. "Decant, room temperature. When did our five year old become a restaurant critic."

"Sometimes I'm afraid we made a mistake by letting him hang out at the Stark mansion." You laugh. "Every time I pick him up, he's learnt a new word and needs to use it at least three times in every sentence."

"Last time he was at my house he called Bluey exquisite." Bucky throws his head back with laughter. As soon as the sound hits your ears you truly feel, for a second, the world has stopped.

It's that same uninhibited laugh that made you fall in love with him all those years ago. You knew his years of torment had built a tall wall around his heart, and having him share these relaxed moments with you meant the world. That laugh was a special thing only the two of you shared.

But reality settled in once he asked the question you've been avoiding.

"So, who is he?"

Your bottom lip became trapped between your teeth as you thought how to answer his question. His blue eyes shifted all over your face, trying to read any expression you gave him.

Maybe you should have told him the truth but, you had been finally getting along after a long and tiresome divorce. So, you decided on a happy medium, no answer at all.

"Hmm," Bucky scratches the stubble on his chin. "You don't want to tell me his name."

"I never said that." You point out, feeling the vein on your temple throb.

"Your tell is a traitor," Bucky hums, running the back of his finger on your temple. "Maybe you don't want to tell me because I know him."

"He's no one." You turned away from him.

"You were never a good liar," Bucky says with a dry laugh. "So, I do know him."

"It's hard for you to not know someone in town, Buck."

"He's someone from around here, then." Bucky's eyebrows shot up.

He has to give it to the mystery man, never in his life did he think someone would have the balls to ask his ex wife on a date. Especially not someone who works in the compound.

Bucky and you had decided it would be best if you and Wells kept living close to him, so the change wouldn't affect your son too much. You'd decided on the town closest to the compound. A sleepy town, a couple of thousand habitants, mostly ex SHEILD agents and their families.

"You're really not going to tell me anything about the guy?"

You slip your heels on, keeping your lips shut.

"Is he a doctor? A nurse?" You roll your eyes.

He continues. "Is he in tech?"

"Better yet!" Bucky snaps his fingers like he's just had the idea of the century. "He's a trainee and I'm his direct superior. That would be the cherry on top."

"We've been on a couple of dates," You finally say something. "Three to be exact."

Bucky raises his eyebrows. "The coveted fourth date."

"Don't." You roll your eyes. "It's not like that."

"I'm not judging," He raises his arms in defense. "I understand you need to get your fix, we're all human, doll."

You groan.

"What?" Bucky comes closer, a sly smile playing on his lips. "You can talk about your sex life with me, darling. I'm not the jealous type."

"Bucky," You say, your tone warning. "you can't be the jealous type."

"There isn't anything here," You wave your finger between the two of you. "To be jealous of."

As you look back up at him, his smile seems forced. Bucky tries to keep his cool attitude up but, you know him too well to believe it.

"I left some money on the countertop so you can order pizza." You change the subject, feeling the air become tense.

"Don't treat me like I'm the sitter." Bucky scoffs. "Wells is my son too, and I can most certainly pay for a pizza."

"I- I" You stuttered. Trying to rack your brain for an apology, maybe explain that you didn't mean it like that but it was cut short by two honks coming from your driveway.

"He can't even ring the fucking doorbell," He scoffs again. "What a catch."

You turn and leave without speaking another word to your ex husband.

As hard as you tried, you couldn't get Bucky's words out of your head. It wasn't helping that your date was more interested in talking about himself and his recent promotion than even asking how your day went.

When had life become this way?

Once upon a time you were a woman who wouldn't settle for less than perfection and respect when looking for a man. You'd even walked out on a fair share of "New York's Elite", which usually meant men working in the finance district who think their dick is holy.

Which is why, when the ever so charming and chivalrous James Buchanan Barnes came into your life, you swore off stupid and unappreciative men.

Now, you're ordering your third glass of wine just so you can bare listening to the man you've accepted a fourth date from.

The dish you've ordered is now cold, and you're in no mood to listen to another word.

And just like that, your guardian angel answers your prayers.

Your phone lights up with a text from Bucky.

Bucky: Wells is fine, fed and asleep. Answer the call if you need to get out of the date.

Not even a few seconds later, your phone rings.

You barely have any time to decide whether you should do this or not. But your body reacts faster than your brain.

"Hello?" You answer shakily, holding a finger up to your date.

"Is he a field agent or a computers guy." Is the first thing Bucky says.

"Wells has a fever? Is he okay?" You say.

"That bad of a date, huh?" Bucky says through the receiver.

Bad date was an understatement. Your date couldn't care less that your son was feeling under the weather, he was too preoccupied looking over the dessert menu. But not even if hell froze over would you tell Bucky that!

"I think it's best if I come back home." You tell your date, getting up from your chair with your bag and coat in hand.

"Wait! One last guess!" Bucky says on the phone. "He's the guy who's in charge of sharpening my knives."

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes." You mutter, hanging up the phone and leaving your date behind.

By the time you're back home, Bucky's leaning on the door frame holding two glasses of wine, waiting for you.

You shut the taxi's door and walk past your ex husband and into your house.

"Not a single word." You warn as you pass by Bucky, taking both glasses. You down the first one and get started on the second one.

"Should I keep guessing who the mystery man is or..."

"He's part of Banner's research team," You groan throwing your head back. "There, happy?"

"Happy that the mother of my child is dating some loser who can't even come to the door for her?" Bucky raises his eyebrow. "Of course I'm not happy."

"Well not everyone has the 40's mentality Buck." You sigh, looking down at piece of pizza Bucky heated up for you.

"You're worth it." Bucky's eyes look crystal as they look at you. "All the roses and the dates and the opening of car doors, everything I did for you was because you're amazing and you're worth it."

Words escape your mind.

"I was too much of an idiot to let you go." Bucky looks down at the floor. "But please don't let anyone who won't take the time to cherish you, have you."

"Because to have had you, and lost you, is a pain only those who've truly love you have."

Comments, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated! Would love to hear your feedback. K thankssss BRB writing Dr.Bee pt 2 as we speak.

[thebestbooksaround]

This is a Buddie fic rec list where "one of them isn't a firefighter" That makes me warm and happy every time I read them <3

Part 1 || Part 2

Exploding Coffee Machines by inkinmyheartandonthepage (@inkinmyheartandonthepage) | 9k | General

Buck couldn’t be blamed for falling in love with his neighbour. He was powerless against the Diaz boys and wanted nothing more than to be swept up in their everything. Buck thought that Eddie felt the same, that their feelings of more than just being platonic best friends was mutual. Buck had been hopeful that Eddie inviting him to his boss’s house to meet his friends and co-workers meant that they were taking a step in the right direction.

A step that now Buck was going to be late for OR Buck gets burned at work and worries that he's blown his shot with Eddie when he runs late to meet his friends.

What is Love For $2000? by fayevian 17k | Mature

On the screen, the camera pans down as they introduce the contestants. Mary, on her 3rd day winning streak, is a dowdy teacher type. Center stage is occupied by a graying man with loopy handwriting named Auggie. And all the way to the right is… Evan. Damn. --- One night when Eddie can't sleep, he discovers the hottest Jeopardy contestant of all time (objectively). With the "help" of his team and his fairly good working knowledge of Twitter, they devise a plan to get Evan (from Jeopardy) to slide into Eddie's DMs. It works surprisingly well.

i like you so much (it's kinda gross) by brewrosemilk, stardustbuddie (@gayhoediaz) (@wh0re-behavi0r) | 10k | Explicit

Buck Buckley (@/firefighterbuck): @/eddiediaz I’ll never be able to tug your hair now, huh?

Eddie Diaz (@/eddiediaz): @/firefighterbuck It’s against the rules, anyway. You don’t look like a fighter, though. What situation would we be in that would make you want to tug my hair?

(Or: Eddie is an MMA fighter and Buck thirsts on twitter.)

you make the world taste better by farfromthstars (@buckactuallys) | 11k | Teen

They follow the room numbers down the hallway until the last door on the right. It’s slightly ajar, and when Eddie knocks politely, it opens further.

“Hey,” a cheerful, male voice says. “You guys are early!”

When Eddie spots the source of the voice, he nearly swallows his tongue.

The man is tall, with broad shoulders and huge arms, a sunny smile on his face that looks so genuine Eddie can’t help but smile back. There’s a splash of pink over his one eye, his hair is just the slightest bit curly, and his eyes are startlingly blue. He’s also about 80% legs, and leaning on a cane to walk.

Belatedly, Eddie remembers that he should say something too, not just stare at this guy approaching them.

“Uh,” he starts eloquently. “Sorry. This one was getting impatient at home ~ Newly arrived to LA, Eddie decides to take his son to parent/child cooking classes. The instructor is so much more than he expected

stupid people. by brewrosemilk (@gayhoediaz) | 160k | Explicit

New in Los Angeles, and having recently admitted to himself that he's gay, Eddie figures that hiring a sex worker might be a good way to keep his private life cut off from his job and his son. A way to keep things from becoming too complicated.

It works. For a while.

your dreary mondays by hammersmiths (@henswilsons) | 33k | Teen

“Wait, you need a sitter?” Chimney says. Eddie nods. “Maddie’s brother got back in town a few nights ago, he’s looking for work.”

Eddie frowns. He doesn’t know much about this mysterious brother of Maddie’s – doesn’t even really know much about Maddie, either, aside from being Chimney’s girlfriend – but he’s pretty sure every time he’s been brought up in conversation it’s not been particularly inspiring. “Is this the brother who flunked out of college because he spent all his tuition on a motorcycle?”

Chimney colours a little. “Um. No?”

or, Buck babysits Christopher and Eddie is—fine about it, actually.

one single thread of gold (tied me to you) by heartbeatdiaz (@heartbeatdiaz) | 4k | Teen

Eddie doesn't know much about Chris' science teacher, except that he's his son favorite and apparently knows everything there's to know. ( Those were Christopher's words. )

So when he enters the classroom, expecting an old man dressed nicely but a little old-fashioned as the science teacher, his whole life crashes to a halt.

"Evan?" The man who's leaning against the desk, looking at some papers, suddenly startles and looks up at Eddie with wide blue eyes.

"Holy shit," It's what the man says after spending at least a minute opening and closing his mouth. or; Eddie met Evan when he was a bartender in Peru and Eddie was on vacation with his cousins. They had a one night stand and Eddie woke up the next morning to an empty bed and a disappointed heart. Just for the same guy to end up being Chris' teacher years after.

always glad you came by foxwatson (@eddiediazes) | 5k | Teen

Buck is the incredibly kind but incredibly straight bartender at Eddie's local gay bar. Eddie is trying very, very hard not to be pathetically in love with him, and is failing miserably.

“Hey, you’re back,” Buck had said, greeting him with that sun-bright grin, and Eddie had yet again been reminded why he’d started questioning his sexuality.

“Well, I get one night off a week. And tonight I could really use the drink.”

Buck’s brow had furrowed, and he got Eddie his favorite beer without even asking again what it was. “You need to talk about it? Assuming I read you right and you’re the kind of guy who talks to a bartender instead of a therapist.”

Eddie had winced theatrically. “Ouch. That obvious, huh?”

“Hey, man, you’re the one that told me you started coming here on your coworker’s advice. Feels like something you’d get from a therapist, if you had one.”

see the stars with my morning eyes by trippedandfell (@trippedandfell) | 3k | Teen

“So,” Buck announces, sitting down between Hen and Chimney at the concessions stand. “I think Eddie’s trying to get me to sleep with him and his fiancée.”

or: Eddie calls Lucy his partner. Buck extrapolates.

walking on sunshine by fallingthorns (@fallingthorns) | 5k | Teen

“Shut up,” Buck grumbles at the dog. “It’s not a crush.”

Buck walks out of the room, out the backdoor, and into the yard, trying to ignore his large and judgmental dog following behind him.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Buck tells him as he gets the hose out to start watering his plants. “Keep it to yourself.”

“Who are you talking to?”

Buck startles and drops the hose, doing a quick 180-degree turn and coming face-to-face with Eddie. He’s clearly standing on something, elbows folded over the top of the fence and chin resting on them as he looks at Buck. His expression looks almost fond and it kind of makes Buck want to both preen and die of embarrassment. -- Or, the one where Buck owns a doggy daycare, has a large dog with an attitude, and is hopelessly in love with his new neighbor.

Under Any Roof by moncuries (@moncuries) | 10k | Teen

Eddie Diaz does not need a noisy neighbor on top of all the shit he's trying to work out.

But he does make really good mac and cheese. -- “You know,” And Buck is meeting his eyes now. They’re uncannily blue. Like Kool-Aid or popsicles. “If you want, I could show you what I get up to up there?”

What? WHAT? Eddie feels heat spread from the tips of his ears to his toes. No way had he just gotten propositioned before sunrise in the decrepit hallway of their apartment building. “Um. No.” He backs up until his calves brush the door to 101. “Thank you, really. But no.”

my house of stone, your ivy grows by stayeven (@demieddie) | 7k | Mature

When Eddie resigns himself to buying sex toys in person—despite the popularity of online ordering now—he expects to be embarrassed and overwhelmed. What he doesn't expect is to leave with a crush on the employee with captivating blue eyes.

and we can stay all day by trippedandfell (@trippedandfell) | 3k | Teen

“So let me get this straight,” Hen says, once she’s stopped laughing at him. “Your nerd crush-

“-Evan Buckley,” Eddie miserably interjects.

“Your nerd crush,” Hen repeats, waggling her eyebrows. At the kitchen table beside her, Chimney is grinning like Christmas just came early. “Read your drunk tweet and then sent you animal facts via DM?”

or: Buck's a zoologist. Eddie's pretty sure he's in love.

[vanmarkus]

Just curious because I'm always wondering about that.. If you think tommy picked up on their crazy close dynamic in such a short time, do you think the others have too? Or is that just buckandeddie to them and they don't think anything of it? Hen's "about time" comment made me wonder what she thinks, if she had eddie-suspicions over the years or if she just picked up on a general vibe from buck

I think it's a bit of both actually. because Buck and Eddie? they are absolutely cuckoo insane about each other, like genuinely not-normal.

it becomes the most obvious when other members of the team are in danger; Buck stays relatively calm no matter how worried he is, he makes a plan and tries to scheme to save them.

like in the crossover episode, he waited for hours and then tried to steal a truck when everyone was out or sleeping, even though Hen could've been long dead. and Buck loves Hen, like a lot, a lot, they are family!! and when the Jonah thing went down?? with Hen and Chim? he was on the tailend of it, worried and upset and when Albert got hurt in that car accident? when Bobby was trapped inside a burning building with an active shooter and Athena went in there after him?? these are all people Buck undoubtedly loves like family.

he was worried, but he kept it together every time.

when the well collapsed on top of Eddie, he tried to dig through 45 feet of loose mud to get to him by hand. when Eddie got shot and was in the hospital, Buck flipped out and broke down more than once, but most notably when telling Christopher about it after finding out that Eddie's gonna be okay.

similarly when the lightning hit Buck, Eddie ran up the ladder without a safety line and tried to pull him up by hand; Buck weighs like 200+ lbs plus the gear, there was no chance in hell he could've done that and Eddie isn't stupid, he knows that too. Bobby had to banish him to the driver's seat to make sure he wouldn't be in the way, then Eddie barely parked the ambulance when he was already on top of Buck, taking over CPR, then proceeded to spend the next couple of days by haunting the hospital's walls like a grieving widow.

when the truck fell on Buck's leg, Eddie wouldn't let go of his hand and when he coughed up blood, he looked more than just concerned for that split second we saw him. when he spotted Buck after the tsunami and thought that he lost Christopher? there wasn't an ounce of blame on his face.

in conclusion, they have been always just very unhinged about each other, but I think because they all work in close proximity with each other day in and day out, it's harder to differentiate these things because even in real life, firefighters are like a family; they eat, sleep and exercise together, their blood family is just as involved with each other as they are, because that's just how close you get when you have to put your life into each other's hands all the time.

but Eddie and Buck (as pointed out above) are just taking it to a whole new level when you consider all the family stuff they do together and the will... I think at this point it's sort of a "well this is just Buck and Eddie, they might as well be married" thing for the 118.

I don't think it's something they actively consider to have romantic/sexual undertones, but they all understand that their bond is extremely strong, so they wouldn't be surprised if the relationship progressed into that direction.

in Buck's case specifically, I think Hen saw the signs before Eddie even joined the 118. especially since Buck admitted that he always checked out hot guys — I don't suppose that goes unnoticed when you spend half your life with the same group of people.

[pursuitseternal]

#1 and #20 for Astarion X Reader 😫🫣

“Wait to start begging… Use my thigh…”

UA Spawn x f!Reader | smut asks

CW: semi-public sex

You had the Elfsong all to yourselves. You had, of course, to tidy up the common spaces and see to having the party’s meal prepared. But aside from Withers who remained in his corner, basically dead, there wasn’t a soul around you.

Just you and your Vampire spawn.

He was enjoying the sun on the little balcony that shot off your suite of rooms. It looked out toward the graveyard, but even that seemed to make him smile. He smirked wistfully in the direction of his grave, the same one he had shown you.

The same one he had fucked you on…. Maybe that’s why he was smiling so cheekily.

“Hello my sweet,” he murmured without even turning as you joined him on the balcony. He leaned over the rail, bathing in the afternoon sun that slatted over the roofs around the tavern. His elbows rested on the wrought iron, the seabreeze kicking up the silver curls of his head in lazy swirls. “Care to join me?” he asked tenderly, opening his arm to you, bidding you to sweep into his arms.

Sweep you did. Nestled in the circle of his embrace he held you against him as he looked out over the city. The sun warmed both your skins now, the breezes playing in your hair, tickling over your cheek. His cool digits pulled your loose strands off your face to tuck it behind your ear. “You know, darling, for as much as I will miss the sun again someday, how I’ll miss feeling its warmth over my skin, I’m glad I have you. You’ll keep me warm, won’t you, my dear?”

His lips pursed and peppered kisses behind your ear, lowering down your neck to the crest of your bare shoulder.

“You always do like it when I’m… gentle, when I feel inclined to worship every inch of your smooth skin.” He chuckled, his chest pressed against you hard enough to make the waves of his voice rumble between your own ribs. Cool fingertips wound into your hair, caressing you and teasing…

Until they gripping hard against your scalp and yanked you around to face him.

Gods, he was delicious and devilish, smirking at you with wicked delight. “But… since we are alone, it would be a shame to waste this time being romantic and quiet and cooing. Withers doesn’t count. He won’t hear a thing, the old coot.” A flurry of lips and fangs on your mouth, his tongue danced with yours to coax a sweet loud moan from within you.

“That’s it, darling, show me how much you want me,” he rasped between your lips.

“Gods, please Astarion,” you gasped, breathless and aching.

But he only laughed. “Oh my sweet, pleading already? Save the begging for when I’m balls deep inside you…”

He pulled you close, that distinct press of his hardened cock into your belly making your heart accelerate. And the smile on his face meant he heard it too. He braced you against the high wrought iron railing, its top edge cutting into your back almost through the fabric of your dress. Those sinfully supple leathers pushed between your legs, hands rucking your skirts higher and higher until it wrapped around your hips.

You were naked beneath, used to these little stolen moments with you and your charming, demanding, loving Rogue.

“Such a good girl,” he praised, shifting to push his thigh against your bare mound, “now… use my thigh, get good and ready if you plan to start begging and pleading, my sweet.”

The cool leather warmed quickly against your folds, the smoothness giving you the most minimal of friction. So you bucked harder, faster, chasing your relief by bearing all your weight on the cords of muscles and the bone of his leg beneath. Your hands clawed into the soft, well-loved linen of his tunic, clutching firmly around his waist.

But it still wasn’t enough. “Please,” you begged again, looking into those devilishly glinting crimson orbs. “It’s not enough…” you whined as you slid on his slick leather pants.

Astarion giggled, a small testament to just how much he was enjoying your torment. “Then I’ll be merciful, but only because I hunger for more.” Gods, what a strong, well-fed vampire could do…. Not even a sigh of relief from your lips, and he had spun you right around. Hard stone wall replaced the metal edges of the railing, and his cool, hardworking fingers took the place of his thigh.

You moaned, head pressing into unrelenting brick and mortar. Unraveling, you came in an embarrassingly short amount of time, just a few thrusts of his fingers and a couple pinches of your clit. Arousal seeped down your legs, making them slick as he grabbed around them, raising you up.

You didn’t even know when he freed himself. Right now, all you knew was the blunted tip of his cock pressing inside you, slowly filling you up, inch by tantalizing inch. He laughed as he stretched you open, his lips sucking on your ear. “Balls deep,” he rasped. “Now… start begging, my darling…”

Astarion fic Masterlist | My Ko-fi

[havemybackanyday]

I started thinking about Buck texting Bobby every time he woke up, and my hand slipped.

---

Bobby is just beginning to prep breakfast at the station when his phone pings.

7:26am hey everything ok

It doesn't click right away—Bobby’s first assumption being that Buck is missing the job, maybe feeling a little left out. 

7:27am Yeah, everything’s fine here. Shift just started, you’re not missing much. Are you ok?

He watches as the three dots pop up and then disappear a couple times, and then puts his phone down to stir the eggs. He’s almost forgotten about it by the time the response comes in.

7:34am just checking

It’s then that the penny drops, and the realization breaks Bobby’s heart a little. He opens his camera and flips it around, taking a surreptitious selfie with A shift seated at the table in the background. Chim is gesturing animatedly, and Eddie is chuckling into a coffee mug while Hen rolls her eyes. In the foreground is half of Bobby’s own face, forgetting to smile as he concentrates on framing the shot. 

He sends the picture off to Buck.

7:36am We’re all here, all safe. We miss you. thanks bobby. miss you guys too

The next one comes in the following morning, just as Bobby is pulling into his driveway.

7:31am hey Hey, kid. All good here. ok, great sorry thanks No need, Buck.

Bobby knows there’s something Buck isn’t telling him about the coma dream and his place in it. When Bobby had asked him about it at the hospital, he’d been cagey, and since Buck got home, Bobby feels like he’s being tracked—like if Buck doesn’t know where Bobby is at any given moment, Bobby might vanish into thin air… or Buck might.

Bobby can be an anchor. He’s had practice.

2:12pm all good? All good.

They fall into a routine, where Buck will text “hey” whenever he wakes up and Bobby will reply with a checkmark emoji. It’s soothing for Bobby, too—this way, he knows Buck is sleeping, and gets a rough idea of when and how much. There’s always a text in the morning, and more often than not, a message also comes through in the afternoon. 

A couple days in, the afternoon text arrives while the 118 is on a call. Nothing serious, but several cars are involved, and Bobby is flitting around the scene, directing his people back and forth to where they’re needed. By the time he wraps up, Eddie is sitting half inside the truck and holding his phone, a concerned look on his face.

“Cap?”

Bobby pulls his own phone out of his turnouts.

3:42pm hey

3:48pm hey, bobby?

3:52pm i know it’s fine and i know you’re probably on a call but lmk if you’re ok when you can

3:54pm please sorry

Bobby takes a quick selfie with Eddie. Neither of them is smiling, but it’s not annoyance—it’s the same way they’d be looking at Buck if he were here, handling the call with them. No performing, just an ordinary moment in time. 

He sends it over.

4:09pm Sorry to make you wait. We’re good.

He looks up from his phone, and Eddie is watching him with pinched eyebrows. Wordlessly, he flips his phone around to show Bobby his own string of texts from Buck. Bobby sees his own name in the thread several times.

“How’s he doing?” Bobby asks.

Eddie blows out a breath and settles his elbows on his knees. “He’s… working through some stuff,” Eddie says, looking back at the text thread. He’s silent for a long moment, and then huffs a rueful laugh. “He seems rattled, which is pretty understandable. But beyond that, I don’t think he knows what he needs yet.”

“Well, until he tells us differently, the best thing we can do for him is to be here, and be us.”

Eddie nods, and they both swing into the engine.

That night, the ping of Bobby’s phone wakes him from a deep sleep in the station house bunks.

2:20am hey you awake

Bobby rubs a hand across his face. I am now. You ok? sorry i woke you No, don’t be. I’d rather you reach out.

Buck doesn’t respond; the three dots don’t even appear.

2:22am Did something happen? You alright?

2:24am just a nightmare You want to tell me about it? nah maybe later glad you’re ok, get some sleep

Bobby locks his phone and stares at the ceiling in the dark. He isn’t sure how much time passes, but at some point he resigns himself to the fact that his swirling worries won’t resolve themselves into anything legible right now. He swings his legs out of bed and heads upstairs to the kitchen.

Five hours later, he pulls into a parking spot outside of Buck’s apartment complex, a pan of cinnamon rolls in the passenger seat.

“Hey, Bobby.” Buck looks tired when he swings open the door, circles under his eyes, smile a little faded. 

“Hey, kid. Brought you something.” Bobby peels back a corner of the foil covering the cinnamon rolls, and watches as Buck’s eyes brighten.

He laughs and gestures to the piles of food on the kitchen island. “I don’t know if I’ve even got space for those, but I’ll move some of this out to the balcony if I have to.”

Bobby hands the pan over, and Buck lifts out a roll immediately, taking a huge bite that leaves icing on his lip. “Mmmmh. God. Thank you.”

He can’t help a smile at Buck’s enthusiasm. “Anytime.”

There’s a moment of quiet while Buck wedges the pan onto the overloaded island and finishes his roll. He’s licking his fingers and avoiding Bobby’s eyes when he says, “Sorry again for waking you up.”

“Buck.” Bobby waits for him to look up. “Don’t be. We’re all here for you—and not just because you got hurt. We’re here whenever you need us.”

Buck pauses, index finger still in his mouth. He pulls it out and says in a rush, as if racing his own hesitation: “You were dead. In my coma dream, you were dead. Because Hen and I never came to your apartment that day.”

“Okay,” Bobby says, nodding neutrally as the memories wash over him. The shame of waking in the shower. The helplessness of placing his pain in his coworkers’ hands. The rock-steady warmth of Buck and Hen on either side of him.

A vise tightens around his heart.

“Is that why you’ve been checking on me?”

Buck has the gall to sound ashamed of himself when he says, “Yeah.”

“Buck, you know—hey. Look at me, this is important.” Buck, who has shifted his gaze to someplace over Bobby’s right shoulder, drags his eyes back. “You know that my sobriety isn’t your responsibility, right?”

Buck nods. “I know, and I’m not trying to… fix things, or control things I can’t. I just…” He trails off, and his eyes are shining. “I don’t want to wake up again in a world that doesn’t have you in it. This version of you, I mean.”

“Oh, kid, c’mere.” Bobby steps forward and wraps Buck in a hug. 

God damn anyone who ever told this kid that his heart was a problem. 

When they finally let go of each other, Bobby holds on to Buck’s shoulders. Buck sniffs, and swats a tear off his cheek with the palm of his hand. 

“You’ve been through a lot, and I know you’re still sorting it out. But I also know how stubborn you are when you’re chewing on a problem,” Bobby says, drawing a wet laugh out of Buck. “I know you’ll find your way through it. And we will all be here for you. Every step, however long it takes.”

Buck nods, and breaks into a hesitant smile.

“And in the meantime, let us spoil you a little.” Bobby gives Buck’s shoulder a light jab with his fist. “We don’t want to wake up in a world without you, either.”

[diazheartsbuckley]

🚨🚨 🎓 🎓

Hiya Purple 💕

Here is 🚨

🎓 (High school sweethearts AU)

Accidentally switched this around, it’s supposed to be 🏫 (which can be found here)

Buck wanted to nothing more than to pull Eddie into his embrace, hold him close and never let him go again. 15 years of loving someone from a distance was more than enough. But when Shannon introduced herself to him, he smiled kindly at her, a smile that never quite reached his eyes and he felt his heart being ripped open and torn into a million new pieces.

And as soon as Shannon had introduced herself, Buck felt so goddamn out of place and even downright stupid for believing that he and Eddie could ever have a shot at love again. It didn’t help that she was dominating the conversation for a few minutes until she slipped away again, leaving Buck and Eddie alone again, standing a mere two feet apart but still it felt like they were a world away from each other.

“She seems nice” Buck said as he glanced in Shannon’s direction, watching her tug a dark brown curl behind her ear as she spoke to someone that Buck recognized from his and Eddie’s history class.

Eddie rubbed his neck, shifting his weight as he stood in front of Buck and he exhaled deeply. “She is, she’s a good person, she’s a good mom” Eddie explained like it was the most logical thing in the world to him.

“Right” Buck had to fight every fiber of his being to not roll his eyes to the back of his head. Not because he didn’t believe that Shannon wasn’t a good person or a good mom. But because he hated seeing Eddie with a woman. Because he hated seeing Eddie with someone else period. “Well, this has been fun. I need a drink” Buck added, without letting Eddie get a word in as he walked past him, letting their shoulders brush together and suddenly he was 17 years old again, fighting to keep his hands off of Eddie in public, fighting every urge to not cup his stupidly perfect face and kiss him silly in front of everyone.

He pushed those thoughts away as he made his way to the bar and he leaned over the counter slightly, trying to get the bartenders attention, thinking that he was alone. Or at least out of sight from Eddie. He couldn’t do this. Not sober at least.

“You kept it” Eddie’s voice came from behind him and it took him a moment to realize what he meant. In his weak attempt to get the bartenders attention, his necklace had slipped out from his shirt, revealing the black ring that he normally kept hidden. The ring that Eddie had given him on his 18th birthday all while making a promise that one day he’d replace it an engagement ring. Well, that didn’t happen.

Without answering, Buck tugged his necklace away again, hiding it away from the world just like he’d done with his and Eddie’s relationship for years before they finally broke up when they went off to college.

“Evan” Eddie said in a tone that sounded all too familiar. It’s the same that he had used when he wanted Buck to express what was on his mind.

“You don’t-…you don’t get to call me that anymore” Buck turned to face Eddie, staring into those perfect brown eyes, all while trying to not lose his composure as he took in the beauty of the man in front of him. He had missed so much of Eddie’s life. Eddie had aged so amazingly and Buck hated that all he could see when he looked at Eddie, was all the promises that he was never able to keep.

“Look, I’m sorry-…”

“You’re about 15 years too late with that one, Eddie. And I-I-I” Buck stammered, taking a shaky breath. “I still wear this because unlike you, I keep my promises. But I’m glad you’re happy, I am” The words tasted like poison on his lips and he hated it. “Please just… just leave me alone. I can’t do this with you”

Make me write ✍️

Using this as my wip wednesday

Tagged by @dangerpronebuddie @bidisasterevankinard and @spotsandsocks 💕

Tagging!!

@tizniz @watchyourbuck @wikiangela

@daffi-990 @steadfastsaturnsrings @diazsdimples

@wildlife4life @jeeyuns @housewifebuck

@babygirl-diaz @spagheddiediaz @spaceprincessem

@giddyupbuck @butraura @elvensorceress

@bucksbignaturals @bucksbirthmark @bucks-daddy-issues

@hippolotamus @himbobuck @jesuisici33

@honestlydarkprincess @rogerzsteven @devirnis

@loveyourownsmiilee @agentoutofdiaz @thewolvesof1998

@actuallyitsellie @actualalligator @exhuastedpigeon

@monsterrae1 @underwaterninja13 🩵🦋

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Say Please

This will fill the Begging space in my @jacklesversebingo card.

Summary: Ben knows just how to torment Y/N.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut. Pretty filthy smut. Dom/sub. Dom Ben (Soldier Boy) sub reader. Fingering. Rough fingering. Oral (m/f receiving). Cum shots. Facial. Slight humiliation. Demeaning language. Extreme orgasm denial. Extreme edging. Begging. Spanking (mentions of belt spanking). Semi-public sex. Waking reader with oral sex and fingering (so, slight somnophilia). Unprotected PinV sex. Mentions of punishment.

Pairings: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Reader

Word Count: 2,285

A/N: So, don't ask me what corner of my brain came up with this filth. I couldn't tell you. But I hope you enjoy the dirtiness.

It can be read completely separately or it can be read as a companion piece/sequel to Say Thank You. I envision it as the same reader, but there's nothing in either fic that says they have to be read together. They're both reader inserts, but Say Thank You is written with a second person POV (you), and Say Please has a third person POV (she/her).

Also, I promise not every entry for my bingo card will be complete smut. 😁 Incidentally, if anyone has any requests that spark in their mind from the bingo prompts above, don't hesitate to send me an ask.

Soldier Boy One Shots Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

“Ben, please.” Y/N’s voice was begging desperately, but she still whispered low enough to be nearly inaudible above the droning speech of the man discussing the latest polling numbers of Vought’s superheroes. It was all statistics, and percentages, and Ben was bored stiff, so he’d returned to his favorite distraction - seeing how much he could torment Y/N.

She sat beside him now at the far end of the room, and beneath the table, Ben was slowly pushing inside her, just giving her the tip of his middle finger while swirling his index around her clit.

He was simply continuing on with her torment from earlier that morning. 

She’d woken up to the feel of him sucking her hard, aching clit between his lips while penetrating her deep and rough with all four fingers. She must have been moaning harshly in her sleep because her throat hurt. As consciousness dawned, she felt her orgasm cresting, seconds away from erupting. Her sheets were soaked beneath her and she screamed out Ben’s name harshly just before he ripped his hand away from her and left her bereft and begging him to come back and finish her off.

But Ben had simply smirked. “Come over here and swallow me down, princess, and maybe we’ll see.” 

He crooked a finger in her direction as he shifted to lean back on his elbows so he could watch her crawl towards him and then slide her lips down his cock. She took him deep into her throat, hoping that making him cum would make him feel the need to reciprocate. 

But she should have known better. 

Instead, when he was close, Ben pushed her off his cock and back against her pillows. He stood up on the bed, towering over her like a Titan, and pumping his rock hard cock in his big hand only a few times before spurting white and hot onto her body. He covered her completely; her cunt, stomach, tits and face were all painted with his cum, and it left Y/N shaking for her own release. But he bucked his hips reflexively a couple more times, and then stepped down from the bed.

He sat down, naked, in the chair next to the bed and held a finger up as she started to rise. “Uh uh, my sweet little whore. You’re not going anywhere til you clean yourself up. Start by pushing some of my cum into your cunt.”

She looked at him, slightly confused, but he just smiled, his bright green eyes shining with the power he knew he held over her. 

“Push it in.” He repeated. “Use your fingers.” His voice hardened slightly. “But you will not cum.”

Y/N felt her skin flush, burning hot - part passion, part humiliation - as she scooped his still warm seed off her lower belly, and soft mound, pushing it along her seam and into her pussy. She was a sopping mess as she continued to push his thick cum into her hole. Her body thrummed, and her clit was so sensitive she hissed every time she accidentally brushed against it.

Ben’s next command made her almost want to cry. “”Rub that cum around and around that pretty, pert little clit of yours. Turn towards me and spread your legs wide so I can watch you.”

Y/N whimpered, but did what she was told, pointing her feet towards him before drawing up her knees and then pushing them down toward the bed as she took more cum from her tits and pushed the rapidly cooling liquid towards her core.

“Spread that pussy wide for me, doll, and show me how you touch yourself when you think about me.”

Y/N bit into her bottom lip as she circled her clit with her middle finger. It ached and throbbed so hard she felt like her whole body might burst if she couldn’t cum soon. But as though he was psychically linked to her body, Ben knew when she was, once again, mere seconds away from reaching her climax and he barked at her again.

“Don’t fucking cum, little whore. You’ll regret it.”

He didn’t expand on his threat, but he didn’t have to. Y/N was all too familiar with his punishments. His hands were strong and heavy and they stung badly when they landed on her ass again and again. His belt was leather and it felt like it was licking fire onto her skin when Ben cracked it against her, leaving wide, red stripes across her thighs, ass, and tits. 

But some of his worst punishments were based on denial. One time when she came without permission, he wouldn’t let her cum for a month. Her body had been just one, raw, aching nerve by the time the month was up. 

So as she circled her finger around her clit, her need made tears fall, but she held herself back. 

After a few more minutes of watching her, Ben was hard again and he ordered her onto the floor. She got on her knees but he lifted his chin towards her as he stroked himself. “No, lay down and fuck yourself with your fingers.”

She did as he asked, and he came to stand over her again. He stared down at her with a look of power and raging desire swirling together in his gaze. 

“Do you want to come baby?” He asked as he thumbed over the head of his cock. 

Y/N moaned involuntarily. “Yes, Ben, please! Please!”

Ben’s mouth quirked up in a cocky smile. “Say that again, slut. Beg me.”

Y/N nodded, willing to do anything. “Please Ben!” She cried out.

“Please what?” Ben asked, continuing her torment.

“Please!” Y/N practically screamed. “Please let me come.” Her breath stopped as she stared up at him, her fingers moving slowly in and out of her hole. She knew his answer by the gleam in his eye, before he even said it.

“No.”

Y/N moved her head back and forth in denial of his refusal. Once again Ben came hard, and spurted across her whole body, aiming more for her face this time. By the time he was done, she was a sticky, shaking mess. 

“You can stop now.” Ben told her and she pulled her fingers out of her swollen body. She could feel her core muscles quivering, her clit was painfully swollen and throbbing with need.

He nodded in the direction of the bathroom. “Go get showered and dressed. I need you with me in this boring ass meeting I gotta go to and we leave in a half hour.”

That had been nearly two hours ago, and Ben had spent every minute of their time in this boardroom teasing and tormenting her fevered brain, and writhing body. He’d started with simple, seemingly innocent touches on her lower back, and then slightly higher, wrapping his hand around her upper arm and brushing his fingertips against the side of her breast. Her thin white blouse did nothing to protect her from the electric charge of his touch.

Eventually though, when they were seated, he’d begun moving his hand beneath the cover of the tabletop. He set his gloved hand on her bare thigh and then slowly moved it higher and higher. Soon the pads of his fingers were rubbing against the soaked cotton of her panties, and then pushing them aside to sink a finger into her, while circling her clit with another.

Now, she was doing everything she could not to come, not to cry out her desperation; she was biting her lip so hard she could taste blood. Finally Ben pulled his fingers out of her and stood up. 

“I need the room, gentleman.” He said with absolute authority. The dozen men in the room just stared back at him where he stood at the end of the long table. They seemed surprised for a moment before he slammed his fist down on the table. “Now!” He barked, and the men couldn’t get out of the room fast enough. 

When they were gone Ben clicked the lock on the handle and lowered the blinds in the small window beside the door. Then he leaned back against the door and folded his arms over his chest. Somehow, in his emerald green Super-suit, he managed to look even more intimidating than he had earlier. She hadn’t thought that was possible.

“Get on your hands and knees on the table.” 

Unlike the men, Y/N immediately jumped up to follow his command. She climbed a little awkwardly onto the table.

“In the middle.” Ben directed. 

Y/N moved to the middle and stayed there, waiting for his next order. 

“Turn that gorgeous ass and pussy in my direction.” 

She shifted around, trying not to disturb the paperwork that still sat there.

“Push your skirt up to your waist, then pull your panties down. Lean forward on your elbows, forehead to the table.”

Y/N complied; she could feel the way her slick ran down her thigh, and she knew she was dripping onto the table. Someone was going to end up with her cum all over his financial report. 

“Fuck me.” Ben growled. “Those lips are just glistening, princess, just begging for attention.”

“Please, Ben…” Y/N mewled and she honestly wasn’t sure if she was begging him to fuck her with his mouth, or begging him not to.

“Say that again.” Ben’s voice was a deep rumble in his chest. She felt him come up behind her and she gasped harshly as she felt his palm crack down hard onto her ass cheek. 

“Say it, Y/N. Beg. Fucking beg.”

“Please, please, please.” She chanted and she prayed he didn’t ask her again what she was begging for, because she didn’t even know anymore. She just needed him - needed him to end her torment, needed him to give her release, to let her let go; she needed to stop the ache.

With her forehead pressed to the table top she pushed her fist into her mouth to cut off her scream as he leaned forward and slurped his tongue over her, from clit to cunt. Then he stepped back slightly, and used his two hands to spank both her cheeks at once with a fiery, painful sting.

But the pain was nothing compared to the ache of need shuddering across her whole body. Her cunt ached, yes, but so did her nipples, throbbing with every beat of her pulse. Her skin ached to feel him touch her, her lips ached to feel him press his mouth against them.

He returned his mouth to her pussy again, continuing to slurp and lick, and then spearing her deep with his hard tongue. He pulled back a half dozen more times, continuing to redden her ass. 

In the end, Y/N was just a sobbing, aching, dripping thing, pussy high in the air, ass decorated with bright red handprints, just begging and begging him to end her torture. 

Ben stood back to admire his handiwork for a little while. He circled the table looking at her from all angles. He approached her from the front and lifted her chin in his palm, contemplating her tear-stained, flushed cheeks, her lust blown pupils, and her lips - swollen and puffy from biting them over and over.

Her body, her face, her shaking, quivering cunt, her thick, red, fleshy ass - all of it was a work of art. He’d molded and sculpted this beautiful woman into this new creature, this fuck doll who was entirely his. He knew in this moment that there was nothing she would deny him, there was nothing she wouldn’t let him do to her, and that knowledge was an incredibly powerful feeling.

His cock was rock hard beneath his suit and he decided to be merciful and end her torment and his. He dropped her chin and walked back behind her. He unzipped and pulled his cock out. He climbed up onto the table, on his knees behind her; then he turned her so that they were looking down the length of the table. Paperwork and stationery went flying to the floor. 

He slid his fingers up through her slick and gathered it on his finger tips. With his other hand he yanked her head up and back before reaching around and shoving his fingers into her mouth. She gagged on them, but tried to swallow down her own cum. He shoved his fingers down her throat a couple more times just to hear that sound.

Finally he shoved her face back down against the table and slammed himself home in one hard, swift surge. 

Y/N did scream this time, and then he could feel it, her cunt clenching around him, tight and then tighter, her climax milking him. She came and came, screaming and cursing the whole time. Her orgasm was long and intense. And Ben smiled as she started to come down, and he smashed his cock head against her cervix. 

Y/N was shaking from head to toe, and he wasn’t sure if it was the lasting effects of her climax, or the knowledge that punishment was coming.

“You disobeyed me, my little whore.” Ben said, slamming into her one more time before he came deep inside her with a growl, bucking harshly and slapping against her ass.

As soon as he finished he climbed down off the table. Y/N turned her face to him, and he reveled in how wrecked she was, her expression begging pitifully.

“Please, Ben. I’m sorry. Please.”

Ben smiled, wickedly and without sympathy. “Not yet, baby, but you will be.”

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman @mimi-luvzyu @jackles010378

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous @k-slla

[that-bi-fan]

so. I don't think I'll ever finish this fic. a) I lost the motivation to continue it, and I don't want to force myself to keep going. b) even if I did continue it, I don't know where I'd go with it. so, without further ado;

Coma!Buck canon divergence! AKA Eddie's in the coma dream!

"Can you help me find my dad?"

Buck hesitates, his feet slowing for just a second, but it's enough to second-guess himself. He needs you, a voice in his head says, Needs your help. Help him, Evan.

He looks toward the direction he was going, and can't remember why he was running in the first place. Weird. He looks at Christopher and decides to help. It's what he does. Fix things. 

He smiles. "Sure, bud. C'mon." 

Christopher walks in front of him, Buck's footsteps falling into sync with his instantly. The hospital hallways twist and turn, but it doesn't seem to bother Chris. They walk in silence, and Buck stops walking to let Christopher get a little ahead. That's when he notices the boy's shirt flickering. One moment, he's wearing a dark blue jacket over a striped shirt, the next, he's wearing a white and yellow striped long-sleeve. The latter is soaked through with water. Buck's ears start to ring.

"Buck!"

He spins, looking for who yelled his name. It sounded like Eddie, but he'd never heard so much panic in Eddie's voice before. The hallway behind him is empty, but every single door is spattered with blood. Noise comes from all around him, voices yelling; "Firefighter down!", "A firefighter's been shot!", "Thirty feet of wet earth, coming right down on top of him.",  "We'll do our best.", "Are you hurt?" "Can you hear me?!" until it's all too much for Buck to handle. 

He stumbles, catching himself on the wall. Christopher sits in front of him, on a bed that doesn't belong in a hospital, wearing a green flannel button-up. "Hey, Buck," He says. Something in his head is yelling no no no wrong wrong WRONG. Buck sinks to his knees.

"Where's Dad?"

Now Buck can taste something distinctly metallic on his tongue. Eddie's blood, he realizes. He's wearing that damn white shirt, the one he threw out in this same hospital over a year ago. Eddie's blood sticks to him, in little dots. Half his face is covered in those dots. Christopher shouldn't be seeing him like this. 

He turns away, When did he stand? He can't remember, and finds that the hospital has shifted so that he's inside a room. Doctors and nurses are moving around quickly, trying to patch up someone on a gurney. Buck moves out of their way, but still, a nurse clips his shoulder. "Ah, sorry I-" Buck stops mid-apology when he recognizes her face. 

"Taylor?" 

Everyone in the room stops moving. Looking around, Buck notices other familiar faces on the medical staff. The doctor holding wads of blood-soaked gauze is wearing Ali's face. A nurse by the door looks like Abby. The one bringing in fresh gauze resembles Connor. In the middle of it all, on the gurney, is Eddie. 

Buck breathes, and everything falls back into motion. 

He rushes forward, grabbing gauze from Not-Connor. He practically throws himself onto the gurney, looking for the source of the blood, of Eddie's pain, but all he can see is red. The others don't even try to tell him to stop. 

Buck feels for something, anything, that would reveal itself as a wound. "C'mon, Eds, please. Come back. I need you." He puts a hand on Eddie's face, leaving behind a bloody handprint. Eddie's eyes snap open, and Buck can swear his heart stops.

"Hey, Buck. Good to see you." Eddie's voice sounds off, sounds far too calm for their current situation, but Buck can't bring himself to care. The bleeding's stopped. He's okay. He throws his arms around Eddie's neck and pulls him in for a hug. He fights the lump in his throat so they can actually talk, but when he pulls away, he feels himself sink ever so slightly. No, no no- He looks down to see he's knee-deep in mud.

Eddie doesn't look very worried for a man almost entirely buried in mud. Buck panics, trying to pull Eddie out. The hospital room is gone, replaced by an open area. Around him is his family, the 118, looking on as Buck struggles. Eddie says something, so quiet Buck barely hears it. He leans in to hear better.  

"I'm still alive down here!"

Rain starts pelting him. It soaks through his shirt. The blood that dried in it starts to run. He's stuck in the mud, watching in horror as Eddie sinks in further. "No! Eddie! Please-" Buck screams as Eddie sinks completely. He claws at the ground, feeling himself sink deeper. He looks at his family, his eyes pleading for them to help, but all they do is stare. He's almost neck-deep when he hears an echo of his own voice saying, "Wait. You all think he's dead." Bobby stares into space as he responds, "Nobody thinks that." Chimney has the same look on his face when he says, "We just don't know how to get him out." Buck is completely buried when Hen says, "Nobody's giving up, Buck. Nobody. We're gonna find him."

When Buck opens his eyes again, he doesn’t know where he is. It's like he's in an empty space. There's no visible light source, but he can see completely fine. It doesn't make any sense. When he was with Maddie, and later with Hen and Chimney, everything, sans Doug, seemed plausible. Like it was a normal, albeit weird, day. But with Eddie, it's like he's just reliving his greatest regrets and traumatic events, one after another. 

The shirt clings to him, half-dry already. 

Buck hears an echo of footsteps, and turns to find himself facing Eddie. "Buck?" He asks, "What are you doing here? Are you okay?" Words stick in Buck's throat. He's vaguely aware of a stinging pain, reminders of scratches that took two weeks to heal after the tsunami. "Eddie-" "Where's Christopher?" There's a roaring in his ears, a noise of chaos that he can hear, but can't see. 

"Eddie." It's a plea this time. For him to understand. Buck feels like his windpipe is collapsing. Eddie still doesn't get it, or maybe he does, but he's denying it. "Why do you have his glasses?" There's something in Eddie's voice that kills Buck. 

"I'm sorry." Is all he says. Tears roll down his face. "I'm sorry," he repeats, over and over and over, but no apology can bring back someone's kid. His best friend's kid. His kid.

"Oh, you're sorry? Sorry isn't gonna cut it, Buck. You lost my kid. How can I ever forgive something like that?!" Eddie's angry now, and rightfully so. But this isn't how it went. Right? "Eddie-" He starts again. "No, Buck. You don't get to try and apologize. Do you know what this is doing to us? Wake up, damn it!"

Buck blinks. "..What?"

Eddie rolls his eyes, closing the distance between them. His nose is inches from Buck's. "You heard me." He shoves at Buck's chest. Buck stumbles, not even trying to catch himself. He hits the floor hard. "Eddie, I-I have no idea what you're talking about." He uses his hands to push himself backwards, scraping his palms on asphalt as Eddie keeps walking towards him. Asphalt? Where am I now? Eddie grabs the front of his shirt, lifting him up. "I need you. I need you to understand." Eddie's voice breaks. His hands find Buck's. "I need you to wake up. You can't die. You hear me? Chris needs you, hell, we all need you. Wake up. Please."

Buck pulls away from his grip. He walks backwards slowly. "You're not making any sense, Eds. I'm here." Buildings start to take shape in the void, and they look incredibly familiar. Buck hits something solid. Metal, feels like. Eddie starts to change before his eyes. His hair grows longer, the bags under his eyes fade, he stands straighter. Buck turns away from Eddie as the sun shines bright in his eyes. “Wake up, Buck. I need you.” A second, unseen person interrupts.

“Diaz, you wanna ride with the kid to the hospital?”

The pieces start to fall into place. He knows what's coming. But still, he tries to stop it. “No. No- Eddie, move-!” Eddie makes eye contact with Buck as he speaks. “Yeah, that'd be gre-” “No!” A shot rings out just as Buck shoves Eddie out of the way. The bullet hits him anyway, tearing a hole through Eddie's chest and Buck's shoulder. Both scream in pain.

They don't hit the floor like Buck expected them too. They hit something soft. Buck sits up, realizing with horror that they're back in the hospital room from earlier, on the gurney. His shoulder stops hurting. 

“Two firefighters shot! Not much is known at this time, but one of them has so much to live for, and the other keeps failing to fix things and can't save the people he loves! How sad! I'm Taylor Kelly, signing off!” “Clear!”

Electricity burns through him, and he screams.

Memories flood his brain, memories of the shooting, the well collapse, the tsunami. Eddie bleeds under him. His blood pools onto the floor. Buck sees the rain, remembers the way he felt when he was hanging like a rag-doll. Remembers Eddie futilely trying to pull his dead body back up to the ladder. He sobs. Hands pull at him, yanking him off of the gurney, off and away from Eddie. Connor packs gauze into Eddie's wound.

“No!” Buck screams, fighting against the people separating him from Eddie. I can't let him die. Just as he breaks free, Eddie gasps, sitting up in the gurney. “Buck? What are you doing here? Are you okay?” He asks. Buck shakes his head. “Eddie- Eddie, listen-” He takes a step forward, and water begins to rise. It flows quickly.

By the time Buck reaches the gurney, the water is up to his chest.

Eddie sits on the gurney, watching Buck come closer. “That's a lot of water,” he remarks. Buck glares up at him. “Oh, really? Is it?” Out of the corner of his eye, Buck swears he sees a small body floating toward him, wearing the same clothes Chris had on at the pier. He ignores it. It's not real. It's not real. It's not- “Buck!”

Buck spins. That's Chris's voice. That's him! He needs help! “Chris?! Christopher?! Where are you?” He's treading water already, one hand gripping the gurney to anchor himself. The blood on his shirt drains into the water, coloring it red. Eddie leans forward, his mouth close to Buck's ear.

[lemotmo]

People on Twitter are frustrating me by closing and I need to share my thoughts on the whole bt/eddie thing if that’s okay lol

I don’t think bt is endgame by any means, but I genuinely can’t tell if the lack of chemistry between Buck and Tommy is intentional. As much as Tommy was in the episode you could have replaced him with any other character and do all of the scenes shot-for-shot (minus the joke at the end about how Tommy hasn’t been kissing Buck) and there would be no difference. If they were meant to endgame then you’d think there would have been at least hand holding, an arm thrown around a shoulder, or even just leaning against each other. Every other couple has casual pda in nearly every episode they’re in, so it doesn’t make sense that there would be none for Tommy.

If Tommy wasn’t written/acted as a bad partner in season 7 I don’t think as many people would be closing. He’s completely different this season but also still so condescending and it’s hard to tell if that’s intentional since Tim apparently didn’t think the daddy issues line last season was weird. Tommy getting a new ice pack for Buck was sweet but everything he did after that felt like how a parent would treat a child. Also that scene could have been done with the two of them lying in bed together instead, which has to mean something.

It seems like the conflict between them is going to be Tommy feeling left out of the 118 family and maybe feeling jealous because of it. I’m a little worried with how that’s going to play out if they make Buck be at fault for not including his boyfriend more, but at the same time it’s insane that Tommy apparently doesn’t know who Sargent Grant is after months of dating. I’m so curious to see what big thing from Tommy’s past is going to come up that’s not his history of racism and sexism. Given the graveyard scene and how Buck was talking about the importance of showing up and being there for people, my current theory is that Tommy is Abby’s ex who left her once her mom got sick. 911 is insane enough to do that plus it would directly conflict with Buck’s closing monologue.

Idk if any of that made sense lol, I’m just tired of seeing people constantly talk about how buddie/gay eddie shouldn’t be rushed while at the same time being mad that they haven’t confessed their love for each other by episode 5 and only 2 episodes after the opening disaster. I’m not going to close unless we get zero movement in that direction by the mid season finale.

I feel and share your frustration Nonny. We have 13 more episodes to go. Let the show tell the story they want to tell and let's give this story some time to breathe and build.

I don't personally believe that Tommy will turn out to be Abby's ex. I'm really thinking the hurdles they'll be facing will be the glaringly obvious fact that they don't mesh well together. I'm pretty sure the lack of romantic intimacy we saw in episode 5 is intentional. Maybe Buck will finally realise sticking it out with someone if you aren't all in, is not the way to go. They aren't compatible and the 'spark' isn't there. That should be enough to break them up.

We'll just have to be patient and watch episode 6 to see what's going on.

[taylor9736]

The Page Turner

Jess Mariano x fem!reader

Warnings: none

The small bell above the door of ‘Luke’s Diner’ rang, signaling yet another customer entering the familiar space. Jess Mariano didn’t bother looking up from the book in his hand. He was halfway through a chapter, completely absorbed in the words, but then he heard a voice—a new voice.

“Hey, can I get a cup of coffee to go?”

That caught his attention.

Jess looked up to see you, standing at the counter with a soft smile. You had y/h/c hair that fell just past your shoulders and y/e/c eyes that sparkled with curiosity as you glanced around the diner. You weren’t a regular, that much was clear, and Stars Hollow wasn’t exactly known for new faces. Intrigued, Jess shut his book with a quiet thud.

“Sure thing,” Luke grunted from behind the counter. “You new in town?”

You chuckled, a sound that made Jess’s chest tighten for reasons he couldn’t quite explain. “Yeah, just visiting for a while. My aunt lives here.”

“Ah, got it,” Luke said, pouring the coffee into a paper cup and sliding it across the counter. “That’ll be two bucks.”

As you reached for your wallet, Jess found himself lingering on every detail—the way you carried yourself with an ease that was foreign to the chaotic rush of the diner, the calm confidence in your voice. You were… different.

He wasn’t sure why he spoke up, but the words left his mouth before he could stop them. “You won’t like that coffee.”

You turned toward him, surprised by the comment. “What makes you say that?”

Jess smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Just trust me. Luke’s coffee is basically hot mud in a cup. You want good coffee, you gotta try Weston’s, down the street.”

Luke shot Jess a look, but you seemed amused by the banter. You raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

Jess shrugged. “If you like actually enjoying what you drink, yeah.”

You grinned, a spark of playful challenge in your eyes. “Well, I guess I’ll have to see for myself, then.”

Before Jess could reply, you grabbed your coffee, thanked Luke, and turned to leave. But just before you stepped outside, you looked back at him, your y/e/c eyes locking with his for a brief second that seemed to stretch into eternity. There was something in that look, something that made Jess sit up a little straighter.

And then you were gone, the bell jingling as the door closed behind you.

Jess stared at the empty space where you had stood, his mind racing in a way that it hadn’t in a long time. He hadn’t felt this kind of pull toward anyone in forever—if ever.

“She’s outta your league,” Luke said from behind the counter, shaking his head as he wiped down the surface.

Jess scoffed, but couldn’t hide the slight smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

---

The next day, Jess found himself walking past Weston’s Coffee almost instinctively. He wasn’t usually one to go out of his way for anyone, but something about you had gotten under his skin. He didn’t know if it was the way you had smiled at him like you could see right through his smart remarks or the fact that you didn’t seem fazed by his sarcasm. Either way, he wanted to know more.

As he passed the window, there you were, sitting alone at one of the tables, a book open in front of you and that same paper cup from Luke’s in your hand. You were sipping it slowly, a look of concentration on your face as you read.

Without really thinking, Jess opened the door and walked in.

You glanced up, surprised but not unpleasantly so, and gave him a small smile. “Let me guess—here to tell me Weston’s has better coffee?”

Jess shrugged, slipping into the chair across from you without asking. “Just checking to see if I was right.”

You held up the cup, now almost empty, and smirked. “Luke’s wasn’t that bad. But maybe I’ll give Weston’s a try next time.”

He grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Told you.”

You closed your book, studying him with curious eyes. “So, what’s your deal?”

Jess blinked, a little taken aback by the directness of the question. “My deal?”

“Yeah,” you said, leaning forward a little. “You seem like the kind of guy who’s always got something going on. So, what’s your deal?”

He chuckled, impressed by how straightforward you were. Most people didn’t dare try to get to know him, especially this quickly. “No deal,” he said, shrugging. “Just a guy who reads too much and drinks bad coffee.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “I find that hard to believe.”

Jess raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh yeah? And what’s your deal?”

You smiled. “Y/N, visiting Stars Hollow for a bit. Trying to avoid too much small-town gossip.”

He nodded. “Good luck with that.”

There was a comfortable silence for a moment, and Jess found himself surprised at how easy it was to sit here with you. Usually, he had his guard up, always ready with a sarcastic remark or a way to push people away. But with you, he felt… calm.

After a beat, you glanced at the book in front of him. “What are you reading?”

Jess lifted the book, showing you the cover. “*On the Road.* You?”

You turned your book around to show him the cover of a novel he hadn’t heard of but found himself interested in. “A little something for the train rides back home,” you said with a shrug.

“I’ll have to check it out,” Jess said, and he meant it. He liked that you were a reader. It gave you both something to share.

As the conversation flowed, Jess realized he was genuinely enjoying himself. You weren’t intimidated by him, and you weren’t overly interested in the mystery people usually tried to solve. You were just… you.

And as you sipped the last of your coffee, Jess found himself thinking that maybe, just maybe, he’d finally met someone worth sticking around for.

---

[inkinmyheartandonthepage]

Uncle Cinderella

Day Four of Flufftober: Cinderella Moment. Read it here on AO3

“Good morning, Diaz’s!”

Both Eddie and Christopher, both who had been slumped over their cereal bowls, tiredness still clinging to them, perked up at the sound of the familiar voice. A few seconds later and Buck swept into the room with a bright grin on his face, lighting up the Diaz kitchen in a way that made Eddie’s heart swoop in his chest.

“Morning Buck!” Chris cheered, milk dribbling down his chin.

Eddie’s eyes swept over Buck as they usually did, taking in the deep blue jeans and tight t-shirt that he wore. Just the sight sent Eddie’ heart beating faster in his chest and his stomach clench. “Morning.”

Buck ruffled Chris curls as he passed the pre-teen on his way to the coffee maker. They didn’t need to make small talk as Buck made himself a cup of coffee, Buck not a guest in the Diaz home. A minute later and Buck was sliding into the free seat, knees knocking against Eddie’s under the table.

“Buck, are you here to take us to the zoo today?” Chris asked, looking at Buck hopefully.

Eddie shot his son an exasperated look, rolling his eyes. “Chris,” he said, tone warning.

“Sorry Superman,” Buck chuckled. “No zoo today. But I am here to take you shopping.”

“Shopping,” Chris groaned at the same time Eddie said, “You are?”

“Yep,” Buck said cheerfully. “Your dad said you needed some new clothes. Something about you growing like a weed?”

Chris grinned, shark-like. There were bits of cereal wedged between his teeth and it shouldn’t make Eddie fond, but it did. “Yeah! I’m going to be tall, like you!”

“Hey!” Eddie mock scowled while Buck burst out into bright laughter. Eddie elbowed him playfully. “I’m like an inch shorter than you.”

“Yeah, and your kid knows it,” Buck beamed right back. He turned to Chris, holding out his hand for a high-five. “Good one, Superman.”

Chris eagerly returned the gesture eagerly, giggling loudly. The sound filled Eddie’s chest with something warm and he couldn’t stop the fond smile that filled his face.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie mock grumbled when Chris’s laughter had subsided. “Finish your breakfast, mijo.”

t was a familiar, domestic, routine that had become so common place that Eddie had once tried not to look too hard at. The way Buck sat with Chris while he finished his breakfast and Eddie ducked a way to have a shower, the way Buck did the dishes while they got dressed, the way he tied up while Eddie hurried Chris along.

But lately Eddie had started to allow himself to look at it. Had allowed himself to feel exactly what he had been shoving deep down inside him. Buck was more than just his partner at work, more than just his best friend. It had taken Eddie many sessions with Frank to work through and accept the fact that he had fallen in love with his best friend. While it had been scary, Eddie felt infinitely better now that he had accepted it. All he had to do now was work up the courage to tell Buck.

As Eddie stepped out into the living room with Chris and Buck smiled at them brightly, asking:

“You boys ready?”

Eddie didn’t think it would be much longer until he caved and told Buck exactly how he felt.

~*~

“Can we get lunch now?” Chris asked, tilting his head to look up at Eddie with pleading eyes.

Eddie smoothed a hand through Chris’s curls (and relished that Chris still allowed him to do this every so often since he had become a pre-teen.) “Yeah.”

“Just one more shop first,” Buck said. “And it’s on the way to the food court. It will take two seconds, promise.”

“Okay,” Chris agreed easily.

“You didn’t need to do this,” Eddie said, bumping his shoulder against Buck’s as they exited the store.

“Do what?” Buck asked, effortlessly taking the shopping bags from Eddie’s hands, his free hand gently guiding Chris in the direction of the food court.

“Take Chris shopping,” Eddie said, scowling when Buck batted his hands away when he tried to take the bags back. “Take us out for lunch.”

“I like doing this,” Buck insisted, shifting the bags out of Eddie’s reach. “Besides, I need to pick something up while we are here so really, you’re doing me a favour.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Your logic is astounding.”

Buck grinned widely, brushing his shoulder against Eddie’s as they walked.

“Can we get milkshakes?” Chris asked.

“Sure,” Eddie agreed. “You can have one with your lunch.”

“Sweet!”

“Just here,” Buck said, nudging Eddie to a stop.

Eddie looked up at the shop, eyebrows raising as he saw it was a costume shop. With a hand to Chris’s shoulder, they two of them followed Buck into the store. Buck went straight to the counter, smiling brightly at the girl behind the desk.

“Hey, Buck,” the girl – Ashley according to the name tag on her shirt – greeted with a familiarity that made Eddie’s stomach clench tightly. “Here for your order?”

“Sure am,” Buck beamed.

“I’ll just grab that for you,” Ashely said before she quickly disappeared behind the curtain that was behind the desk.

“Did you order something for Halloween?” Chris asked curiously.

“Not for Halloween but I will defiantly be making it my costume this year,” Buck winked. “Got to get the most out of it while I can.”  

Eddie was intrigued, even more so when Ashely returned, her arms ladened with the costume. Eddie’s eyes were instantly drawn to the blue tule that seemed to take up most of the protective plastic covering. As Ashley handed it over the desk, Eddie could see the blue bodice, decorated with what looked like glitter and tule sleeves.

“Here you go, Cinderella,” Ashely said. “Do you want to try it on before you go?”

“Nah, I’ll do that at home,” Buck said, taking the dress – no, the gown – from Ashely. “If there’s any issues I’ll call.”

“And we’ll get it fixed for free,” Ashely assured him. “Get your Prince Charming to help you with the zip at the back. There are a couple of hooks to keep it extra secure.” She winked at Eddie.

“Thanks for all your help,” Buck beamed, bouncing on his toes.

“Have a good day!”

On the way out, Eddie swiped the Chris’s bags from Buck so that he could carry the gown. He directed them to the food court, his eyes darting to the gown constantly.

“Is that really Cinderella’s dress?” Chris asked as they walked.

“Yep! Well, a version of it any way,” Buck said.

“How come you chose Cinderella?” Chris asked, blinking up at Buck curiously.

“Oh, well Jee-Yun and I were watching it and she wanted to play princesses,” Buck explained as they slowly made their way to the food court. “She was sad that none of the dresses could get over my shoulders.” He laughed and Chris broke out into giggles.

“So, you had one made,” Eddie stated. Something warm bloomed behind his rib cage, spreading throughout his chest and arms, all the way down to his fingers and toes. It was something fond and light and filled with overwhelming love.

“Of course!” Buck said, as if it was the simplest thing to do. And to Buck, it was. “How else am I supposed to be Cinderella without the dress, Eddie?”

“I love you.”

The words spilled out of Eddie before he could even think of them.

Buck came to a dead-stop, turning to stare at Eddie. His eyes were wide, lips parted as he looked at him and Eddie tried desperately not to squirm under the intense gaze. He could take the words back. Could stammer out a lie and move the conversation along. But the words were out there, and Eddie felt nothing but pure relief.

“You love me?” Buck asked. The words came out soft, almost like he was in disbelief and awe at the same time.

“I do,” Eddie said, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his lips. “I love you so much, Buck.”

Buck blinked several times and then he broke out in a giant grin. He took a step towards Eddie, closing the distance between them. “I love you too.”

Eddie felt the last of the tension seep from his shoulders and then he leaned forward to press his lips against Buck’s. It was soft, a press of their lips together, a quick taste before they were pulling away. There would be time for more later, when they weren’t in the middle of a shopping centre, strangers surrounding them.

“Did you really just tell Buck you love him, here?” Chris asked, nose scrunched up.

“Uh,” Eddie blinked down at Chris, a sudden wave of uncertainty crashing over him.

Chris heaved a big sigh. “Dad, how are you so bad at this?”

“Hey!” Eddie spluttered, unsure if he should be relieved that Chris seemed to approve of him being in love with Buck or annoyed at how sassy his pre-teen had become.

“I thought he did alright,” Buck said, winking at Eddie. He looked at Chris, the smile falling from his face. “You okay with this, Superman?”

“Duh,” Chris said, rolling his eyes. “Does this mean you’ll move in now?”

Buck laughed bright and loud as Eddie rolled his eyes fondly.

“Not yet, buddy,” Buck said.

“Soon,” Eddie added and swallowed as Buck’s blue eyes sparkled brightly. “But let’s start with lunch first. Come on.”

~*~

When the had finished lunch (and had their milkshakes) they made their way home. Buck drove and Eddie spent the entire trip staring at Buck’s face with a dopey grin on his face. Buck’s own smile was just as sappy, and he held Eddie’s hand whenever he had the chance.

Chris made himself comfortable on the couch as soon as they got inside, Eddie and Buck disappearing into the kitchen. When the bags were set down, Buck’s hands were suddenly cradling Eddie’s face and pulling him into a kiss.

Eddie sighed against Buck’s lips, melting into the kiss and Buck’s strong hands. Their lips moved lazily against one another, drinking in one another as they tasted each other for the first time.

“I love you,” Buck murmured when they finally parted for a breath. “So much.”

“Love you too,” Eddie said, brushing his nose against Buck’s. “Sorry it took me so long –“

“No,” Buck cut him off. “We got here. It’s doesn’t matter. We’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighed happily.

Buck grinned, pecking Eddie on the lips one more time before he pulled back. “So, all this because of Cinderella?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“More like because you were being you. Thoughtful, kind, generous, having a custom dress made for yourself because your niece wanted to play princesses.”

Buck ducked his head, a blush dusting his cheeks. “Eddie.”

Eddie pressed a quick kiss to Buck’s cheek. “Which you now have to show us. Go on, go put it on.”

Buck chuckled, grabbing the gown. He disappeared out of the kitchen. Eddie killed time by taking the tags off Chris’s new clothes and putting them away. When he was done, Buck was just coming out of Eddie’s room, blue gown in place.

Eddie breath caught in his chest.

Of course, Buck had gone all out with the costume. It was a beautiful replica (which must have cost him a small fortune). The bodice sat tight around his chest and waist before his long legs were covered by yards of blue tule that flared out.

“Can you help me with the zip and hooks, Prince Charming?” Buck grinned.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, the word coming out cracked. He cleared his throat, ignoring Buck’s wicked grin.

Buck didn’t say anything, just turned around so his back was to Eddie. Eddie carefully clipped the hooks together before doing up the zip. He placed a kiss on the base of Buck’s neck, grinning at the shiver it elicited.

“Done.”

Buck turned, the bottom of the dress swishing with the movement. “Think I can pass as a Princess?”

Eddie cocked his head to one side, letting his gaze sweep over Buck before settling on his eyes. “Maybe if you had a tiara too.”

Buck shoved Eddie’s shoulder lightly. “Dick.”

“You look amazing,” Eddie said sincerely. “Jee-Yun is lucky to have you as her uncle.”

“Thanks,” Buck said, giving Eddie a bashful smile.

“Go show Chris,” Eddie said, stepping aside to let Buck pass. “Maybe you can convince him to dress up as a pumpkin for Halloween.”

Buck grinned as he swept past Eddie. “Only if you’ll be Prince Charming.”

Eddie chuckled as Buck disappeared down the hall. He sagged against the wall, a bright smile on his face as Chris let out a loud shriek.

“You look awesome!”

Eddie ducked his head, his cheeks aching as his smile grew wider. It may have taken him a while, but Buck was right. They were here now and all that mattered now was the two people in the living room and all the moments they would create going forward.

[outcastpack]

teen wolf crossover with 911? sounds fun! so, i kinda wanna ask for both...cuz i want the morning after (thiam as dads) but also jasher... u get it jdjfkfkfj

I do so here's all three

Liam's Bi crisis

Liam braced himself as he held his uncles phone to his ear after Buck had finally past him the phone. Wincing as his mom immediately began shouting about how worried she had been after he had just up and disappeared again with no note or message saying where he was going or if he was safe.

“I know.... I’m sorry.” He sighed, closing his eyes as he listened to her words. He hadn’t meant for her to worry, but he needed some space to clear his head. He had no one to talk to about what the hell was running through his head – he knows he could of spoken to Mason or Scott but this wasn’t something he knew how to even try and explain.

“We’ve all been worried sick – I thought that sick wom-“ His mom cut herself off a choked sob like sound just barley making it’s way through the phone, guilt wormed it’s way through Liam’s gut. He hadn’t even thought about that, about Monroe still being out there somewhere in his haste to get some space between him and Beacon Hills.

“I’ve had Scott going out of his mind, Mason too and don’t even get me started on Theo.....” At the mention of Theo’s name, Liam slipped into that same memory that had been on his mind for days now.

Green gentle eyes listening to him ramble about nothing at all. A laugh that sounded like music to his ears. Lips slowly pressing against his own, effectively cutting him off, almost immediately pulling away, and Liam wanting nothing more than to reach out and do it again and that fact confusing him above all.

He had liked it. He wanted to do it again, but he also didn’t understand any of what was running through his own head. His thoughts consumed with Theo, Theo, Theo.

Now Thiam as dads

Liam set Theo’s plate down on the table, taking his own seat opposite once again. He himself had ended up eating his own once he realised Theo had been roped in by Mason. Theo was still telling him about how the pickup had gone and how Mason had instantly known where Theo was coming from as Tracy lived in the opposite direction than that.

“So yeah.... an interrogation vier Mason and Corey was not something I expected for this time in the morning.” Theo was saying, eyes occasionally glancing towards Seb in his pram while he ate.

The scene in the kitchen looked very domestic to Liam. Almost very family like and Liam found himself loving every second of it for some reason.

He couldn’t stop staring at Theo as he talked. Unable to stop the warmth of his home feeling like a home again with them both back in it and together with the seven month old baby as an almost added bonus.

The chain wrapped around Theo’s neck glinted in the light.

Liam’s hand shot out across the table before he could stop himself pulling Theo and the chain as close as he could. His finger stroked across one of the two rings ever so slowly. He glanced up with a smile at wide green eyes flickering between the hand on the chain and Liam’s face.

“I want these back where they belong.” He whispered softly, but loud enough that Theo heard him. Hearing Theo’s breath hitch at his words, letting him know that the chimera also heard what he actually meant - the underlying meaning.

Theo slowly nodded, looking completely dumbfounded and awestruck.

And last but not least the one I'm still slowly getting back into the groove of.

After his fourth class of the day and the fourth class of hearing nothing else but prom prom and prom. Liam decided to take his chances to get lunch somewhere else so he didn't have to hear it again while he ate.

He knew he would be able to get free food too from his mom’s restaurant, so the situation would be a win-win for him - no prom and free food.

"Please tell me my mom isn't around?" He asked Kara - one of the chefs - once he had managed to sneak in the back of the kitchen.

"Nope, she took the day off. Something about your Pro-" Liam cut the girl off with a loud 'Ahh' noise, waving his arms around in a nope gesture. He knew the staff were just staring at him like he was crazy - one of the waiters that had walked in the back snorting at him while leaning against the wall waiting for his next order.

"Please do not mention that to me right now." He groaned with a huff, climbing up to sit on the edge of one of the counters.

"Bad day?" Now it was Liam’s turn to snort, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Something like that." He muttered. Kara shot him a sympathetic smile while staying focused on the chicken she had been dicing up.

"Well, corner booths open, and I'll get Theo to bring you over a chicken burger or something." She said, motioning her hand towards the waiter that had been leaning against the wall.

Liam followed her hand, finally taking in the image of the waiter. He had seen the guy before, but this was the first time he had actually looked at him.

Green eyes that somehow looked slightly blue and hazel at the same time. Brown, slightly messy curled hair, and the hints of a tatoo just peeked out beneath the sleeve of the waiter shirt. From what he could tell, .... he was ripped as fuck too.

"Gee, thanks Kar, not like I have twelve other tables to serve." The waiter remarked, sarcasm laced in his voice as he loaded up his board with food.

"Love you too, Tee." Kara shouted back, not even turning away from her food preparation, but Liam could hear the smile and amusements in her voice.