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alchemistc · 3 months ago

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He likes occupying the same space as Tommy. It's - every time he looks across a room and sees him he just wants all the space between them to disappear. And - okay - yeah - Tommy has, like occupied space inside of Buck so there's - there's a little Pavlovian tic somewhere in the goo Tommy's smile can turn his brain into but also -

He likes the way it feels when they're side by side - naked or clothed - and Tommy arches his shoulder to smack it into Buck's. He likes the way his eyes dart, when they're breathing the same air and he's thinking about kissing Buck - which is a look he relishes now as much for the knowledge that he's about to be kissed as for the knowledge that he'd seen this look a half dozen times before they ever got to the kissing part. He likes the way Tommy occupies Buck's space - never overbearing but always close, close, close like if Buck asked they'd melt pieces of themselves and stick them together before everything cooled back down. He likes the way they can't quite hold hands without their arms brushing, and the way Tommy ducks his head when Buck exaggerates a flirty head tilt.

He likes a lot of things about Tommy.

He likes the way he grudgingly enters a gay bar because it's not really his scene and ends the night with a drag queens feather boa wrapped around his neck while he sings the Gaga parts of Shallow even if he gets a little pitchy.

He likes the way Tommy boops his nose, out of the blue while he's listening to Buck explain something that has no bearing on either one of them or the thing they're working towards together - still listening with rapt attention but also a little devastatingly charmed by Buck's rambles, of all things.

He likes the way his nose scrunches up when he laughs, soft and genuine, the way when he's really feeling it the ears draw back too.

He likes the way he sounds, that first time (and every time after) Buck found his prostate and he whined like a fucking siren.

He likes the way his face softens even when he's tired, worn around the edges as Buck flings a sock into his laundry basket and tucks his head up under Tommy's chin.

He hates the way Tommy shuts down every time Buck tries to bring up the future.

And it's not like - it's not like Buck isn't aware they'd sort of speed run some milestones. House keys swapped with the sort of flippancy you'd expect out of two guys whose schedules rarely lined up. A drawer in Bucks's loft for the clothes Tommy always left behind, because for some reason he liked to fling them over the balcony instead of stuff them back in his overnight bag. A toothbrush at Tommy's a month and a half in, which wouldn't be all that strange except for he'd gone out of his way to buy the same electric one Buck had in his bathroom vanity. The pin to each others phones, swapped and repeated until it was muscle memory and three weeks ago Buck had grabbed the wrong phone but he'd seen the lock screen of the two of them from their hike in Fern Dell and he'd punched the code in like it was rote before he'd even been fully awake.

Tommy'd hit a wall, though, the first time Buck brought up his lease. And it wasn't - Buck isn't always the best about understanding the shit going on in his own head, but he actually hadn't been going any particular direction there, it'd just been something to fill the lull that had popped in his head and -

Of course, when Tommy froze the fuck up Buck decided to poke at it like a particularly nasty yellowing bruise.

Kids - not his own, just the nebulous idea of them. (Tommy shifted to a conversation about cars so smoothly it'd taken Buck half an hour to notice.)

Marriage - not his own thoughts about it, just that Bobby and Athena had an anniversary coming up and man didn't it suck that Maddie and Chim never got the wedding they wanted and he'd gone to one once in Montana and it'd been in a barn and they'd had candles in Mason jars for their centerpieces before that was the thing to do. (Tommy booped his nose and scrunched his face and held out a ladle of tomato sauce for Buck to try and - son of a bitch he'd known it needed more acid and that Buck would get distracted with recipe talk.)

Homes - the idea of them. Tommy's century old ranch style rental and how it fit him, Bobby and Athena's hunt for a new home, how quiet Eddie's always felt without Chris there, and Tommy had spent an hour listing off all the things he'd fixed up for his landlady and the rent she'd been stubbornly stuffing back through his mail slot every time she found out exactly how much the labor alone for a full copper repipe cost.

So it's.

He's just.

He hates that he's about to do this, here, with his ankle hooked by Tommy's toes under the table at Micelli's when they're supposed to be enjoying six months but he's been on edge for weeks now and he's - God he wants this to work but if Tommy doesn't want to talk future then are they just gonna spend their whole lives stumbling into the next milestone? He doesn't want -

"I had something I wanted to ask -," Tommy starts, right as Buck opens his big mouth and blurts, "I want kids and that's kind of a deal breaker for me."

Tommy blinks.

Buck blinks back.

Not much better than Hot Chicks, as far as Buck is concerned. But Tommy's mouth quirks at the corners, and he jiggles his toes against the back of Buck's ankle, and -

Tommy blows out a breath. "Oh thank God."

"What?"

So he's -

Buck's confused.

"You've been fishing for months now and I thought you were..." Tommy grimaces. When he leans forward to reach for Buck's hand, his arms are tense and his fingers are clumsy. "I thought we'd gone too fast and you were throwing us in reverse and stepping on the gas."

"What," Buck says again, and rewinds.

Kids: where he'd tried to drop the bomb that there was one out in the world who already had half his genetic code and then blazed along to talk about how Chris was his favorite person in the world and Maddie had struggled with Jee and the whole foster debacle made him terrified of all the stress involved in state sanctioned parenthood.

Marriage: where he'd made some dumb joke about how many marriages ended in divorce and then reminded Tommy how much he hated the fact that weddings cost like a third of a years salary, and then told a horrendous anecdote about the way Eddie had asked Buck to come by one night after Shannon only to find him keyed up out back, with the fire pit going and Shannon's things still tucked into their plastic bag on a stool right next to it.

Home: where he'd told Tommy the house in Hershey was like a prison and he'd never felt more himself than wandering the continent trying to find himself and how the loft was suffocatingly open and of the two places where he always felt welcome, one had burned down and the other had been missing an occupant for so long it had felt sad and oppressive.

Foot in mouth Buckley.

"I brought up my lease and you looked like you were trying to figure out if you could hurdle three tables in one leap to get to the door."

Tommy groans. It's. Buck wants to be annoyed by it but he's charmed as ever.

"That - I did do that."

"So. I'm just. Tommy, I..." Because he's given himself time to think about it, since then, and he really doesn't want to re-up his lease but he's also not sure where to go from here.

"It wasn't what you're thinking, though," Tommy says, and there's a wry tilt to his grin. "Irene wants to sell me the house," he continues, and - there's got to be a point, here.

"Okay."

He likes that house. The lived in feel, the easy walk to a little public market where Buck can always find something healthy and Tommy can always come home with a growler of some new craft beer, the avocado tree in the yard and the renovations Tommy has spent half a decade on.

"When you brought it up I'd just spent two weeks trying to convince myself it was too early to ask you if you wanted to sign up for a mortgage with me."

Six months. A redo of their first embarrassing date. The wine, instead of pitchers of beer. I had something I wanted to ask -

"I want to be married, someday," Buck says, and Tommy's thumb skitters over his wrist. "And - the kid thing. That's still a deal breaker."

Tommy nods. Maybe not a surprise, but - still. That feels important.

"I still don't understand equity," Buck says, and Tommy. Tommy laughs.

"I can teach you," he says, and Buck swallows. He wants to call the waitress over, ask for too many canolli because Tommy's sweet tooth is a tyrant and Buck is still mystified by how he manages to always be so trim despite the amount of sugar he consumes.

Buck narrows his eyes. "How long a mortgage?"

He has a settlement from the city that's just been sitting around, mocking Buck for years. It'd make a good dent even with LA real estate. Tommy smiles. "Oh, 30 years, for sure, but we could refinance at least a few times."

"That's - a long time."

"Housing bubble might pop soon, and then we'd just be stuck in it."

"It's good we both have dependable government jobs."

Tommy's eyes crinkle, but his face gets serious after a moment. "Evan."

"Ask me."

Maddie's gonna fucking flip, Buck thinks. Eddie is definitely gonna give him a side eye. Bobby - Bobby will get it, probably.

Tommy hums. "You wanna share the tiramisu?" His grin is just this side of teasing, and Buck knocks a knee into his in retaliation. His eyes go soft and warm. "You wanna buy a house with me, Buckley?"

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #this isn't spec fic this is self-indulgent fluff LOOSELY inspired #by all the interviews and bts #this is mostly just me wanting a list of things buck likes about tommy

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lacesoflove · 20 days ago

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no sleep for the wicked | hamzah x reader

rating | explicit nsfw content & fluffy

warning | not proofread! really poorly written. somno-ish, possibly?

author’s note | this is actually the first hamzah smut i ever wrote! i forgot about it but found it in the depths of my notes app! thought it’d be cute and fitting to have my first full length fic on this account be the first one explicit work i’ve written for hamzah. inspired by redactedasmr.

w/c: 1.9k

MORNINGS LIKE THIS WERE YOUR TREASURE.

Especially when sunlight filtered in through the blinds, it’s rays horizontally scattered through the room. Behind your body lay half your heart. Your partner, Hamzah. If you had told yourself from a couple months prior to the moment you were in that you’d have him just like this - soaking up your body in the early mornings, post a three hour marathon of love making, filling your shared apartment with ungodly moans - you would’ve scoffed. You were happy with the outcome of though, ultimately. It was nice. He was nice and he thought you were better than nice. Sometimes you felt a guilty that you could never match the love he had for you - but he assured you it wasn’t physically possible for someone to love as much as he loved you.

You could feel him move. His movements were slow and steady as he began to snake his arms under your shirt. He waited , gingerly, for an indication of discomfort from your end - to which there was none - before placing his hand around your boob. You giggled. You always admired how much he always needed you. Needed to hold you, needed to please you, needed to make you laugh - the list could go on endlessly.

“You really love my tits hmm?” You muttered, straining to turn your head over your shoulder to look at the boy. His skin was honeyed by the sunlight as his brown eyes bore lovingly into yours, as if looking past your flesh and into your soul and liking what he found. “Mhm.” He groaned in response.

“‘Mhm’ is all you have to say? Last night you were telling me about how you wanted to suck-” “I know what I said.” He interjected, as he nuzzled into your neck. His curls tickled your collarbone in a way you liked. “-the life out of them.” You finished, a smug smile blossoming on your features. “I’d still suck them.” “Fucking baby.” You giggled softly. “Goo goo gaga.” He sleepily joked, as he began to knead gently at your breasts.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the dumb joke as well simultaneously moan at the sensation which accidentally caused you to buck backwards into his crotch. “Like that?” He asked you, his voice still husky. You couldn’t tell if it was from the typical voice deepening that men usually possessed in the morning or if his voice was hoarse from moaning your name and praise from hours on end. Either way you didn’t care and just wanted to continue to hear his voice. “I like you.” You replied. “I like you too.” “Ooh, someone has a crush.” You teased him. “Sure do.” He replied back.

The room felt into silence, except for the rythmic sound of Hamzah’s hand rolling your flesh, your soft but heavy breaths, the soft sound of the early birds and the cute, yet chaotic, meows of Red and Blue, presumably, play fighting.

You liked the way he was touching you, and the way his left hand had gone from under your body to cup your left breast whilst his other hand had move to your thigh, rubbing circles. The sensation was soothing, causing you to lull back into a gentle sleep, waking up to him pressing soft kisses into your neck, about 10 minutes (according to the little analog clock that Mandy and Martin had gifted for your house warming) later.

“You up now sleepyhead?” He asked you. “Mhm, I fell asleep because the massage was nice.” You whispered. “This feel nice?” He asked you, through a mess of kisses as he began to circle your aerola and tit. This caused you, to, once again, involuntarily buck backwards. “Fuck,” you exclaimed. “That feels good.” “You feel good.” he admitted. You didn’t fully register what he meant until you felt his tented desire pressed against your thigh as you moved backwards again. You could feel him falter due to embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get like this. Having you just pressed like this just gets me going…” he whispered.

“I’m glad I can get you all hot and bothered just from a cuddle session in which I was half asleep.” You assured him, snaking your own hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know, but I just want you to know we don’t have to do anything with it. Especially after last night.”

“…or we can.” You offered. “Baby, no. Last night was a lot. I was a lot on you, and to be honest you genuinely looked like you were going to crumble after your third orgasm and you’re still very obviously burnt out from that. I’m just happy to have you like this, in my arms.”

“Wow Mr Al-Emad turning down sex? Ladies and gentlemen we’ve truly seen it all!” You giggled, voice still groggy with the yearning for sleep. However the small wet patch blooming in your lace panties begged to counteract that yearning.

“Mhm, not even. I just don’t want to push you anymore than I did yesterday.” He whispered against your nape of your neck, his voice sending a little shockwave of desire throughout your body. You melted from the tone of sincerity and care in his voice. “We can still go. Maybe just a bit gentler?” You offerred. “Think about it…” and with that you began to grind against him, and tossed your head back against his shoulder. “Fuck.” he blurted, your actions clouding any prior inhibitions he had. He began to discard of his boxers and thanks to your habit of sleeping pantless, all he had to do was shift your little lace panty to the side. “Shit I think we’re out of condoms.” “I’m on birth control silly.” “I know but-” you gave his hand another squeeze of reassurance. “It’s fine. I want you now, like this.”

He nodded and inserted himself into you. He stayed there for a while, just wanting to enjoy how your pussy felt around his dick without the pressuring urgency to move.

“Fuck-” He blurted. “Fuckfuckfuck. You feel so good. Fuck you always feel good.” You could only breathily laugh in response. “It isn’t funny how someone can look, be and feel so perfect holy shit.” He began to fondle with your breasts again eliciting a string of curses from you as a response. “Baby I need you to move.” You whined desperately. He didn’t need you to repeat that order and began going in and out of you. “You always feel so good for me always.” He moaned.

“Always so good. Always so good f’me, always so ready for my cock, even if it’s at fucking crack dawn in the morning. Such a little slut, just for me.” One thing Hamzah loved about your relationship was the juxtaposition of character that he could only see. How everyone saw you as you as this innocent, cherubic person - but for him? You were this whiny little whore always begging for him. “Say it. Say how much you want this baby.” “I want this so bad.” You muttered, barely audibly between your whimpers . E

verything about seeing you like this and having you like this and his increased libido in the morning caused his body to begin to halt and shudder with the oncoming of his orgasms. His body stuttered, as the last remnants of his seed spilled into you. “That was nice.” You said, placing your hand behind your head to reach for his curls to play with them. “Not finished yet - not until you’ve finished.” He said, as he tried to catch his breath post orgasm.

“Baby it’s fi-” your reassurance was cut off by the sudden movement of him getting up and turning you from your side to being on your back. He dove under your the tail end of your duvet and began pressing kissing up your legs. You could feel like him lick long trails against your leg, taking in the wet mixture of your desire and his seed which was spilling down from your pussy. “Taste so good f’me.” He rasped, planting more kisses against your vanilla scented flesh. He eventually made it to the apple of his eye. Your pussy, which weeped for his touch. He licked a long stripe against it which caused your breath to hitch and your legs to hike. Through the darkness of the blanket, his hand fumbled trying to find yours. He eventually found it and intertwined his hands with yours. For him smaller moments of intimacy, like hand holding or forehead kissing, really were the moments he treasured most. It reminded him that you weren’t just some girl he was hooking up with but you were his and he was yours.

His nose bridge bumped against your wet, puffy clit causing you to thrash, overcome with pleasure. It felt as if you weren’t in your body anymore but rather of a vessel of pleasure to which you never wanted to depart from. He eventually substituted his pussy eating with pushing in two of his fingers inside of your aching pussy. “Fuck, the way you clench around me baby,” he said in a dazed, almost entranced tone. “So fucking soaked for me.” He begins to move his fingers back and forth. The slick of your desire lubricating his prodding fingers. “So fucking wet just for me.” “Just for you.” You manage to muster as a response through your desperate pleas.

Hamzah unclasps his hand for yours and places it over your clit, rubbing against it as he continues to curl his fingers, on his other hand, inside of you.

A rush of ecstasy, a fluttering inside of you and a final oozing of desire and he’s done it - he’s made you cum for the fourth time. He climbs up from under the blanket to meet your face. “You good?” He asks you, with the most shit (or rather pussy) eating grin. You shove his face away from you playfully. “Fuck you. It should be criminal to make me feel that good.”

“Fine! Arrest me, as long as we can arrange a conjugal visit or some shit.” He retorted back to you, his body collapsing next to you. And, in his unconscious desire to always touch you, began to prod at different parts of your body. Your upper arm, your collarbone, your cheek. Anything.

“So even in jail you would wanna fuck me.” “Pretty much.” “Horndog.” “Says the one who released herself from sleep’s grip to get fucked.” You kicked his leg playfully. “Shut up, you’re making me out to be a slut.” “You are one I fear.” he said playfully, however taking a small pause of silence to scan your features for any discomfort at his words. He was never really a fan of calling you words like slut or whore outside of the context of sex. In fact he hated it. You were more akin to the love of his life. You on the other hand, didn’t really mind - you knew that he didn’t view you as one.

“Well the jury’s out and decided that I’m a slut!” You giggled, playfully shrugging. “You’re not just a slut.” “Oh really?” “You’re also going to be my future wife one day.”

“Hmm, you sound sure of it.” “That’s because I am.”

#hamzahthefantastic #hamzah #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzah x reader #hamzahxreader #slushy noobz #slushynoobz #hamzah imagines #hamzahthefanatasticxreader #hamzah smut

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