#days chapter 217 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

typicalopposite · 2 months

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𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙸 𝚃𝚛𝚢 𝚃𝚘 𝙵𝚕𝚢 (𝙸 𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚕)

BuckTommy Fic | M | Chapter 4/7 | 6263 words

Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | ao3

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛: 𝙸'𝚖 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢 (𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍)

PLEASE READ TAGS FOR TRIGGER WARNINGS

Buck has sat in the same seat— tucked away in the farthest corner of the ICU lobby— for so long he has lost track of time. He finally thinks to check his watch. It’s late. Really late… So late, it’s technically early. He hasn’t slept, or eaten, or scrolled through his phone. Just sat and stared off into space… torturing himself with the repeating visions and words that have been haunting him, honestly since Gerard first mentioned Jay.

The 118 has long since had to leave. Most of them have shifts tomorrow. Buck has a shift tomorrow, but Bobby told him he’d better not see him in that station, regardless. “You can leave here, but the only place you’d better go is back to your apartment,” he’d said.

Bobby likely knew, even if Buck wanted to leave—even if the 217 all rallied together to collectively force him to leave—he would never actually walk out of that hospital until he knew for certain Tommy was going to be okay; or at least until he woke up. The likelihood of either feels slimmer with each passing hour. Most of the 217 have also left, having to go get ready for their own shift, or to get sleep for one the next day. Buck is eventually left alone with Lucy, Morris and Sal; which one of the three depends on whoever is not in the room with Tommy.

Right now, it’s Sal, and the two have been very clearly trying to avoid each other's eye since he came out of Tommy's room and sat down on the opposite side of the lobby. Buck picks at some skin around his nails, careful to not pick too much lest he ends up doing more damage to his hands; he’d love to not have to deal with Mama Hen on that when she eventually ends up back at the hospital (likely to check on him, as much as Tommy). He makes himself stop and goes back to strumming his fingers on his knees, and looking at the TV so it appears he’s watching it.

There’s a deep sigh, coming from suspiciously close to where Sal is sitting. Then out of Buck’s peripherals he sees Sal stand up and start towards him. Great… Buck thinks, and has half a mind to get up and leave. Not because he thinks Sal is coming to put more blame on him; if anything Sal has taken up for him against people on the 217 who have tried to attack him. It’s just—and maybe this is a little selfish… a little childish—the last kiss Tommy had, might ever have, was with Sal. Buck still isn’t sure how he feels about that… He knows he has no right to feel anything about it. But he does. Regardless of hearing from everyone (and probably about to hear it from Sal as well) that he is straight and the kiss was his impulsive attempt to help fix Buck and Tommy’s problems.

“Heya Ev— er Buck… it’s Buck right?” Buck lifts his eyes to meet Sal’s… The man looks as exhausted as Buck feels. “You mind?” Sal asks, gesturing to the empty seat beside him. He’s not a hundred percent sure he doesn’t mind; but he shifts over and shakes his head anyway. Sal sits down and for a moment Buck thinks they’re just going to sit in silence. Perhaps he just didn’t want to sit alone. Buck can relate… but he deserves to be alone, Sal doesn't. “So— uh— what’cha watchin’?”

Buck looks back at the TV; it’s some game show. “Family feud… I think.”

“Ahh… that’s cool. Cool, cool, cool…” Sal nods, and shifts in the seat awkwardly. This is all so awkward. Buck wishes he would just spit out what he’s come to say, before they both get an ulcer from the anticipation. “Listen… I uh— I want to apologize…”

“Sal, you don’t—”

“No. I really do,” Sal says firmly. He turns to look at Buck and his eyes are puffy and red; Buck is kind of jealous he’s actually been able to cry about the whole situation… Meanwhile he feels ready to explode from withholding his emotions. He swallows around the lump in his throat and waits for Sal to continue. “I just— I wanted to help him out, ya know. He’s my best friend… and I don’t think I have ever seen him so happy, as he was with you… or— or as broken up as he was without. You— you meant the world to him… ” Sal stiffens his jaw. “S- sorry— it wasn’t my place, I know. I just wanted to help, and I only fucked it up worse.”

There’s a part of Buck that wants to take him up on the blame. He could just hand it over and let Sal shoulder it, at least for a while. He could lash out like so many have on him. He can’t stop the weak laugh before it bubbles up and comes out. “It’s not your fault, Sal.” Buck says. “Sure, maybe the kiss hurt to see… but I deserved the wake up call of thinking I’d lost him to someone else. Someone way better.”

That pulls a laugh out of Sal. He loosens up a little and runs a hand roughly over his face. “Thanks for the flattery, kid… but— uh, I’m not exactly an upgrade. Hell, I don’t even know why he’s kept me around . I mean… I was right there with the people who kept him trapped in the closet for so long.” He sighs and glances over guiltily at Buck. “Even when I started to have suspicions, I didn’t let up on how I acted. Hell, maybe I was even worse… because— because I made myself believe that since he was doing it too—making the jokes, using the names— the slurs—that even if he was, he must be cool with it. I knew deep down that was bullshit, but I just couldn’t bring myself to bring it up. I guess I was scared things would change— he would change. Doesn’t make it any better… didn’t make it any less a slap to the face when I realized he never was comfortable enough to tell me.”

“He never told you?”

Sal shook his head. “We hadn't spoken much after Bobby transferred me out of the 118, and I just happened upon him one night on a date…” he says. “Worst part… I knew it was a date. I saw how they looked at each other; definitely not how you look at just a friend… and I still made it seem like I thought they were just… out for a beer. Brought up the last girl he’d said he was dating back before Bobby had me transferred. I watched how awkward it made the poor guy he was there with… and a selfish part of me still hoped he’d go along with it.”

“Did— did he,” Buck asks. He feels like there’s a knife in his chest twisting a hole into his heart at the similarity to his first date with Tommy. He feels sick.

“No. He excused himself from the table and asked to speak to me alone. He told me he was on a date, and then he made it very clear that if I wasn’t okay with that, he’d understand… and that he wouldn’t preach to me about acceptance just to keep me around. If I couldn’t accept him, then it was nice knowing me.” Sal laughs. “And all I could think was, same old Tommy; doesn’t sugar coat anything.”

“But you did… accept him, you two got close again.”

“We did. It was a little different at first, but I had grown a lot since working under Gerard… and even more after Bobby put me in my place. It wasn’t long and it was just like old times— minus, you know… all the racist, sexist, bullshit stuff. It was better even.” Sal smiles, “He’s a great guy, a great friend… he didn’t mean for this to hurt you, Buck.”

“He didn’t hurt me… I hurt him!” Buck says, and Sal gives him a sympathetic look. “I— I was just so sure there were no secrets between us…” Buck continues. “I thought that even though he hadn’t told me much about his past… it was just because there wasn’t much to tell. Then Gerard— and I couldn’t stop thinking about it… and it turns out it wasn’t even anything he’d done wrong… I just kept telling myself it was… until I believed it. I’m so stupid—”

“You’re not stupid Buck,” Sal says; Buck scoffs. “Tommy understands why you were curious. He isn’t mad that you went looking for answers and he regrets not telling you when you first asked. There is just— There’s so much to that story… So much more than just some old articles… It was a really hard time for him… and he had to go through most of it alone…” Sal looks towards Tommy’s room and sighs. “Now— god, now we’re here, and it’s like time is repeating itself. He wouldn’t want you to be going through this alone…”

Buck deflates. He deserves to be alone—he knows Sal won’t want to hear any of that, though. He just doesn’t respond, and Sal doesn’t say anything else; the lobby falls back into mostly silence, save for the beeping coming from patients' rooms.

Tommy’s door opens and Morris walks out. He looks over to where Sal and Buck are sitting, his brows pulling together in confusion (surely as to why Sal is sitting with the enemy). Sal sighs, gives Buck an apologetic look, and pushes to his feet, walking over to Morris. They talk for a while, low enough that Buck can’t hear them. Morris gives Buck one final glare, then leaves.

Sal watches after him until he’s inside the elevator, before he goes into Tommy’s room, and Buck is once again alone. It’s only a short while, though, before Sal comes back out and Lucy is with him. Her arms are crossed tight over her chest; she looks tired, and she seems to have just stopped crying. Sal stalls by Tommy’s door, but Lucy crosses the room towards Buck; again he braces himself, this time it is for an attack.

“Hey— um, do you think you can… sit with him,” she asks, nodding her head back towards the room.

Logically Buck knows who she means, he still replies, “With Sal?”, anyway.

“No…” Lucy says, rolling her eyes. “With— with Tommy. I don’t want him to be in there alone… in— in case he…” Her lip begins to tremble. And she quickly covers her mouth.

“In case he wakes up,” Sal says, speed walking over to wrap an arm around Lucy’s back. “Just in case he wakes up.” He says it more so like he’s trying to make her believe it; possibly make himself believe it. “We won’t be long, just taking her home to finally get changed out of this uniform.”

“Mrs. K should be here soon, anyway…” Lucy adds. Buck wonders if she still believes he doesn’t truly want to be there.

Buck looks towards Tommy’s room; he couldn’t even look through the door as he passed to get across the lobby to his seat… How is he going to sit in there? He could say no. Hell, maybe he should say no… He’s nothing but a bad omen, and they are just going to prop him up like a cursed object next to his latest victim? “O- okay…” he says anyway, breaking his eyes away from them, and pushing up from the chair he has been glued to for the past— he doesn’t even know how long.

Lucy actually smiles at him; nothing too friendly, more so of appreciation. Sal reaches out and squeezes his shoulder. Then they are gone.

And he is once again alone.

Except—

Except he’s walking towards Tommy’s room and, in a way, in there he won’t be alone, will he? He stops just shy of the door, looks around at the nurses sitting in their stations. (Gotta keep it together, Buckley… gotta suck it up and just do this. You owe him that much.) He grabs the door handle, and pushes it in, preemptively biting the insides of his jaws as he steps inside.

The lights are dimmed, probably to help the headaches he’s sure everyone who has been in the claustrophobia-inducing room, sitting in the little uncomfortable chairs have gotten throughout the day. There’s a concoction of scents floating around the air. They mix together putridly; they smell like death. Buck wonders if it’s because the reaper himself is lingering unseen in the room… just waiting for the perfect time.

He pointedly avoids the bed; he can’t look there, not yet.

The room’s small so he doesn’t have much else to look at. Loud machines that are keeping Tommy alive. A patient’s board with the nurses and doctors names that are keeping Tommy alive… A TV Tommy can’t use; a window Tommy can look out; a table Tommy can’t eat the terrible hospital food at. A chair next to Tommy’s bed… Buck chooses the one further away (and pulls it even further into the corner of the room) but when he turns around to sit down he does catch a glimpse of Tommy.

Maybe he meant to.

Maybe it was just another subconscious way he could hurt himself for hurting Tommy.

And boy, does what he sees hurt…

He thinks of all the horror he has seen since becoming a firefighter. He thinks of the people he’s lost. The lives that he wasn’t able to save. How he dwells on each of them for a little while, and then tucks them away, because that’s the job. Par for the course, just like he told Gerard. He knows he’s done all he could do. It wasn’t always that easy of course but he learned how to manage the guilt… he wouldn’t have lasted this long if he hadn’t.

But some losses are more… personal. Did Kinard tell you about his?

Buck thinks of his personal losses—or rather his personal near losses, because in reality he hasn’t lost anyone close to him… yet.

He nearly lost Maddie. That was terrifying. Then Eddie got shot… another close call that worked out in the end. Then just so recently with Bobby…

But this—this—is different. This is Tommy. Big, strong, brave Tommy. Sweet, kind, loving Tommy. Even if his face is so swollen and discolored it looks nothing like him. There's so many wires, and so much of him is wrapped up in bandages or cast. He tries to break his eyes away— he needs to break his eyes away. He can barely even see him from the tears welling up.

What have I done…

He thinks of the last thing he said to Tommy. I’ll see you around. So sarcastically played on the end to their disastrous first date…

He thinks of what Tommy said just before he left. How he apologized. As if he had even done anything wrong… When it was Buck who let Gerrard get in his head. Buck, who went digging into Tommy’s past after everyone told him not to. Buck, who took what he found and used it as a weapon against Tommy in an attempt to get some kind of validation for his fragile and damaged feelings.

And Tommy still apologized. He even offered—begged really—to tell him everything. He was willing to rip open a wound he had spent years closing for Buck to just leave him standing on the sidewalk anyway.

Tommy loved Buck like he was the center of his universe, like he could hardly go a moment without him… They were truly the greatest love story Buck could have ever thought up for himself… and look at what Buck did.

Lucy was right… he doesn’t deserve Tommy.

I’ll tell you everything… Baby, I can’t live like this— without you. -September 19

I would have actually cared about making it back in one piece… or making it back at all. -September 28

I wish I had been enough of a reason for you… -August 8, 2010

Man jumps from bridge into LA Harbor late Tuesday afternoon. -August 15, 2010

My forever <3

He blinks back the tears and walks towards the door— runs, actually. He needs air, and suddenly there is none left in the room. He steps outside and gasps, sucking in sharp breaths and shakily blowing them back out. The nurses look up from their station, and he attempts a smile. He doesn’t really care that it’s definitely not convincing.

He should leave. Why is he even here? There is a chance Tommy isn’t going to wake up—the thought digs into his chest, sharp and jagged, causing it to seize up and ache—and even if he does… Buck is not the person he needs to see.

He can’t leave though. The elevator is just to his left, and he walks over to the coffee bar instead. His hands are vibrating as he pours himself a cup and brings it to his mouth.

“Evan?” A soft voice says behind him; startling him enough he spills some of the hot liquid down his chin, hissing from the burn. Buck turns around and is met with a warm smile—much too warm, given who it’s aimed at—and kind, tired, red rimmed eyes. Tommy’s mom takes a step towards him, reaching out for his hands which she grips tightly, using them to pull him down into a strong hug. “Oh, how I wish this wasn’t how we finally met,” she says swaying him back and forth; all he can do is cling to her body and try to hold himself together. She hooks an arm around Bucks when she finally lets him go and looks towards Tommy’s room. “Have we heard anything new?”

Buck tries to find his voice; apparently he left it in the room with Tommy… Good thing—actually, it’s definitely not a good thing—she is leading him right back in there. She stops just before the door when he still hasn’t answered, looks up at him with so much concern it takes the breath, he’d finally got back, away.

“Oh, sweetpea,” she says, reaching up to cup his face. “Look at me… coming in here and bombarding you like this. You're probably exhausted and I’m asking you questions.” Buck stares down at her like she can’t possibly be real. He has passed out from lack of sleep, and dreamed up this little saint of a woman who just happens to look like Tommy’s mom. There’s just no way she’s being this way with him after—well, after everything!

“I- I- I’m— I’m fine,” he finally manages, reaching up to take her hand and squeeze it for reassurance. She gives him a look— Tommy’s look. That little head tilt, with questioning eyes. Buck laughs before he can stop himself. “I promise, I am.” He’s not. He’s really not, but he’ll be damned if this woman is going to come to see her son, who is fighting for his life, and in turn have to comfort his undeserving, fully responsible, asshole of an ex.

He wonders if she even knows they broke up…

Mrs. K—a name given to her back when Tommy was in school, that has stuck through everyone he introduces to her now—gives him another warm smile, then looks through the door at Tommy. She is quiet as she lets go of Buck and walks past him into the room. “Oh…” she says quietly, sitting down in the seat next to him. She takes his hand, and holds it as best as she can around the wires and tubes and bandages.

She sucks in a sharp breath and Buck can see her shoulders start to shake. He steps into the room—maybe it’s a stupid idea for him to be comforting, but he can’t let her sit in there and grieve alone—and touches her shoulder. She startles and looks up at him. “Sorry,” he says quietly.

“Oh, you’re such a sweet boy,” Mrs. K says, taking Buck's hand and patting it. She looks back at Tommy and strokes the back of her hand over his check. “My baby… I’m here,” she whispers and Buck gets a sudden (sickening) feeling… What if he was just waiting for her.

There’s a knock on the opened door; It’s Lucy and Sal. “Hi, Mrs. K…” Lucy says, already misty eyed again. She looks from Tommy’s mom to Buck, and for a second looks confused—probably wonders why he’s still there, especially still in the room, if he no longer needs to be.

Mrs. K reaches her free hand out to her and Lucy hurries over to grab it, bringing it up to her lips before wrapping her arms around the older woman. “There are so many people here for you, Tommy,” she says, laying her hand against Lucy’s cheek. “Lulu, and Sal… and of course—” Buck fully planned on stopping her from mentioning him, but Tommy’s doctor comes to the room first.

“Dr. Murillo,” the woman introduces herself as, shaking everyone’s hands and offering a friendly enough smile once they are all out of the room. Mrs. K thanks her for taking such good care of her boy, and Dr. Murillo asks if she’s been filled in on his condition.

Mrs. K sighs, “I know he was in an accident… that he fell pretty far.” Buck feels sick listening to her retell the story he has had to tell multiple times. He tries to excuse himself—there’s no need for him here.. Mrs. K lays her hand on his arm, giving the slightest squeeze. He doesn’t miss the flash of confusion that crosses Lucy’s face again.

Dr. Murillo nods before going over the extent of his injuries, and Buck feels even worse rehearing that. But more so he hates watching Mrs. K having to hear it. The entire time, however, she remains calm, put together… She’s so strong; Buck sees where Tommy gets it from. “Something you need to consider is the… possible… next steps. If he makes it through—”

Mrs. K puts her hand up, abruptly stopping the doctor’s speech. “With all due respect, doctor… I do understand the severity of this situation… but my Tommy is a fighter. He’s going to make it through this night— and every night— until he wakes up.” Buck feels himself nodding along to her statement. She’s right. Tommy’s so strong. He’s been through so much. He has to be okay. “So instead of if, how about we say when…”

Dr. Murillo opens her mouth, then closes it back and blinks a few times. She looks into the room at Tommy and sighs, then offers a faint smile. “Okay. When Mr. Kinard wakes up, you need to prepare yourself for what recovery will most likely look like. He is going to need extensive physical therapy, nerve therapy… It's very common for patients who come out of comas after severe accidents to need psychological therapy as well. He will have to work towards walking again, and that is no guarantee...”

Buck's brain goes fuzzy at the mention of places to contact for wheelchairs. She says she will give Mrs. K some information once they know what style he might need—they have to wait to see his range of motion— and that he will likely need home health care, if he lives in a two story house he might need to move. Lucy informs her he doesn’t, his house is plenty big enough for a wheelchair, a hospital bed, whatever he needs.

“So— so you’re saying he’s gonna be paralyzed?” Buck blurts out. Dr. Murillo looks from Mrs. K to Lucy and Sal, to him.

She furrows her brows in confusion. “I’m sorry… and who are you to Mr. Kinard?”, she asks… which makes sense—seeing as he has stayed tucked away as far from Tommy’s room as he could possibly be—she wouldn’t recognize him.

For a split second he almost says his boyfriend before he remembers he no longer has that title. He sputters trying to think of what exactly to call himself, and Mrs. K’s hold on his arm tightens. “Is that what you’re saying, Doctor?” she asks.

Dr. Murillo sighs. “We won’t know fully until he wakes up. However, there is swelling and damage to his spinal cord; so yes, it is a possibility.”

Mrs. K gives the doctor a small nod, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Thank you,” she says, and the doctor shakes all their hands again before walking off.

“Would you like some coffee, Mrs. K?” Lucy asks, wrapping an arm around the older woman’s shoulders.

“Oh that would be nice, sweetie,” Mrs. K smiles and reaches up to pay Lucy’s face. “Thank you.” She gives Buck’s arm one final squeeze before letting herself be led across the lobby to the coffee bar, Sal giving him a sympathetic look before following behind them.

As soon as Buck is left alone in the hallway, he hurries off in the direction Dr. Murrillo went. “Hey— umm, doc,” he says once he catches up to her. “A- About what you said back there… that’s just— that's the worst case scenario right? That he’ll be paralyzed…” Buck pointedly ignores the deep sigh his question pulls from the doctor, barreling straight into his next. “What— what’s the best case scenario?”

She turns to fully face him, in her hands is Tommy’s chart and she grips it a little tighter. “Sir,” she says, her voice stern but not entirely harsh. “Mr. Kinard fell almost 30 feet, landing directly on his back. The fact he survived that at all is a miracle.” Buck takes in her words, swallows them down to be with the other thoughts and emotions he is trying to ignore. “I’m not sure of his and your relationship, but you are clearly having trouble allowing yourself to accept the severity of this situation. You have to understand this is not something he will just bounce back from. Best case scenario is going to be that he wakes up at all.”

Buck takes that in and tries to swallow it down, but it’s just too big. He can feel tears rushing to his eyes and he thanks the doctor so he can turn away and try to stop them. The walk back down the hall to the ICU lobby feels like it takes forever. Definitely long enough to repeat the doctor's words over and over in his head. The fact that he survived… is a miracle. This is not something he is just going to bounce back from… best case scenario is… he wakes up at all. Buck feels sick. He bypasses the lobby and gets in the elevator, pushing the button for the ground floor.

He doesn’t have his Jeep… so he calls Bobby.

“Hey kid,” Bobby says in that soft fatherly voice Buck thinks he desperately needs right now… but definitely doesn’t deserve. “You okay?”

Buck climbed into the passenger seat, already prepared to lie and say yes. His breath hitches before he can draw in enough air to speak. He tries to stop it but the sob rushing out of him too quickly. He digs the pads of his hands into his eyes to stop the tears but they are coming too fast, too strong. An arm wraps around his shoulder, and pulls him into as good a hug as possible over the center console.

“I know, Buck… I know. Let it out, kid,” Bobby says and any resemblance of hold Buck has on this situation and his emotions crumbles. He sucks in another shaky breath and just lets it all go. Through sobs, and gasping for air, he tells Bobby about the grim outlook the doctor has, and tells him Tommy might be paralyzed. Bobby listens with a look of understanding and sympathy, as he keeps one hand firmly gripping Buck’s shoulder. When he’s done Bobby reaches in the back seat and grabs a bag of food. “Eat something or I’ll drag you back in there to have a feeding tube inserted.”

Buck feels his lips twitch into a smile, and opens the bag. It’s just a sandwich, but to be fair Bobby’s sandwiches are next level, top tier… he has it eaten within a few minutes. (Could have something to do with him not even knowing when the last time he ate was… too.)

It turns out the rangers didn’t keep his Jeep, and instead returned it to the station, as he had taken off into the forest without taking his keys. Bobby pulls into the parking lot of the 118 and parks beside the Jeep, before pulling the keys out of his pocket. “Aht,” he says before letting Buck take them. “What are you going to do once you get these?” Buck thinks on it… he was honestly just planning to drive home and wallow in self pity until he withered away.

“Go home?”

“Go home to sleep,” Bobby corrects. “Then what?”

“I— I’m guessing you still won’t let me come back to work.” Bobby smirks, arching one brow. “Yeah I didn’t think so… I don’t know…”

“Have you talked to Tommy yet?”

Buck furrows his brows, unsure if he’d heard Bobby right. “Cap he— he’s…”

“He’s what? You talked to me, didn’t you? We all talked to you; hell you even admitted you could hear us.” Buck sighs, Bobby smiles. “I told you, you needed to talk to him and straighten all this out before you came back and I still mean that. Buck, this is— it’s serious, okay? You need to make some sort of peace with all this—with him—in case you— you don’t get another chance to.” He drops Buck’s keys into his hand, grabs his shoulder and squeezes.

“Thanks Cap…”

~~~

Buck walks into the hospital.

Bobby’s gonna be pissed if he finds out he didn’t go home first. He meant to go home first. He is exhausted and still dirty (a bathroom sink with multiple people watching him to make sure he didn’t go crazy with the scrubbing again can only do so much). He pulled out of the station and just ended up back at the hospital.

He returns to his corner chair; perhaps he can get a little sleep here. His eyes fall closed, he’s not sure for how long, then suddenly he feels warm. He feels his head being lifted from the wall, feels it being laid back down onto a crinkly pillow. He opens his eyes and sees Mrs. K. She clicks her tongue and smiles. “I really thought I could get you set up without waking you.”

Buck blinks and looks down at himself. A blanket—one of the warmed ones the hospital offers—is draped over him, and a pillow is between his head and the wall. “You didn’t have to—”

“Oh hush with that, of course I did!” She sits down next to him and pats his leg. “You have been here all this time and I bet you haven’t got a lick of sleep.” Buck can feel eyes burrowing into him, and when he glances up at the lobby some of the 217 have returned; Morris has returned. He is glaring at Buck. “Colin,” Mrs. K says, and Morris’ eyes break from Buck to her.

“Yes— uh, yes ma’am…”

“If there’s something you feel the need to say, please just say it, and stop wearing it across your face…” she says, bluntly. Buck is stunned, Morris is stunned, and the other firefighters… look like they might laugh. She turns her eyes to them and they all go quiet, before just sitting back down. She turns her attention back to Buck. “Alright, sweet pea, what’s all this—” she gestures wildly around his body. “—about?”

“I don’t— I don’t deserve this…” Buck whispers. Mrs. K looks at him confused, and something inside him finally gives. “I don’t understand why— how you can be so welcoming to me after I…” He takes a deep breath and looks towards Tommy’s room. “I hurt him so bad…” he says. “How can you even look at me when I’m the reason we’re sitting here now.”

“Did you cause the helicopter to crash?”

“What— no… but I—” I might as well have…

“You what? You broke up with him? You went digging and found out about Jay?”

He feels his eyes widen. “You— you knew about that?”

She smirks, actually smirks, squeezing Buck's hand. “Oh honey… Tommy tells me everything. He was ringing me before he even got back to his car. Saying he’d messed up, he blew it…”

Buck takes a breath, it catches in his throat and he knows he’s going to start crying. He frantically tries to blink back the tears and shakes his head. “He didn’t— it wasn’t his fault?! I messed up. I— I invaded his privacy,” he gasps. “I hacked his account. I threw it all in his face even after I saw how upset it made him the first time… everyone tried to warn me not to go digging for a reason to be angry, just like everyone told me he was spiraling… and I didn’t— I completely deserve all the hate I’m getting, I know that. I am the one who blew it…” He pulls the blanket off of him, and sets it in an open chair. “I shouldn’t even be here… he— he doesn’t need me here. I’m only making it worse being here… you’re here now… that’s what he needs, what he was waiting for.”

Mrs. K stares at him for a while before sighing. She shifts in the seat to face Buck. “Sweetie, I know how difficult this all is for you… the guilt you’re putting on yourself… I watched Tommy do the same thing when—” she pauses, takes a breath. “He needs you here… to know you’re here,” she says, voice suddenly heavy, and trembling like she might cry. “He is not holding on for me…” she says softly, giving him a smile. “Or anyone else. He is holding on for you... He loves you so much, and he would never forgive himself in this life or the next if he put you through the heartache he had to endure.” She stares up at Buck, tears filling her tired eyes. “You don’t believe me?”

“Oh, it’s— it’s not that…”

Mrs. K sniffles and wipes the falling tear off her cheek. “Then, get up,” she says, standingss as, and tugging Buck up by his hand.

“Wha— uh, what are we—”

“Come on.”

Buck follows behind Mrs. K, who still has a firm grip on his hand, across the lobby to Tommy’s room. She lets him go at the door and walks into the room. Lucy looks up from her phone, Mrs. K asks if they can have a moment. Buck dips his head to avoid seeing the surprise look that causes. Once Lucy leaves Mrs. K beckons Buck over to Tommy’s side. Seeing him this close is hard. He’s so discolored and swollen.

“Sit down,” she instructs, and Buck does. She lifts one of Tommy’s hands, and reaches for one of Buck’s, gently laying Tommy’s in it.

“I don’t—”

“You shush, and you’ll see…” she says, offering him a smile before running her fingers through Tommy’s hair. “Hey baby, you know who’s here?” Buck makes a strangled noise, about to protest, and gets Mrs. K’s finger over his lips. “It’s Evan…”

Tommy squeezes.

Buck gasps, and looks at their hands. Just like in the forest, Tommy’s hand is closed tight around his, then releases. “T- Tommy…” he says, and the hand tightens again. “Oh my god… your— you can—” Buck can feel tears pooling in his eyes. Tommy squeezes his hand again and they topple over. “I can’t believe it—” he cries.

“I’ll give you a bit,” Mrs. K says, laying her hand on Buck’s shoulder.

“Um… H- Hi…Hey— hey Tommy,” he starts, smiling when he feels the squeeze like a response. “I— um…” He runs his thumb over Tommy’s hand. He has half a mind to lace their fingers together… he doesn’t. “I don’t even know where to start. Sorry doesn’t cut it… you deserve so much more than that. I was wrong, I was cruel… I hurt you, and for what? To be right? To prove you were like the others… that you weren’t this amazing, wonderful, beautiful person… who only ever loved me, for me. You were the first person who loved me like I was enough…” Buck’s lip trembles, his tears fall, he lets them. They drop down and land on Tommy’s hand. It squeezes. “I don’t deserve you, I know that… and I will spend the rest of my life regretting what I did. But— But I need you to be here, so I can spend that time making it up to you, okay? And— and I will… Tommy. I will spend everyday making it up to you… forever.”

Tommy’s hand squeezes. He takes in a deep breath, and lets out a gagged noise around his breathing tube. Buck looks up, bracing himself for the worst… what if it was him Tommy was waiting for… because wouldn’t that just be his luck if the reaper in the room used his apology as an opening to swoop in and take him. What he is met with is Tommy’s eye—the good one (i.e not the swollen one)—open and looking at him.

~~~~~~~

And for the tags <3

@bucksxkinard @30somethingautisticteacher @do-androids-dream-ao3acc @girlwonder-writes @sira1420 @kinkley-are-adorkable-flirts @somethingaboutfirefly @ilikethe-internet @itsametaphorok <3

(if you'd like to be added to the tag list just let me know 😊)

#911 abc #bucktommy #bucktommy fic #evan buckley #tommy kinard #sal deluca #lucy donato #original characters #Tommy Kinard's mom #Tw major character injury #tw depressing stuff #angst angst angst #there will be a happy ending tho... I promise

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shiro-s2e2-erukinzu · 2 months

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THIS CHAPTER WAS SOOO GOOD, I LOVED IT!! 😆 Here are some of my favorite parts because I honestly loved the entire chapter!!:

[UNDEAD UNLUCK CH. 217 SPOILERS FROM THIS POINT ON, SO BE CAREFUL!]

Sean's question for Fuuko...!! 😲:

Sean makes a really good point here, but to Fuuko, this isn't the right time to use Remember yet...! And honestly, I really like that this was brought up...!! 👍

This part!! 😭:

Seeing what Tatiana says here and seeing how sad she is just BREAKS MY HEART!!! 😭 But in other news, Fuuko looks SUPER ADORABLE right here!! 😆:

Sean's plea...!! 😢:

I love this moment of Sean trying but failing to stop Fuuko, it super well executed!! 👏

THESE THREE PAGES!! 👏👏👏:

Okay first off, can we appreciate just how BADASS Fuuko continues to be by willing to stand right in front of Tatiana's Untouchable barrier and letting herself get hurt!! 😆 My jaw actually DROPPED seeing her face bleeding and even got teary eyed atl Fuuko calling Tatiana her best friend...!! 🥹 And Secondly... AN ANDY APPEARANCE!!! (Even though it's just an image of him and not the real him) 👏😭 I miss him so much, but I'm glad that Tozuka still remembers how to draw him at least...! 👌😌

What Tatiana's new sphere can do!! 🤩:

For a while now, I've been trying to figure out how exactly was Tatiana gonna be able to wear clothes when Untouchable gets actived... There were so many possible outcomes, I especially loved the idea that other people were throwing around of Clothy coming back this loop to be Tatiana's clothes, but I never expected Tozuka to go down the holographic clothes route...!! 😄 I honestly really dig it!! 👌😁

THE LAST PAGE!! 😆:

The last page of the chapter is super sweet and also really funny (especially Chikara lookin' like he's been awake for several days after using Unmove for so long...!! 👏🤣) It was a nice way to cap off the chapter and probably this arc!! 😄

And those were some of my favorite parts in this chapter, even though I loved the entirety of Chapter 217!! 😆 This chapter is definitely a new favorite of mine in the series and I can't wait to what happens next in 12 days of when I post this!! 😁 I'll see you all in the next one fellas...!! BUH-BYE!! 👋😄

#undead unluck #udul #uu #undead + unluck #undeadunluck #UDUL Ch. 217 #fuuko izumo #uu tatiana #sean datz #chikara shigeno #gina chamber #billy alfred #julia u stitia #undead unluck spoilers #uu spoilers #udul spoilers

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still-a-morosexual-help · 1 year

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Shut up I literally wrote this fic😭 (or rather it's detailed outline for the fake fic title game)

At some point Mammon realises he's in love with the human, deeply so, and he's pretty sure the human actually loves him back, and that's a crazy thought isn't it. Eventually of course Mammon decided he loves the human too much to keep lying to them and he needs to tell them what he actually is. So he spends the day pampering them. After, he sits them down and after a lot of stuttering, yelling to himself, dragging his hands through his hair while they sit patiently on their couch, he slumps down next to them and looking at the floor says, "I'm a demon." When he doesn't get a reply he looks up at them. Their face is blank and they blink slowly. "Mammon," they say gently, "we've been together for 217 years."

-> Chapter 3: Sugar Baby

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greenhorn-art · 7 months

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to catch a sunbeam with white moonlight

Author: orphan_account [this work has been orphaned and is no longer associated with it's author]

Fandom: 全职高手 | The King's Avatar

Rating: General Audiences

Category: F/M, Gen, M/M

Words: 55,720

At a Glory convention, Dai Yanqi meets Ye Xiu who is helping Su Mucheng buy her favorite doujinshi. They surprisingly hit it off as they browse through all the doujinshi about their peers and talk about Glory.

About the book

FONTS: EB Garamond (body text, title), Roboto (body text - electronic), Bebas Neue (title, headings), Alfie (title), Segoe UI Symbol (scene breaks - 'gear without hub')

IMAGES: Sunflower (Rawpixel, ID: 2687359), lightning (Rawpixel, ID:10200699)

MATERIALS: Domtar Earthchoice (textblock - 20lb, cream, 11x17 cut down to 8.5x11), Recollections paper pad (endpapers - Dark Watercolor Florals), Iris bookcloth (covers - Eggplant), Verona bookcloth (covers - Hot Toffee), Ribbon (covers - 1/4", shell grey), embroidery floss (endbands - 209 Very Dark Lavender), leather cording (endbands - 1.4mm), Ceramcoat acrylic paint (painted edges - metallic silver), Anita's acrylic paint (painted edges - 11038 Purple), Reeves acrylic paint (painted edges - Violet & Crimson & Blue Lake, Payne's Gray), waxed linen thread (sewing textblock - 30/3, white), Books by Hand (glue - pH neutral PVA)

PROGRAMS USED: Affinity Publisher (typesetting), Affinity Designer and Affinity Photo, LibreOffice Writer (QR codes), Bookbinder-JS (PDF imposer)

BINDING STYLE: Split-board binding, French double-core endbands

(Belated) Binderary Book 2024

My first year participating in Binderary and I'm 2/2 with my goals, albeit slightly late (even with the added leap day).

Goal No. 1: Bind a book!

This fic is an orphaned work, with no author available for me to reach out to. Convenient, since it was a last-minute decision.

Goal No. 2: Finish typesetting the fic that got me into this whole bookbinding/fanbinding hobby!

Bad Boys JEDI Style is a 217 chapter, 908k word "comedy of errors: in which our heroes are recruited to film a reality holo-drama". Much to my despair, the fic I loved had been deleted from every site it was uploaded to, and I was left kicking myself for not having downloaded a copy from AO3.

Shout out to Kam and Lofe, whose wonderful Binderary demos were put to use in the making of this book! Kam's French Double-Core endbands demo was super helpful, sizing up the 'textblock' and components made it easy to actually see what's happening with the sewing. Loffe's demo introduced me to the split-board binding technique and, sleep-deprived hiccup notwithstanding, I think I might find it easier then bradel style binding! Need to bind more books to know for sure (such a hardship 😔).

In other new-s, I took my dad's recent workshop baby for a spin. The bookbinding plough works like a dream! I tried a hidden fore-edge painting for the first time (just a solid colour), but the purple is lost under the Payne's Gray basecoat I applied to the silver painted edges. Adding ribbon to the cover was also new (mostly due to the fact that I never remember until the endpapers are already pasted down).

On the Design

Cover

This is a Team Thunderclap!Ye Xiu AU, so the cover was based on Team Thunderclap's uniforms from the donghua (from the one screencap of the team I found, see below): purple across the shoulders and forearms of their jackets with a yellow stripe down the centre. I added silver ribbon as a nod to the white of the jackets as well as the grey gear of the team's logo. Also in reference to the title: yellow=sunlight, silver=moonlight.

Title Page

The title page stumped me for a while. While brainstorming title page design ideas, I thought about what the title means. In English it's poetic but nonsensical, so I wondered if maybe it held some meaning in Chinese?

As it turns out, it does. Kind of. Maybe. (If I stretch and reach for it, it makes sense). According to a quick search of one webpage for each query, "'White Moonlight' usually refers to a person or thing that is elusive in the heart, has always been loved, but cannot be touched" or "an 'unforgettable first love'." The sunbeam itself might be Ye Xiu, the figurative ray of light, the hero, the gaming idol. Or 'catching a sunbeam' could refer to how "sunflowers turn their heads to catch every sunbeam."

The potential meaning I have cobbled together is how Dai Yanqi turns Ye Xiu's head and captures his heart by sharing the (SanXiu-ified) story of Su Muqiu, the aforementioned white moonlight. Is this what the author intended? Who knows. But it does seem plausible enough to inspire me.

I ended up using both the idea of sunflowers and Thunderclap's uniforms (again). Lightning referencing the team's logo, and also the white colour of a flash of lightning which is kind of like moonlight. The logo's background is blue, as is the uniform as seen on the cover of the manhua featuring the captain Xiao Shiqin (see below), so I made the background blue-purple.

Endpapers

The (not-actually-)sunflowers carried over to the endpapers, as well as the grey colour from the gear in Thunderclap's logo.

Endbands

Kept these simple. A solid purple, as close as I could get to the bookcloth. I didn't want to draw attention away from the stripes on the covers or the silver edges.

Probably could've gone for thicker cores.

The text

For the scene breaks I used a special character of a gear. The cog also looks like a sun. Which is fun because it can reference Thunderclap, the title (sunbeam), and my design choice of sunflowers.

I reused the lightning image at 50% opacity as a background to set apart the backmatter.

Misc.

Recently, I've begun to increase my efforts of preseving fanfiction and safeguarding the stories I love from purges and takedowns. (Sparked by the December 2023 scandal about Sony announcing an upcoming removal of content including the movies and TV shows that people have purchased).

This fic has been archived via the Wayback Machine at https://web.archive.org/web/20240215155152/https://archiveofourown.org/works/37414021?view_full_work=true.

Also, curses be upon Rawpixel. Since the time that I had downloaded the images, they have now be placed behind the premium user paywall (along with a number of other graphics and elements that used to be free).

#the king's avatar #tka #qzgs #fanfiction #bookbinding #fanbinding

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sarahowritesostucky · 6 months

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📖"The Taste of You"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: Fresh AU, dark rom-com, dark!Bucky, pre-serum Steve, cannibalism, kidnapping, yandere/basement wife, meet cute-ish, gay sex n' stuff, dub-con bordering on non-con, ignoring of sexual boundaries

Summary: Steve is so tired of the meat market that modern dating has become. Just when he's deleted all the apps and given up on ever finding Mr. Right, he meets the perfect guy at the grocery store.

A dark, cute, funny, fucked up, and very tasty love story.

It's a Fresh AU. "If you can't handle the cannibalism, get out of the kitchen"--or something like that

4. Mise-en-Place

Wait! I haven't read the previous chapter(s)

youtube

Steve has to promise his coworker Daryl everything short of oral sex to get him to pick up his weekend shifts. But he does agree to do it.

And then Steve spends most of the week daydreaming about the upcoming trip with James. He packs and repacks his bag probably a dozen times. He doesn’t really know anything about what they’ll be doing, other than fucking and hanging out at the house. And he doesn’t know anything about the house except that it has a hot tub.

“The Catskills?” Clint complains when Steve calls the morning of his departure to let him know that he’ll be gone for a few days. “You’ve known this guy for a hot second and you’re letting him take you away to the middle of nowhere?”

Steve huffs. “It’s not the middle of nowhere. He’s got a house out there. He goes there all the time.” Steve stuffs his swim trunks into his already stuffed-full weekend bag, then wrestles the zipper closed. He plops down onto his bed with the phone at his ear. “Be happy for me. I really think this is going to go somewhere.”

Clint sighs over the line. “Fine. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” Steve says primly.

“You’re welcome. Look, just … just let me know when you’ve gotten there safely, okay? And text me his address so I at least know where to send the cops for your body.”

“Thank you, Safety Officer Barton,” Steve drawls. “I’ll text you.” They say goodbye and Steve hangs up. He checks the time—still an hour to go. He sighs and tries to resist the urge to check and repack his stuff again.

Steve’s smile is massive as James pulls up in front of his building in the most ridiculous car Steve’s ever seen outside of a movie. “Wow,” he says.

James is movie star handsome in his windswept hair and sunglasses, jaw working as he chews a piece of gum. “Get in loser, we’re going shopping!”

Steve laughs at the line and tosses his bag in the backseat. He opens the passenger side door and slides in across buttery leather. “Is this a fucking Lamborghini?”

“Bugatti, baby,” James says, popping his gum. “You like it?”

“Well I’m not exactly a car guy but …” Steve looks around the interior and nods, impressed. “Don’t you think it’s too cold to have the top down?”

“Psh, 'course it is.” James pushes a button on the dash and the top starts coming out. He leans over and pecks a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “Just wanted to pull up in style.”

Steve hums, taking in the nice outfit James is wearing, how he manages to look so well put together even when he’s casual. (What is something like that called? A sports jacket?) “Yeah. I don’t think anybody could accuse you of not being stylish.” He tries to remember what all he’d stuffed in his bag that morning. It hadn’t all been tee shirts and jeans, had it? Hm. He fiddles with his hands, picking at where there’s still a bit of ochre #217 crusted under the nail. “This isn’t what you were driving on our date.”

“I usually keep this one out at the house,” James tells him. “I’m not about to shell out for a second parking space in fucking Midtown.”

Steve laughs at him, because anybody who drives a Bugatti sure as shit doesn’t have to worry about wasting a few grand on parking.

“Hey! It’s the principle of the matter,” James argues as they zip down Atlantic Avenue, headed for the interstate. “Some things are worth splurging on, some things aren’t.”

“Okay.” Steve settles back in his seat. “What’s worth splurging on, then?”

“Mm.” James pretends to think about it. “Cars to impress your new boyfriend,” he says, and Steve’s heart skips a beat. “Watches. I fucking love watches. Hm … travel, art, a view, privacy,” he continues listing, unaware that Steve’s still totally stuck on the first part. “And a good meal.” He looks over, grinning. “Don’t you think?”

“Um,” Steve licks his lips, trying to calm down. “Y-yeah. Yeah I guess all of those things.” He looks back out the windshield, thoughts spinning. Should he say something? He thinks he should. No better time than when they’re stuck together in a car. There’ll be no escaping the conversation. “So … are we boyfriends?” he asks, his voice coming out much quieter than he intends. He sounds exactly as nervous as he doesn’t want James to think he is. “I mean …” He looks over, can’t read James’ expression because the guy’s half cloaked by the aviators. “Are we?”

James takes one hand off the wheel and holds it out for Steve, threading their fingers together. “I was thinking that we were,” he says, not looking away from the road. “I haven’t been seeing anyone else since I met you. I haven’t wanted to.”

Steve swallows, the butterflies (or frogs or whatever-the-fuck idiom it is that lives in his stomach) jumping around happily. “Me neither,” he says. He tries not to beam too much, tries to be smooth and cool like James is. “Ah, that’s kind of what I was hoping for. What I was hoping you wanted.” He huffs and scratches at his neck awkwardly. “I just um, guess I’ve gotten used to not putting a label on things. ‘Boyfriend’ and stuff.” He looks down. “Guys tend to disappear once you start talking like that.”

“Fuck. What sorts of losers have you been dating?” James says, and Steve is so honestly taken aback that he has to laugh at himself a little and concede the point.

“Yeah, I guess you might be right.”

“I know I’m right.”

It’s cute, how James has gentlemanly outrage for Steve’s lame ass dating life. Steve shrugs, smiling because it’s nice to feel wanted for once, instead of disposable. “S’fine. It just got disheartening after a while. I was starting to think maybe I’m one of those people who’s just meant to wind up alone. The odd one out. Ya know?”

It’s quiet, and when Steve looks over he’s surprised to find James staring at him, the aviators slipped down his nose to reveal his eyes. “Yeah,” James murmurs. “Yeah I know a little bit about being the odd one out.” On the center console, his hand gives Steve’s a squeeze. “And nobody’s meant to be alone, Honey.”

Steve’s chest constricts a little. He licks his lips and watches James watch him. He doesn’t think he’s ever met anybody with eyes as kind and as real as James’. He’s so fucking genuine that it makes Steve feel cracked open whenever James stares at him, peeled down to the raw bits underneath. “You know,” he says quietly. “I’ve never met somebody who looks at me like that.”

James’ mouth quirks. “Like what?”

“Hm. Like you know me already.” Steve turns his head with a sigh and lets his eyes slip closed while he feels the warmth of the sun coming in through the car window. “Like you can read my thoughts. Like you see something other people don’t. It’s intense.”

“... Too intense?”

“Mm mn.” Steve shakes his head. “No, actually I like it. It’s nice for a change. Makes me feel ... I dunno, almost kinda savored?”

When Steve peeks at him again, he’s treated to the sight of James, with his sunglasses pushed back up, grinning at the road. His smile is a slash of sparkling white across his handsome face, making him look too good to be true. “Somebody like you should be savored,” he tells him. “You know, I think I might keep you, Steve.”

Steve grins and turns his head to look back out the window as they drive farther and farther from the city.

“Wake up, sleepyhead.”

Steve opens his eyes, yawning as the car pulls to a stop. “Mm.” He stretches and unhooks his seatbelt. "We there?"

“We’re here.”

From the driveway, the house isn’t much to look at. It’s almost fully concealed within the expertly done landscaping, as if the house’s existence itself is supposed to be a secret. The custom building materials visible at the front door are severe but unique, hinting at what’s inside.

“Holy f—” Steve trails in after James, eyes wide as he looks around.

“Home sweet home,” James demures, dropping Steve’s bag on the kitchen island and walking over to the fridge. There’s the tinkle of ice as he pulls things from the freezer drawer. “So what do you think? It’s nice, right?”

“Um …” Steve walks slowly through the living room, taking in the expensive house. One glance around and anybody with two braincells to rub together would be able to tell that the place was completely custom made, from the studs right on up to the roof. “Yeah. It’s really ...” he looks around. “Intimidating.”

“‘Intimidating’,” James echoes, amused. He pours something amber from a crystal decanter. “I guess that’s fair. You told me I'm intimidating, and I am the one who designed it.”

Steve goes to sit on the couch. “No, I mean it’s great, don’t get me wrong.” He looks around, considering the dark wood and poured concrete and brick, the beaten leather sofas and various oddball art pieces that somehow feel right. “Very … midcentury meets 70’s eclectic.”

James smirks and brings their drinks over, handing Steve his. “Ya know, I know you’re a snobby artist,” he teases. “So I’m not sure if you’re actually complimenting my house or poking fun at it.”

Steve grins around his cocktail straw. “Well it’s more fun if I leave you wondering.”

James sits down next to him on the couch. “Gonna keep me on my toes?”

“Oh, always.”

“By the way, that’s my version of an old fashioned,” James tells him. They clink glasses in a little toast.

“To our weekend away,” Steve says.

“To our very relaxing weekend away,” James agrees. “By the way,” he nods at Steve’s glass. “There’s a little something extra in there. Want to try and guess what it is?

“Ooh. Okay. What are the stakes?”

James waggles his eyebrows. “Oral sex?”

Steve snorts. “Okay sure. But is there really a loser in that equation?”

“Probably not.” James gives him a wink. “But there is most certainly a winner.”

Steve brings his glass up for a thoughtful sip. “Hmm … peach?” he guesses.

James smirks and sinks back further into the couch. “Nope. Close though.”

Steve tries again, sips and thinks about it. “Apricot?”

“Nope.” James is looking delighted. “One more guess. You are close.”

“Well if it’s a stone fruit …” Steve frowns. “Oh! Nectarine?”

“Ha! Yep you got it.” James looks utterly pleased as he leans over to peck a kiss to his cheek. “Smart boy. You win."

Steve flushes at the words. “You don’t seem like a very sore loser.”

“There’s no bet I’d be happier to lose.” James heaves himself up off the couch with a deep sigh. “Alright, obligatory tour time?” He holds out his hand, and Steve is back to grinning like a fool as he lets his boyfriend show him around his intimidating—but also, really damn nice—house.

“It doesn’t feel very lived in,” Steve admits, as they’re changing into their swim trunks. James leads him to the back patio where there’s a hot tub sunken into the concrete. “I thought you said you spend a lot of time here?”

“I said I spend as much time as I can here. Which isn’t as much as I’d like.” James scoots over to sit beside him. “You know we didn’t actually have to wear swimsuits. We’re hours from the city.”

“So isolated. No neighbors at all?”

“Mm mn. Not for miles.”

“Wow. It’s strange to think that places like that even exist anymore.” Steve lays his head on James’ shoulder. “After a lifetime in Brooklyn, ya know? To think that there’s that much space left in the world for just two people?” He shakes his head. “S’crazy.”

“Yeah. But I like it.” James wraps an arm around his waist, holding him close. “It’s freeing, you know? You can just be yourself out here. Don’t have to worry about what anybody will think.”

“Think of what?” Steve asks, remembering how James has said similar things about enjoying privacy in the past. “Are you not out to your family, or something?”

James laughs. “No, not that. I’ve been out to everyone I know since med school. I just meant: in general, I find the seclusion relaxing. I don’t have to worry about nosy neighbors, or being too loud.” He squeezes Steve’s side playfully. “Or walking around butt naked if I want.”

Steve giggles. He pulls away from James in the water, turning to face him with a sly look. “Well, maybe you’re right then.” He slides out of his trunks and holds them up in show before tossing them away. They land with a wet 'splat' on the concrete. “Fuck swimsuits.”

James laughs in delight and copies him, tossing his shorts in the same direction. “Yeah, fuck ‘em.” They’re both laughing as he pulls Steve back in to straddle his lap, the water bubbling around them and mostly-obscuring their nudity. “Oh, Steve,” he sighs. “I’m so glad you let me bring you out here.” He reaches up and cups his jaw. “I really want to get to know you, intimately.” His thumb traces a tender path on Steve’s cheek. “It’ll be nice. Don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes. “Yeah, it really will.”

They talk for what feels like hours, flirting and sipping cocktails and trading jokes. They share their opinions on stupid topics and meaningful ones, interspersed with the few quiet moments that happen when one of them works up the nerve to tell the other about some intimate detail from their life.

Steve confesses that he'd reached a low point, after his mom's death, and that he hadn't improved until he'd sought out therapy. James receives the information with sympathy, and then keeps his eyes averted as he admits that he’s been married, once before. “It didn’t last long,” he mumbles, looking rueful about it. “Less than a year.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says gently. “What happened?”

James shakes his head sadly. “He just wasn’t the one. We didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things and ... he left me."

Steve bites his lip, hating how sad James looks as he talks about it. He tries to lighten the mood by recounting the story of one hilariously bad date in recent memory. It gets James laughing again, which is a relief, and they fall back into the easy banter that seems to come so naturally to them. They’re both dog people. James prefers tea to coffee. Steve is a staunch murderer of houseplants. James fancies himself a gourmet cook.

“Yeah, you still have to prove that to me,” Steve teases as they head back inside, their discarded bathing suits left behind on the patio like shed skin.

James towels Steve off and pulls him into the bed, lying over him. “Oh, I'll prove it. Gonna cook you an amazing dinner tonight.” He dips down, kissing him gently. “But first, I think there’s a wager I lost that I need to make good on.” He kisses down Steve’s throat, his chest. “You want that?”

Steve squirms and nods, blood flowing south at just the thought of James’ beautiful mouth around his dick. “Yeah. Yeah, you definitely should. Don’t want to be a sore loser.”

“Definitely not. Especially since you’re such a gracious winner,” James continues kissing his way down, taking his time, big hands splayed out over ribs, caressing him. “Love your body, honey,” he murmurs against the pale skin of his stomach. He lets his hands slide further down, thumbs swiping over hip bones. “So sweet. So delicate.”

“Christ,” Steve complains, but James doesn’t let him get away with that.

“No. I mean it, Steven. Every part of you. You hear me?”

“Yeah yeah, I—” Steve inhales sharply as he’s suddenly enveloped in the wet heat of James’ mouth, not even very hard, yet. “Oh!”

“Mmhm,” James hums around his mouthful of rapidly-hardening dick. He sucks him gently, rubbing his hands over Steve’s hips, his belly, his sensitive inner thighs. He pops off and taps Steve’s cock against the flat of his tongue. “Feel good?”

Steve nods shakily. “Y-yeah. Yeah keep going. Please.”

James smiles and kisses his belly reverently, then takes him right back into his mouth. Even as Steve hardens all the way, James can still handle a lot, not choking even when Steve’s cock hits the back of his throat. Steve moans at a particularly strong suck. “James, yes,” he whispers, sliding his fingers into James' dark hair and holding him. “Oh, god …” A hand joins in, stroking while James lavishes attention at the head. He’s gentle in how he handles him, but utterly methodical. Steve’s hips kick up once James starts playing with his balls, and he whines near-desperately when a single finger ventures back to his asshole. “Oh fuck …”

James makes a pleased noise that reverberates all the way through Steve's cock and into his balls. He presses the tip of his finger in dry, takes him all the way down to the hilt—and swallows compulsively around the head of his dick.

Steve comes with a sudden cry, clinging to James helplessly as he spurts against his tongue. "Ah ah, ahnn ..." James hums and holds him and sucks him through it, only pulling off once Steve is shivering in oversensitivity. He lays his cheek on Steve’s stomach and waits him out while he recovers. “S-sorry,” Steve pants. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh, it’s okay.”

Eventually Steve’s breathing calms, and he opens his eyes again. He looks down at where James is resting against his stomach, his dark hair against Steve’s pale skin, mouth red and shiny with cum. “Fuck,” Steve breathes. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

James licks his lips clean, staring up at him. “And you’re delicious.” He climbs back up his body, dick hard and insistent where it drags a wet line across Steve’s belly. “Can I fuck you, Sweetheart?” he asks, the words sweeter than they have any right to be as he dips down and kisses him with the taste of cum still on his lips. “Is that okay? or are you too sensitive?”

Steve shivers, rolling his hips up even though his dick has gone soft. “No. No, you can,” he breathes, reaching down to take hold of James' cock and give it a squeeze. It's so hot and big, and the feeling of it throbbing against his palm makes arousal flare back to life in Steve’s belly. “Just … just go slow, yeah?”

James kisses him tenderly, promising, “Of course. Always. Hang on a sec.” He stretches away for the bedside drawer, and then his weight returns. He encourages Steve to roll over onto his front, gently maneuvering a pillow under his hips. “There you go,” he praises, running a hand down the center of his back, over his ass and then the back of one thigh. “God, Steve ... You’re a fucking wet dream, you know that?”

Steve huffs. “Yeah, sure.” He pulses down against the pillow, dick spent but still enjoying the sensation. He gasps when he suddenly feels James nosing between his cheeks. “Oh! Oh fuck, are you gonna —”

“Yeah,” James breathes out against his hole and grabs handfuls of his ass. He squeezes. “Oh, Baby. This fuckin’ peach of an ass." He kisses just below Steve’s tailbone and murmurs, “You’re so small but you got the roundest little ass I ever saw. You know that, Honey?”

Steve makes a tiny sound of protest, but then in the next second James is licking right over him, lapping and sucking at his hole like he can’t get enough. Steve grunts into the sheets and screws his eyes shut, panting at how good it feels. “God, ugh, James …”

James tongues and sucks at him, pulls away with the wettest, filthiest sound possible and growls, “Just want to eat this ass up.”

Steve cries out at the sharp pinch of teeth on his ass, but that sound bleeds into a groan when James sucks hard on the spot, almost certainly securing a bruise in Steve's future. “Fuck,” Steve pants quietly, grinding down against the pillow beneath his hips. He realizes he’s getting hard again just as James starts to really tongue fuck his hole—quick, dirty little jabs that make Steve clench and twitch, desperately aware of how much more he wants to feel. “James,” he gasps, mouth gone dry. He turns his head and pants. “James, oh, please. Please, come on.” He huffs and whines and tries to reach back, and James gets the hint.

He crawls up Steve’s body and seals his chest to Steve's back, kneeing his legs apart, laying his full weight into him. He kisses the nape of Steve's neck and slowly slides his hands all the way down the length of his arms, hands covering Steve's smaller ones at the very end. Steve groans at how good it feels.

“Oh, Daddy.”

He doesn’t mean to say it. It just slips out.

James is quiet for a heartbeat, feeling Steve's back tensing beneath him. He hums smugly and starts kissing and licking at his neck. “Aw, what’s wrong?” he coos. "You embarrassed, Princess? Just cause you like Daddy’s tongue in your ass? Does that get you real worked up?” Steve whines in mortification and James snickers. He licks along the shell of his ear. “Oh yeah, that’s what it is. You’re embarrassed cause you need Daddy to put something a little bigger up there, don'tcha? You need it, and you don’t want to have to ask.”

Steve moans weakly, tears nearly coming to his eyes at how easily James just accepted it, went with it. Fuck, he’s too good to be true. “Yes,” he whispers, pushing his ass back the little bit that he can, with James’ big body weighing him down. “Yeah Daddy, please.”

“Okay. Yeah, okay Baby,” James exhales shakily, as if this is getting to him just as much. “Anything you want, you know that? You can have it.” He kisses Steve’s shoulder and lubes up his fingers, dragging them right over Steve’s hole. “Relax for me, Honey. Just let me make you feel good.”

He presses in with two, slowly, and Steve gasps at the sudden pressure and the stretch. “Oh,” he pants quietly against the sheets, “Oh f-fuck ..."

“Okay?” James asks. He hooks his fingers and gives a slow drag out. “Hm?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispers. His eyes are closed and his brow furrowed as he focuses on the feeling. “Fuck, yeah. It’s–it's good ... oh…”

James pushes back in. He starts up a slow but steady rhythm, fucking him softly on two fingers until Steve’s pressing back into it eagerly, ready enough for another. “Fuck, Honey,” he groans when Steve is clenching and moaning on three of his fingers, wet and loose and pushing back into it, crying out when he gets at his prostate just right. “You ready for my cock, baby?” James asks, already pulling his fingers out.

“Yeah,” Steve says, nodding eagerly and squirming. “Yeah. Condom?”

James hums and rolls his hips, sliding his dick through the slicked up valley of Steve’s ass. “I got tested,” he murmurs. “Don’t need one.”

“What? But—”

James hushes him with a kiss to his shoulder. “We don’t need one,” he whispers, reassuring him. “It’s fine.”

Steve whines, trying to think past the haze of his lust. “Yeah but I … I don’t think—”

James has propped himself up on one arm and is holding his dick with the other, guiding it where he wants it, rubbing the head against Steve’s hole. His knees spread Steve's legs wider, and Steve whimpers,

“Oh, w-wait,”

“Shhh.” James presses harder. His cock slips inside. “Theere we go.”

Steve’s breath catches at the feeling. “Fuck, oh …”

“Beautiful.” James falls back over him, body heavy and warm, cock sliding in in in, until his hips meet Steve's ass. "Oohyeah." He grinds into him and kisses his shoulder. “You’re okay,” he soothes, hips rocking just the barest bit, his cock huge and unrelenting where it's fully seated. “S'that good? Tell Daddy how it feels."

Steve whimpers and nods tightly, because it does feel good. It feels amazing. He loves this part, always has; the first few, overwhelming seconds of being penetrated, being taken. It’s so full, so much pressure inside that he can hardly stand it. “Y-yeah,” he says shakily, thinking about the condom, how James is bare up inside him right now. “S’big. Oh, fuck, James …”

“Yeah,” James says, moving against him in another, dirty grind. Then he seeks out Steve’s mouth and kisses him as he starts to fuck him softly.

And Steve kisses back, accepting the slide of James’ tongue and the hot push of his cock as the pleasure mounts. His cock throbs against the pillow and his insides begin to coil tighter and tighter, wanting more. He tries to fuck back harder, tries to wedge a hand underneath of himself, but James catches him in against his body and rolls them over, Steve still held captive against his chest. He hooks a heel over Steve's shin, curls a hand at the base of his neck. His other hand slides down his belly, bumping his cock but not reaching to take him in hand. He just holds him still while he keeps rolling his hips, fucking up into him languidly.

It’s frustratingly slow but it’s at the right angle. In fact it’s at such a fucking perfect angle, and the feeling of being trapped so thoroughly against James' body is so nice, that Steve starts to get close anyway. He cries out and begs, telling James how good it is, babbling at him, begging him for just a touch, just a little more. “I’m gonna cum, please. Ohgod, ohmygod ...” He reaches for himself, cries out loudly when James knocks his hand away, denying him with a breathy,

“Wait.”

“Please!” Steve hiccups, voice small and thready. He’s so close.

“You feel perfect, Steve,” James whispers, kissing the side of his head. “Feels so fucking good for me, inside of your body. D’you know that?” He rolls his hips deep and stays buried up in him, finally wraps his hand around Steve’s cock.

Steve sobs and thrashes against him. “Oh, please! Uhn, ah ah—”

“You beg so pretty, Honey.” James holds him tighter at the neck and strokes him off—so tight and slow. It’s so good, so close but not enough ...

“I–I need,” Steve gasps,

“Shshsh, I know, I know. You’re so close, aren’t you Baby?” James is hardly thrusting now, just grinding his cock inside Steve while he jerks him off. “So close,” he whispers. “You can almost taste it.” He flicks his tongue over the shell of Steve’s ear and Steve sobs.

He nods against the hand on his neck, relishing the way that he’s being held so tight, controlled so completely, coaxing words whispered right into his skin, working him closer and closer to the edge. Fuck, there really are tears in his eyes now. “P-please,” he begs wetly. “Oh.”

“It’s okay,” James coos, squeezing his cock even harder and going faster, knuckling under the head on every stroke. It’s enough, finally. Oh. “Let me feel you now, Honey. Right on my dick. Let Daddy feel it happen.”

It's that knuckle under the head that does it; that, and Bucky's voice purring reassuring filth in his ear. Steve grunts as his orgasm breaks inside, that high tide of pleasure finally tipping over and crashing so good that it hurts. “Oh, god, ohfuck ...” He seizes in James’ hold, voice sticking in his throat as he goes silent and shoots off hard, pulsing and pulsing with it. So fucking good.

James groans and curses beneath him. He wraps both of his huge arms around Steve’s middle and holds him like a sex doll while he ruts into him, chasing his own climax until he’s coming, too. He fucks him through it, until his cum is slipping back out around his slowing thrusts and his softening dick, their bodies messy and wet. “Fuck,” he pants hotly against the back of Steve’s neck. “Steve.”

Steve whines at the feeling when James pulls out, the rest of his cum following a second later. “Oh god. Ugh.”

James chuckles and moves him on the bed. He lies over him, one leg thrown over Steve’s and a hand cradling his face. "C'mere, you."

They kiss, long and slow, lips dragging softly together. James hums and speaks without pulling away. “Well, that was amazing.”

“Yeah.”

He sighs and rolls onto his back. “Come here. Put your head on my chest. Lemme hold you.”

Steve obeys, turning into James and wrapping an arm over his middle, while he thinks about the cum he can still feel leaking out of his ass.

He’d tried to stop it, had felt wrong going bare when they hadn’t talked it over first. He bites his lip, unsure how to say anything now without ruining the afterglow. Maybe he can’t.

“I love making love to you, Steve,” James says quietly, tracing fingertips along his spine. “You’re so beautiful. Perfect.”

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs back, smiling a little because he’s just been fucked probably better than he ever has in his whole entire life.

... Even if James did ignore him about the condom, it was still fucking amazing.

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borathae · 4 months

Note

Chapter 16

OH MY GOD WE ARE NOT DEAD YAY HOBI

WHERES KOOK???? HIS BACK????

okay this was like the calmest reaction to me being a vampire I have ever seen. hobari, my love, tae already told her thats why she is chill

I once had a girl literally run away from me screeching prayers.” xd HAHA imagine someone pulling out the cross at him and saying THE POWER CHRIST COMPELS YOU and him just blinking

hobi baby, ik your are excited, but its quite the wrong time and person to test your new skills

“No, I’m not like Jungkook. I don’t go crazy at the smell or taste of blood. Especially not when yours tastes like literal ass right now, wow thanks ig

holy shit no baby kook, im gonna fucking cry DONT PUNISH YOURSELF YOU SAVED US BOTH FUCK IM ALL TEARY EYES

I’m just waiting for the day when vampire hunters break through the front door and shoot you guys.” im imagining them coming in fbi style FBI OPEN UP WE KNOW ITS SANGUIS hobi's cute dumbass - how did u know seokjin- you just proved it

this is why she isnt scared of you both 😭😭😭 reminds me of that tiktok asking whose house will you rob and everyone straight up said hobi in the comments 💀

imagine someone seeing their bodies in front of the house also was it tae or yoongi or someone else??

ok hobi was 26 in 1982, so born in 1956 and is 68 so its 2024 hmm SO KOOK IS 94 WTF they are not even dilf, they are gilf 😭😭😭 wait in that case whats tae 😭 hold on jimin mentioned yoongi being older, is that in older than 800 years or turned at an older age?

I was turned in 1875 by some random prostitute”, bitch pls 😭😭😭 he doesnt have a sob story nor a heroic one

wait something doesnt add up jin is 217, so if its 2024, he should be born in 1807, but he was 27 in 1875

“Good that you ask because listen this is such a story”, ..“Oh god here we go again stop being a jealous bean just cuz u got turned by a hoe 😭😭

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. With that massive schlong that I carry around” you say sarcastically. you sure about that? was that foreshadow to the oneshot lol

“She bit my neck!” “And she bit my dick!” one got their throat ripped out and other ones dick. great just great. i just know, no vampire has a story like this, i mean sure neck being bitten but from a prostitute?? and dick being bitten hobi im sorry but thats a tragic comedy

A bang then a clash. bro this scared me so bad only to see its “Stupid raccoon don’t run away, come on let me spank your rubbish stealing buttocks!”

whats calling her?? where is she going?? who is down there calling? 2seokook wont have something suspicious down there right?

daisies and fresh sheets? is that jungkook? why is he down there? wtf HOW DID THE DARK CORRIDOR TURN BRIGHT???

damn how hard did he hurt himself this is so heartbreaking let me get my blanket 😭

As long as I’m paralysed I’m no danger to you NO STOP whos cutting onions

OMG SHE KISSED HIS CHEEK IM BLUSHING LIKE IM THE ONE WHO GOT KISSED AAAH

WHERES KOOK???? HIS BACK????

buckle in, that's where the angst begins 😭

okay this was like the calmest reaction to me being a vampire I have ever seen. hobari, my love, tae already told her thats why she is chill

Hobari gosh :( I miss them all together </3

I once had a girl literally run away from me screeching prayers.” xd HAHA imagine someone pulling out the cross at him and saying THE POWER CHRIST COMPELS YOU and him just blinking

JJADSFJ tbfh it's so valid though JFADJSJF

hobi baby, ik your are excited, but its quite the wrong time and person to test your new skills

FADSHJFJ HE IS SO CHAOTIC BAHAHHAH

“No, I’m not like Jungkook. I don’t go crazy at the smell or taste of blood. Especially not when yours tastes like literal ass right now, wow thanks ig

hhiihih he is so good in flirting hhiihih

holy shit no baby kook, im gonna fucking cry DONT PUNISH YOURSELF YOU SAVED US BOTH FUCK IM ALL TEARY EYES

I'M CRYING IN THE CLUB

imagine someone seeing their bodies in front of the house also was it tae or yoongi or someone else??

WHOOO KNOWWSSS not me (i know)

OKAY BEAR IN MIND!!!! I wrote this story in 2020 so it takes place in 2020. You have to subtract 4 years of their age during Sanguis Alpha. Also as far as your Yoongi question is concerned, we do not know yet what exactly he meant 👀

I was turned in 1875 by some random prostitute”, bitch pls 😭😭😭 he doesnt have a sob story nor a heroic one

fjajdfadjs he is so pathetic jfdajsf

wait something doesnt add up jin is 217, so if its 2024, he should be born in 1807, but he was 27 in 1875

Nooo it takes place in 2020 queen <3 no wait. WAIT my bisexual ass did the maths wrong HELP!!!! thanks for pointing it out I need to change the dates jfdjsjf

“Good that you ask because listen this is such a story”, ..“Oh god here we go again stop being a jealous bean just cuz u got turned by a hoe 😭😭

oh sweet summer child if only you knew jfdjsf

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. With that massive schlong that I carry around” you say sarcastically. you sure about that? was that foreshadow to the oneshot lol

BESTIE THE DOTS ARE CONNECTING FJDSJF

aahhaha they're so chaotic I love them fjadjf

whats calling her?? where is she going?? who is down there calling? 2seokook wont have something suspicious down there right?

the suspicionn

daisies and fresh sheets? is that jungkook? why is he down there? wtf HOW DID THE DARK CORRIDOR TURN BRIGHT???

THE SUSPICION

damn how hard did he hurt himself this is so heartbreaking let me get my blanket 😭

i'm crying so hard 😭

As long as I’m paralysed I’m no danger to you NO STOP whos cutting onions

LIKE PLEASE 😭😭😭

OMG SHE KISSED HIS CHEEK IM BLUSHING LIKE IM THE ONE WHO GOT KISSED AAAH

THEY'RE SO CUTUUTUTEEEE

#asks: sanguis alpha #asks #minusback #tw: long post

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bloopitynoot · 5 days

Text

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 10

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

I am so stoked for this chapter! I've been really getting into the story to the point that I want to read multiple chapters per day (I COULD but I also want to be able to take notes- so I cannot realistically with the amount of hours in a day I have) BUT I will continue with one a day.

Normally I have hot drinks while reading, but I am dehydrated as fuck, so take this as your (mostly mine, but also your) reminder to drink some water.

Let's get into it!

Wait! Like three seconds in and we are starting off strong! How can Sha Hualing control Shen Qingqiu??? p213

Holy shit, even in his new body he's being poisoned. I suppose, theoretically, if there is a person who never gets poisoned, there must be a person, statistically, who always get's poisoned. p214

Shen Qingqiu (probably): if I had a dime for every time I had demonic blood poisoning me I would have two, and that's not a lot, but fucked up it happened twice. LOL

also Shen Qingqiu (probably at this point): "and this is how I was abducted and then became a qi sex slave for a half demon cultivator" p214

Omg also, the fact that Sha Hualing tried to plant a fake SQQ to try and appease Luo Binghe. RIP to her this time for almost (accidentally) doing it again. no wonder Luo Binghe is so pissed! pp216-217

Oh god. SQQ probably doesn't die here but it would be equally terrible and funny if after all of this, second body and all, like less than 2 days in, Luo Binghe just accidentally destroys SQQ. immediate end of story p217

Well- the system is now fixed! p220

and now shen qingqiu is wearing basically a veil, oh my. p222

(Okay unrelated but related to the veil, I desperately need some arranged marriage au's. I am so ready to read the heck out of this pairing when I'm done the books).

I have a sneaking suspicion that this man (SQQ) does a terrible job of hiding his identity. "he just had to be especially careful so Luo Binghe didn't discover that he'd pull off a great escape using the Son-Moon Dew Mushrooms". p222

He really needs a better name than peerless cucumber. LOL I can't every time he introduces himself. p223

oh no, baby Luo Binghe has been mourning this entire time. p224

You know what, I'm not even mad that Little Palace Mistress is in this awful state, she is a vile character that has not grown on me at all. p226

Yeah Shen Qingqiu he definitely did not end up with any of the women because he has been super mourning for you my guy. (not that he knows this because he is oblivious af) pp228-229

Oh. My. God. This man really thinks that Luo BInghe is asexual. I can't wait till he finds out. LOL p230

Oooo! Another dream realm sequence p231

oh and we have two SQQ's (again I need this fanfiction)

aaaaaah luo binghe has clocked the real SQQ p236

Okay okay, he thinks this SQQ is part of the dream and does not know he is indeed the real deal. thank fuck for SQQ's sake I guess p236-237

Oop. now this guys is "yes and"ing Luo Binghe in the dream. Oh gosh I hope this ends alright. p237

The head pats! p238

OH MY GOD p239

DREAM REALM KISS??????!!!!!!!!!!!!! p239

(AHAHAAA his face in the art tho)

LOL the system p239

Bro just found out why Luo Binghe had no wives and is GOOPED. He really found out in the worst of ways for him ahahahahahahahah I am CACKLING p241

I truly don't know how these two end up together with SQQ not vibing at all. is it Stockholm syndrome? like I genuinely do not know how SQQ ends up realizing his emotions for this man.

SQQ is literally saved by the bell in this one. p242

Liu Qingge is here?!?!? has he been trying to avenge SQQ this entire time? p243

Ah, Fuck!

SO MANY THINGS HAPPENED.

We have a kiss, we have a SQQ now trying to be sneaky, I honestly don't know how this man is going to stay hidden- if at all.

And next chapter we have a showdown ?!?!?!?

#bloopitynoot reads svsss #svsss spoilers #mxtx svsss #svsss #YALL #I am still reeling over that dream kiss #SQQ is going to need to figure out his shit and fast #scum villain #scum villian self saving system

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steddie-fanfic-recs · 7 months

Text

change your mind

by helix_stomper

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Previous Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson & Nancy Wheeler Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Wayne Munson, Tommy Hagan, Billy Hargrove, Jim "Chief" Hopper, Tammy Thompson, Corroded Coffin (Stranger Things), The Party (Stranger Things) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, season 2 vibes, Dreamscapes, Slow Burn, POV Alternating, Hawkins High School (Stranger Things), Fluff and Angst, Falling In Love, Sharing a Bed, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Underage Drinking, Eventual Smut, Homophobic Language, Homophobia, One-sided Background Attractions, Drug Dealing, Drug Dealer Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson is Bad at Feelings, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Good Uncle Wayne Munson, Drama, Bullying, loosely inspired by cinderella stories, All Triggers are Tagged, steddiebang2023, Autistic Eddie Munson, Trans Gareth (if you squint), Babysitter Steve Harrington, Background Hellfire Club (Stranger Things), Smoking, Mike Wheeler is a Little Shit, Eddie Munson is Steve Harrington's Bisexual Awakening, Billy Hargrove is His Own Warning, Platonic Stobin, platonic edancy, rebel robin references, Eddie Munson is a Mess, Hand Jobs, Grinding, #tammythompsondefensesquad, Guns, Breaking and Entering, Grumpy Jim "Chief" Hopper, pen violence, Nancy Wheeler Knows Everything, Eddie Munson is a Little Shit, Steve Harrington is a Swiftie, Slow Dancing, Rimming, 69 (Sex Position), Mutual Pining, Outing, mentions of domestic violence, One-Sided Attraction, Concussions, ronance crumbs Words: 223,370 Chapters: 17/17

Summary

After his breakup with Nancy, Steve Harrington keeps it a secret that he hasn’t made an effort to meet his soulmate. When he accidentally wakes up next to them a few days after his 18th birthday, he’s surprised to find that it’s not only another guy, but somebody else in Hawkins. Between losing all his old friends, learning how not to be an asshole, and balancing his newfound sexuality in a closed-minded town, Steve has his work cut out for him. Eddie Munson doesn’t believe in soulmates, but that doesn’t stop him from waiting in the dreamscape every night for his. Balancing life as an openly queer, drug-dealing super senior in Hawkins, Indiana is no cakewalk, especially with Billy Hargrove on his ass. But maybe, just maybe, there’s something to that whole soulmate thing after all. Project # 217 for the Steddie BigBang (2023)

#steddie #steddie fic rec #multi-chaptered #200k+#au soulmates #au modern #slow burn #fluff #angst #bed sharing #dream sharing #mutual pining

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do-androids-dream-ao3acc · 28 days

Text

BuckTommyWhumpWeek, Day 6 Helicopter crash

All the Pain, Chapter 6 | Read on AO3 | In this chapter (CW): Still trapped under the rubble, Buck's body is giving in. | @bucktommywhumpweek

(-> Chapter 1) (-> Chapter 2) (-> Chapter 3) (-> Chapter 4) (-> Chapter 5)

There's a traffic accident on the interstate at 2 a.m., and it's bad.

Six cars wedged into each other, plus a burning truck loaded with pork halves, half a mile of destroyed guardrail and a bunch of meat spread across the highway. One dead, a dozen injured. It's a battlefield with three units of firefighters plus air support to sort everything out. The helicopter is mainly used to monitor traffic, while several police units clear up the chaos on the streets.

The 132, 217 and 118 are in operation. It's never easy to coordinate several task forces, but tonight, all captains quickly agree on Bobby because he's the oldest and has the most experience. Work runs smoothly, as if it were the catastrophe itself that welds everyone together – and often enough, it is. It's not easy, but every injured driver is freed from their wreck, and the paramedics quickly form a triage.

The accident is still a difficult piece of work, keeping them busy for several hours. It’s long after the last injured was taken away in an ambulance that the first responders get to pack up. Adrenaline will soon fade, and once they’re back in station, they’ll be exhausted. They will still stay a bit longer to talk about what happened, Bobby will make sure of that. Captain Shore, who recently took over Harbor Station, shakes hands with him after radioing air support that the mission is over.

“Very good work tonight,” says Bobby, and he means it.

“Likewise, Captain Nash,” Shore replies with a smile. “Hold on a second...”

She taps her radio again and repeats her message, “Air Support, do you copy? Operation completed.”

The radio crackles into silence, which is admittedly unusual; it’s protocol to answer every radio message. Bobby and Shore gaze up into a night sky illuminated only by a few stars, but it’s empty of helicopters.

Hen, who’s loading the last emergency bag into the fire truck, asks, “Is Tommy on duty today?”

“You think he flew straight home to his boyfriend?” Chimney replies with a laugh, about to get into the vehicle. “He's off tonight, why do you think Buck was so keen to swap shifts?”

“It's Andrews, not Tommy,” Shore confirms, repeating her radio message once again. “But none of my pilots would return to base without confirming order. I swear, if it’s that gremlin technology again…”

“Dispatch, has air support reported back?” Bobby asks into his radio.

“Negative. Is this about the highway accident? Can't you get through to air support?”

“Does that happen sometimes?” Bobby asks Captain Shore, and she nods.

“Harbor got a whole bunch of new tech gimmicks, but they keep breaking down.” Then she speaks into her radio again, “Dispatch, try to reach air support for me, please.”

She gives the helicopter’s labeling number and its last known position before turning back to Bobby with a grim face.

“Williams has been blowing me off for weeks, I keep trying to reach her. We can't work like this, not with devices that...”

“Captain Shore, your helicopter has disappeared from our radar,” dispatch reports. It’s Josh’s rookie, Chrissy, the incredulity dripping from her voice betraying her inexperience.

“What do you mean, disappeared?” Shore almost shouts into the radio.

“Hold on. Confirming last position according to your information, but no radio contact for about an hour, and the signal can no longer be found.”

“Does the GPS also cause problems?” asks Bobby, frowning.

“No,” replies Shore, ”but it can be difficult to locate, depending on the weather. Or when it’s blocked by trees...”

“You mean in the event of a crash,” says Hen, who, like the rest of Bobby's crew, has now stepped closer.

“We would have noticed a crash,” Bobby remarks.

“We've been pretty busy,” Chimney interjects. “If the last signal was an hour ago, the helicopter could be practically anywhere now.”

“Why would it move away from the scene?”

“That's at the pilot's discretion,” Captain Shore explains. “There may well be reasons that are not so obvious to us down here.”

“And air traffic control?” asks Hen, but Shore shakes her head, “Helicopters only have to sign in and out at their control centers. They don't fly anywhere near the altitude of airplanes, so they’re usually not subject to air traffic control.”

“But there's probably an app for that,” says Bobby. “To monitor helicopter traffic?”

“True. Never used it, though. I assume he’s just returned to Harbor.”

“Captain,” Hen reasons, obviously not convinced, “at least he would have called then, even if the radios were down. Especially then.”

“I believe you also think he crashed, Captain,” Chimney says, rummaging for his phone.

“Even if I did,” she returns with doubt in her voice, “somebody would have noticed a crash.”

“This is L.A., I’ve seen tourists mistake an earthquake for a movie event. What’s the name of this app?”

“Captain Shore?” It’s dispatch again. They can hear it’s another voice now, Josh, who’s obviously has taken over the call. Shore clutches her radio and holds out a hand to Chimney, mouthing wait. “I think I know where your helicopter may be.”

●·○·●·○·●·○·●·○·●●·○·●·○·●·○·●·○·●

Buck is in a cocoon, just away from all the security that normally comes with it.

There's nothing cozy or soft in his stone prison. He’s cut off from the world around him, so it might as well have gone under without him realizing it. Buck has been counting the seconds since Tommy left, but his mind keeps wandering, and it's getting harder to breathe.

Maybe that's just it. Maybe the ceiling will collapse completely before Tommy manages to get help. Or perhaps the pain and blood loss will reach the point where his body can no longer handle either. Buck never delved too deeply into the tasks of paramedics. He knows the basics, but he's nothing more than an amateur who happened to help a baby into the world once, on his own couch. Apart from that, he knows just enough to realize things are not exactly looking good for him. He's not quite sure if his life is hanging by a thread, but his consciousness certainly is – he feels dizzy now even lying down, and the pain seems to have taken over his whole body, even in his head. He just wants to close his eyes for a minute.

Perhaps the worst thing is the doubt. Buck is confused and hurt, but he's seen Tommy's face, and the man is guaranteed to have a concussion, if not worse. There's nothing Buck wants less than Tommy walking around in this state, but there's also nothing he could have done to stop him. He’s in crisis mode, something Buck knows all too well himself. Buck can only lie here, breathe in the dust and hope that Tommy still knows what he's doing, even with a bleeding skull.

He can't keep his eyes open.

There's a helicopter not far above the house; it was approaching as they pulled into the driveway.

“Pretty low,” Tommy says with that admirable connoisseur's look, but Buck is more interested in him than in the helicopter, and he can hardly wait for the man to unlock the door.

Once inside, he pushes him against the door, and the bag with the takeaway lands carelessly on the floor as Buck searches for Tommy's lips. He can never get enough of this.

The kiss lasts just long enough to rasp up his voice as he says, “Dinner's getting cold. I'm gonna wash my hands real quick.”

“Really, Evan?” groans Tommy, but he picks up the bag as they pull away from each other. “One wonders what you like more, dim sum or your boyfriend.”

“I'll show you when I get back,” Buck grins and vanishes into the bathroom.

He thinks he hears Tommy say, “That doesn't sound good at all,” but that doesn’t make any sense. He also hears sirens. Funny, Buck thinks, a lot of firemen claim that they can tell the difference between the sirens on their own fire engines and those on others, and that's actually nonsense because the department buys the same ones for every station. This one, however, totally sounds like the 118. What would they be doing at Tommy’s place? Buck leans on the sink and looks at himself in the mirror.

There’s no reflection, and it startles him. He turns around, but there’s also no door anymore, which is quite confusing. Because if there’s no door, where’s Chimney’s voice coming from, calling his name?

“Buck! Open your eyes for me, will you?”

I didn't realize I had closed them, Buck thinks as he cracks his eyes open. Strangely enough, it's not so dark now. Maybe he’s just been here for a very, very long time, long enough for a new day to have passed its zenith. A second later, he realizes that headlights are illuminating his surroundings. Chimney kneels in the remains of the blue tiles and stones that were once the walls of Tommy's bathroom. He looks so serious, thinks Buck.

“Hey there, Sleeping Beauty. Let me see if I can hook you up on an IV, and then we'll get you out of there, yeah?”

Buck wonders, very briefly, why it’s not Hen doing this, but the answer is more logical than his aching head should be capable of: Chimney is smaller and more agile, and unlike Tommy, he actually manages to reach Buck.

“Tommy,” he says as he tries to look at Chimney's concentrated face, not really feeling what he's doing anyway. “Where's Tommy?”

“We'll take care of that once we got you out of here, all right? Let me check your vitals.”

“But he-he called you, didn't he?” asks Buck.

“Called us?”

His brother-in-law's face is interesting when he's confused, Buck finds. His eyebrows almost creep into his hairline, as they do now.

“No, Buckaroo. We were looking for a missing helicopter, and the only call dispatch got was from one of Tommy's neighbors. Nobody really took it seriously, unfortunately,” Chimney says as he works on Buck. Somehow, that doesn’t explain anything.

“What helicopter?” asks Buck, confused. “Tommy wasn't in a helicopter.”

“Pretty sure he wasn't. It's a long and strange story, and I'll tell you all about it as soon as we get you out of here. Okay, I think we can try now…”

“Wait,” Buck interrupts him urgently, “where's Tommy?”

Bobby's face shifts next to Chimney's. He’s visibly having a harder time squeezing into this narrow space.

“We'll find him, don't worry, Buck,” he soothes. “Let's help you first, all right?”

“No, no, you don't understand,” Buck returns with urge, voice muffled with dust in his throat. If he waits a second longer, he'll suffocate and won't have time to tell them what they need to know.

“Blood pressure's dropping,” someone says, and then there’s Chimney's voice from somewhere, “Calm down. It's going to be okay.”

“It's not," Buck chokes, “It's not gonna be okay. Tommy ran out to get help. He had a head injury. You must...”

“Buck? Hey. Stay awake, kid.”

“... find him,” he says, and then nothing more.

(this chapter was beta-read by @lavenderleahy, thank you!)

#writing #fanfiction #911 fanfic #BuckTommy #BuckTommy fanfiction #bucktommywhumpweek #day 6 #whump #whump community #tevan

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