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whirlpool-blogs · 4 months ago

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whirlpool's personal MOTA fic recs!

I've actually been dying to put this together for a while now...today is as good an excuse as any! I might not know everyone's tumblrs vs ao3 names so I will NOT be offended if you tell me to correct something!! <3

the big list = going alphabetical order in my folder because YES I do download my favorites, it's like having your own little bookshelf!!

non-clegan fics:

nine mothers' sons by @reallylilyreally (truly beautiful, breathtaking, and **THE** John Brady bible for the fandom so make sure you pray to it every night)

at your heels by @reallylilyreally (this one is Ev Blakely, another really beautiful story that helps you understand just why Crosby's memoir speaks of Blakely with such love and affection)

clegan (or gale-centric, or john-centric) fics:

A Direct Solution by @sweaterkittensahoy (Gale & Marge proposition Bucky...so cute and so hot)

ain't it easy? by @stereobone (dom/sub with john as the dom but ohhh man it's so much more than just that!!!!! this fic is so full of FEELS. and it's also HOTTTT. and also the FEELSSSSS.)

all the rest of what I want with you by @london-cowboy (the level of care that went into writing this fic is insane and impeccable. down to its own internal timeline, little egan kiddos, and the ANGST. but it's all worth it, I promise!!)

back home where you're from, that's the measure of a man by wolfhalls (nice little oneshot of the bucks, I love the back-and-forth of their dialogue in this one, it really does feel like two people who know each other well)

bittersweet between my teeth by @blixabargelds (post-war adjustment...love when the two majors are a little messy and a little sad and also john calls gale the prettiest thing he ever saw so there's that <3)

bluebirds singing a song by ourdarkspirits (Marge jumps Bucky's bones. Then Gale joins. Super fun, super hot!)

Close and Yet Closer by Anonymous (LITERALLY THE MOST!!!!!! FIC OF ALL TIME!!!!!!! Gale is a little bit mean and John is a lot bit sweaty. Like all the time. it's amazing and you should read it and it WILL change your life.)

Corpse Song by birdwif (oof. john is miserable in the stalag he's scratching at the door he's gnawing his own leg off.)

deep breath baby by @defnotanarc (um FISTING. yeah. intense and delicious. side note sometimes the world isn't fair and people who are really talented and amazing at drawing are also really good WRITERS too LIKE WTF!!)

DOG DINNER by @wompire (super interesting writing style, extremely poetic and striking. hits you right in the gut.)

everything and the kitchen sink by @swifty-fox (YEAH THIS ONE WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE TOO. modern au where gale is a professional dom and john is a journalist who hornily consents to both (1) fucking around, and (2) finding out. in top ten fics of the decade in general tbh)

Freed From Desire by @feyd-meowtha (yoooooo such a fun and free and sexy fic!!! such a great writing style and such a cool remix of all the characters we know and love!)

He wears his love around his neck by kasugayamaisforlovers (Gale character study, he tries to run his little gay thoughts away which is always so fun to see)

hold me like a knife by storm_warning (tw: self-harm, this REALLY gets into John's self-destructive stalag spiral and it's super visceral and wet and heart-wrenching and written with such, such care and precision)

Hound Within the Heart by Anonymous (fairy-tale esque, gets super crazy and pushes the limits of reality but in the best ways possible)

I Don't Wanna Be Alone Tonight by @johnslittlespoon (cuddling for warmth <3 and then a little more <3 <3 so sweet and intimate!!)

I Like A Bad Boy by @nicijones (modern college AU and bucky is a fratty fuckboy type & in this fic he DOES punch a guy for Gale and it's all very hot and sweet and a delight to read)

i wish you wouldn't tell me (about your hawaiian party) by @whitetrashjj (when the fuckbuddies thing gets messyyyyyy because gale catches feelingsssssss, so delicious and meaty!!)

if that isn’t love, it’ll have to do by @irregularcollapse (ALWAYS such incredible character reads from this author, never misses. also facefucking. also FACEFUCKING <3)

i'll be seeing you by @puffanities (a quick 1.6k oneshot but still packed with some really great characterization and powerful language!! 'when the numbers of planes don’t match...')

i'll find you before the dust settles by butidontreallycare (a Westworld AU!! super cool)

in our bedroom after the war by @stereobone (one of those fics that's just like. a pillar of the community, y'know? iconic. classic. eternal.)

Into the Unknown by Melanie_Mikaelson (big win for john whump enjoyers. BIG win. like 20+ chapters of winning)

it ain't for meatball by @meyerlansky (Curt/Bucky. Curt puts the dog collar on Bucky....and it's HOTTTT arf arf i'm barking just like bucky is in this fic...)

It's Not Love, but It's Fun by @sweaterkittensahoy (Curt/Bucky, 500 words so it's short and sweet just like Curt ahahahaha, ANYWAY still such an interesting little read regardless!)

judgment by the hounds by @puffanities (PG, very visceral and tender apology after the stalag fight scene <3)

level-off maneuvers by wormringers (sweet little oneshot of the Bucks in London)

little fix by ForASecondThereWedWon (Algeria <3 <3 you just kNOW those two gay pilots were sniffing and huffing and licking each other's sweat.....this author GETS it)

love means nothing (in tennis) by @irregularcollapse (fics that make you go WEEEEEEEE!!!! every word, every physical action that these characters take is SO precise and well-written. truly like wrapping a soft bathrobe around yourself and also the bathrobe is incredibly sexy and also they're sucking each other off post-game but PRE-shower. also gale's dad!! also margie!! truly such a well crafted AU)

make you feel alive by @sig-nifier (really sweet little oneshot of gale being a little protective of john. and i am ALWAYS a sucker for the 'call off your dog' trope... and it's done perfectly here!)

meet me at the chapel by @swifty-fox (still in-progress and SUCH a creative, inventive universe!! outlaw john you will always be famous to me!!!!)

my kingdom for a kiss upon your shoulder by @swifty-fox (swift can really weave a story like no one else. so many lines that pack a punch. and in the end, they make it <3)

my type by @spaceshipkat (this one is SOOOOO well-written, I always go so crazy for the dialogue!!! such a great push-pull dynamic in this fic)

night terror by @antiquitea (hot! and sweet! and HOT! and angsty!!!!! highlights include: gale gives john a literal countdown deadline to get off)

Obligate Mutualism by bowhuntress (Gale-centric story of trying to get John through the stalag, then returning the England without Bucky, a fic very obviously written with a lot of care and love)

obsessions, and other things by @sig-nifier (the Bucks cope. really great pacing and dialogue, and I always love when fics take the care to delve into john's struggle with alcoholism as well)

of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world (he walks into mine) by @whitetrashjj (really fun parallel universe where Buck owns a bar, just a great read all-around!)

Oh, I do, do I? by @defnotanarc (DIRTY TALK, like the most delicious, incredible dirty talk you can imagine, this fic nails it!!)

One of your Girls by @soliloquy-dawn (9k oneshot and it's great all the way through, Gale is jealousssss of John fucking around, don't worry they resolve it <3, definitely captures that innocence of pre-Bremen MOTA episodes)

peacetime like a liminal space by @spaceshipkat (this one is PHENOMENAL. post-war, John goes to New York City and turns out it doesn't fill the emptiness. luckily Gale shows up. <3)

Putting Words to It by @impalachick (YEAH THIS ONE IS REALLY HOT. John is a snoop and reads Gale's letters to Marge <3)

Reunited by Flowersandthings (PG, cute & funny oneshot of the Bucks being reunited after Gale makes it over from Greenland!)

Reverie by @avonne-writes (REALLY creative, well-crafted story. Gale and John are soulmates and can visit each other's dreams since adolescence. INCREDIBLE journey and arc in this story, the stalag part is just wow. truly such a gift to the fandom!!).

Rugire by Anonymous (umm omegaverse-ish but with deer dynamics. messy. and SO good.)

SHOTGUN. by pornogirl (YEAH this one is awesome, it's not safe it's not sane but oh boy it is consensual)

Song of Songs by @swifty-fox (sweaty sex sweaty sex sweaty sex)

Spin, Sit, Roll-Over by @glumbabie (Gale is a little mean to John and it's VERY sexy of him tbh. 'DOGS DON'T TALK'???? 'YOU CAN EAT'???????? yeah. read this.)

the chimneys hardly ever fall down by @redbelles (another Gale/Marge + John, and it's HOT. it's SEXY it's awesome!!)

the hand of a good man by @stereobone (John rewrites Gale's daddy history <3)

the jacket by @dogmetaphors (REALLY great sense of dialogue and characterization even in 1.6k words, also shamelessly horny and SO yummy)

The Major’s Wife by tryingmyhandatwriting (John/Original Female Character but like. give this one a chance, I'm telling you!! I'm always soooo compelled by sex scenes that like. are actually a little bit unhappy. and this one SERVESSSSS.)

this must be the place by @blixabargelds (BIG win for Gale whumpers. broken bone and LOTS of blood and super well-written)

To be alone with you by Damn_Illusive (THIS ONE IS SO, SO SPECIAL AND CREATIVE!! freaky army experimentation gives gale and john telepathic communication. incredible separation arc while gale is in the stalag. really, really unique story that is such a staple in my mind as one of the the most incredible clegan stories ever. I think about this one A LOT!!!)

To the Moon and Back by @rambleonwaywardson (iconic astronaut AU, written with SUCH care and love, it's so obvious!! and BIG win for john whumpers. who said that -)

Tough And Sweet (Like You And Me) by @johnslittlespoon (sooo fun and creative and inventive, Bikeriders-esque!Gale and a sweeter, more innocent John. really well crafted)

trading paper dolls by ForASecondThereWedWon (Alex draws Gale pinup girl style in the stalag.....John swipes it.... super great fic!)

two slow dancers by everywordnotsaid (unrequited love, John for Gale, through their journey. I genuinely, actually sobbed for a long time at the conclusion of this fic. I am always thinking about this fic. I think it really captures something about the experience of watching the show and realizing in that hopeless, lovesick kind of way that there's no way to go back in time and save all of them. I still get teary whenever I think about this story or hear the song. It's one of those fics that's not just good, not just great, but somehow also really fucking IMPORTANT. this story MATTERS. you should absolutely read it and save it and imprint it onto your heart. I know it's imprinted onto mine.)

Un Chant d’Amour by @counting0nit (really intriguing take on the interrogation center time frame!)

unicorns, and other extinct animals by @spaceshipkat (really, really incredible reading experience. something that actually touches other aspects of my life, even now. I see planes overhead and I think about this fic. I see letters on a table and I think about this fic. just. this author GETS IT, you know? just absolutely nails every aspect of this kind of fic: post-war adjustment, the pain, the LOVE. this fic will make you FEEL it. let it happen.)

Up In Our Bedroom by @steeseman (ICONIC. really one of those pillars of the community type fics, y'know? it's funny and it's sweet and it's painful and the hot parts are HOT. clearly written with SO much care, and SO much love, and SO much precision. every single word packs a punch. absolutely one of my top reads of all time, across time, across fandoms)

When the bones are good by @aramblingjay (a really incredible post-war fic, such a beautiful, rich writing style!! isn't afraid to dig at the hard parts - john's relationship with alcohol, their nightmares from the war. stunning visuals -- the author uses setting and place and motion in such a tangible, real way. I can still see the little hideout spot in my mind's eye, even now. one of those fics that's just. such a treasure to the fandom.)

your dreams, whatever they be by @drylite (this one is super new, and it's just SUCH solid writing!)

You're A Dog (I'm Your Man) by @johnslittlespoon (one of those fics that's a pillar of the fandom for SURE!!! definitely a classic)

#mota fic #clegan #john egan #gale cleven #I LOVE U ALL SO MUCH #you're all so talented and creative!!!!!!#post

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peppermintquartz · 2 months ago

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If you’re still wanting prompts, here’s a sad one: Tommy shows up at the 118 looking for Buck because his dad just died and, as cruel and awful as his father was, that was the last person he had and he desperately needs someone.

They come back from a call, a relatively simple one where they rescued a puppy from a drainpipe, and Eddie is telling Chimney about Chris finally asking how everyone was at the station. Buck is smiling at the conversation, glad for the progress, when Kirsten, the new probie left behind due to her sprained wrist, jogs up to the engine.

"Buck? There's someone here to see you," she says, big green eyes a little concerned. "Says his name is Tommy."

Buck freezes. Eddie hops off the vehicle and nods at Kirsten. "Where is he?"

She points to the loft, then lowers her voice. "He seems kinda... off. Like he's not all there, if you know what I mean."

As Eddie thanks Kirsten, Buck walks towards the stairs. His heart seems to beat twice as hard. They've not spoken to each other since that day Tommy walked out, and even though Buck saw that Tommy wanted to text him the other day, Tommy never quite followed through and Buck didn't want to be the one to reach out.

When he gets to the sofa where Tommy is seated, he pauses. Tommy looks like death warmed over. His usually healthy appearance looks haggard and the laugh lines around his mouth drag his face down, and there's scruff that's at least three days old. He hasn't even reacted to Buck coming near him, so lost in thought that he seems to have stopped breathing.

Out of it is the right description.

"Tommy?" Buck ventures.

Tommy jerks, and his gaze slides up. Shadows under his eyes dark as bruises mar the handsome face, and the lovely storm blue eyes are ringed with red and fatigue.

"Tommy, are you alright?" Buck sits next to him, taking Tommy's hand on instinct, realizing only after that he's done so, but it'll be weird to drop it. Tommy's hand is cold, too, cold as ice, a very strange sensation when he tends to run hot.

"I'm sorry," Tommy whispers, "I just. Didn't have anyone to go to. Not about this."

Eddie and Hen have come up to the loft, taking in the scene. Chimney is keeping well back at the kitchen island next to Bobby, the two of them sharing glances.

"You hurt his feelings and now you're crawling back?" Eddie demands. There's no real acid in his tone. Eddie's not happy about seeing Tommy here, Buck supposes, but there's no need for Eddie to be angry. And there's something here that Tommy isn't saying.

"Eddie, shut up." Buck covers Tommy's hands in both his own. "What's wrong?"

"Dad. Stroke. I had to fly to Florida a few days ago... was with him all of yesterday and..." Tommy's usually stoic facade crumples and he bows over, his big shoulders shaking. "Evan. I'm sorry. I shouldn't come here, but I can't go home. I wanted to text you, and I didn't dare, and I'm back, and I can't go home."

His heart breaking for Tommy, Buck wraps the other man in a hug. Tommy's father was an asshole who drank as much as he hated people unlike him, whose abuse wasn't limited to strangers. A lot of it was done in alcohol; Tommy has been very careful with himself about alcohol for that reason.

But blood is still blood, even if it comes from open wounds and old scars. Buck can't imagine how Tommy has managed the past few days alone.

And back home, alone, without support...

Eddie and Hen look uncomfortable now. Bobby approaches, calm and steady. "Why don't you boys go to my office? I'll take us offline for an hour so we can have some food."

"Thanks, Cap. Come on, Tommy." Buck helps Tommy to his feet. Even though everything has changed between them, Tommy is still someone he wants in his life. Buck can be a good friend to a good man.

Tommy deserves someone good in his life.

#tommy kinard #bucktommy #evan buckley #tevan #pq writes

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nburkhardt · 1 year ago

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Mainly for my love, @strangersteddierthings ily

An overly sappy and fluffy follow up to this angst piece

“-Christ, I’m coming!”

It’s- Jesus Christ, only eight in the morning on a goddamn Saturday and someone decided to call him now? He roughly picks the phone up, “whoever the fuck this is, you better have a goddamn good reason to be calling!”

“Well, I’m sorry. It’s even earlier for me, nerd” Robin’s voice comes through, and now he’s confused.

If anyone should still be asleep, it should be her. Since she’s ya know, in California, in a different timezone. It’s- “why the fuck are you awake at five? Aren’t you on vacation?”

He can hear the eye roll Robin does, but it’s only fair. She woke him up, she gets to deal with a little bit of bitchy Eddie.

“I am, doesn’t matter. What are your plans again for Christmas?”

Tilting his head, squinting his eyes, he blinks hard before rubbing a hand down his face. “Buckley. You did not fucking just ask me what my plans are. The hell? You’re not even here! Why?”

Robin groans, obnoxious and long. Then a huff, and after that he hears tapping and he can imagine she’s bumping the phone against her head and straighten up with a glare on her face. He gets the look a lot from her to see it clearly.

“Edward Munson. I need to know what your Christmas plans are for very good reasons. Actually, what are you doing for that whole weekend? I need a favor and you’re going to do it, because it’s very very important. So important that if you do not do this and I find out, you will be a dead man and wish the demobats were after you.” She takes a deep breath, “do you understand?”

It must be, if she’s bringing up violence this early.

“Okay, geez I’ll bite. My plans for Christmas is just hanging around with Wayne, we usually just hang around watching Christmas movies and eat together. I got nothing planned the weekend, all of ya and my band are busy with family and shit.” He leaned against the fridge, closing his eyes and hoping whatever Robin is thinking doesn’t involve much.

“You need to kidnap Steve.”

He opened his eyes quick to widen them, straightening up and looking around for his keys. “Can I keep him then?”

Robin groans and he smiles, “if I’m kidnapping Stevie, I get to keep him. Finders keepers, Buck!”

“If you can only promise to love him and care for him.”

“Always, Robin. My Honeylove deserves it and so much more, he doesn’t even know how much,” he sighs, “I’ve agreed, now can you explain why?”

He’s met with silence and he looks at the phone wondering weather it’s not working or Robin hung up; already satisfied with him agreeing. Which would be fucking rude of her.

As he brings the phone back, he hears her sigh and- “i know my platonic soulmate and he doesn’t think I’ve noticed him being withdrawn or sad. He’s determined to make me go grey by suffering in silence, and he doesn’t believe how much I care or how much you care. So, he’s alone, like right now.” She sniffles and he can imagine she’s gripping her hair while also leaning up against whatever wall or surface, “SO, I would appreciate you for the rest of my life, if you help me and make him very, so very happy. Please.”

Taking a step out of his van, Eddie shifts his weight as he looks at the single flower he managed to pluck from his neighbors bush, it’s probably cheesy and maybe a little much but he couldn’t help himself.

Picking it up, he quickly slams his door before marching his way to Steve’s front door and stands straight. Taking a breath before moving his arm behind his back, knocking on the door with the other.

It’s been a few days since Robin’s call and his plan couldn’t take any shape until this morning. Wayne had noticed he was off the rest of that day and a complete word-for-word retelling happened and he ended with Wayne telling him, “Jesus kid, ya didn’t need to ask. That boy of yours is welcomed here”

And that was that.

He holds his fist up again as the door swings open and he’s met with an adorable sight, Steve wearing his glasses a little askew and his favorite yellow sweater along with some plaid sweats.

“Eddie?”

Smiling, Eddie pulls the flower out and brings it in front of their faces. Twirling the flower around before lightly bumping it on Steve’s nose, “My dear, Stevie Honeylove Harrington, I am here on this lovely December twenty third to officially kidnap you.” He watched as Steve pulls the door open more looking even more confused, it makes him smile at him.

“Eds, what the hell? Please don’t tell me you’re high right now?”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie shakes his head. “I am very sober, and come on, get things together. You’re coming home with me”

They move into the kitchen and Steve looked at him before shaking his head.

“Can my kidnapper explain one more time, because he deserves to know why he’s being kidnapped- two days before Christmas” Steve asks and grabs the flower from him, putting it in a cup before leaning up against the counter to look at him.

He doesn’t bother sitting anywhere, instead comes right up to Steve and tapping his temple. “Because, my heart, you selfless dummy. You will be spending the rest of this holiday, with me and Wayne.”

Steve’s eyes widen, before darting around to avoid looking at him. It pulls a frown on Eddie’s face and he steps back just a bit, just to let Steve avoid his gaze more. He knows when it’s necessary to give more space, especially this lovely boy.

“I don’t want to impose on you both, I’m fine here. My parents called and said they’ll be her-”

“Nuh uh. Nope, I will not accept that. Even if they were coming, I’d still be kidnapping you, sweet boy.” He interrupts, crossing his arms and glances around the room before settling his eyes back on the important thing, Steve.

Steve who is still looking anywhere but at him, his own arms crossed but looking much more like he’s hugging himself, his fingers drumming along his arm.

“Sweetheart, Steve, I would truly and utterly love if you come along with me to your first official Munson Christmas.”

A smile pulling at his lips, as the words process in Steve’s head. A light blush is slowly creeping up. It makes his own cheeks start to burn, his own blush coming up from seeing Steve looking soft and confused.

Eddie moves closer to him again, arms no longer crossed and instead coming up around Steve. Enjoying how he instantly shifts to wrap his arms around Eddie, it makes his heart happy.

“Yeah okay, Teddy. I’ll go”

It’s the smell of bacon that makes him stir and the light sound of Christmas music playing.

Steve blinks a few times to get the sleep out of his eyes, his vision getting as clear as they can without his glasses. Along with that his other senses also kicks up and he can feel the weight of an arm around his waist and legs tangled with his.

He shifts just enough to see Eddie behind him, face still relaxed as he lightly snores. Clearly still asleep. It’s only then that he relaxes back down and looking away with a blush and tiny smile.

For once happy to wake up on Christmas morning in years.

“Merry Christmas, Love” Eddie’s arm tightens around his waist as he spoke, pulling him closer.

His face completely breaking out into a smile now. “Yeah?”

Eddie hums and squeezes his waist again, “yeah course, it’s Christmas”

Steve shakes his head, “no, well, yeah it’s Christmas but um, the love thing.” He squeezes his eyes shut and mentally counts to five before turning around to face Eddie, “are you serious? Because I’m, um, starting to think that you’re-”

There’s a smile tugging on Eddie’s lips and he moves his arms to settle back snug around Steve, “In love with you? Yeah, Honeylove. I am, I love you Steve and I would be the happiest man alive if you let me keep you”

Steve’s eyes are watering as he nods and breaks into a breathless laugh, the words bouncing around in his head over and over.

“Yeah, yeah. Please. I love you too”

It brings a bright smile to Eddie’s face that Steve matches, Eddie presses a kiss to his forehead and promises that they’ll share their first kiss once they lose the morning breath and Steve holds him to it.

They’ll get up, brush their teeth and share a soft kiss before walking out to see Wayne busy finishing off some pancakes. They’ll wish him a merry Christmas, enjoy their breakfast together before settling in the living room to watch Christmas movies and unwrap the presents under the tree.

There’s not much; only a few gifts for each of them.

Steve doesn’t even pay much attention to his, he’s really truly happy because his favorite present is currently sitting on the floor in a Santa hat obnoxiously shaking a gift next to his head with a big smile on his face.

It’s the best Christmas he’s had in a long time.

One of my all time favorite tropes is “they’re not dating” and guess what, they weren’t dating at all in this until Christmas 🥰 Eddie was very obviously in love with Steve from the start though, Steve was just a little slow on catching the very point-blank flirting :D

Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed this sappy piece and it made up for the angst I put you through in the first part. ☺️

Those who also asked/commented: @goodolefashionedloverboi @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @vampirestevie @steviesummer

Permanent Taglist: @spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @estrellami-1 @cartercaptainofthemoon

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #platonic stobin #wayne munson #stranger things #fic #nburkhardt writes #casual possessive Eddie Munson #lol he was calling Steve his from the start and Steve never caught on #Steve gets more than a hug #he gets a BOYFRIEND AND KISSES

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wikiangela · 8 months ago

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I always had you

buck & maddie rating: G words: 1k summary: Buck always tried to show his mother love on Mother's Day - however, it was rarely appreciated.

[also on Ao3]

___

The first Mother’s Day Buck remembers, however vaguely, was when he was in first grade. Their teacher had them make cards for their moms, and little Evan was so excited to have something to give his mom. He doesn’t remember what his card looked like, but he remembers feeling so proud and excited about it, and showing it to Maddie when she picked him up from school, so they could take the bus together. He remembers Maddie smiling and complimenting him, and he was so excited. And he remembers giving the card to his mother… he remembers the haunted look in her eyes, tears welling up, the forced smile – he thinks she thanked him, but the memory is blurry. He tried to hug her, but she just got up and walked away. Evan was disappointed, maybe even sad, seeing his mom be sad, wondering what he did that was so upsetting. He always seemed to upset his parents.

He remembers going to Maddie’s room, crying in her arms as she tried to comfort him – he doesn’t know what she said, it was so long ago, but he does remember the comfort she’s always brought him.

Now, years later, he’s pretty sure his mom must’ve thrown the card away, knowing that his parents didn’t bother to keep anything from his childhood anyway. He’s just a reminder of a failure and loss.

If there’s one thing to be said about Evan Buckley is that he does not give up. So, even as a kid, he tried so hard to earn his parents’ love, to get their attention – usually by being reckless and hurting himself, he learned pretty early on that it was a foolproof way to get any sort of reaction. That’s why his mom’s reaction, or lack thereof, to that first card didn’t deter him. He was just a kid, he didn’t really get it then – now, reflecting back on it, he sees everything he didn’t then, or maybe tried not to.

So every year for Mother’s Day he brought a card from school. Then, when they stopped making them at school, he kept making them at home. When he was old enough and had some of his own money, he’d buy gifts. Something small, a chocolate, a flower, sometimes he’d get Maddie to pitch in so they could get something together. She always seemed apprehensive but indulged Buck anyway. Now Buck knows she was just trying to protect him, spare him the hurt – because each time their mom barely reacted to a gift, Buck’s heart was breaking a little. And the older he got, the less she tried to pretend to like it, and she never tried very hard in the first place.

He never got any sort of appreciation or warmth, or… or love. It’s all he ever wanted from his mother, from both his parents, but they were too consumed by grief, as he knows now, too cold, haunted, not even willing to try for their remaining children, for years and years.

Buck remembers the last time he got his mom a gift and decided he’s never doing that again. It was right before Maddie moved to Boston, he could’ve been around twelve. He made another card, just because he liked doing it, liked putting in the effort – and was met with his mother asking if he’s not too old for doodling. That’s what she called it. He was twelve. He was a twelve year old boy who only wanted love from his mom, some form of affection, a reassurance that he wasn’t a nuisance they just tolerated, like he felt so often. He never got it.

So, with angry tears in his eyes, he stormed out and went to Maddie. He gave her the card, just a simple, childish drawing of flowers and a ‘Happy Mother’s Day’, and she hugged him tight and said she loved it. He learned years later that she still has it now, kept with all the postcards he sent her. Maddie’s always been more of a parent to him anyway – and it’s such a bittersweet thought, because while he appreciates her so much, she shouldn’t’ve had to be. They both needed their parents, and instead were basically left alone. At least they had each other. He always had Maddie.

He didn’t wish Margaret a happy Mother’s Day again for years after that, and no one seemed to care, no one ever mentioned it. Sometimes it felt like she just didn’t want a reminder that she was his mother. It hurt, of course it did, and that, among many other things, left a permanent scar on Evan. He’s been healing, getting better, trying to fix whatever relationship with his parents he might still have, but that is always there, in the back of his mind, in his heart.

When Maddie became a mother – and after she came back, having gotten the help she needed – Buck got her a gift again, just a mug that says ‘best mom in the world’ (a reminder, that despite her struggling and doubting herself, she already raised one kid, and will do an even better job with her own) and a handmade card. He felt silly handing it to her, like a little kid again, but he had been doing arts and crafts with Christopher anyway so he decided to make something for his sister’s first Mother’s Day as a mom. So maybe it was silly and weird, and why would a grown man draw a card for his sister? But Maddie smiled widely and hugged him, and chuckled fondly when he promised he’ll teach his niece to make those, too. He can’t wait to watch her grow up, and to watch his sister be the best mom ever. And on every Mother’s Day from now on, he’ll make sure to celebrate her, the person who actually raised him, and helped mold him into who he is today with her endless kindness and patience and love.

His mother gets a text now, since they’re trying to fix things, and Buck never quits. But Maddie gets taken out to lunch, and gets gifts, and is celebrated by all the people she loves. Because she deserves it, and so much more.

___

[also on Ao3]

#the buckley siblings #wikiangela writes #my writing #911 fic #911 abc #evan buckley #maddie buckley #buckley siblings #buck & maddie #buckley siblings fic #why isn't there more tags for buckley siblings fics smh we need to write more of just them istg lol #I love Maddie sooo much <3 #911 fanfic #idk what this is i was in my feels about the buckley siblings lol

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imtheiliad · 8 months ago

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LONG MAY YOU ROAR [bucktommy | soft & gentle | 1k] a/n: hi uhh so this randomly popped into my head, and it's the first time i have ever really written in tommy's pov so it's far from perfect but it doesn't really make sense to tell it from another so i tried something new weee. there's some bonus sweet buckley siblings implications <3 title barely has anything to do with the fic/i do not want to be too sad about it, i just love robin from ttpd and it's about childhood so it fit... well enough. tw for mentions of canonical childhood cancer and death of a child

Tommy stands in his boyfriend’s living room, beer in one hand and he takes in the decor. He’s seen it all before but he's still getting to know the man that’s fussing over dinner in the kitchen. And there is something new, resting on the tv stand, is a photo of a boy riding a bicycle, his back toward the camera. It’s the first time Tommy has noticed it. He had never seen any pictures of a young Evan before, it never struck him as strange, not very many people kept baby pictures around their adult home – that’s why this one felt somewhat strange. There were the photo booth strips, Polaroids, and school pictures of Chris and Jee on the fridge or placed in a drawer around the loft, but no other kids were present in this space. Nothing else is so formal. He figures it has to be Evan, and it was special for some reason. So he picks it up and turns to his boyfriend who is smiling and making his way over to him, finally satisfied with letting the lasagna finish baking.

“Who is this handsome young man?” he asks, a gentle teasing lilt in his voice.

And Evan’s demeanor shifts, he’s still smiling, but it turns sad and bittersweet. His whole body sags ever so slightly. Tommy watches as his Adam's apple bobs, he takes a deep breath with his eyes closed and steps closer. He traces the edge of the frame, his eyes transfixed on the back of the bike. “This is my brother. Daniel.” Evan swallows again.

“You’ve never mentioned…Could he not make it to the wedding?” He asks, but there is a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that tells him that there is more to the story.

“You could say that,” Evan responds with a dry hough of a barely there laugh. “He, he um, he died when I was little. Leukemia. I never really knew him. Our parents–” He shakes his head.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

“I want to. It’s just, that I haven’t told the story so far removed from finding out. I told the 118 right away, while I was still numb. And the very messy deep personal feelings version to my therapist, but I’m still working through a lot. So, I don’t know. It might be hard for me to explain it all.”

“Well we can sit down to start,” He says gently with a smile. Taking Evan’s hand, running a soothing thumb over his knuckles. Evan nods and follows his lead to the couch.

“I just, it’s hard to know where to start,” Evan sighs.

“What about why you only now have this picture up?”

Evan smiles a little. “Maddie gave it to me for his birthday last week.” he clears his throat, “So, basically I didn’t even know that I had a brother until just before Jee was born.” Evan looks over at him, trying to gauge his reaction. He lets the words flow over him, and his brow scrunches, tilting his head in confusion.

“My parents kept several secrets from me, forced Maddie to keep them too, for thirty years. They all came to light when I stumbled across that picture in Maddie’s baby box. The past few years since then have been busy, and she found it again after her move and everything and had a copy made for me and had it framed. He has the right for his life to be remembered and celebrated after being a secret for so long.”

“Why was it a secret?” He lets the question slip out, “If you want to share that.”

“Well, um,” Buck ducks his head a little, “Have you ever seen My Sister's Keeper?” he asks, looking back at him with a questioning look on his face. It isn’t what Tommy is expecting in the slightest. But Tommy has seen the movie in question, and the dots slowly begin to connect. And Evan has this look in his eyes that tells him he’s right.

“Oh, Evan.”

“It just never worked for him though. Sometimes I still feel like I failed him somehow.” Evan rolls his bottom lip between his teeth. “I was always treated like a disappointment by my parents and didn’t know why until I was thirty years old, I was never going to be absolved of a sin I didn’t even know I had committed. Maddie though, she raised me. She always treated me like any kid would want to be treated. So, now we celebrate his birthday when we can and Maddie tells me about him. She always comes up with new stuff she remembers after keeping it tucked away for so long. Or how I remind her of him and stuff. It’s good for her to talk about him, and for me to hear it.”

Tommy smiles at him at that, “I have never been under the impression that your relationship with her isn’t very special. Thank you for telling me about this part of your family.”

“Well, you knew most of all the other members of my family before me, as Chimney likes to remind me.” Evan laughs and relaxes back into his arms, tucking his face into Tommy’s neck. “Thank you for listening.” he runs his fingers over his hands, “I wanted to tell you. I just never knew how to bring it up, or what base talking about a dead brother was.” He can feel Evan’s small smile against his neck, and he laughs gently too.

“Someday soon I’ll tell you about my family too.” He twists his fingers in Evan’s curls.

“Whenever you are ready. I’ll wait.” Evan places a light kiss on his jaw.

The oven beeps declaring the lasagna to be finished and Evan groans, ungluing himself from his side. Once Evan is back in the kitchen, Tommy lifts the photo up again from the coffee table and gently returns it to its home.

#evan buckley #tommy kinard #911fic #bucktommy #911 #*aj writes stuff

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missmielyhoran · 2 years ago

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Better Than Revenge

after your boyfriend cheats on you with your best friend, you want revenge, and luckily, he has a very hot brother...

[Warning- Smut, Revenge sex, name calling, cheating (both Harry and reader gets cheated on), unrotected sex (pulling out doesn't make babies or std go away), Just me being a petty bitch tbh]

A/N- She's a short one

Masterlist

*****

Two people you trusted your whole life with.

Two people who knew your ups and downs.

Two people who knew your darkest secrets.

Two people who decided to forget all the years together and stabbed you in the back.

And they deserved everything that was coming for them.

You knew your "best friend's" parents were super stricts, relationships and boys were out of the door for them so fucking your best friend's boyfriend? You knew she be in deep shit.

So you sent them screenshots of their chats along with a picture of her riding him.

Did it make you sad to do that to someone you were ready to take a bullet for? yes

Did it also feel great to get back at her? fuck yeah.

Now for your tool of ex-boyfriend you knew exactly what to do.

You see, William was jealous of his brother, not only cause he was the better looking of two but also cause he did so without any effort and unlike him he was kind.

You also might or might not have had a little crush on him in the start.

You walked quitely into your ex-boyfriend's house, making sure he didn't see you and then tip toed to his brother, Harry's room. Quickly, you got inside and locked the door behind you, hearing for any noises.

"Y/N?" He called out. You turned to see him, cozy in grey sweatpants and an oversized sweater sitting on his desk with books opened, headphones on probably doing his homework, "Are you okay? Did Will do something?" He asked.

"Do you know where your girlfriend is?" You asked him. He tilted his head to the side, confused and shook his head. You sighed, understanding that he didn't even know what had been going on for the past four months and then felt bad for what you were about to tell him.

"Your girlfriend and my best friend is fucking your brother" You said rolling your eyes. You walked beside him near the deak and showed him your phone, the pics sent by your friend, and the texts.

Harry watched everything in horror, feeling sadness overtake him. It wasn't like he was in love with her or that they were serious or something, but getting cheated on sucked especially when it's your own brother.

That was the part that hurt him the most. His own blood did this to him.

After the sadness came anger and he saw red. He gave you your phone back and started walking towards his bedroom door, ready to beat Will's ass.

But you stopped him.

You knew Will only did this to get a reaction out from Harry. It felt like he always had to do something to have an upper hand over his brother, whether it's was right or wrong,

and you had a better plan for revenge anyway.

*****

The car was now fogged up as Harry removed his lips from yours, travelling south to your jaw.

"Fuck" You whimpered out at the feeling and started to grind your hips over base of his cock sitting on his lower belly.

You questioned yourself right then. Why were you with the other brother anyway? William was attractive don't get her wrong, but Harry? He looked like he belonged in an art gallery.

Especially naked.

"God, you're so pretty. Why the fuck were you with that piece of shit?" He asked bucking his hips upward sending shock waves through your body as it rubbed over your throbbing clit.

"Don't know" You moaned grinding your hips faster, "You have bigger cock anyway" Your head fell on his shoulder, the tingling on the end of your spine threatened to unravel.

"Yeah," He said, chuckling. His right hand went to your wist while his left came up to your neck, seizing all your movement. He pulled your head back, forcing your eyes open.

"Want me to fuck you dumb baby?" He asked rhetorically, "So good you will not even remember his name" He said pushing you back a bit, with his right hand he lined up his dick to your weeping pussy.

He looked up, and you gave him a nod. That's all needed cause, next thing you know he's slamming into you.

You let out a broken, loud moan, not even bothering to concel your noises. The thrill of revenge fucking in your ex boyfriend's favourite car knowing he was about to walk towards you two any minute with your "best friend" drove you crazy.

His left hand stayed on your neck while his right slide down your body again and rested on your clit. He didn't even apply pressure, just a feather of touch, making you want more yet still feeling too much.

Harry didn't know if it was the anger or that you looked like an absolute sin riding his cock that made him want to just stay there forever, in your warm tight cunt.

How could that fucking idiot cheat on someone like you?

But he had a feeling Will only dated you cause he knew Harry once had a crush on you, and he would get one more opportunity to tell everyone he's with the girl his brother had a crush on.

Or how much of a loser Harry is.

Well, who was the loser now, though?

"God, look at you, baby. Haven't got a good dicking in a while have you?" He mocked, "You're almost gagging for it" He shook his head taunting, and smirked when your clenched around him as an approval.

"Fuck no" You panted out, "Had to get myself off myself after sex. Fuckwit didn't even know where clit was" You laughed along with Harry.

"Poor baby" He pouted and slid down a little in the seat planting both legs on the car floor and then fucking up into you with an unforgiving pace.

He was feeling his orgasm close and seeing the time on his phone sitting beside him he knew Will was about to walk towards the car to go out with his friends and he wanted you coming right in front of him.

"You gonna come, baby?" He asked applying a bit pressure on your clit, his hand move from your neck to your behind groaping your ass.

"God she could never feel like this, your pussy feels so good like it was made for me. My personal little fleshlight" He said sucking hickeys on your neck. He wanted everyone to see what he did to you, wanted everyone to know he made you limp walk next day in college.

He also knew he would be back begging you to fuck him again.

You looked out of the window and saw the main door open. Will and Mia walked towards the car, giggling, unaware of what was going on inside.

Harry felt his phone chime beside him and saw a 'miss you' text from his girlfriend ex-girlfriend.

He decided not to reply and rubbed your clit faster making your moans along with his louder.

"Have all mind to just come inside you, babe. Have you knocked up and let everyone know you're mine and not that dickhead's" He said with his pace now faltering, his own orgasm approaching.

"Yes, please," you whined out and leaned down to kiss him. It was a mess of teeth and tongue, and you came all around his cock with a loud moan.

Harry not far behind pulled out of you and came all over your pussy and lower tummy, your lips not leaving his once.

"What the fuck?!" A feminine scream came from beside him and you smirked against his lips feeling the satisfaction seep into you. You bit down on Harry's lips, making him whimper for change.

You pulled away to see the two people looking at you with wide eyes. William's angry eyes on his brother while Mia's flicked between you two.

"What is all this? You whore, I didn't gave you attention for few days and you fucked my brother!" William screamed reaching out his hand to probably yank you away from Harry but before he could Harry stopped his hand and twisted it as far as he could making him cry out in pain.

"Fucking touch her and see what happens" he growled and you sweared your pussy skipped a beat.

"You're my best friend. How could you do this?" Mia started crying, and you rolled your eyes at her audacity.

"You have been fucking mine for four months. You have no place to talk about girl code" you said, looking her straight in eyes and seeing them widened in horror and realization.

"I- That-" She started stumbling over her words but just cut her off, "Save it"

"So this is what? a revenge? Fucking my brother!" William screamed. You looked at him over your shoulder and smirked, putting your head down on Harry's shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your lower waist.

"You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes"

*****

I can't believe my hlaf asleep dumbass posted this half written😭🤦‍♀️

Taglist- @tenaciousperfectionunknown @that-daydream-look @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @lomlhstyles @vmpellie @sunshinemoonsposts @jayde515

Please Like, Comment and Reblog.

You can talk to me here♡ cause I love it when you guys talk to me about anything!

Requests are unfortunately closed.

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userautumn · 3 months ago

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this fandom is annoying me so i'm going to say this once and then fuck off back to my shows.

on the topic of eddie's parents: helena has always treated eddie like he is an unfit parent. both of his parents have, but helena especially has led that charge. yes, his parents love him. i do not doubt that. but i said some weeks ago that i think helena/ramon would have been much happier raising eddie and chris as siblings rather than letting eddie be a father, and i stand by that. throughout the narrative, they have indicated time and time again that they think his choices are wrong—from their unwillingness to accept shannon fully, to coming outright and saying they think eddie is on a downward spiral and that he's going to crash and burn and take christopher with him. this is not an "Evil Parents" buddie conspiracy theory, this is a canon fact.

at every opportunity, helena especially has been trying to pry christopher away from his father. this is also a canon fact. in 2x18, after shannon's funeral, she tried to get eddie to bring chris (and himself, but eddie was most definitely the afterthought in that conversation) back to texas. in 4x14, eddie says to buck that his parents will fight for custody. and while eddie's relationship with his father has changed since the early seasons, this is still very much so a recurring theme in their dynamic.

so it stands to reason that helena would feel gleeful, or satisfied, or maybe even triumphant over the fact that she's finally gotten what she wanted. again, this isn't a headcanon, this is just common sense. she's been wanting chris back in texas for years, and now she's finally gotten her wish. i mentioned earlier that eddie himself is an afterthought in the conversation of the diaz boys' return to texas, and this remains true. helena favors christopher over her own son. this is also a canon fact. in 8x1, she sees her son sitting on camera at the saddest looking birthday party anyone's ever seen, and her response is "oh well! better luck next time! bye!" she doesn't offer to call him back later. she doesn't even look sad that he's sad. she simply continues about her day like her child is not suffering.

now, i still firmly believe that helena diaz loves her son. but if she has empathy for her him and the struggles he's facing—and has faced—she has yet to express it. this is also, unfortunately, canon.

having said that.

christopher is a teenager. he is not a little boy anymore. it was cute when he took an uber to buck's house because his dad made him mad, but this is quite a different situation. we've talked ad nauseam about the kim/shannon of it all because the trauma and betrayal of that is significant. but there are layers here. because it's not just that christopher thought his mom was back from the dead, it's also that eddie did what he (in christopher's mind) does best—he messed up a good thing right as christopher was getting to enjoy it.

9-1-1 is designed so that we, the viewers, are able to empathize with eddie's struggles. we're adults so, on average, we know why he makes the choices he makes and we can, on some levels, relate to them. even if we don't agree, we can understand the logic behind these choices. but christopher does not have the luxury of adulthood. and, if you put yourself in his shoes, his entire life since coming to los angeles has been extraordinarily unstable. some of these things were obviously outside of eddie's control, such as the tsunami and his dad getting shot. but they still happened.

so now, he is this fourteen year old kid who has lived through trauma after trauma, all the while witnessing his dad try to put himself back together after a lifetime of pain. and one of those ways eddie tries to put himself back together is by dating again. first, he dates ana and, objectively, ana was the perfect choice. she was smart. she was beautiful. she was good with kids. she was latina, which his parents/dad would have approved of, and christopher liked her very much. but then, just as it's getting good and looking real, eddie breaks up with her. again, we, the viewers, know why he did what he did. he was having panic attacks at the mere thought of being with her. but if you're christopher it looks like dad is pulling the plug on a good thing for no reason.

same as when eddie leaves the 118. we, adults, know eddie is struggling. hell, even christopher knows eddie is struggling. but we can understand the depths of the layers here. christopher didn't/doesn't. all he knew/knows is that, not only did his dad leave behind his job/his family/his stability, he did all that and cited him as the reason for that decision. which is why christopher said, "i never asked you to [leave the 118]." so now we fast forward to the present and we have eddie and this thing with marisol. they go on family outings, she moves in, and all these things start to feel like permanence. they start to feel like eddie has finally maybe gotten himself on solid ground and can start to enjoy his life again, or maybe for the first time.

and then he goes and cheats on marisol. with christopher's dead mom.

so we can see the multiple layers of this situation.

eddie loves his son, christopher loves his dad, and eddie diaz is a good parent. i will stand by that to the day i die, and all of these things are overwhelmingly evident. but that doesn't change the fact that the most stable home christopher has ever known is the home he lived in with his grandparents. which is sad. it's really sad to say, because we know eddie has tried so hard for that boy in so many ways. as a single parent, raising his kid to the best of his ability was so much more a full-time job than he was prepared for. but he did it. he strapped in and did the work of two people and, in doing so, it became imperative that, above all else, he gave his son a safe place to land and didn't give him reasons not to trust him because, at the end of the day, eddie is the only parent christopher has.

but eddie's broken that trust. and now, he has to live with the consequences. but let's be clear, the consequences in question are christopher's absence. helena's satisfaction over having chris in texas is an enormous insult to painful injury that must be addressed by the narrative if they ever want me to like her or believe she has eddie's best interests at heart. but this situation, in typical 9-1-1 fashion, is one in which multiple things can be, and are, true at the same time.

but relative to the matter of christopher and what he's "allowed" to do? eddie's lucky his son is even taking his calls, and he knows that. so he's going to continue to do the work to earn that trust back because he's never done anything but put in 1000% for his son. and that is also a canon fact.

#okay now i'm finished #me writing a 500 word meta on 911 in This economy??? shocking #tv: 911 #jack.txt #the diaz boys

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sansaorgana · 9 months ago

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Hey! I absolutely love your work and was wondering if you would be open to doing a John egan x reader but reader is really close with gales girl Marge and kinda takes care of her while the war is happening and neither of the guys know till they come back and release that Mabye reader moved across the street from Marge and how much she’s been helping Marge, I think it would be interesting to see a domestic and fluff relationship between the two girls and + the men being involved

hello, honey! 💘 thank you so much for your request 😘 it was a very interesting scenario, I love the idea of women helping each other in difficult times 💪🏻💪🏾 not gonna lie, though, I was so jealous of Marge while writing it 🤣 I'm a hopeless case when it comes to Buck, I swear 🙄

Nothing was easy when the boys were away. Handling everything on your own and worrying about your husband at the same time was driving you crazy. You could only imagine how the women left alone with their children had to feel like. You weren’t sure if you’d handle that.

Some women handled the new reality better, some had a more difficult time to adjust. Marge was one of them and as Bucky’s wife you felt responsible for her just like you knew that your husband felt responsible for her boyfriend. They were closest friends and you were aware that if it was Bucky who had stayed in The US, he would take care of Marge because she was important for Gale. But it wasn’t him here, it was you.

You had only met her a few times before John went to Europe but she was sweet and she had wanted you to remain friends like your men were. You would call each other every week and talk on the telephone, trying to cheer yourselves up. But when both of your men had found themselves in the POW camp, you noticed that Marge was getting worse.

You packed your bags and decided to move in with her for some time. She was living alone and spending her whole days worrying. You couldn’t let that happen.

“They are together there, darling,” you squeezed her hands in yours when you were sitting together on her couch. “Think about that, it’s quite lucky that they’re together even there,” you didn’t know how else to cheer her up.

“But God only knows how long they will be there…” She sniffled her tears back. “What if we never see them again? How do they treat them?”

“We can try to write them letters, how about that? I know that the Red Cross helps with delivering them. Maybe they will get ours,” you proposed and she nodded, hesitantly.

“You know, Gale asked me to marry him in his last letter before he went down,” she confessed and you gasped before hugging her tight.

“Oh, congratulations! Then you absolutely have to write to him! You can’t leave him waiting!” You encouraged her and she broke a smile.

“Of course I’m going to say yes.”

“Of course,” you winked at her. “You know, some part of me is less worried now when I know John’s in the camp. At least he doesn’t fly anymore,” you told her. “I only hope he behaves well there because you know what he’s like. If he acts up too much, they can hurt him.”

“I’m sure that my Gale is watching over him and doesn’t let him act stupid,” Marge squeezed your hand and you nodded. She was right. The boys were looking out for each other. Just like you and Marge.

A few weeks later you already decided to stay in the same town where Marge lived. There was a house down the road for sale and you decided to move in there. You knew that John wouldn’t get mad about it and he’d like to live closer to his friend, too. You were sure he’d follow Buck wherever he’d go so you just didn’t listen to your family telling you it was an impulsive decision. It was not. Marge needed you and you needed her.

In the meantime, Buck had his birthday in late December. Marge was very sad about it so you came up with an idea of baking him a cake and decorating it with candles. You invited a few close friends and took pictures of his birthday party to show him when he’s back. She wrote to him about it in a letter that she hoped the Red Cross would manage to deliver. You did the same thing in September 1944 when it was your husband’s birthday and then again in another December for Buck again. This time it was more sad, though, when you both realised that it was his second birthday in the POW camp already. You were slowly starting to lose hope to ever see your husband again, too. But you tried not to show it and be strong. For Marge.

In the letter you wrote to your husband, you mentioned that you moved closer to Marge and that you were looking after her. But you didn’t tell him everything because there were things that men would not understand. And there were things men should not know. You didn’t want them to worry even more but there were nights where both of you would just hug each other and cry. You tried to remain strong for her, to be the responsible one. But it was so difficult. You would let a few silent tears flow, trying to cheer her up although the words you were saying were not believable even to you.

“Germany is losing this war, Marge, we’re gonna see our boys again, soon,” you rubbed her back on those nights as you were sitting by the fireplace.

“What if they get rid of their prisoners? They’re not good people, they don’t respect the laws,” she sobbed.

And what could you answer? You felt the same, you were worried about the exact same thing on all the sleepless nights, clutching on the sheets and praying to all the gods above you to keep your men safe.

“It just won’t happen,” you told her as if you were a god yourself and you knew. But you didn’t, you couldn’t know. She chose to trust you because she desperately needed to be assured.

Sometimes you wished it had been you being held by her. Sometimes you felt weak, too. But you chose to look after her and you would not back out.

In the summer of 1945 they finally came back and you threw a small party at Marge’s house to greet the boys home. Everything had been arranged by just the two of you – flowers, decorations and food. You had lots of fun preparing it together, excitedly awaiting to see your men again.

Of course you feared they would be different now. They had spent so much time in that camp, there was no way they’d come back the same. But you promised each other to always be there for the other one; to help and support when needed. You were like family now.

At the first sight they seemed the same – except for the eyes, they were sadder now. But your John was still playful as he spun you around and rubbed his nose with yours. He made a few teasing comments and inappropriate jokes that would make Gale roll his eyes and sigh. Gale seemed to be the same as well – kind and charming as always, with only a few new scars on his cheeks that Marge kissed all over.

But you knew it was just an act. You knew because the way you behaved oh-so-normal around them was an act, too. You were smiling and joking around with your husband like in the old days, but in fact you just wanted to curl up in his arms and cry out all the ugly tears you had been holding inside for the past two years.

When all the guests left, you helped Marge in the kitchen to wash the dishes before you and John would go home, too. You were talking with each other softly about some silly things when Gale and John entered the kitchen and leaned on the wall as they watched you.

“What is it, boys?” You asked them with a soft smile.

“Just admiring our wives, can’t we?” John winked at you and you playfully rolled your eyes.

“I’m not a wife yet,” Marge teased.

“Soon you will be!” You reminded her excitedly and she giggled.

“I’ll go to the garden to see if there aren’t any dishes there,” she told you and you nodded. Marge went outside and you went back to drying the plates with a cloth.

“Thank you,” you heard Gale’s voice behind you as you flinched.

“Gee, you scared me. For what, Buck?” You asked.

“You were taking care of her,” he looked into your eyes deeply and for the first time this evening you could see all the hurt and pain on his face that he had been trying to hide.

“It’s nothing, don’t even mention that,” you told him as your voice broke. “You were looking after my Bucky.”

“And he was looking after me. Every day,” Gale nodded and walked away from you as Marge entered the kitchen again with a few plates and glasses.

You glanced at your husband who went oddly silent. He only watched you with sad eyes and you realised there were things about that war they would not tell you nor Marge in a long time. Perhaps never.

You finished the dishes and said goodbye to Marge and Gale. They were not married yet so he was supposed to rent a place nearby for a few weeks until the wedding but on that night he wanted to stay with her and you couldn’t blame him. You waved at them for the one last time and took John’s hand to go back to your house.

You opened the door and turned the light on with a relaxed sigh.

“I hope you like it, John. I had to manage everything on my own,” you told him.

He had been in the house early in the morning after his arrival but soon after you had left for the party at Marge’s house.

“Yeah, I can see that. Some things need to be fixed,” he pointed out and you shook your head at him as he grinned widely and pulled you closer for a hug. “I will repair them, don’t you worry, sugar.”

“Good. But overall you like it, yes?” You bit on your lower lip.

“Of course I do. It’s beautiful. But I’d live with you in a tent by the river, you know that? Everything would be beautiful with you in it,” he leaned in to place a soft kiss upon your lips and you threw your hands around his neck. “You’ve been a brave girl. I know what you did for Marge,” he whispered.

“I’ve already told Buck that it’s nothing.”

“No, it’s not nothing,” John insisted. “I know how much it had to cost you. Taking care of her when you needed to be taken care of, too. I know,” he caressed your cheek gently. “I’ve been taking care of him. Yeah, he was the one to keep me out of trouble but I’ve made sacrifices for him that only I know about,” he confessed.

For a moment, you felt jealous of Buck Cleven.

“I guess we are just good friends,” you tried to make a lighthearted comment about it. “They’re very lucky to have us.”

“Mhm, incredibly lucky,” John chuckled and leaned in once again to rub your nose with his. “I missed you terribly. Every day and every night. I’m not as good with words as Buck is, I’ve never been the romantic type but I hope you know that I mean it. I love you,” he whispered and you cupped his face with a smile.

“Bucky, baby, I didn’t fall for you because you were a romantic or good with words anyway. I fell for you because you were my goof. My class clown,” you assured him. “And I missed you, I missed you, I missed you… Terribly. Awfully. Dreadfully,” you kept saying these words and laughing through the tears of joy as he laughed, too.

“Okay, enough, I get the picture,” he pecked your lips. “Your goof is back now,” he assured you and you caressed his hair with your fingertips.

“I’m glad,” you nodded. “But if my goof needs to be sad sometimes or wants me to hug him and tell him it’s going to be alright, I don’t want him to keep it a secret, alright? I’m here for you, baby, for better and for worse,” you promised.

Bucky pulled you even closer for a very tight hug as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, his moustache tickling your soft skin. You put your arms around him and squeezed him in a loving way.

“I’m grateful, sweetheart,” he whispered into your ear as he placed a small kiss on your cheek, “but now it’s time for you to be taken care of.”

MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #*bucky #lilysfiction #callum turner x reader #john egan x reader

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therealslimshakespeare · 11 months ago

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Dear John | Part 2

Masters of the Air Fanfiction

Series Summary: Major John Egan wasn’t the pen-pal sort but a couple of hours into a dark night full of writing condolence letters he finds himself wondering why he never tried his hand at the nicer forms of correspondence. Who better to reanimate his numb inspiration than the glamorous Miss Lana Tierney? -the army’s girl next door, the pinup so prolific she was practically a wall paper print and Bucky’s long-standing cinematic crush. It’s not like she’ll read it anyways. Right? Right.

Warnings: suggestive language, crass vocabulary, the vintage form of sexting -honestly this is mostly fluffy in reply to his more overt letter

Author’s note: after episode four I’ve got feelings and fics for this universe that are far ahead of these establishing pieces. So I’ve gone ahead and tossed this preliminary one out but I may very well skip around and ahead to October next. At least now y’all know: she wrote him back. Hehe. If it’s of interest, I’ll probably end up writing John’s reaction to receiving this response as well as Gale’s response to realizing his friend actually went and sent that awful thing.

Date: Early August, 1943

Dear John, (I’m sorry Major Egan, I just had to)

Thank you for your kind letter of the 18th. It’s been many years since I received so delightful a correspondence or so candid an expression of admiration. And you should know I keep most of the letters the sweet people of this country send me. They’re stacked in quite an orderly fashion in my various garages, kept for the rainy days to peruse and keep the blues away and also so I might try very hard to reply. I don’t take such affection for granted. It’s humbling really, always has been, to be so loved by folks but it’s another level entirely to be singled out by someone as brave and impressive as yourself.

I found your letter to be heartfelt and wonderfully brave and in an effort to be equally transparent, you should know that when I finished it I clutched it to my breast and whispered half a dozen prayers for you. Or as you might say, I held it to my knockers.

That’s an awful word, you must know that Major.

As is “rack”, for that matter, but I’ve a sneaking suspicion that you would make it sound charming as even your blotted paper was electric. How could you dare to praise my film set flapjacks and mention making babies? I’m fizzing just glancing at it. You really must be quite the fella and I’m terribly sad now that our rendezvous, such as you say it was, got cut short. You must reprimand your friend -Buck, is it?- and tell him he did an bad deed that night. There’s nothing I like better than duets and hamburgers, we might’ve been one of the great loves by now if he hadn’t meddled. But don’t be too hard on him, if he’s the sort to take it well, kiss him for me, after you chide him.

But since we are being honest, I must admit, reading your letter, being privy to your thoughts, seeing myself through your eyes as it were - dear man, I feel rather riled. Quite riled, in fact. Why, I haven’t felt riled in a while, not like this. Not like an ordinary girl with an extraordinary boy. Do you know what I mean?

Maybe you don’t.

I mean regular, old fashioned flustered. That’s what you’ve made me. And thank you for that, John. Can I call you Johnny? I wonder if you’re the nickname sort, or if you’re real stern and serious, a real John-John. Not a Johnny at all. But either way, I think you deserve a treat, for being so nice, Major Egan. For reminding me I can feel my pulse somewhere besides my wrists before a show -and for all you’re doing in the war, besides. There seems to be no safer hands to trust this to, you do seem so very fond of them, I am led to believe you’d be protective of them, too.

Enclosed is something for the personal morale, I hope you’ll think of me nightly with it at hand, in fact, I’m so excited about it I’ve taken this ill advised measure to insure you do. I’d very much like a report, do they live up to your expectations? They’re homegrown, after all, I hadn’t much say in them but now I’ve got them, I don’t see why they shouldn’t do their bit to keep you alive. A small sacrifice.

One of those reasons you mentioned, John, you’ve so many of them, more than you know. A million souls over here rooting you on, insisting you make it out the other side.

I’m forefront among them, I’ll be scanning the crowd when I come to Europe -because I will, at your invitation. Perhaps if you send me a picture of your own mug I won’t be looking a fool asking every man in uniform if I remind them of an acorn. Are you going to tell me what on earth that means? I’ve tried to work it out but I always end up with some mathematical conundrum and I just know in my heart of hearts you wouldn’t let me down like that, would you Major? It’s something awfully salacious, isn’t it? Please let it be!

I’m a vain little thing and I can’t deny the way this poor heart of mine is all pitter pattering at the thought of you being so awful while also so nice. It’s a strange blend, and rather like my coke, I do prefer my men mixed.

Best wishes, may you have cloudless skies and fresh coffee to your heart's content. My sources -and I’ve excellent ones, an upside of working the war bond circuit- tell me you’re airforce. I think that’s remarkable and I hope you give that picture some thought. Mine, and yours.

Your vain little friend,

Julia Jean Turner

P.S.-I’m only ever ‘The Lana Tierney ‘ to strangers, and we aren’t strangers now, are we? not if you’re to take my picture to your bunk. i suspect you may have already taken that liberty. who’s to say I did not take similar liberties upon reading certain stirring passages of your letter? Xx 💋

__insert vintage titty pic__

Whew this week was a doozy wasn’t it? Here’s some fluff for those of y’all who needed it, and I can promise angst soon for those who want to stay in the soul shattering mood. Hope you enjoy. Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, let me hear your screams.

Drop a comment to let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my MOTA fics. Xo

Taglist:

@stylespresleyhearted

@ab4eva

@earth-to-lottie

@suraemoon

@blurredcolour

@steph-speaks

@crazymadpassionatelove

@rubyfruitjungle

@taestrwbrry

#masters of the air #masters of the air fanfiction #john egan #John Egan x oc #mota fanfic #bucky egan #dear john

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hippolotamus · 9 months ago

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WIP Wednesday ☀️

Tagged by the lovely and talented @tizniz @wikiangela @daffi-990 @theotherbuckley @bidisasterbuckdiaz @wildlife4life @thekristen999 (can't wait to get to all your posted fics and snippets!)

This is not at all what I thought I'd be posting today. But in the course of visiting WIPs through asks the last few days, this one really grabbed me again. Here's the last snippet (and master tag list). It made me cry so now I'm making it your problem, too.

Evan’s voice is shy this time, relieved. Eddie can picture the way he’s cradling his phone, his elbow resting on his other arm wrapped around his middle. The way he’s ducking his chin and his cheeks are probably painted in a rosy blush. It loosens the knot in Eddie’s chest, just the tiniest bit. Enough to ease the mess that’s been tangling together for nearly five years now. “How have you been?” Eddie asks. “Oh, y’know. Okay. I’m in Arizona now. About eight hours from Tucson.” “Arizona? Wow, you, uh, probably aren’t worried about snow storms then.” “Nope.” Evan pops the ‘p’ and gives a small chuckle. “Can’t say that even breaks the top ten. Haboobs on the other hand… well those are a whole other thing.” Eddie’s just about to ask what the hell a haboob is when Christopher’s piercing shriek fills the air. Eddie whips his head around to look. He rushes over to his son who is a pouting mess of tears and flailing limbs, and pulls him into his arms while still holding the phone between his ear and shoulder. “Sorry about that,” Eddie says once he’s got Chris settled in his arms. He looks over his tiny body for any obvious injuries, and feels along his head and spine, not even sure what exactly he’s looking for. The outburst had been so sudden and Chris hadn’t even been so much as toppled over. But then, as quickly as it started, it recedes again as Chris pops his thumb in his mouth and nuzzles into the crook of Eddie’s neck. “Is that-” Evan sucks in a shaky breath, cutting himself off. Eddie’s throat and chest grow tight as realization dawns on him. The reminder of every mistake he’s made – even the ones that gave him his perfect son – sticking like daggers in his heart. Because Evan’s never heard- he doesn’t know. Because he left and was gone. Because Eddie pushed him away and couldn’t be what Evan wanted or needed. “Christopher,” Eddie says, barely able to keep his voice from breaking. “He’s four now. Almost five.” “Christopher,” Evan repeats. An unbearably heavy silence stretches between them, so loud in its intensity that Eddie wishes it would just swallow him whole already. He doesn’t know how much time passes before there’s the sound of shifting and crackling on the other end. “I should, uh, I should go,” Evan rushes out. “It was nice to hear from you again.” “No, Evan, wait-” Eddie pleads, only to be met with more silence as he realizes the call’s been disconnected. Evan’s gone. Again. In a haze, he lets his phone drop to the floor. He rearranges a now dozing Chris as he numbly settles on the recliner, gently rocking them back and forth. Silently, tears begin to stream down his face and he rocks them faster as if it’ll keep him from shattering and breaking apart completely.

np tagging @stereopticons @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @actuallyitsellie @filet-o-feelings @queerbuckleys @bi-buckrights @chaosandwolves @diazsdimples @elvensorceress @epicbuddieficrecs @eowon @fortheloveofbuddie @bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @saybiwithme @honestlydarkprincess @hoodie-buck @indestructibleheart @jesuisici33 @ladydorian05 @lemonzestywrites @lizzie-bennetdarcy @loserdiaz @loveyouanyway @monsterrae1 @rmd-writes @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @statueinthestone @steadfastsaturnsrings @the-likesofus @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @thewolvesof1998 @vanillahigh00 @watchyourbuck @weewootruck @welcometololaland @your-catfish-friend @slightlyobsessedwitheverything and anyone else who wants to 😘

#buck is 'evan' because this is on a *completely* different timeline than canon #eddie is a very sad boi right now #but don't worry we'll fix that #eventually #hippo writes #buddie wip #fic: you can plan for a change in the weather and time

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karenandhenwilson · 6 months ago

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About Coming Out

I've seen some discussion about "how disrespectful and misogynistic it was of Buck to come out at his sister's wedding". And at first I laughed about that take, but after some consideration, I became pretty sad. Because I feel this is one of the most queerphobic takes I've seen in this whole fandom discourse taking place since May.

What does this take imply about being queer and coming out? It tells us that coming out is a big thing. Something that you need to do with great care and put a lot of attention to, that you need to expect everyone else to put a lot of attention to. But not because people might react poorly and it's a decision a queer person needs to make carefully for their own safety's sake (which is the very reality for most queer people in any given situation) and instead because everyone else has the right to make a big deal about it and demand to talk about it and fully concentrate on it no matter what else is going on.

Coming out should not be big thing. It should not even be necessary.

That it is necessary to tell people "hey, you know, I'm not straight" or "hey, you know, I'm not cis" or any other thing people assume about others is a problem of our society. We are living in a heteronormative world. People complain about children being exposed to queer themes, but at the same time the toddlers in the sandpit--one a boy the other a girl--getting along great for the afternoon they are playing together, are called boyfriend and girlfriend. And then they are teased about their "crushes" (at least as long as it's a crush of the oposite gender, of course. In any other case they just really close friends and isn't nice to see such close friendships?).

No one should assume about any real person they see on the street, or in class, or at work, or on the news, or on TV what or who they are. But in the end all of us, the queer community just as much as everyone else, assume about people they don't know that they are straight and cis. Or they assume just by their appearances that they are decidedly not straight or not cis. (I just recently saw a meme: A picture of Christina Aguilera on a stage, and a comment beneath about "the horrors of men dressing as women" or something along those lines. That’s sad for so many reasons, but I think it very much showed the mindset of many people about how their perception is more important than anything else.)

It shouldn't matter. But sadly, it does. We live in a society where I was nervous at 16 when I told my mom "I like girls more than boys at the moment" because I had a horrible crush on a girl in my class when she asked me about dating boys (to then be told by my mother that it was a phase and would go away eventually. I haven't told her yet that it wasn't a phase but that I do use another label now). We live in a society where I used a friend's struggle with her family concerning her girlfriend to very carefully see how my dad would react to me talking about this at 21 and then blurted out "I know how my friend feels because Mom was horrible when I told her I'm bi" (to then break down in tears when my dad just shrugged, said I hadn't told him anything new about myself or my mom and if my friend and her girlfriend needed any help).

I wish we lived in a world where sitting at a café with a relatively new friend and just mentioning "this woman I once dated" without it interrupting the conversation at all was normal. And where it is just as normal that this friend shared a little while later "that's why I mostly dated women before meeting my husband" again without it interrupting our conversation in any way. Our hug when we said goodbye might have been a little bit longer and a little bit tighter than is usual, but other than that it was not a big deal coming out to each other at all. I, for my part, didn't even think about it being a big thing because I feel comfortable and secure with this friend.

I wish we lived in a world where coming out wasn't even necessary.

I wish we lived in a world where others wouldn't make assumptions based on what others look like under their closes, or about who they love, or about who they find attractive, or about who they fuck. Where people wouldn't judge how people style themselves and how they look and what the scale might show about their weight. I wish we lived in a world where none of that mattered. I wish we lived in a world where a man showing up with a boyfriend or showing up single to any event would be as much talked about as a man showing up with a girlfriend: that there would be no talk about it at all.

We don't live in such a world. And when I look at people saying Buck was disrespectful and misogynistic (really, what??? Are people once more just throwing around random words to see which of them will stick?) by coming out at his sister's wedding, I know my nieces and nephews and probably even my grand-nieces and grand-nephews won't ever experience such a world. Because instead of working to normalize being queer, people are doing exactly the opposite. (And then of course the anti-queer laws we are seeing pop up again at the moment, but that's another topic.)

All that despite 9-1-1 showing us at least a glimpse of that world I wish we could live in.

We saw Buck struggle with some internalized homophobia, of course. Because I think that's exactly what his nervousness during the first date and his panic when Eddie showed up was about. We know that Buck isn't homophobic in the slightest. We have seen him interact with enough queer people in the course of the show to know that about him. But clearly, there was a tiny voice in his head--and I'd bet money it sounded very much like Margaret Buckley's voice--telling him it was shameful to date a man. He worked through it very quickly and I think that's a testament of how much he did work through the bullshit his parents planted in his head in therapy. And it might also be a sign of how much he really likes Tommy and wants to be with him that he managed to work through that hateful voice in his head in just a couple of days.

But then we also saw that coming out is very much not a big deal at all at the wedding. I fully believe Buck knew about the soot on his face (Come on guys, he's been a firefighter for over seven years. He worked in a forest fire at least once. Buck knows exactly how soot travels and how difficult it is to get rid of it again.) He chose to have the soot all over his face to show everyone how he had greeted Tommy. He dragged Tommy into the room holding his hand. He took that slight breath to prepare himself for any reaction and then beamed over his whole face. There was no spoken announcement, but it could still not have been louder. I'm sure, if everything had gone according to plan (and Tommy hadn't been stuck fighting a fire) there wouldn't have been any big announcement then either. They'd just have danced among all the other couples dancing at the wedding and let everyone else make their assumptions about it.

And everyone else just reacted like I wish it would always go: They smiled, happy to see Buck happy, and turned back to the main event. No one talked about Buck and Tommy. No one asked Buck and Tommy any questions. No one turned to Buck and said "But you've always liked women!" or asked "Were you hurt by a woman? Is that the reason you are turning to men now?" or accused "You should have told us an age ago! Why didn't you tell us? How dare you not to tell us!".

It was such a fucking beautiful coming-out scene. Because it was full of acceptance and support. And at the same time, it also showed that coming out really isn't a big thing. It showed to beautifully that it doesn't matter who he loves or who he dates.

Buck coming out to the rest of his friends and family was not noteworthy at all among all the events of that day. Because he's found great friends and a great family in LA and all that matters for them is that he is happy with the person he is dating.

So, I would like to ask those people who say that Buck should have gone around and come out to everyone before the wedding because doing it the way he did was stealing his sister's big day (and why only his sisters, anyway? Why not also Chimney's big day?) something: If Buck had brought a new girlfriend, should he have gone around to everyone to inform them about that first? Maddie knew about Tommy, I think Chimney might have known before getting sick. Aren't those the two important people on that day and the only ones who need to know, at least that he was bringing a date?

And also: Should have Hen and Karen gone around to all the guests who don't know them and come out to them? Which includes the Buckley parents. If Josh brought a date, should he have gone to everyone and inform them first about bringing a man as his date? Or to take his one ridiculous step further: Should have Athena and Bobby gone around to everyone who doesn't know them closely to tell them they are an interracial couple? (Because there are people who would still find that scandalous and could have made a scene! No matter that they are currently attending the wedding of another interracial couple.) Why have these couples the right to assume that no one will talk about their relationship when the focus should be on the bride and groom, but Buck and Tommy don't have that right? Just because it's new for Buck? Rally?

(And I'm aware that the people who I'm asking this question probably quit reading this text after the first 100 words or so. They probably didn't get 1.7k words into my essay to get to these questions. And that might just be another problem in this fandom discourse: Certain people are just not open to take the time and energy to openly and honestly deal with opinions that don't agree with their own opinion. Because that could mean having to change their own opinion, right?)

#911 abc #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #maddie buckley #karen wilson #hen wilson #lgbtq #lgbt pride #lgbtqia #queer community #queer pride #gay #bisexual #lesbian #queer #tagging all of these pride tags because this went from a rant about some fandom behavior to getting pretty philosophical about being queer #thoughts about #coming out

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prettyboy-buck · 15 days ago

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Love Me Anyways

Evan Buckley x Male Reader

A/N heads up, this is going to be a short one. i just wanted to write something small to get me back into the mood of writing. also, if this is the first thing of mine, you're reading, I am shitty with editing. It's currently 5am and I have had zero sleep. I'm really not in the mood to heavily edit this. this would be a continuation of what i believe would have happened after he got into that argument with his parents where he yelled love me anyways at his mom. also... can we take a moment for oliver stark's acting in that scene? insane. one last small thing, i might post a second part to this where his partner would do something very sentimental for him, in hopes to make up for the fact that his parents never made him a baby box... let me know if you would want that:) if you have any requests, please let me know!!

Y/N was just sitting on the couch, watching tv whenever he heard the front door start to unlock. Buck has a key to his house. So, it wasn't unusual that he would come over at random hours. Y/N is laid back, only in grey sweatpants. He's watching an old episode of The Walking Dead whenever he sees Buck come through the front door. He immediately picks up on the fact that Buck is not okay. He can see tears flowing down his face; this causes him to quickly sit up.

"Buck? What's wrong?" He asks in a panicked tone. Y/N knew that tonight, Buck was going to have dinner with Chimney, Maddie, and his parents.

Buck just shakes his head. He tries to take a deep breath to calm down, but he can't. A sad whimper slips past his lips.

A concerned look breaks out on Y/N's face. He lays back and opens his arms. He says in a soft tone, "Come here."

Buck walks over and lies down in his arms. His body goes directly on top of Y/N's. His arms go around Y/N's waist and his head goes onto his chest. The second Buck is in his arms, he breaks down.

Y/N wraps his arms around Buck's shoulders and holds him tight. His nose nuzzles into Buck's hair. He softly rubs his back and scratches the back of his head.

"I got you. Let it out, you're safe." Y/N whispers to Buck to try and calm him down.

Buck is a wreck. He just cries and cries into Y/N's chest for a few minutes before he finally starts to calm down.

Y/N quietly asks, "Can we talk about it now?"

Buck sighs. He tightens his arms around Y/N's waist tight and nuzzles his head against Y/N's large bicep.

"Dinner was a wreck. I apparently had an older brother that died. It's such a long story that I still don't even know all of the details to. It was kept a secret from me up until now. Maddie even knew... My parents got onto the topic of jobs. They mentioned the fact that they hear I'm in the hospital a lot. I got upset and said you hear, you never come though. Mom always makes up this bullshit excuse that she, "isn't good with hospitals." She was saying she can never come because she can't deal with seeing her children in hospitals. They move from the topic of jobs and dad breaks out a gift he brought Maddie for Jee. It was a baby box filled with her baby stuff. I get excited thinking, oh hey I'm going to get my own one day. Big shocker, my parents did not save any of my baby stuff. I lost it on them after that. I went on about how they just gave up on both of us then told them the reason I'm in therapy is because of them; because I was just a kid that wanted them to just love me anyways."

Y/N stays quiet for a moment then just hugs Buck even tighter. He has a hand on the back of his head. He quietly says, "You know you didn't deserve any of that, right? You were just a little boy that wanted his mother and father to actually look at him and simply love him. That does not make you the bad person."

Buck tenses up hearing Y/N's words. He feels his eyes start to tear up. He hides his face further into Y/N's chest.

Y/N continues speaking in a soft tone, "You are such a strong man, and I am so god damn proud to call you the man that I love. I have watched you grow so much from the little dorky himbo I knew ten years ago, to the strong, caring, smart, loving man you are today. it has been such a privilege to witness that."

Buck feels his body start to tremble as sobs break throughout his chest. He holds onto Y/N tightly with every fiber in his being. He says in broken sobs, "Do you mean that?"

Y/N nods with zero hesitation. He says in a soft tone, "I will repeat it every single day until the day I die, if I have to Buck."

Y/N softly runs his fingers through his hair and rubs his back. He keeps reassuring him in a soft loving voice, "I got you. You're safe. Let it all out."

There are quiet, genuinely sad whimpers slipping past Buck's lips.

Y/N just keeps consoling him, rubbing his back and kissing his temple till he calms down some. He softly sighs and hugs him tight. He says in a quiet voice, "I wish I could take your pain away baby. I do. I love you to the moon and back."

Buck feels beyond drained, mentally and physically, after the dinner and just finally letting out his feelings from it all. He yawns quietly into Y/N's chest.

Y/N smiles softly, caressing the back of his head. "Get some rest, my love. I'll be right here whenever you wake up."

Buck just melts into Y/N's hold and softly sighs.

It doesn't take long before Buck's dozing off.

It's in this moment that Buck realizes, he doesn't need the acceptance and love of others. The love Y/N has for him is bigger than Mount Everest stacked on every other mountain in the entire world. The safety and love he gets from hearing Y/N's heartbeat within this very moment tells him everything he needs to know. He has the one person who truly loves him for him, underneath him.

#evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x male reader #evan buckley imagines #evan buck buckley imagines #911 imagines #bi buck

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spotsandsocks · 10 months ago

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Holding Me Up 688 words

7x1 missing scene for you… this hit me this morning because Eddie’s face as he stands against that wall has broken me. He needs a hug. If anyone has the gif and wants to add it for me please do I have no skill in that area! Spoilers for 7x1 obviously .Tagging some friends who might be interested under cut hope you don’t mind 😊

The wall pressed against his back isn’t warm, it isn’t cold. It just is. It’s just there.It’s holding him up. It’s keeping him hidden. It’s protecting him, just like it’s protecting Chris.

It’s keeping them safe from each other's pain. It’s letting his kind, beautiful, gentle son share his hurt, something he hadn’t seen coming, at least not yet, with the best man he knows. The only person he can trust with this. The only person he wants to trust with this.

It’s letting him close his eyes and allow his own hurt to flow through him freely. It’s holding him up while the ache of it all tries to take him to the floor.

The pain of losing her not once but twice still hurts but not like it did then, he almost wishes it did, his own pain is easier to bear than his; than Christopher’s words, his confusion and doubt. His fear and anger that he wasn’t enough to make her stay. That he’s lost his mother a third time now as her voice slips from his mind. As the gentleness of her fingers, the warmth of her arms and the scent of her disappears from his world. Christopher’s pain is unbearable but he faces it and allows every ounce of the agony to be felt.

The wall pressed against his back isn’t warm, it isn’t cold but is strong and he’s so very grateful for it.

Buck talks gently, so much understanding and compassion in his voice. So much love. Eddie asked Buck to do this and he came without question, jumped straight in. Buck has stayed with him, stood beside him and had his back for years.

Buck holds him up as much as this wall does.

Eddie stands still, aching and hurting as the two people he loves most talk softly to each other. He knows what he needs to do so he walks away to do it.

Buck finds him of course, with a quiet knock on the bedroom door and a even quieter ‘hey’

He looks up from the envelope in his hand. Buck’s lips are curled into a sad smile, his eyes are sad too.

“You heard.”

It’s not a question but he nods silently, tears in his eyes.

“I’ve had this for years now.” He looks back at the rectangle of paper in his hand. It’s easier than looking at Buck. “It’s from Shannon, she wrote it for him when she left.”

As he walks past Buck in the doorway, he pauses and allows himself to take comfort from the touch of a hand on his arm. Strong and warm and his. Theirs. He always has been.

Buck squeezes once then lets go so he can go and do what needs to be done.

Nothing hurts like your child’s pain.

Eddie leaves his son to his homework and walks away. There’s nothing else to do. He’s been hurt before by the things that have hurt Christopher but not like this. Nothing’s hurt as much as the words he’d shared with Buck, the way he discarded the letter or the way the photo of his mother was placed down on his desk.

He finds himself standing in the bright light of his living room, heart breaking for his baby boy’s broken heart.

“Eds?”

Buck.” Here. In front of him, waiting.

“He didn’t read it. Didn’t even open it.”

“He will, just give him time.”

He nods once, Buck’s right, Chris will read it and he’ll understand what happened a little better, he won’t understand everything, not yet but he’ll get there.

It’s still unbearable to see your child in such pain but he bears it because he has to and because he’s being held up again, not by a wall this time but by arms and a strong warm body, pulling him close and holding him tight.

Buck hugs him and whispers in his ear. “He’s a good kid and you're a great dad. It’ll be ok. It’ll all be ok.”

Eddie wraps his arms around the man who’s always been there for him and believes him.

@loveyourownsmiilee @monsterrae1 @shortsighted-owl @the-likesofus @hoodie-buck @loserdiaz @buddierights @rogerzsteven @bekkachaos @thekristen999 @ronordmann @caroandcats @hippolotamus @spaceprincessem @disasterbuckdiaz @heartshapedvows @underwater-ninja-13 @wildlife4life @wikiangela @stagefoureddiediaz @thewolvesof1998 @exhuastedpigeon @weewootruck @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @pirrusstuff @elvensorceress @jesuisici33 @eddiebabygirldiaz @daffi-990 @diazsdimples @steadfastsaturnsrings @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @rainbow-nerdss @lover-of-mine @tizniz @fortheloveofbuddie @actualalligator @watchyourbuck @loveyouanyway @buddieslovecore

#911abc #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #Buddie #buddie fic #buddie ficlet #7x1 misşing scene #7x1 coda #911 spoilers #911 fic

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sarahowritesostucky · 4 months ago

Text

📖"The Carter Academy for Omega Excellence" Pt 10

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: age gap, boarding school au, a/b/o, dub-con/non-con, spanking, feminization, dumbification, sexism, misogyny, prostate milking, discipline, D/s elements, hurt/comfort, mentions of past self-harm, predatory behavior, teacher/student, bathroom use control, humiliation, omorashi

Summary: Bucky Barnes is young, confused, and conflicted—a real "rebel without a cause" type. His parents ship him off to Steve's reform school to help him get straightened out into a "proper young omega."

Wait! I haven't read an earlier part of this fic! Story Masterlist

Part 10 Expedient Action

Steve watches as the kid’s lower lip trembles, his stubborn little cleft chin moving along with it, and he hums sadly. “Do you remember the last time you were happy, Bucky?”

The boy shrugs, won’t meet his eyes. “Dunno,” he eventually says.

Steve nods, having expected as much. Slowly, he curls his fingers over the top of the towel at Bucky’s waist. Bucky’s stomach sucks in with tension when he realizes that Steve intends to pull the towel off him, but he makes no move to try and stop it. Steve lets it fall to the floor, then looks at Bucky’s lap, eyes briefly considering the state of the omega’s rigid little prick, before sliding to the side to look at his leg. Sadness fills him again at seeing them, even though he’d known they were there.

Right along the top of Bucky’s left thigh are a series of pale lines. Scars, lined up in a tidy little row that begins at his hipbone and ends several inches before the knee. Most are white, but some are pink, still in various stages of healing from the recent past. Months old, but not years. Steve grabs Bucky’s hands when he tries to cover himself. “It’s okay, Buck. You’re not in trouble.”

Bucky whines and tugs his hands away. “Leave me alone,” he groans, sounding miserable. Steve has no doubt that he is, though that doesn’t mean that he’s not aroused, as well. Steve could smell his slick as soon as he’d gotten out of the shower, and it’s only intensified since then. Understandable, after what they’d witnessed from the doorway of Parker’s room. (Steve really needs to give Natasha a good bonus this semester. That woman knows how to get a task done.)

With the towel discarded, Bucky’s scent is rich and unimpeded, that pleasant mix of loamy earth and spiced verbena combining to arouse Steve’s senses. Virtually all omegas smell nice at bare minimum. Even ones pregnant by other alphas still smell good, if not particularly arousing. But again, he’s reminded that the notes of Bucky’s scent stand out to him more than what he’s accustomed to, pulling at all the baser instincts that live in the back of his brain.

He tries his best not to let his enjoyment of it show, but there’s only so much a man can do. He’s wearing his own special brand of compression underwear at the moment. Made for alphas, thank god, or else there’d be a very different situation at the front of his slacks right now. The bloody things are tight as fuck, but they do a good job at concealing all but the most aggressive of boners. And for an alpha who spends his days surrounded by hundreds of teenaged omegas reaching the peak of their sexual maturity, they are a godsend.

Steve rests his hand on Bucky’s leg, right over the scars. Oh Sweetheart, he thinks mournfully. Who did this to you? He lets his thumb trace one silvery-thin line, probably one of the oldest, and hushes Bucky’s whimper when it comes. “When did you start doing this, Honey?” he asks, being careful to keep his voice as gentle and as coaxing as he can. “Shh. It’s okay.” Poor thing’s just embarrassed as all get-out, and Steve isn’t trying to scold him. “When, Bucky?”

“I dunno.” He shrugs and won’t meet Steve’s eyes. “Couple’a years ago, I guess. I don’t do it anymore. Not … not much.”

“That makes sense,” Steve observes. He’s baiting Bucky, and it works.

The kid peeks up at him. “It does?”

“Sure. Your heats mature at about fifteen, sixteen. That’s when it gets harder. Without a safe and consistent partner with you each cycle, you’re not going to be very fulfilled.” He watches as Bucky frowns down at his lap and thinks about that. “Has that been your experience?” he prods gently. “Feeling unfulfilled?”

“I … no.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Want to try saying that like you mean it?”

Bucky grimaces. “I mean, I didn’t use to think so. It just was what it was, y’know? Most kids don’t have a heat partner, so I figured I was just bein’ oversensitive. I at least had Brock. … Once in a while, anyways.”

“Hm.”

“I thought that was good,” he says, looking to Steve for confirmation in a way that is pitifully naïve. “Nobody else pairs. Unless they’re dating. And even then, people have lives. They can’t just stop everything for a week every single month. That’d be ridiculous.”

“Right,” Steve says, hating this. He wants to growl and bundle Bucky up and make him see how neglected he’s been, how he deserves so much more. “You felt like you had to make due on your own.”

“Yeah. Sometimes I could get a hookup, at least for the second day of my heat. Those are usually the worst.” Bucky looks away, evasive. “And … I tried some things.”

“Suppressants?”

“Yeah. But before I figured out how to get a doctor to prescribe ‘em, I used to steal Ransom’s credit card to buy some of those supplements you see in the infomercials. You know: with the testimonials and everything? People saying how good they work?”

“How well they work,” Steve corrects under his breath. “Those are expensive.”

“Hundred and fifty bucks plus shipping, every month,” Bucky confirms. “Well, at least until Ransom noticed it on his credit card statement.” He colors a little and admits, “I also tried those things they sell over the counter at the pharmacy. Those, erm, those things that you can take. That you stick up your—”

“I’m familiar,” Steve drawls. “So, you put multiple things in your body without knowing what was in them.”

“Well I figured they couldn’t sell ‘em on tv if it wasn’t safe,” Bucky defends. “And besides, everybody does it.”

“Not exactly winning me over, here, kid.”

“Look, you don’t understand!” he snaps. “You’re alpha. You don’t get it. Heats are stupid, they're not fun. They just get in everybody’s way, and these products help. They help quality of life. They help make it less of a problem.”

Steve holds back the actual growl that wants to come at hearing such a tragic pile of tripe. “Did you ever stop to wonder why it’s always your natural biology that gets labeled as the ‘problem’, hm? Always something to be fixed, rather than something you’re entitled to? Something you deserve to have accommodated?”

Bucky blinks a few times in a row, mouth working. “Well … no. That’s just how it is.”

“Oh is it?”

“It is if you want to make it anywhere in life. Get into a good school, get a good job, work your way up at some company.” He blithely rattles off the examples, speaking like this is all pre-determined truth, and Steve is the only idiot who hasn’t been clued in. “People won’t hire you if you need all that time off of work and stuff. You’ve got to make yourself as good as a beta employee, at least. Otherwise nobody’ll hire you.”

Steve nods solemnly. “Yeah, well that’s where I take issue. I think omega rights—true omega rights—demand that society value omegas for what they naturally are. And that means allowing them the space and time they need for their cycles, not treating it as something inconvenient, not expecting people to use a bunch of drugs to try and force themselves into some, some …” He makes a frustrated gesture. “Some employable box.”

“Well yeah, I guess. But—”

“Omegas deserve to have their contributions as mothers and homemakers valued, too,” Steve asserts, then narrows his eyes at Bucky when the kid rolls his eyes. “You scoff, but the omegas who consistently rank highest in self-reported life satisfaction are those who choose to take on domestic roles. The only thing career omegas consistently rank highest on is level of antidepressant usage. It’s a trend we’ve seen increasing ever since the seventies.”

“Right,” Bucky snaps. “Back in the good old days when we didn’t have any rights.”

“That’s not true,” Steve says sternly. “Omegas had all the same rights as other designations, it was culture that was different. There was a place carved out in society for them. Omegas’ natural affinities were valued. Those who did work were able to find jobs that fit their lifestyles and needs. Now, employers expect you to change yourself for the job, just like you said.” He shakes his head sadly. “One could make the argument that that’s equality, but it sure as hell ain’t fair. Betas and alphas have society shaped to fit their needs, and omegas simply have to try and force themselves into difficult spaces just to get by. I don’t think it’s right that the way we do things is geared towards what alphas and betas naturally need, and nothing that’s naturally omega is accommodated for anymore. Do you?”

Bucky doesn’t answer, but his posture slumps with uncertainty the more he considers what's being said.

Steve softens his tone to something more gentle. “That’s why I think the erasure of gender roles is unhealthy, Buck. Not because I’m a sexist who hates omegas and doesn’t want them to be able to do anything, but because I think you guys deserve so much better. So much more.” He watches Bucky’s face, the growing doubt in his features, and figures it’s time to stop with the proselytizing. He's given the kid something to think on. That's good enough for now. It is bedtime, after all. “Just think on it a bit,” he advises kindly. “You’ve had a lot of experiences, but there’s still a lot for you to learn. Try and do it with an open mind, okay? You might come to see one or two things a little differently.”

Bucky grumbles unhappily, but Steve can tell when his point is getting through. Most students start to come around to considering the school's curricular viewpoint by the one week mark. After a week of constant offers to have his needs fulfilled—and constant refusal of those offers—it’s pretty obvious that Bucky is nearing the turning point. Steve decides to end this little talk on a positive note. He gives him one final pat on his legs. “Okay, Hon. Time for bed.” He stands up and observes the way that Bucky seems to physically stall, unable to quickly process Steve’s sudden departure.

“You’re leaving?” he blurts.

Steve offers him a gentle smile. “Would you like for me to scent anything? Maybe a blanket or a pillow?” Right now there’s only a sheet and a single, thin blanket on the bed. He thumbs backward at the room’s cabinet of nesting supplies. “The nurse said you’re mid-cycle. The urge to nest must be waxing rather than waning at this point, yeah?”

Bucky seems surprised by the offer, but after a moment he nods shyly. “Maybe an extra blanket wouldn’t be so bad.”

Steve turns and goes to grab a blanket out of the cabinet and scent it, taking Bucky’s compliance as a significant win. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and is doubly pleased when Bucky makes no snippy remark at the gendered praise. He doesn’t face Bucky as he scents the top edge of the blanket with his wrist and then his neck. He doesn’t want to push his luck and make the boy so embarrassed that he’ll revert back to his pattern of disrespectful misbehavior. It’s always a balancing act, with new students, but once you get the right combination of domination, kindness, and familiarity? That's when things begin to smooth out.

Bucky takes the blanket with a bashful, “Thank you,” when Steve hands it over, and Steve gives him a quiet rumble of praise for being polite.

“You’re welcome, Honey.” Bucky moves like he’ll get under the blankets, but Steve stops him with a hand on his shoulder. “Hang on a sec. You forgetting something?” Bucky blinks vacantly up at him, and Steve can’t help but chuckle. “We don’t sleep naked, do we?”

Bucky looks back down at himself, like he’d forgotten he was naked in the first place. “Oh.”

Steve fetches him a pair of underwear from the room’s dresser. The students’ nighttime briefs aren’t dissimilar to what they wear under their uniforms during the day, but they consist of one piece rather than two, and the padding’s a bit more … thorough, meant to help deter wandering hands at night. Steve finds himself unable to look away as Bucky puts them on, sliding them up his legs with shaky fingers and whimpering near subvocally when his leaking prick gets covered up by the padding. His hands fist the bedsheets at either side of his hips, and for a second his face gets red and his eyes go unfocused.

Oh Jesus. Steve grinds his teeth at the display, unhappy to feel his own cock pulsing insistently against the seam of his slacks. Bucky’s tortured, straining efforts to not touch himself are near-pornographic to watch, making that warm, sexual urge swirl up harder in Steve’s belly than before. He shifts in place and flexes his hands as he tries to think of something to counter the pulsing in his dick—picturing his grandparents fucking is his usual failsafe, in times like this. He doesn’t want his scent to grow so strong that it affects Bucky right now. Not when they’re ending the night on such a positive note.

The thought of Nana and Pawpaw doing the nasty does the trick, and Steve retreats to the doorway. He hums in approval as he watches Bucky climb into bed and get settled. He nests only the barest bit, almost tentatively, tucking the scented end of the blanket up alongside his pillow and draping the rest of it over his body. He curls up on his side and nuzzles his cheek against the pillow. Steve waits with his hand poised to flip the light switch. “You have everything you need?” he checks, giving Bucky one final chance to be honest about his needs.

But he simply tucks his face into the scented blanket and closes his eyes. “Uh huh.” His still-damp hair is stark against the white pillowcase, and Steve’s heart gives a fond twinge at the sight.

It does dry curly.

“Okay,” he says quietly. He flicks the lights off, knowing that by tomorrow morning, he’ll have a punishable offense to address with the boy. “Goodnight, Bucky.”

“… Night, Steve.”

Despite the excellent performance of composure that he’s managed to maintain with Bucky for the past few hours, all that time with the omega really has taken its toll. Steve is relieved to get back and shut himself away in the confines of his office. It feels like a sanctuary right now. It’s a deep mental and physical relaxation that hits him as soon as he sinks into his desk chair and inhales the professionally filtered, pheromone-free air of the room.

“Ahh," he sighs, rubbing at his temples. "God save the queen. Fuck."

Compared to other alphas, he’s got excellent control of his reactions and is able to mask a great deal (an invaluable skill when one works with hordes of hormonally-peaking teenagers), but the end of the school day always provides a bit of relief—today more than most.

He opens his laptop and leaves it to boot up while he goes over over to pour himself a drink. He pulls out one of the cork-coated lowballs that he keeps in the freezer (because he prefers his drinks on the rocks, but whether he likes it or not Peggy’s had an influence on him these past twenty years, and he knows it’s blasphemy to add ice to a 30 year old Scotch). He eyeballs a finger of the liquor—okay, maybe closer to two fingers—and brings it back to his desk to sniff it and swirl it around.

It’s a vintage that one of Peggy’s relatives gifted them years ago, worth quite a bit of money apparently, and it’s been Steve’s one petty protest amongst the many bigger ones of his soon-to-be ex-wife. He’s only begun making use of it since their divorce proceedings intensified over the summer, with Peggy’s obstinance against fair division of assets reaching damningly selfish levels. Steve never thought of her as someone who’d go for the nerves in a divorce just for the hell of it, and it’s upsetting to see that nastier side exposed. It feels like all his good memories are slowly being tainted by it, made ugly and ruined, like paint thrown over a fine portrait of the woman he’d once admired. Steve’s not a heavy drinker, but he’s nearly made his way through the entire bottle these past few weeks.

At his desk, he peruses current events on his newsfeed and a few academic articles of interest, being sure to sip steadily despite his leanings as a teetotaler. He wants to feel a bit of a buzz by the time he dares to brave his inbox. The little icon tells him that he’s got dozens of unread emails waiting in there. Not unusual for a weekday, but there’s one from Peggy that he purposefully puts off for last. And surprisingly, there’s one email each from the personal accounts of both Tony Stark and Harlan Thrombey.

He clicks on Stark’s first, expecting the email to contain more demands for the accommodations he wants for the upcoming parents’ weekend. Sure enough, Stark doesn’t disappoint, asking Steve to please arrange for a 2-minute slot for one Ms. Pepper Potts to speak during that coming Sunday’s evening ball. It’s during said ball when the school has its traditional slew of scheduled, “spontaneous” rounds of toasts over betrothal announcements. Steve’s happy to agree to a slot for Ms. Potts, just grateful that it won’t be Stark himself making the speech. Thank god for small favors.

Stark also has a footnote jotted in, as though it’s a nothing, requesting a black Rolls Royce Phantom to pick them up afterwards to take them to their hotel in Newcastle-upon-Tyne. In the distinct manner that Steve’s learned only multi-millionaires ever really have, Tony blithely throws out his specifications for the car’s interior temperature (73 degrees Fahrenheit, precisely), a fully-stocked bar, and a selection of snacks and juice boxes that sounds suspiciously catered to a certain omega's tastes.

Smirking and shaking his head, Steve spends a moment researching the costs of this additional, last-minute amenity. He tacks an extra two grand onto the price and shoots the email back with an inflated invoice that brings him no guilt. Academia is little better than a break-even industry, after all. And besides, Stark can afford it.

Normally, Steve would save any email of Peggy’s for last, but given his growing obsession with interest in Bucky’s case, he decides to save Thrombey’s email for last.

Peggy’s email is also very typical of what Steve’s come to expect from her: curt, concise, and infuriatingly presumptive.

📨Peggy: Asset Divisions Update

Steven, it reads, My solicitor will be in touch after this next weekend with an updated proposal for division of assets. I did not find your last offer acceptable. Mr. Jorgensen is out of the country on account of an emergency this week, which is the reason for the delay. I do apologize and hope you will understand. In the meantime, I look forward to enjoying a pleasant and uncompromised parents’ weekend with our two schools. I’ll be in touch soon, in regards to those preparations. Cordially, Peggy.

Steve sneers at the ‘cordially’. “More like cold as ice,” he grumbles, grabbing the glass of scotch to toss back the last few sips. Parents’ weekend is going to be hell, having to be in such constant proximity with her.

Thrombey’s email is long and flowery, in the distinct manner that only novelists ever really have. He rambles on, bemoaning the state of his grandson for several long paragraphs before getting to the point. Finally, he lays out the issue, and it is a doozy:

📨Thrombey: Expedient Action Required

—has come to my attention that the boy has been engaging in a form of online prostitution. Something called only fans.”

Steve’s jaw drops as he feels the blood drain from his face. Oh no. Bucky wouldn’t … would he? Shit. He totally would. Steve’s eyes flick back to the email.

—can imagine my horror to find that for a monthly fee, subscribers have access to his nude photos. I hadn’t the stomach to look myself, but Ransom assures me it’s all him on the webpage. There are even videos, and Ransom says that James’ face is visible in some of the footage. His face! This is outrageous!

“You’re telling me,” Steve mutters.

Thankfully, the Academy’s structure seems to have put an end to his production. There’s been no new footage uploaded since the week before his enrollment. My lawyers are working on having the account erased, and I can only pray that nothing comes to light publicly before then. Now more than ever, an intervention is required for my grandson. His eligibility for a good marriage will be out the window if word of this pornography spreads, his prospects ruined. I want you to put your full efforts into seeing him matched up with a suitable Alpha as soon as possible. I don’t care who it is, what nationality they are, if it’s a triad, if there’s no notable family name—nothing. All that matters is that you find him a decent mate with no record of mistreatment. Do be thorough in your searching, but do not drag your feet! I’m sure I needn’t explain how damaging this will be to my family, if word gets out. I am counting on you to take expedient action, H. Thrombey

At the bottom of the email is a link. It’s to an OnlyFans page. Steve’s heart rate picks up and he hesitates for a long moment, knowing that he shouldn’t look. Harlan’s lawyers are handling it.

But his morbid curiosity wins out, and he clicks on the link. It leads directly to Bucky’s personal page, and Steve experiences a very unpleasant combination of sensations: his dick filling with blood at the same time that his stomach turns from seeing the images that are on the page’s banners. It’s Bucky’s body, that’s for sure, with his face cleverly turned away or artfully clipped from the shots. Below the title page and summary are links to “Exclusive new hot videos!” with 3 second thumbnails of Bucky’s ass moving, his back arching, his hand moving over his—

Steve looks away from the computer screen, furious and aroused and mortified. “Goddammit, Bucky,” he hisses, angry that the kid has done something so inherently damaging—not just to his reputation like Harlan is thinking, but to himself, to his soul. Steve’s stomach churns something awful at knowing that this stuff is available for any creep with a credit card to purchase … and at his own reaction to even the barest glimpses of it. He peeks up again, this time reading the titles of the videos:

“Hot O-on-O action!”

“Omega dominates Alpha Slut”

“Horny Teen Twink in Heat”

His jaw ticks angrily. What fucking awful, typical titles. He looks down at his cock, which is visibly pressing against the seam of his slacks. “Fuck,” he groans. He can’t jerk off to porn of Bucky. He can’t. It’d be beyond unethical. Even if the kid was his mate, Steve would still feel the moral obligation to—

Oh. Well there’s an idea.

His brain stalls on the thought of him as Bucky’s mate, his Alpha, in charge of him and giving him what he needs … and taking what he wants. Mortifyingly, a growl builds up in his chest as he glances once more at the thumbnails of Bucky doing lurid things. The kid’s got such tight, smooth skin; such a perfect, pretty shape. Steve’s mind slips into editorial mode, imagining what it would be like if Bucky was his, the omega’s ass moving under his hips, his back arching in his bed, his quivering hands smacked away from his cocklet while Steve rails him from behi—

Jesus fucking Christ. Stop!

His hand is halfway to his pocket when he realizes that he’s reaching for his wallet, contemplating buying a subscription just so that he can see. Disgust floods his chest, extinguishing the growl, and he snaps out of it. He pushes away from the desk and stomps over to grab the bottle of Scotch and bring it back, dumping himself back in his desk chair and heedlessly pouring another fill.

And so what? he thinks. Who cares if he finishes the whole fucking bottle? He might as fucking well. His wife, the woman who agreed to be his life partner, who placated him with endless promises of “one day” and then went ice cold and bitter and reneged on everything she’d ever claimed to want with him, is putting him through the wringer just for shits and giggles. And now come to find out, his newest pupil, a boy for whom he’s got way too much personal interest, is selling himself on the internet—For $9.99 a month?!!! The videos seem to cost extra on a pay-per-view basis, but even still, what the ever-loving fuck?!

Steve’s whole body stiffens as something else occurs to him: Harlan’s email said that Bucky’s face is visible in the videos. Bucky’s stepfather reported that to Harlan. Which means he's seen the videos. Which means …

Steve’s jaw ticks as he glances back to the computer screen, to Bucky’s homepage and the free lurid teaser photos that don’t show his face. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he hisses, angry. That Drysdale guy had been a prick during the tour of the campus, and now Steve knows what a fucking pervert he is, too. Because the only way he could know that Bucky’s face is shown is if he bought the subscription and paid extra for the videos.

Steve closes out the browser window, not wanting to see any more of it. The warring disgust and temptation to be one of those creeps who pays money to view omegas degrade themselves is just too much. He yanks his wallet out of his back pocket and chucks it angrily at the couch, missing by a country mile. He takes a gulp of the Scotch, exhaling harshly at the burn as it goes down. “Fuck.”

Pornography for omegas carries a heavy social stigma—far beyond what any beta or alpha porn star would ever face, and deeper in the nature of its contempt and consequence. Omegas who do porn make big bucks, because they’re making an even bigger trade-off. Engaging in any sort of sex work virtually erases an omega's chance of mating. It hadn’t merely been upper crust snobbery in Harlan’s email, but common sense as well. People from all walks of life treat omega sex workers as an untouchable caste, damaged goods, not worthy of real relationships.

It’s one of the few holdovers from the old days, even though porn isn’t what it once was. It’s easier to make than ever. Amateur is in. Omegas who would’ve once been exploited by large production companies now work from home, in control of their own content creation. More and more of them are choosing get rich quick schemes over mating, turning to platforms like OnlyFans and giving away their most sacred gifts to any scum bucket with a credit card. Ruining their lives.

Steve loosens his tie and takes another gulp of liquor before setting the glass down heavily. His hands go resolutely back to his laptop with what he knows he has to do. It sickens him that he even has to do it in the first place. He considers himself a man of morals, a man who lives by his word. But in this one thing, he’s let himself become a hypocrite. He navigates to his internet bookmarks and opens the subfolder marked “Meditations.” It’s his porn stash. Favorite videos he’s saved for lonely nights. Nothing too wild, but virtually all of it involves omegas. Watching A/o porn has been his guilty pleasure for … a while.

He used to avoid it on principle, but these past few years have been different, his desires harder to ignore, the urge to bond, mate, and breed pooling in the back of his brain and the pit of his belly, winding him tight with a tension that he doesn’t like. At first, he’d just chalked it up to being a horny bastard, but that wasn’t it. The unrelenting tension came with a hollow, forlorn ache that refused to go away. Even after a good jerk off session imagining himself in one of those videos, it never went away for long. It’d taken Steve a long time to figure out what that ache really was. For the first time in his life, he felt unfulfilled.

He only hesitates a second before right clicking on the folder and pressing delete, a grim sense of rightness settling over him at the action. He should’ve done it long ago. He shouldn’t have compromised his values in the first place. Of course he’d made all sorts of excuses for it: the porn was amateur, it was self-made, the omegas were getting off and enjoying themselves, he wasn’t paying for it, maybe the Alphas in the videos were actually their mates.

And then of course, the lamest excuse of all: that he deserved to watch it, because his erstwhile wife was ruining everything.

He closes out the browser window and frowns at his reflection on the screen. “Lame,” he mutters. He opens Harlan’s email back up and begins drafting a response, assuring the man that he has nothing to worry about, that Steve will find Bucky a suitable match in no time.

He uses one of the school’s proprietary databases that tracks eligible bachelors, typing in search parameters for sex and nationality (any), net worth (≥ €2,000,000) and age (25-45). Alphas live longer than other designations, so he isn’t worried about being too picky on the age range. Just so long as it isn’t some young sap who doesn’t know what the hell they’re doing. Bucky needs a firm hand and lots of attention. He needs an Alpha who can handle him with gentle dominance, who’ll know when to be indulgent and when to put their foot down.

Steve can’t say why he picks €2m to be the cutoff point for a prospective Alpha’s net worth. Maybe he likes the idea of Bucky being given an easy, comfortable life. And if he sets the search results to list from lowest to highest net worth, well … maybe it’s because he doesn’t like the idea of Bucky being smothered by ludicrous levels of wealth (like Parker’s undoubtedly about to be).

The list of possibilities starts with a landowner in rural Scotland, and ends with an Israeli shipping magnate based out of Cairo. Steve scrolls through the profiles, dismissing anyone he deems unworthy of being Bucky’s mate. Too ugly, too ugly, too fat, too old, too many divorces, too ugly, too ugly. Nobody seems good enough. Steve finds flaws in every profile he sees. And underneath it all, the thought remains: he could be Bucky’s mate.

He shakes his head like he can rattle the idea loose, thinking: don’t be stupid, Rogers. He’s the headmaster here. Taking a student as a mate would be a violation of his professional duties. Not illegal, hell, not even technically against the rules, but certainly embarrassing, perhaps bordering on … unseemly. Parents entrust him with their omega sons to train them up and secure good matches for them, not to mate them himself.

… But Harlan’s email had specifically said that nothing else mattered. Not race, nor gender, nor pedigree. ‘All that matters is that you find him a decent mate with no record of mistreatment’.

All Steve can think about is how that could be him. He could be Bucky’s Alpha. He could take care of him, provide for him, have a family with him. Pieces of an imaginary life layer up in his mind like paper mâché, one on top of the other, slowly congealing into a picture that makes the yearning in his gut that much worse. He imagines Bucky as his omega, living in the Pendergast Street cottage together, a scar on Bucky’s neck; holing up in the house’s nesting closet with him each month, fucking him through his heats, getting him pregnant, watching him give birth and nurse their baby inside a bundle of blankets that have Steve’s scent on them.

He’s always wanted kids. Peggy had, too, or so she said. They’d talked about it infrequently, but they had talked about it. How one day they’d mate an omega and live a blissful family life, have a traditional triad marriage. But that was the problem: they’d only ever talked about it. And on the rare occasion when they had, Steve was always the one to bring the topic up. He hadn’t realized that, hadn’t realized how often Peggy’s only input wound up being an obfuscating ‘one day’.

The day when she finally nutted up and said that she’d changed her mind, that she didn’t want an omega mate in their marriage, didn’t want babies, was the day Steve finally uttered the word that’d been sitting on the back of his tongue for months: “Divorce.”

He still wants to have that intimacy with an omega: bonding them, sharing their heats, getting them pregnant and watching them grow, seeing his child in their arms. He thinks of Bucky in that role, imagines how the boy would take to it, what their first time would be like, if he’d instinctually know to go ass up in the bed or if he’d need to fight it a little, have his alpha toss him around and hold him down before he could accept a knot. If he’d get quiet right before coming, or shriek and thrash and dissolve into agonized tears.

“Fuck,” Steve groans, letting his hand slide over the top of his thigh and into the crease of his groin. He palms himself there, gripping his dick and giving a few short tugs from over the material of his slacks. He looks down and stares at the hard line his boner makes, imagining Bucky being here and seeing it, putting his hand there, how much smaller it’d be than Steve’s, how much less experienced. God, Steve wants to guide him through that, teach him how to touch a man, watch the nervousness and arousal play out on his face as he learns how to please an alpha for the first time.

“Fuck, Honey,” he breathes, thinking about the little noises Bucky would make, the little protests and growls, and the slick that would drip down his thighs and betray him. Steve wonders how the kid touches himself, thinks back to that first day in his office, when he’d asked him how he liked to make himself come. Bucky hadn’t gotten around to answering before he’d lost control of his body, wetting up his underwear in submissive release and going a fascinated shade of red once Steve cooed at him over it.

He’s never had a student release like that before. Not that easily. And he’s just so fucking pretty, even his anger is pretty. Steve grits his teeth at how he can feel his self restraint slipping. He thinks of Harlen’s email: find him a mate, anyone will do. Well if anyone will do, then why the fuck shouldn’t he put himself in the running?

Bucky is low hanging fruit, so fucking ripe for the picking, and Steve just knows he could get him to bend so beautifully with only a little bit of tender care. He could have him happy and content in no time, releasing at the barest show of dominance, just like before. He can still hear that warbling, humiliated whimper that came right after Bucky wet for him, the way his big, confused eyes had looked to Steve for help …

“Goddammit.” He hastily undoes his belt and fly. He shoves his pants and underwear down to free his dick, wrapping a hand around himself and squeezing tightly at the base. His knot is already dark and aching, halfway to being erect after less than a minute of touching himself. He wrings his fist up under the head, forcing the skin over the tip and jacking off with it, guts coiling tighter at the tiny, wet sounds it makes. “Shit, shit, shit.”

He takes his hand off, not wanting to come too fast. He slumps back in the desk chair for a moment, panting, and remembers two things at almost the exact same second: He needs to check the surveillance in Bucky’s room, and he’s got a pocket masturbator in his desk drawer. Well, fuck.

He all but lunges for the drawer, yanking it open and cursing when he sees it. He grabs the toy and holds it to the tip of his cock, moving his hips to push the head through in tiny, teasing little pulses. Oh god, it feels amazing. He pulls it off and reaches for his laptop, opening the school’s surveillance mainframe and navigating to the dormitory views. He clicks on the camera for Bucky’s bedroom and toggles the night vision to on. At first it doesn’t look like much is happening, but then he catches the slight movement of Bucky’s body beneath the blanket … and he moans all over again.

“You little fuck,” he breathes, grabbing the masturbator to slide it all the way over his dick. “Ughn.”

Bucky’s touching himself from underneath the blankets. He’s lying in the same position that Steve left him in, only now his eyes are clenched shut tight and he’s panting open-mouthed into the pillow, his one shoulder angled in such a way as to suggest that he’s got his hand reached behind him. His arm moves in tiny, barely-there pulses. Steve realizes that, unless Bucky’s got the longest fingers known to mankind, he’s using a toy on himself back there.

“Nnh.” He squeezes the silicon sleeve over his cock, dragging it up and down in time with the motions of Bucky’s shoulder, imagining that it’s Bucky he’s feeling around his cock, imagining that Bucky’s feeling him. “Naughty boy,” he grunts through a grin. He knew Bucky would be jerking off once left alone, but this is even better. Steve regrets not watching the feed from the moment he left, as he’d love to know just what the toy looks like, and where Bucky was hiding it. Somewhere in his luggage, obviously. New students are always searched when they arrive, but clearly the boy managed to get something past bag check. Steve almost feels admiration for the sneaky little shit.

He pushes the unmute button and listens to the audio. At first it’s just the quiet rustling of fabric on fabric, the stirring of Bucky’s body against the sheets as he pleasures himself, but then a tiny, breathy moan breaks through, and then another. Steve’s hips flex into his stroking hand. “Oh, Honey.”

Bucky’s face is pinched and he’s biting his lip—probably trying to keep quiet. The notion makes Steve smirk. Omegas are very vocal in their sexual pleasure, prone to keening and squealing and making all sorts of warbling, debased noises when they’re feeling good. It must be the most exquisite torture for Bucky to try and stay silent like this as he fucks himself on whatever toy he’s managed to sneak in. Steve watches it with a tightening belly and aching balls, twisting the rubber sleeve over himself again and again, bumping down hard against his knot on every stroke. “Fffuck.”

In the frame, Bucky’s voice catches on a single, high pitched noise as he comes, his body going rigid under the sheets and his hips pulsing harder than before. He whimpers and turns his face further into the pillow to muffle it, but Steve is already right there too, jerking himself hard and fast with the sleeve until he shouts and starts to shoot. His knot blows inside of the rubber, which isn’t as good as the real thing, but still feels fucking amazing. He keeps his dick fully buried and squeezes the toy hard over his knot, milking himself until his hand cramps and he lets go. The toy pops off his cock and falls to the floor, and Steve goes boneless in his chair as he shivers through the long wave of his orgasm.

When it’s finally over and he looks back at the computer screen, it’s to see Bucky carefully rearranging himself under the blankets. Whatever it was that he’d used to fuck himself, he seems to be keeping it hidden between the mattress and the room’s wall. Steve plays idly with his knot while he waits for it to go down, deciding that the kid gloves need to come off now. It’s time Bucky learned just what it means to be taken in hand by an Alpha. And with the development of the online porn and Harlan’s request, there’s no longer need or time to play things slow and easy.

Tomorrow, Steve’ll finally do what he should’ve done from the get-go, what he’s been wanting to do ever since Bucky trounced into his office with a bad attitude and false bravado. From here on out, he’s going to take proper care of that boy. Starting tomorrow, he’s going to handle Bucky’s education himself. And if things progress from there? Well, Harlan said anyone will do.

Story Masterlist

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