#i love Bobby too and i miss him

[sadbigemini]

SUPERNATURAL MY BELOVED!!! Sorry, lol... I have some SPN fic prompts today. Let's get started!

What If Dean Winchester Killed John Before The Pilot?

I saw this post talk about how the initial pilot script implied that Dean killed John instead of hunting down Yellow Eyes (Azazel).

And like just imagine!

John 'finally went too far' (Dean's opinion) in his abuse and Dean had to kill him. But he felt guilty even after everything that the bastard did to him and Sammy. And he couldn't be alone bc what is Dean Winchester without family, without a purpose?? 😭

So, he went to Stanford and told Sammy that Dad was on a hunting trip.

WHAT IF SAM KNEW?!?!

What if Sam knew? Whether it be from the moment Dean said something or he figured it out during the first hunt (the White Woman/Weeping Woman).

But he let Dean have his whole charade bc he knew he was working through his guilt or for some other reason??? Idk

Also in the post was during their 'first' meeting Cas was like "Dean Winchester I need you to help me kill my father" and like that can happen too lmao

It would be interesting

⛧

What if John Winchester died instead of Mary Winchester?

!!!

Patchwork Souls (title rec)

John went into the nursery instead because Mary was going to follow through with the deal she made with Azazel.

Mary would still want revenge against the demon though. Especially since she only agreed that she wouldn't enter the nursery and demons are all about technicality. Only when it doesn't apply to themselves apparently (meaning John's entry shouldn't have mattered, Yellow Eyes could have just teleported away).

So, I think she would start hunting again but she would definitely not let her grief control her. Like someone else we know (side-eyes John 😒).

Now I'm going off of Past Mary's personality bc I hate Brought Back Mary (or whatever you wanna call her lol).

Mary raises the boys and still teaches them to hunt but only for self-defense and as a precaution.

She doesn't take Dean on a hunt until he's like sixteen maybe eighteen and only because he wants to. Same with Sam. She also starts them out easy.

Dean definitely would have probably tried hunting on his own tho.

Bobby or Ellen would watch them a lot when Mary went on hunts.

Would that mean that Ellen's husband is still alive??? Whatever you want ig?

She would never leave them alone in a motel until Dean is like at least fourteen. And she would always leave them with enough money. Even if there wasn't quite enough for herself.

But when she wanted to spend some time with her boys she would hand off the case to someone else through Bobby or Ellen.

Jo would be like their little sister and Ash would be like their weird brother lmao

Bobby kinda became like a father figure to Mary and a grandfather like figure to the boys (don't get me started on that while weird relationship in the show please).

Mary makes money by becoming a private detective and solves mostly supernatural crimes. Sometimes it's just cheating husbands.

But when work is slow she works at the Roadhouse for extra cash and also hustles the hunters there.

Bobby/Jody or Jody/Donna??

Dean/Castiel in the future?

Mary encouraged Sam to pursue his dreams of a more normal safe life and becoming a lawyer. She also encouraged Dean's dreams of becoming a hunter even if she wishes he chose a different route.

The story might start with Mary being kidnapped because the demons want the colt? And Dean pulls Sam away from his more apple pie life to find her. Or maybe she went dark because she caught Yellow Eyes’ (Azazel’s) trail?

Maybe she wants to shield her boys from the demon and try to keep them safe?

What about John's deal with Azazel? Would Mary make it instead? Or would that not happen??

⛧

Dad Bobby ♡

Bobby adopts the Winchester boys legally.

When Bobby meets the Winchesters he's reminded of his father and he does something about it.

First he goes to rehab, talks to Dean (first about John not his plan yet, when he does it's a year after Dean was sent to the boy's home), starts getting friendlier with the locals, and asks Ellen and some hunters to help fix up his house. Making it not look so blatantly like a hunter's.

They hide it all in his panic room which he then makes a secret passage to so the social worker won't see it. But he keeps his guns locked up in his room.

He also takes a step back from hunting but still helps from pretending to be a FBI superior to giving hunting advice to finding hunts for others to help research lore. He focuses on his car business.

SPN has so SO many plot holes ranging from big to small so some the ages for certain things have been changed.

So, Dean went to the boy's home at 14 instead of 16. Sam was 10. Sam learned about monsters when he was 8 like in canon. Dean learned about them a little younger maybe. Currently Dean is 15 and Sam is 11???

⛧

The FBI Has A Secret Task Force Of Hunters

Supernatural and Criminal Minds crossover!!

Dean and Sam are forced to join if they don't want to go to jail. They'd also get paid a salary and have more stability. But it throws the Winchester brothers into a whole new world.

They have mandatory therapy and training tho– HA!

They'd also probably have to share their knowledge and train agents. Obviously the BAU is assigned to them.

So, the BAU works with them and gets brought into a whole new world too.

Maybe Bobby joins later and helps recruit more hunters, so they all could get paid or???

The new hunters have to probably pass a psych eval and stuff though, so???

OH MY GOD CHARLIE AND GARCIA!!!! they would bond over their VERY similar pasts and their VERY similar personalities! Dead parents bc of a car crash? Check. Sunshine nerdy personality? Check. Fangirls? Check. Tech geeks who dabbled in the illegal side of things? Check. Bright colors? Check. Fruity? Check.

THERE ARE DIFFERENCES THO SO THAT'S GOOD

Sam and Reid!

DEAN AND MORGAN!!!!

Sam And Emily!!

Sam and JJ!!!

OMG Rossi would uncle the hell out of them and I think Bobby would be jealous lmao but they would probably become drinking buddies.

CAS AND REID!!!!!!!

[jenanigans1207]

What I wanted so badly was for Mary to learn about her boys from Cas. Like that night where Cas finds her when she can’t sleep and she expresses that she just doesn’t know anything about her sons since she missed so much?? All I wanted was for Cas to sit down with her at the table and just start telling her about them. Basic stuff at first: their favorite foods, their sleeping habits, the stuff he’s just observed by being their passenger for years.

And then I want him to say something totally Cas, like “Dean always wears more layers but that’s because his body naturally runs two degrees colder than Sam’s. But that’s normal for him and not indicative of any illness, so it’s nothing to worry about.”

And as they talk, it starts to get a little deeper, and Cas tells her more. He tells her about what she missed, about all the horrible things that happened to her sons and how they coped; how it changed them. And he tells her about Sam, he does, but really it ends up being all about Dean.

He’ll tell her about how Dean clenches his fists when he’s upset, even as he tries to keep his face impassive. About how Dean drums his fingers on the steering wheel when he’s anxious. He’ll tell her about Dean’s nightmares, about the ways he’s chosen to cope. He’ll tell her how to know when to approach Dean and when to give him space, how to gently acknowledge what he’s feeling without pushing him too far.

And with every word he says, Mary’s curious head tilt from when she’d seen them hug in reunion turns into a bone deep type of certainty. Because Cas is telling her things that only someone who paid special attention would notice. He’s telling her things that only someone very, very close to her son’s heart would know.

Cas will tell her the cliff notes of what they’ve been through; will tell her how the whole world looked to Dean and he rose to the occasion over and over again. He’ll tell her about Dean’s doubts in himself and then vehemently declare them as wrong and explain, at length, why. He will tell her about the people Dean has loved— the people who loved him like he was their own— and lost. He will tell her about Bobby, Ellen, Jody, Donna, and Charlie. He’ll tell her about Claire, too, and how Dean stepped up.

And the whole time, Mary will have this realization that oh, she may not have been around to guide and protect her sons, but there was always someone there to care for them and support them when they needed it. She will realize that she and John may have left them, but they were never alone.

But more than that, there was someone there for Dean. Someone picking Dean over and over again while Dean picked Sam, or the world, over himself. There was someone fighting for Dean when he wasn’t fighting for himself. There was someone who saw Dean, and loved him unconditionally.

Sitting across from her, at the asscrack of dawn, filling her in on all the things she missed was every mother’s dream: someone who loved her child with the kind of devotion that would break the world. And from the sounds of the stories she was being told, it did break the world. Someone whose love is entirely untainted and comes without any strings attached.

It’s so clear to her as she listens to Cas talk that Cas loves Dean with no expectations. That loving Dean is something he just does, like he doesn’t know how not to love Dean, like the possibility of not loving him never occurred to Cas. He loves Dean in a way that Mary knows can and will soothe Dean’s sharp edges and battered heart. He loves Dean in the kind of pure way that tells Mary that it will continue to endure and overcome everything without ever diminishing, even the littlest amount.

Mary, through tears, will tell Cas how she always told Dean that there were angels watching over him. And before Cas can make some comment about Dean being the Righteous Man and the interest of most of Heaven, she will place a hand over his and give him a motherly look that will convey all the things she’s not sure how to say— and the things she’s not sure Cas is ready to hear yet. And Cas will flush and look away, mumbling about how her son is very special to him.

And when she pulls him into a hug and murmurs thank yous into his shoulder, she will be comforted in the knowledge that her sons turned out to be wonderful men, and that they managed to stay together through everything. She will be comforted to know that no matter what happens, no matter her shortcomings as she tries to fill a role she never meant to leave, Sam will have Dean and Dean will have Cas.

And this time, when Cas tells her that she belongs here, she will believe him. And she will tell him that he belongs here, too.

And when Dean wakes up a few hours later and wanders in to find Mary and Cas still chatting over the table, he’ll be surprised— but pleased— to find Mary looking more at ease. He’ll be pleased when she gives him a warm hug and pats him on the cheek and tell him with all the sincerity that only a mother can muster that she’s glad that he met Castiel. And when Dean agrees, a little confused, Mary will just smile at him.

“I always said I’d like a third son.” She says, “so give him a reason to take our last name, won’t you?”

And Dean will splutter and turn fifteen shades of red as he steadfastly doesn’t look at Cas but mumbles something that suggests he’s not against the idea at all.

And Mary will laugh again and wink at an equally red Cas before heading towards the kitchen like “Cas said waffles are your favorite, so I hope you’re hungry!”

[chronicowboy]

thinking about a welcome home party for eddie and chris where buck knows he's in love with eddie. trying to attach himself to christopher's side because they've always used that kid as a feelings buffer (and if buck thinks about that for too long he'll lose his motherfucking mind) and it just makes sense because chris was gone longer than eddie but chris is a teenager now and he missed denny and he's perpetually embarrassed by adult affection so he suffers it for a little while before slipping away to play video games with denny. and then buck is dodging eddie every possible way he can, waiting on pregnant maddie hand and foot, helping bobby in the kitchen, tom cruising it up behind the bar for hen and karen (and eddie), cleaning up messes, taking food and drinks to chris and denny, playing with jee and mara, anything and everything possible to not get stuck alone with eddie because he just can't. and he ducks outside when the whirlwind gets a little too much, when he catches eddie's eye across the room and sees nothing but overwhelming fondness with this little hint of sad understanding, and he just needs a breather. but then the door opens and closes behind him and a warmth as familiar to him as his own body settles beside him and they just breathe together for a moment before eddie jokes that he thought buck'd be happier to see him. and buck can't really joke, not about this, so he tells him that he missed him like a lung and he's just getting used to breathing again. and eddie asks why buck's avoiding him. and buck just whispers "i don't think i know how to be around you anymore". and eddie says "i don't think i know how to be without you, so we should probably figure that out". and buck looks up at him with big, wide eyes and eddie's looking back at him with nothing but certainty in his eyes.

[dearsnow]

12:29 AM

- your normally sober husband comes home drunk out of his mind after a party, and you can’t say that he’s any less sweet. (robert “bob” floyd x wife!reader, fluff, honestly one of the cutest things i’ve ever written, ⚠️ obviously heavy themes of alcohol and being drunk, sexual innuendos but nothing graphic)

word count: 1,502

a/n - i haven’t written a fic with a timestamp as the title in… (checks old blog) over three years?!? in any case, i hope you guys like drunk!bobby as much as i do <3 he’s definitely an emotional/clingy drunk imo.

It’s not often that your husband stays out late, and it’s not often that he doesn’t text you while he’s out, but you trust him. He’s not the type to get blackout drunk or come home stumbling through the doorframe. Robert Floyd is a clearheaded and strong man.

Well, he looks neither right now, as he’s supported by Jake and Javy’s arms, glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose and a dopey smile brightening his face. Jake looks at you apologetically— as apologetic as he can get for a situation that’s likely his fault. “Sorry, hun.” He huffs, shifting around Bob’s weight. “There were a few too many fruity drinks ordered, and I guess he didn’t realize they were full of alcohol.”

“You guess?” You ask, rubbing the space between your eyebrows with your fingers. The two more sober men lead Bob into your bedroom, half-dragging him. They lay him down on your shared bed with a softened thump that has him groaning on top of the sheets. “I can’t believe you guys.”

Bob went out with the rest of the squad for some coworker’s promotion celebration, and he promised to come home perfectly sober, as always. He doesn’t even need to promise, if you’re being honest, because that’s just how he is; the most levelheaded person in the room. He would stay until it was socially acceptable for an acquaintance to leave, then he would head home and help you cook dinner to your favorite old school tunes. You never expected to see him shitfaced at 12:29 AM.

Javy shakes his head as he steps around you, taking Jake for a clean escape. “We tried to warn him. I hope he feels better in the morning, but until then, we’re gonna have to leave him with you.”

You sigh, eyebrows just as pinched as they were before. For the first time ever, you’re scared that Bob is going to die in his sleep, and the thought frustrates you to no end. “Thanks. It’s so great that he’s drunk out of his mind, but I have to give you credit for getting him here in one piece.” Your tone is sarcastic enough to get the two men cringing in shame, but you also know that without them, he might still be at that party.

Jake pats you on the shoulder. “Good luck, soldier. You’ll need it.”

With that, Javy and Jake walk out of your bedroom, past your living room, and out of your house like they couldn’t wait to leave. As you hear them close the door, you look down at your husband.

He’s still conscious, thankfully. His eyes are slightly unfocused, he’s blushing like a madman, and he’s groaning lightly, but he’s not completely gone yet. You brush the damp hair away from his forehead and he whines just a bit.

“Wife.”

You quirk your eyebrow in confusion. “Yes?”

“I… have a wife. Y’ can’t touch me like that.” He mumbles. It feels like he’s looking past you. Despite everything, you feel like laughing.

You adjust his glasses on his face and lean over him a little more, fully in his field of vision. “I am your wife.”

His eyes widen like he’s seeing you for the first time, and he smiles crookedly. He tries to sit up, but only manages to prop himself up on one arm as he takes in the sight of your face. “S’ pretty. You’re really my wife? My girl?” In combination with the slurred words of someone down in the cups, the slight southern accent he took so much time to push away is coming back as he speaks to you.

“Yes.” You confirm, kissing him on the cheek. He somehow smiles even wider and reaches out to touch the apples of your cheeks.

“Love you. I missed you.” He mumbles. “Spent that whole party wonderin’ when I could see you again.” He flops back down onto the springy mattress, throwing his arms up. He moves with the precision of a toddler, his limbs seemingly coated in lead. He almost smacks the glasses off his face as he motions to you with grabby hands.

“I missed you too, honey. Can we get you into your pajamas? I’m sure you don’t want to sleep in jeans and a polo.” As you ask that question, his fingers are already attempting to pull the shirt off of his body. It doesn’t work very well, considering he’s still laying down, but you appreciate the effort. “Sit up, my love.”

He sits up, winking at you heavily. It’s more like a slow blink with how long it takes him to do it. “Can’t wait to get me naked?”

A laugh escapes your mouth, and you smother the rest of your giggles with the heel of your palm as you gaze at his slightly crestfallen face. He’s funny when drunk, apparently, even when he isn’t trying to be. It’s like seeing him completely unhinged with none of his usual, careful filters. “Sure. You need to be in some state of undress to get your pajamas on, anyways.”

His face falls into a slight pout as you help him unbutton the top of his polo and slide it up his chest. He seems to notice how your hands hesitate when meeting the warm, taut skin of his abs, and the pout fades instantly. “Like it?”

“I always do.” You hum. He does have a great body, one that you’ve found to be extraordinarily hot. Strong arms, tight muscles, and yet a gentleness in the way his hands hold yours. Right now, though, it’s a bit of a problem as you’re attempting to get his jeans off. He’s still sitting, and you think you could lift weights for ten years and not be able to pull them out from under him. “Can you stand, Bobby?”

“Gladly.” He sings. You help him stand, supporting a bit of his weight. He seems to find a little bit of his footing as his other arm presses into the wall, allowing the both of you to shimmy his pants down his legs and kick them to some unknown corner of the room.

You gather his neatly folded pajamas, a soft shirt and some plaid flannel pants, and help him put them on. Luckily for you, he’s been revitalized by your touch and is a little more helpful now. He’s still moving awkwardly and shifting around like he’s constantly trying to get his balance straightened out, but it’s better than nothing. It would be hell to get him to do anything other than dress, though, so you settle for just getting him in bed. His dental hygiene routine will have to wait.

You lay him back down after he’s dressed and pull the blankets up to his chin, kissing his forehead gently and tucking his glasses in your dresser drawer. You’re already ready for the night (the perks of thinking he would come home three hours ago), so you slip in bed next to him. He immediately pulls you into his arms, his body comfortingly warm. He’s always run just a little hot, which is amazing on cooler nights like this.

He sighs contentedly before moving to stare directly into your eyes. “Y’know,” he starts, “I can’t sleep without your arms ‘round me, and your legs ‘round me, and you breathing all sweet on my neck. ‘M up all night when I’m deployed, at first anyways. My carrier roommates hate it.”

You shift just enough as to where your body is clutching on to him as tight as possible, and he hums in relief. It’s like the little tension that he was holding dissipated entirely. “I’m sorry, baby. That must be hard.” You soothe.

“Payback gave me his pillow once so I could wrap it in my arms, but it didn’t help. He threatened to ‘come up there n’ cuddle me himself’ if I didn’t stop moving.” He scrunches his eyes closed at the memory. You do your best to suppress another bout of laughter, but he makes it even harder when he shivers like he isn’t covered in three layers of blankets and you.

“Did he ever follow through?” You ask, pressing your lips together to stop from smiling. Bob shakes his head.

“Thank god he didn’t.” He utters. You turn to shove your face into your pillow to muffle your expressions. He just keeps his eyes closed, completely unaware of the fact that you’re losing it next to him.

When you finally come up for air, he is drifting in and out of sleep. “Love ya. G’night.” He whispers. It’s so soft that you almost start laughing again.

“Good night, Bobby. Love you too.” You say, kissing his cheek. You click off the lamp on your bedside table and snuggle deeper into his grasp.

He’s going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning. At least he’ll have his wife, breakfast in bed, and an aspirin to take care of him.

Taglist: @seitmai

[wendichester]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ not ready yet²,

summary. you’ve been keeping your pregnancy from dean and he doesn’t take it well.

pairing. dean winchester x reader ; angsty but fluff

wordcount. 793

notes. @fullbelieverheart wrote: "I would love a second part where the protagonist decides to take her things and leave and when Dean returns to the motel room with an apology and a stupid teddy bear from some gas station to tell her that he is on board and that he is sorry, he no longer sees her , and then Dean have to look for Her. He goes crazy because he doesn't find her until a few weeks later."

⋆˚࿔ read part 1

The motel room is empty when Dean gets back.

His heart stutters in his chest, his breath catching as he glances around, expecting to see you curled up on the bed, maybe still pissed, maybe still crying, but there.

But you’re not.

Instead, the room looks eerily untouched, like you were never there to begin with. The duffel you always kept in the corner is gone. Your flannel—the one you always stole from him—is missing from the chair. Even your toothbrush isn’t in the bathroom anymore.

Panic rises in his throat, clawing its way up like bile. He just needed a minute. Some air. Some time to get his head on straight. And when he did—when he finally stopped being such a goddamn coward—he had stopped at some shitty gas station, grabbed the dumbest-looking teddy bear he could find, and practiced over and over how he was going to say he was sorry.

But he’s too late.

You’re gone.

“Shit,” Dean breathes, his hands shaking as he pulls out his phone. He dials your number, pacing as the line rings once. Twice. Then—

“The number you have dialed is unavailable.”

“Come on,” he mutters, redialing.

Nothing.

His stomach drops.

His keys are in his hand before he even thinks about it, the motel door slamming behind him as he peels out of the parking lot in the Impala.

You couldn’t have gotten far. You had no car, no real plan—right?

Right?

But days pass. Then weeks.

And he can’t find you.

You’re off the grid, completely vanished. No one’s seen you. No credit card charges, no motel check-ins. You’re just gone.

Dean doesn’t sleep. He barely eats. He checks every place he can think of—old hunting buddies, friends from past cases, even Bobby’s old contacts. But no one has a damn clue where you are.

And that kills him.

Because he knows this is his fault. He did this. He made you feel like you had no choice but to leave.

And the worst part?

You’re out there alone.

When he finally finds you, it’s been forty-two days.

A tiny roadside diner, middle of nowhere, off some highway he wouldn’t have even checked if he hadn’t been running on pure desperation.

And there you are. Sitting at the counter, a cup of tea in front of you, staring down at the table like you’re lost in thought.

Dean barely breathes as he pushes open the door, the bell above it jingling. The place is quiet, just a few truckers scattered around, but Dean doesn’t see anyone else. He only sees you.

You glance up when he steps forward, and the second your eyes meet, something inside Dean cracks open so hard it nearly knocks the wind out of him.

Because you look different. Tired. Worn out. Maybe a little paler. And he knows why.

Because you’ve been doing this alone.

And you never should’ve had to.

“Sweetheart,” he breathes, stepping closer, his hands shaking at his sides.

You tense, your fingers curling around your mug. “What are you doing here, Dean?”

“I’ve been looking for you,” he says, voice thick. “For weeks.”

You don’t say anything. Just watch him, eyes unreadable.

Dean swallows hard. “I screwed up,” he says, his voice raw. “I got scared and I lashed out, and you didn’t deserve that. You don’t deserve that.”

You shift slightly in your seat, your jaw tightening, but you still don’t say a word.

So, Dean digs into his jacket pocket, pulling out something small and slightly crushed. A stupid, beat-up teddy bear from a gas station, worn from weeks of being shoved in and out of his pocket, carried around like some goddamn lifeline.

He sets it on the counter in front of you.

Your breath catches.

“I was supposed to give this to you that night,” he admits. “Along with an apology. And a promise.”

You blink, looking at the bear, then back at him. “A promise?”

“That I’m in this,” Dean says, voice shaking now. “That I want to be in this. With you.” He exhales sharply, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I know I messed up. I know I don’t deserve another chance, but, sweetheart, I swear to you—if you let me come home with you, I will spend every damn day proving to you that I’m in this for real.”

For a long moment, you don’t speak. Just stare at him, searching his face, like you’re waiting for him to crack or take it back.

But he won’t. He can’t.

And when your lip finally trembles and you let out a shaky breath, he knows he’s got you.

Because you want to believe him.

And God help him, but he’s never going to let you down again.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystemss ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @funkenniffler ⋆ @lovewolfspirit ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @KayleighWinchester ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @cursednevermore ⋆ @lmg14 ⋆ @onelonelybitch

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

random percy headcanons:

wants to be the photographer friend SO bad and he technically is but like 70% of the pics come out blurry or weird bc there was a monster attack in the middle of them. his instagram is truly so chaotic looking.

literally always has seashells on him someone will ask him for a pencil or spare change and he has to empty all his pockets of shells to find it. drops his backpack and a bunch of shells fall out. kicks his shoes off and sand and shells fly out and his mortal friends are like percy What the Fuck

his eyes glow underwater!! bioluminescent king. no one told him though and he didn't find out until he joined his school's swim team and terrified everyone (he managed to convince them his contacts were having a weird reaction to chlorine lmao)

he really likes art!! he doesn't just pretend to for rachel's sake he genuinely enjoys painting with her. he likes splatter paint, collages and pop art styles the best. one day after splitting some edibles they realized percy could manipulate water colors and went CRAZY with it

will ask to be excused during class and comes back like an hour later with scorch marks all over his face bleeding from one of his ears covered in dust missing three fingernails rips in his jeans and a fat lip and the teacher is like percy what the actual hell were you doing in the bathroom all this time and he's just like uhhhhhh I have ibs

the brand from camp jupiter did unfortunately (for sally) Unlock something in him lmfao he keeps getting shitty little tattoos. usually stick-n-poke but someone's friends cousin's girlfriend's brother has a gun that gets brought to parties every now and then. most of them are sloppy but you can tell what they are HOWEVER he has one that was supposed to be a seal that came out looking like one of those shitty ms paint crying memes. annabeth laughed at him for ten minutes straight when she saw it.

he wanted to dye his hair blue but he was too chicken to bleach his entire head so he just did the tips. his hair is curly though so it looks absolutely ridiculous but he loves it

percy and annabeth get a crusty little yappy white dog in college and he carries it around like a baby lmao

back to his chaotic instagram, he's got so many pics of him like, relaxing at the bottom of the mariana trench or hugging a giant squid or riding on a whale shark and his mortal friends all think he's just really good at photoshop and this is a very specific bit he decided to commit to. they're always like lol percy where do you even FIND these pictures are you subscribed to like scientific journals for the laughs? but no he just took them all on his shell phone

has an ongoing prank war with annabeth's little brothers bobby and matthew but like it's Unhinged. they're playing 5D chess and she has no idea whats going on

weird tshirts!!! he loves them! like

shit like this or those 'women want me fish fear me' shirts, anything with a funny or incomprehensible slogan is going in his closet right along with his band tees lmfao

bought estelle a panda pillow pet when she was born 🥺

can NOT bring himself to eat seafood no matter how many times poseidon has told him its fine. he's like NO these are my FRIENDS JONATHAN WAS TELLING ME ABOUT HIS GRANDDAUGHTERS WEDDING LITERALLY YESTERDAY WHY IS HE ON A PLATTER DAD. they had to give up and just start eating normal land food at the palace every time he comes to visit lmfao

gets into horsegirl antics with hazel she NEEDS to know everything the horses have to say. they spend hours gossiping in the stables.

movie nights in the poseidon cabin were 10000% a thing and when he was missing annabeth and thalia and grover (and a few others) would still sleep in there every now and then and talk about how much they miss him :(

percy and beckendorf had the worlds most elaborate handshake

he DOES impulse buy stuff just because they're ocean-themed. stuffed animals, home decor, school supplies, clothes, you name it he bought it if theres like a fish on it

has more scars from crashing off his skateboard than he does from monster attacks

grover is somehow the only person who's ever noticed percy is severely claustrophobic

has a deep passion for adele. I can't explain this one I just feel and know it to be true.

he and annabeth both proposed to each other at the same time and they were SO mad about it they kept yelling over each other's speeches lmao

he can SING but he doesn't know it. sally keeps trying to record him singing to himself but something always happens to the camera and she loses the evidence

called chiron a brony one time and mr d thought it was so funny he was nice to percy for an entire week

the camp keeps trying to convince him to teach sword fighting lessons to the younger kids but he can NOT bring himself to swing a sword at a 9 year old so he keeps getting injured

has the most complicated iced coffee order in the world his go-to local coffee shop finally just put the damn drink on the menu and named it after him

he IS the quiet kid in the back of your math class that always has his hood up to try and hide his headphones and eats increasingly elaborate meals out of his backpack when the teacher isn't looking. one time someone caught him with a rotisserie chicken in the middle of a geometry final.

he argued that he DID have enough to share with the class

currently obsessed with the image of him knocking back a container of sea salt as if it was a shot and his mortal friends being like hey! what the actual fuck! and he's just like uhhhhh anemia kills!

its his birthday<3

[nkplanet]

UNCONDITIONAL [uhn-kuhn-dish-uh-nl] adjective. not limited by conditions; absolute

sam x fem!reader ft. dean cw suggestive, little bit of angst, set sometime in the early seasons bc i love baby sam, reader is shorter than sam, switch sam my beloved wc 1014

summary sam can’t get enough of you notes whiny sam ib this scene from house of wax

when dean had left the two of you alone in a motel room for the night, he hadn’t imagined he’d wake up to sam alone and miserable.

and yet, there he was.

“where’s-”

“she’s gone, dean,” his brother had huffed, “long gone.”

he hadn’t prodded any further. you were one of sam’s many soft spots. a hunter yourself, you knew the risks of getting close to people. sam had thought that with both of you being hunters it would offer some reprieve, would allow you to open up to him and begin something, anything. he was almost desperate for you, but you left anyway, claiming it was too dangerous.

of course, he knew that most hunters isolated themselves. bobby and gordon sprang to mind immediately.

still, he had hope.

you saw each other again some months later. this time, you’d helped the boys on a case, sticking around long enough for sam to get to know you somewhat better. it frustrated him to no end that he couldn’t get further than the walls you’d built up, but he understood.

you hadn’t spent the night together the way you had three times before then, instead parting ways at sundown with a kiss that could have rivalled romeo and juliet. sam was addicted to your lips, your eyes, your body. you weren’t faring any better; sam’s body on yours and the noises he made played on your mind constantly.

and then: radio silence. once again.

even dean was beginning to worry about you. you normally checked in with them, especially after a tough case, but they’d heard nothing for weeks upon weeks.

that was, until you showed up at their motel door.

dean had ushered you in out of the rain immediately after taking the necessary precautions (read: splashing you with holy water). you were tired, a little bloodied, and soaked to the bone, but otherwise okay. he sat you on a bed and brought you a towel, allowing you a moment of peace before he threw questions at you.

“you’ve had sammy worry sick, y’know,” he said, giving you yet another once over.

“i know, i’m sorry. i’ve been on a long hunt. no cell service for weeks,” you said, wringing out your hair.

“and?”

“a werewolf clan. six of them. had to pick them off one by one and the last one chased me here. i killed it on the border of town and by then i had nothing. no supplies other than the clothes on my back and weapons in my hand and god knows what in my pockets,” you explained.

dean whistled. “so how’d you find us?”

“i called-” you started, as the door swung open. you tensed, immediately relaxing the second you saw a mop of brown hair atop a lanky frame.

“sammy,” you whispered.

sam’s head snapped to you, which dean took as his cue to leave.

“hey,” you said lamely, standing.

“where have you been?” sam said immediately. you could tell he was torn between being mad at you for disappearing and worried at your complete absence from the world.

“a hunt. it’s a long story. i had no cell service for two weeks,” you said, stood stock still. you didn’t want to startle the man in front of you, instead letting him come to you.

“i’ve missed you,” he all but whispered, closing the distance between you and putting his hands on your waist.

“i’m sorry,” you replied. he leaned down to kiss you, one hand coming up to cradle your neck.

your lips met, beginning slow but soon moving towards something more like hungry. you’d been starved of each other for too long, and sam didn’t intend to let you go this time. he chased your lips as you backed away for air, moving once again to the bed.

“that one’s dean’s,” sam said against your lips, directing you to his own bed. you giggled, making your way over and allowing sam to sit on his bed. you stood inbetween his legs, craning your neck down a little to kiss him more.

he slipped his tongue in your mouth, pulling you impossibly closer to him. you ran your hands across his broad shoulders, down his toned chest, as his own danced up and down your back, occasionally reaching your ass. he moved back towards the headboard, pulling you onto his lap. you straddled his thighs with your own, practically crawling to him. you looked down at him through half-lidded eyes as he looked at you, nothing but adoration on his face. you leaned in once more, connecting again.

sam’s hands travelled further, spreading across your waist and against your stomach, settling eventually underneath your thighs. yours migrated down, feeling his abs and oh so carefully brushing his obvious erection. at that, sam let out a whine, which he tried to stop almost immediately. you smirked at him.

“haven't heard that one before,” you said, teasing him.

he rolled his eyes playfully. “yeah, well, i was on top last time.”

“maybe we should do this more often then.”

sam’s response was to pull you in again, to which you let out a gasp, making him smile into the kiss. he ran his hand through your hair and you moaned, at which point dean chose to enter the room again.

“c’mon guys, i don’t wanna see that shit,” he complained dramatically, covering his eyes.

you sighed and rolled off sam’s lap. he pulled a pillow onto it in your place to hide the bulge in his jeans.

“don’t just barge in like that then,” sam retorted, obviously annoyed at his brother.

“‘s not my fault you two chose to get it on in our shared motel room!”

you rolled your eyes at their bickering, leaning down to get the towel you’d forgotten the minute you saw sam and using it to dry your hair. looking over at sam, you knew it would be hard to leave him again. you couldn’t stay forever - all three of you knew that - but maybe this time you could stay for longer.

[attapullman]

Pretend | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: You aren't sure what's worse: having to share a bed with the boy who was your first boyfriend who you haven't seen in years, or having to pretend he's your boyfriend when you wish he actually was.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: f!reader, light smut, 18+ only as always, unprotected pinv, fake dating trope, one bed trope, lots of switching between present and past tense whoops

A Note From Mo: It's Choose-a-Fic! Thank you to everyone who voted and has been part of my 500 Follower milestone! Hopefully you like the fic I wrote just for you (with a little extra one bed trope as a special thank you)! 😘

Coupe glasses tinkle and laughter rings out as the rehearsal dinner draws toward an end. Everyone’s had a little too much of the hotel’s signature white sangria. On your left, Isabel and Reuben are frozen in blissed smiles, the outdoor lights casting an ethereal glow. An idyllic night before the wedding.

You should be relaxed. You’ve had a little wine, the most delicious dinner, and tomorrow your college roommate is getting married at this stunning resort. But every time that big hand grazes your shoulder or his breath heats the skin of your cheek, you’re reminded none of this is real and you desperately wish it was.

The only difference between six-year-old Robert Floyd and the man standing in front of you is the broad shoulders. Those pink cheeks are just as prominent and his eyes are wide behind updated corrective frames. Sandy hair politely brushed off his face. Even his thin lips warp in that same warm smile that instantly relieves tension. The only significant difference is those shoulders that fill out the entire doorway as he checks his rooming assignment with Isabel.

From where you stand behind her, suitcase in tow, you feel your cheeks warm and your gaze drop. You haven’t seen him since the engagement party where you muttered, “it’s a small world after all” more than once. It seemed all too coincidental that your college roommate would be marrying a guy who just happens to be in the same Navy squadron as your first grade boyfriend. 

To be fair, you had “dated” Bobby Floyd for a total of a week before your parent’s divorce landed you on the opposite side of the country. There hadn’t even been a formal breakup. He’d simply been the guy you jokingly referred to as your “first love” at wine nights. Occasionally you remembered his collection of vintage Coke bottle caps. 

He was practically a figment of your imagination until Isabel introduced you to the man in the nicely ironed pale blue button down and you sputtered out that you already knew each other.

You’re so lost in how bizarre the coincidence of it all is that you zone out through Bob’s check-in and the next few guests that arrive. It’s not until her line of relatives has dwindled that she remembers you’re sat behind her, sorting out the favors for after the reception. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I should have given you your card earlier!” she apologizes as she flips back over her clipboard to find your room number. It’s all forgiven, you were waiting to finish up your bridesmaid duties before checking in. Get the work out so you can slip on your bathing suit and enjoy the amenities - pool, sun, and cabana boys - before dinner tonight.

She hands you a room card and walks you through the map of the hotel. You miss the second half while gathering up all your items, mentally trying to remember exactly how many rights before a left. Dinner is at seven and anything else surely she will remind you. With a kiss to her cheek, you head off to your room to begin the fun part of this destination wedding.

The property is stunning, all sun-washed sandstone and lush tropical plants. Deep blue terry cloth draped over the sun loungers you would live on all weekend. Some sun to compliment what should be a flawless wedding weekend. Maybe you’d get lucky and one of Reuben’s hot Navy friends would join you for some eye candy. You deserved a little one-weekend-in-paradise romance.

Suite 4. It’s a little deflating to remember that you’re in this big suite alone because all the other bridesmaids have dates. A least you have some privacy. The intricately carved door accepts your room key and you push the heavy wood open, ready to change and relax.

W-why was Bob in your villa?

Standing amongst the floor-to-ceiling windows draped with ochre that overlook the ocean, white oak furnishing topped with plush linen bedding, and a trailing pothos overtaking the wall, was Bob Floyd - right in the middle of changing his shirt. Equally wide eyes taking you in as he held the bunched heathered grey cotton right in front of his head, thumbs through the head hole, mouth open in shock.

“What are you doing in here?”

What was he doing in here? This was your room. “Why are you in my room?”

Despite knowing he’s not in the wrong, his cheeks tinge a deep pink. Takes a moment to pop his head in the hole of his shirt and brush out the wrinkles. You cling to to the annoyance of him interrupting your afternoon instead of focusing on how toned he’s gotten as an adult.

“This is my room. Suite 4. See?” He holds up a card identical to yours, the glossy ‘4’ reflecting the sunlight. The same ‘4’ that looks back at you. 

Clearly there’s been some sort of mistake, someone at reception accidentally typing in the wrong number while going about their busy day or Isabel reading her meticulous list wrong. An easy fix. 

You bite your lip. “Oh. Maybe I grabbed the wrong card. I’ll go find Isabel and sort it out.”

“I’ll come with you, she might have handed me the wrong card. Probably supposed to be sharing a bed with Fanboy.” He’s impossibly sweet as always. 

You have no idea who or what a Fanboy is, but you accept his company back to reception, leaving your bag in the room purely because the bridesmaid dress alone weighs a half ton. The walk back there - with a few long turns - is a tad awkward as you both walk in silence, occasionally jerking your heads in the direction to turn.

Isabel has wandered away from reception, and is now soaking in one of the poolside bars with Reuben, their lovesick smiles contagious. She gives you the warmest smile when you approach, face splitting in two as she takes in your companion. “Hey, you two! You get settled in okay?”

God, this is awkward. Thankfully before you can muster the courage, Bob steps in. “I think there’s been a mix up with one of our rooms.”

Her eyebrows furrow as takes in what he said. Eyes flit to her lounger where her clipboard of rooming assignment lies within her tote. Reuben sips his frozen margarita in casual interest, not involved in the logistics.

“Which room are you in?” Even without her clipboard, Isabel is pretty sure she knows who is in what room. She spent months perfecting these details.

You hold up the glossy ‘4’, now slightly sticky with your sweat.

“Four? Hmm, I’m pretty sure that’s right. Was there a problem with the key? Both your keys?”

You give her a bewildered look. “One of us has the wrong key. We’re not sharing a room.”

“Why not? Your prude parents aren’t here to care if you share a room with your boyfriend.”

Every muscle in your body freezes. What is she talking about?

And while you’re paralyzed on the spot, Reuben looks like he’s about to throw up the margarita. Because he knows exactly what just happened. And not only is it his fault, but he does not have a solution.

Before you can question Isabel, the pilot is throwing his arm around your shoulders and grabbing Bob’s elbow, whisking you two away, calling out to his confused fiancée not to worry, he’s got it handled. The controlled hands of a fighter pilot steering you back in the way of Suite 4 while his face reads like he’s watching a plane crash.

Reuben won’t answer any of your questions, holding up a palm while you sputter out the who, what, where’s? of what is going on. Bob silently allows himself to be directed, confusion upon his brow, but patient enough to wait for an explanation. 

Once you’re privately within the confines of Suite 4, the soft scent of bergamot and sandalwood wrapped around your bodies, Reuben finally confesses his mistake.

“Isabel thinks you two are dating.”

You expect to see eyeballs on the floor from how violently they pop out of your head. What? Bob doesn’t look much better. You two have barely spoken in decades, let alone are in a relationship! Why in the hell would Isabel think that?

Reuben drags a hand down his face, wishing he was back in the pool drinking. “When Bob over here told me that you two dated way back, I casually mentioned it to Is. When she asked the other week if he’d be good sharing a room, I thought she meant Fanboy or Harvard.”

You skip over the fact that Bob has talked about you to other people to focus on the details. “She meant me.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” By this point he’s rubbing the skin on the back of his neck raw, eyes wildly desperate. “Can you two share? It’s only two nights.”

Your eyes meet ocean blue as you both look at the single bed, then at each other. Bob intervenes calmly. “Why can’t you just tell her we need another room?”

Reuben crosses his arms across his chest, suddenly defensive. “We don’t have any other rooms. We booked the place out entirely. Short of Aunt Muriel keeling over, one of you would have to be at another hotel.”

“That’s fine,” you quip, grabbing your suitcase and ready to get the hell out of this situation.

“There’s nothing within a half hour drive. And you’re both in the wedding, that is not going to fly with Isabel.”

You’re tough, you can do hard things. Two nights at a gorgeous resort where you have to share a king-sized bed with the sweetest man on the planet? Could be so much worse. From a look at Bob’s face, he’s having the same realization.

And right as you’re about to tell Reuben that it’s not a big deal, he sends in the clincher. 

“You’re also gonna have to pretend you’re dating.”

“You’re joking.” Your tinny voice rings out in the room. You can do a lot of things - go to a wedding alone, sleep in the same bed as Bob - but you draw the line at pretending you’re dating someone you hadn’t seen until an engagement party six months ago. Nope, no way.

You look at Bob, standing with his hand resting low on his hip, watching this entire scene unfold. Giving him an expectant look, he smooths out his face and gives you a little nod. He’s on whatever team you’re on.

And just as you were about to tell Reuben to get lost, Isabel’s sweet face floods your mind’s eye. That happy smile she always greets you with, and her dismay that something had gone wrong with your room. Her perfectly planned out wedding weekend ruined by her misunderstanding a minor detail. She would insist that you have separate rooms, even if it interfered with plans, and she’d be upset - the smallest tinge of disappointment clouding her bridal smile.

Isn’t the job of a bridesmaid to make the bride not have disappointment?

And now, sitting here at the rehearsal dinner, warm conversation all around you, you can still hear yourself let out a large huff of breath and agree. “Alright, we can pretend for the weekend.”

It’s a decision you stand by, but doesn’t make the subtle way Bob has been playing your boyfriend the last 24 hours any easier. He plays devoted partner a little too well. Carrying your beach bag down to the water that afternoon when everyone wanted to sit by the pool, sweetly rubbing sunscreen into that spot on your back that you can never reach. Grabbing a drink for you when he went up to the bar. 

Your lonely wedding weekend is suddenly filled with this broad-shouldered Navy man who gives you a shy smile every time you make eye contact.

There wasn’t time to put in ground rules before Reuben threw you you to the wolves to socialize with the rest of the wedding party. When Isabel saw you, standing a healthy foot away from Bob and her sculpted eyebrow raised, it was the first test of this “relationship”. Your heart slamming in your chest as you slipped a hand around that thick bicep and rested your hot cheek against his shoulder. His own face fighting anxiety as he allowed you to set the pace. Isabel’s smile brightening as she beckoned you closer, instantly fawning over the two of you and the way Bob’s hand fits a little too nicely around your waist.

Thankfully the copious amount of relatives and friends constantly interrupting Isabel and Reuben prevented your friend investigating too close into this development in your love life. Happy to believe over some intentionally placed hands and the casual way he throws sweetheart in when asking if you want a drink.

“Now that I have you alone, why didn’t you tell me you were together? First loves reunited?!” Isabel drags you away to the other bridesmaids, Bob giving you a small wave as he joins the men. 

You shrug, making a show of looking at the hibiscus to avoid her eyes. Desperate for a believable lie. “I didn’t want to…uh, distract from your big day?”

She wraps you in a warm hug you don’t deserve. “Not distracting in the slightest. He’s the best, you’re so lucky!”

You throw a glance his way, watching his good-natured grin as Reuben’s groomsmen, mostly aviators he’s worked with over the years, joke and jostle on the other side of the lawn. It’s side glances like these that carry through the night; when he pulls your chair out for dinner, asks the waiter to refill your water, and offers you half of his dessert. When your eyes do meet, you drown in the twin oceans that twinkle back at you.

By the time you’re heading back to Suite 4 to share that big bed, you’re pretty sure you’re not pretending to like him anymore.

You’re regretting not putting up the pillow barrier Bob so kindly offered to set up. It seemed childish at the time - you didn’t need a divider to stay on your side of the bed - but now you’re lying here in your little cotton pajamas you did not expect anyone to see and you can hear him breathing and the room is a little too warm. Every sense is on high alert and a pillow barrier would give you an inkling of privacy.

In the silhouette of the moonlight peaking through the curtains, you watch the planes of Bob’s face as he peacefully sleeps beside you. If he’s good looking in the daytime, he’s breathtaking at night. Pale eyelashes against his cheeks, lips slightly pouted, hair mussed from changing sides. You wish you could smooth your fingers over the planes of his face, appreciate the sharpness of his jaw, the roundness of his cheeks.

Tomorrow you have to pretend all over again to be in love with him. A feeling that’s already starting to creep inside you. A whole day of his gentle touches and laughs against your cheek. He was the perfect boyfriend that week in grade school, and even more perfect as an adult. Holding his hand made you want to never let go…which promptly made you want to jump out of your skin. 

This was a tiny white lie to get through Sunday morning. That was it.

You keep replaying the last moment before you retired back to your hotel room for the night. The drunken group sitting around the fire pit, a bottle of tequila making its way around the circle. Not enough chairs so you ended up in Bob’s lap, body cradled in the firm comfort of his chest. 

He made it so natural, the way his hand ran up and down your arm when you shivered in the night chill. You knew he could feel the shock up your spine when you noticed how intently he watched you during your story of how Isabel found a rat in your dorm room. He made you feel like the only person out there by the fire pit. The only person on this island.

When even the tequila couldn’t keep you warm any longer, the group disbanded in favor of cozy beds and hot showers. And even when no one else was in sight he still kept his arm around your shoulder to share his warmth, the pinching heels you’d shed in his hand as he asked whether you wanted to shower first.

Lips accidentally brushing your ear when he said he liked your dress; it matched the bougainvillea.

While you hadn’t spent much time together since your parents moved you away too long ago to remember, you were continually floored by how thoughtful he was still. He remembered how Isabel didn’t like ice, and that a few members of his squadron had allergies. Giving up his water because the woman next to him was without. Not to mention how he seemed to go the extra mile with you. All the years of boyfriends before this and not a single one had ever noticed you picked the pine nuts out of your salad; your new fake boyfriend requesting a fresh one sans nuts.

And it was borderline torture watching him get ready for bed post shower. Face and chest red from the scalding water and slick hair pushed back, towel slung a little too low as he dug through his suitcase. You were still speechless as he offered to put up a pillow barrier or something if it would make you more comfortable, making sure you knew he respected your boundaries.

His eyes were so blue without his glasses…

Caution to the wind, you run a finger over his cheek, brushing away a rogue eyelash and promptly turn away from him. Only one more day and you would be free of wanting a man that wasn’t yours.

The Fitch wedding day was perfect. Wide smiles, bridal lace, stunning hydrangeas, and not a dry eye in the house when Isabel and Reuben officially became husband and wife. It was the storybook start to a happy ever after. 

The sunlight blessed ceremony was followed by a lantern-lit reception, dancing and drinking overtaking the sprawling beach-front lawn of the hotel. You stayed out until the evening ended, the wedding party laughing and overfilling glasses of champagne until the last lantern was blown out. 

You barely remembered your rooming/relationship situation until a warm hand was on your forearm, asking if you were ready to go back to the room. It’s entirely unfair how good he looks in his suit. All day you’ve admired it, from the moment he emerged from the bathroom asking for help with his bow tie to an hour ago, when the wedding party did one last rendezvous on the dance floor. 

Bob has an ease on the dance floor, clearly practiced, the hand on the small of your back gently guiding. A hand big and warm and more distracting than trying to remember your own footwork. The dark-haired woman he seems close with whooping out, “Look at those moves, Floyd!” every time you get close, her own date cheering along. 

You shake the memory from your brain as Bob walks you back to the room. Keep the pining to a minimum until you can get to the airport and not have to see him ever again. You’re doing this for Isabel, your own emotions have no place. Even as you watch him open the door to the room and welcome you inside, looking so perfectly boyfriend-shaped.

Your skin feels too hot, your head clouded by bubbles and loud poppers exploding into the sky. Shedding this satin dress and getting into a warm shower sounds like heaven, washing away the buzzing ill-content flooding your body since you joined the wedding group that morning hand-in-hand with Bob. But a broken zipper interrupts those plans.

“Bob?” He stills on his way to the bathroom, bow tie loose around his neck. You indicate to the stuck zipper you’re fiddling with, warmth flaring at the top of your cheeks at your predicament.

The tips of his ears flush as he walks to you, chest a breath away from your back, admiring the way the satin flows over your curves and dips. Takes a moment to gather your hair over your shoulder before reaching for the zipper. The skin of his pinky accidentally brushes your neck, twin breaths catching at the shock. 

Firm fingers guide the zipper onto the track. As they guide the cool metal down your back, the boiling point that has been simmering below the surface since yesterday afternoon comes to a head. The lace of your bra is visible. Now the silken band of your underwear. The air of the room is still, eagerly awaiting what happens next.

While his voice is shaky, his words are firm. “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Your head turns to the side, eyes catching his profile, too scared to look at him directly. 

“What are you pretending to do?”

His face falls into the crook of your neck, fingers tightening along the satin of your hips. “Pretending I’m doing our friends a favor. Pretending I’m not falling for you. Pretending every time I touch you it’s not the best part of my day.”

Your hand wraps around his, rough skin and satin beneath your fingers. Needing to tether yourself to reality to make sure this isn’t a champagne-fueled dream that he’s professing against your neck. 

“In that case, I don’t want to pretend anymore either.”

While you can’t see him, you can feel his realization against your skin. Brow furrowing, lips parting. The soft brush of his nose as he straightens up, uses his hands to turn you to him. Finally forced to look at each other amidst the information divulged.

You aren’t sure who leans in first, who braved the waters of uncharted territory. Time stills and speeds up as his face grows closer. The scent of sandalwood and bergamot that’s followed you all weekend replaced by the woodsy mint of his cologne you’ve treated yourself to when tucked into his side. Anyone outside can hear two hearts beating erratically, anxious and excited. 

His lips are warm and comforting, just like everything else about him. Pressing delicately against yours, taking his time and letting you set the pace. You’re torn between the shock of how divine he feels and the greedy need for more. Senses overwhelmed by him; you want to taste more, feel more, see more.

When he pulls away, a gentleman not wanting to overstep, you’re breathless.

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you.” His confession is paired with pink cheeks and large hands playing with your fingers. 

You can’t help but to tease him, the banter from your childhood coming back. “Did it live up to expectations?”

“Way, way better.” Your smile is swallowed in his kiss, chins knocking as you trade off enthusiasm. A groan leaving Bob as you grab his hands and walk back to the bathroom. That hot shower still sounds amazing, but you need more of him.

The travertine tiles glow in the soft light as you watch your childhood love remove his suit, taking time to fold the pieces on the counter, letting you indulge in unbuttoning his crisp shirt as you share another sweet kiss. His own hands twisted in the dress barely clinging to your skin. The sounds that escape him as your hands explore his chest are purely sinful, meant only for your ears.

He barely lets you bask in his body, honed from years of Naval training, before he’s stripping the satin from your frame. You beg for another kiss, but he denies you. He can’t be distracted from watching every inch of skin being revealed. From letting his fingers follow the fabric as it pools at your feet. From kissing his way back up your body until your head falls back against the wall, fingers beckoning him to the shower.

“You’re so beautiful.” It’s more breath than words, but ignite the goose flesh along your skin as he adjusts the hot water and shower head to your liking.

Minutes or hours passed as you reacquainted under the steam. Your fingers tangled in wet strands of sandy hair, fingers slipping along any skin you can reach. His own hands tightly hugging your body, holding you close as he appreciates your nude form. Swallowing each other’s moans as his fingers dip between your folds and you run your palm along his shaft.

The universe has ceased to exist by the time Bob kisses you against the shower wall, fingers wrapping under your thighs to hoist you to his level. Loving the way you giggle as your arms wrap around his neck, trusting him wholeheartedly. Eyes trained at where he lines up with you, relishing the way your breath catches in anticipation. He kisses your forehead as a promise to take care of you, a promise you know he’ll keep.

Once he’s seated deep in you, the moment about connecting rather than getting off, he tilts your head up to check in with you. A kiss as his eyes search you for discomfort. The flames of his eyes burning the brightest blue. One final clench around him and he knows he needs to move; if not for his sake, for yours.

It’s the most glorious dream as he fills you completely, hips rocking into yours as sweaty foreheads meet.

When he brings you to orgasm, a steamy moment punctuated by your muffled screams against his shoulder, there’s nothing fake about the affection as he peppers you with praise. Or when he fills you with his own release a moment later, exhaling thank you, thank you, thank you.

A pillow barrier isn’t even discussed as you lay in his arms that night, cheek against bare chest. His arm trails down your arm like it had the night before, a mindless action you now recognize as meaningful to him as to you. Sated and content, as it should be.

You sit up a little to run your nose along his neck, producing a low groan from him. “You need something, sweetheart?”

“I was wondering, after that,” you gesture to the shower, cheeks heating, “does this mean we’re, uh, dating again?”

He smiles at your flush, cupping your face with one of his large hands. Presses the sweetest kiss to your lips.

“You know, we never had a break up. Technically we’ve been dating this whole time.”

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join the taglist for any fic

[hotshotsxyz]

too little, too late

(8x08 coda) (buddie) (1.2k) the episode chose violence and so did i :) spoilers for 8x08, and hey, guess what? this is my 100th 911 fic! it feels right that it's an evil one <3

The real estate agent has an irritating voice. It’s pitchy and run through with vocal fry, and if Buck has to listen to her talk for another second, he might actually tear his hair out. And it’s definitely about her voice. Nothing to do with the largely helpful information she’s handing over to Eddie like candy on Halloween.

“Anyway, we can touch base again once you’ve had a chance to look over those listings. I’m sure we’ll find something for both of you to love!” the realtor says.

Buck smiles. It feels brittle and fake.

“Thank you so much,” Eddie says with all the sincerity Buck can’t quite muster. He ends the call and sits back against the couch.

“That, uh—that went, um—” He’s choking on the positivity he’s trying so hard to exude. “—well,” he manages.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He runs a hand through his hair. “Seems easier than I thought it was going to be.”

Easy.

That’s—

Yeah.

“You know you—you don’t have to buy straight away,” Buck says as casually as he can manage, which is to say, not casually at all.

“Buck,” Eddie says with a sigh.

“I know!” Buck says, throwing his hands out in a gesture of surrender. “Just—maybe you want to make sure, you know? Before it’s—it’s permanent.”

“I can’t keep missing out on his life,” Eddie says quietly.

Buck swallows. He knows. He knows! Knows it like he knows there’s going to be an Eddie-and-Chris shaped hole in his heart for the rest of his goddamn life.

“I don’t want you to,” Buck says, and it’s maybe the first honest thing that’s come out of his mouth since he sat down on Eddie’s couch.

Bile rises in the back of his throat as he realizes this might be one of the last times he gets to sit on this couch, in this house, with this man.

Eddie drops his head into his hands. “I don’t—” He cuts himself off.

“Have you told Bobby yet?” Buck asks. His breath catches.

“No,” Eddie says.

“Oh,” Buck says in a rush of air. “That’s—” He wants to say good. He can’t say good. Eddie needs—he needs—

Eddie lifts his head from his hands and his eyes are shining. “I don’t want to,” he admits. “I thought—”

“That he’d want to come back,” Buck supplies when Eddie doesn’t finish his thought.

He nods.

“He still—he could still—” Buck starts.

“He’s not going to change his mind.” Eddie cuts him off. “He doesn’t hate me. It’s worse than that. He doesn’t care.”

Buck’s chest feels tight. “He—he loves you, Eddie,” he says weakly.

“Maybe before, but—”

“He does,” Buck insists. “And—and if this is what you have to do to make sure that stays true I—I get it.” He does. He gets it. He’d do anything for Christopher. He’d—

It’s the worst feeling in the entire fucking world, but he’d give up Eddie for that kid. Is. Is giving up Eddie for that kid. A sob jumps up in Buck’s throat. He fights it back.

“I want to believe you,” Eddie says.

Buck knows that he doesn’t.

“Have you, um. Have you talked to Chris about this yet?” Buck asks, feeling a little bit like he’s just laid his neck across the base of a guillotine.

Eddie shakes his head. “No, I—I’ve got to do this, whether he wants me to or not.”

All at once Buck’s angry. Angry at Eddie, angry at his parents, at fucking Kim, at himself, and maybe even a little bit at Christopher.

“Eddie, you—you told him he could come back!” He says, a little louder than he means to. “Doesn’t he deserve to know that’s not going to be an option anymore?”

Eddie’s gaze snaps to his. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s got—he’s got friends here, and—and Carla, and—” He can’t say it. He doesn’t have the right to say it, doesn’t have the right to feel like he’s already lost a limb and now they’re taking a lung, but— “and me,” he finishes quietly.

Something like devastation flashes across Eddie’s face. “Buck, I—”

“No,” Buck says quickly, standing up from the couch. “I shouldn’t have—I’m not—”

“Buck, wait,” Eddie says, following him as he retreats toward the door.

“I, um—I forgot, I have to—I promised Maddie,” he tries to lie.

“Please don’t go,” Eddie says, and god, how many times in Buck’s life has he yearned to hear someone say that to him and mean it. How many nights has he driven home from Eddie’s wishing he’d been asked to stay.

This thing building in his chest, this thing of anger and grief and regret—it hurts. Every breath he takes is a little more constricted, a little less effective.

Eddie looks at him, and Buck sees it. That thing he’s always wanted to see. That thing he didn’t even know he wanted from Eddie until right now and it’s—

There was a small, naïvely hopeful part of Buck that really still believe that if someone loved him enough, they’d stay. Eddie loves him, looks at Buck like he’ll break his heart when he walks out the door, and it still isn’t—

Eddie loves him, and it isn’t enough to make him stay.

Buck is in love with him, he realizes, and it doesn’t fucking matter because he’s leaving. Like Abby and like Tommy, except Buck didn’t know how much hurt he hadn’t even discovered yet, because this isn’t Abby or Tommy, it’s Eddie, and Eddie—

Eddie’s supposed to be the one that stays.

Buck shakes his head and shuffles back until the doorknob is digging into his spine. “I have to,” he breathes, a grossly distorted reflection of what neither of them has quite managed to say.

Eddie opens his mouth like he’s going to ask again, like he’s going to beg Buck to stay, to show him all these awful pieces of his heart that he’s just found so he can remind himself that it’s not too much to leave behind.

Buck’s out the door before he can say another word.

He throws himself into the Jeep and all but fishtails it out of Eddie’s driveway. He makes it three streets away before he has to pull over.

The first sob surprises him with its softness; the second with its violence. He wraps his arms tight around his stomach and, god, he tries to breathe. But there’s not—there’s not enough oxygen in the entire world to make up for the way his lungs refuse to expand in the face of this loss.

He has to—he can’t—Eddie needs him to pull it together. To—to help him. To support him, and god help him, Buck will. There’s nothing Eddie could ask of him that he wouldn’t give. Nothing Eddie could do, Buck’s realizing, to make him love him any less.

Hot tears spill down Buck’s cheeks. He takes a shuddering breath and wipes them away. His vital organs are crumbling, so what?

He’ll set himself on fire if that’s what it takes to keep Eddie warm.

[cjlouwho]

gimme buck and tommy meeting during a call and getting the chance to squeeze in a lil bantering and a goodbye smooch. i need it like i need air

“Well, fancy seeing you here.”

Buck turned around at the familiar voice, eyebrows furrowed in confusion even as the smile grew on his face. “Wha- I thought you were in the chopper?”

Tommy shook his head. “Parker's up there today. I may have asked if I could work ground ops when I heard the 118 was responding to the call too.”

It was a pretty intense fire that started on the roof of an apartment complex. With the wind, and the closeness of nearby buildings, there was worry it would spread fast if not quickly contained.

Thankfully, everything went smoothly. The building had been cleared and the fire was out. The crews from each department were now working on getting all their gear back in order so they could leave.

A blush rose on Buck's cheeks. “And why would you do that?”

“Oh, you know,” Tommy took a step closer to Buck, “I haven't seen Howie in a few weeks so I thought I'd catch u-”

Buck reached out and gave Tommy a playful push before he could finish the sentence. “Asshole,” he muttered.

Tommy laughed, face scrunching up tight. God, Buck loved that face.

“I wanted to see you, Evan,” he admitted. “It's been almost two weeks of opposite schedules. I'm about to file a report accusing the LAFD of being homophobic for keeping us apart.”

“I'd sign my name to it,” Buck agreed.

“So, not an overreaction?”

Buck moved even closer to Tommy. “If anything we should be doing more.”

Tommy's eyes moved to Buck's lips. “Anything specific in mind?”

“Guys, I'm seriously so close to throwing up,” Chimney interrupted, carrying the ax back to the truck. “Get a room.”

“In fifteen hours we will be in a room!” Buck yelled out to him, then quietly added for only Tommy to hear, “And we will not be leaving the room for forty-eight hours.”

Tommy smirked. “What if we get hungry?”

“Our lube is edible.”

“You know, Athena and I have made out between a firetruck or two,” Bobby mentioned as he passed by, patting Buck on the shoulder. “We leave in five.”

Years ago, Bobby would have been trying to steer Buck away from inappropriate workplace behavior, and maybe he still should be, but Buck had spent his last couple shifts becoming increasingly pouty. Plus, Tommy wasn't a one night- or, better yet, a one shift- stand. They were coming up on eight months together and apparently still couldn't get enough of each other.

Tommy would have laughed at the shocked look on Evan's face, but the go ahead from Bobby was all that he needed to be grabbing Evan's hand and leading him to a space between a fire truck and an ambulance. Tommy pushed him against the ambulance, brought his hands to Buck's waist, and practically smashed their lips together. Buck moaned, happily surprised as Tommy's tongue licked into his mouth. He wrapped his arms around Tommy's shoulders, bringing him closer.

“Where were you?” Buck asked when they pulled apart for air.

“West stairwell. You?” Tommy kissed him again before he could give an answer.

“East, mmm, east stairwell,” he gasped, Tommy working his way down Buck's jaw to his neck. “God, Tommy. We just m- missed each other.”

“Hmm,” Tommy hummed against the top of his collarbone, the vibrations giving Buck chills. He had never even felt Tommy undo his turnout jacket for better access. “Seems like we did that for quite a few years.”

Tommy knew how Buck felt about all their missed connections. He'd spent so much time going over all the events throughout the years where they could have or should have met, or almost did meet. While Buck did get bummed that they didn't know each other all those years ago, the fact that they finally did meet at what seemed to be the perfect time for them both was one of his biggest turn ons.

He reached up and got ahold of Tommy's face, bringing him back to his lips. “I love you... so much,” he mumbled out between kisses.

“I love... you more.”

“Amazing what you can see when you've got a bird's eye view,” a voice rang out over the radio. Tommy pulled back from their kiss, and they both looked up at the chopper hovering above them, giving a wave. “Parker will never let me hear the end of this,” Tommy laughed out.

Buck rolled his eyes playfully, then pressed the button on his radio. “I'm sure it's beautiful. I hope you took pictures.”

A few seconds passed before Parker got back on the radio. “Oh, don't you worry about that,” he said, laughter evident in his voice. The helicopter began to move away from above them. “Pilot Parker heading back to Harbor Station.”

Buck was starting to lean back in when the radio came to life again.

“Captain Nash to Buckley, we're heading out in one minute. I repeat, heading out in one minute.”

“Got it, Cap,” Buck answered. “On my way.”

Tommy sighed, gazing deeply into Evan's eyes. “I'll see you soon, okay? Be safe.”

“Fifteen hours?”

Tommy ran his hands up and down Evan's waist, pressing a final kiss to his lips before they had to part ways. “Fifteen hours.”

[louiseolivier]

08x06 Delulu

Tevan are at the Italian restaurant. The Hot Waiter flirts with Buck. Buck's kinda oblivious. He unintentionally flirts back. Buck pays this time, and inside the folder with his card and receipt is Hot Waiter's phone number. Buck is a little weirded out because he feels like it's obvious he and Tommy are on a date.

For the most part, Tommy watches Buck and Hot Waiter's interaction in amusement. He jokes whether Buck is he's going to call him, and Buck is taken aback. Then Tommy gets serious.

"We haven't really talked about the kind of relationship you want."

Buck's confused. "What does that mean?"

"Just that there's more than one way to be in a relationship. I've been in a couple that were open."

"Open?"

"We were allowed to sleep with other people."

"I know what it means, Tommy. Is that what you want?"

"I want you to be happy. I want you to know I'm amenable to that if you're interested. Truth be told, Evan, the most important thing is that you're in my life, whether we’re together or not. 

Suddenly, the Ironside siren goes off in Buck’s head, and he’s spiraling.  

Tommy clasps his hand and looks at him like he’s the goddamn sun, moon, and stars. “Think about it. It’s not like it’s something you have to decide today.”

Cue Buck, going to Bobby. “I don’t know what to tell you, Buck, but I’ve seen you two together. I don’t think breaking up is something Tommy is even thinking about. The other stuff...you should talk to Tommy. Be upfront. Be honest. 

Cue Buck, going to Maddie. “Buck, he kissed you while you were still covered in boils. I saw that with my own eyes and wished I hadn’t. I don’t want to put words in his mouth, but he does seem very committed to you. And to be perfectly honest, the open relationship doesn’t sound like something he’d suggest out of thin air. Maybe you said something...”

“You’re blaming me? Come on, Maddie! You know damn well that’s not how I roll. I slept around, yeah, but not while I was in a relationship - and don’t you dare bring up Taylor! Besides, an agreed upon “open” means consensual. I just - how did I miss that this was something he was interested in? Why would he wait six months to bring it up?”

A sound of disgust emanates from the corner of the call center's breakroom, and the Buckley siblings' heads swivel to its location. Josh is sitting at a table, sipping his coffee and rolling his eyes. “You sweet naive baby bi.” He gets up from his chair, sidles up to Buck, and eyes the donuts he brought for Maddie. “I don’t suppose there's a Bavarian cream in there?”

“There’s a jelly,” Buck says. 

“But jellies are my favorite,” Maddie complains. 

“Too bad. I’m about to help your chaotic brother out, so I deserve it.” Josh bites into the donut and gives an appreciative moan. “Oh god, I haven’t had refined sugar in three days. How I missed you.”

“Back to me, please,” Buck says with a whine.

“Look, it’s pretty simple. There are only two types of guys who want to open up a relationship after the six-month mark. Assholes carrying multiple red flags or..”

“Tommy’s not an asshole,” Buck tells him firmly. 

“Considering he’d whittle a rocking chair if you asked him to, I’d agree. Buck, my guess is he’s scared. He's worried that if he doesn't give you a free pass, that you'll get bored with him and leave.”

“That’s so stupid,” Buck cries in dismay. 

Maddie lays a supportive hand on his bicep. 

“It is,” Josh agrees. “But just because your man is a solid L.A. nine doesn’t mean he’s not carrying around a lot of insecurities. Talk to him. Tell him. And hey, if it all blows up on you, send him my way. I’d love to be that man’s shoulder to cry on.”

Buck shows up at Tommy’s door. Tommy is supposed to come to his after finishing his laundry, but Buck doesn’t want to wait that long. “Hey,” Tommy greets him with that scrunchy smile Buck loves so much. 

“I don’t want to have sex with anyone else,” Buck tells him as he barges through the door. 

“Oh-kay,” Tommy says, closing the door behind Buck. 

“Do you want to have sex with other men?”

Tommy crosses his arms, and his head tilts towards the ground. “No. I’ve come to learn that’s not an ideal situation for me.”

Buck scoffs. “Then why suggest it?”

The buzzer on the washer goes off, and Tommy moves towards it to switch out the load. “I don’t know. I’m pretty used to you flirting with everyone.”

“You think I flirt?” 

“Evan, you told the waiter you liked his chinos while eyeing his ass. Most of the time, I think it’s cute how you rile people up without realizing it, but then I have a thought like, what if Hot Waiter would be a better match for you? So I panicked and threw out that suggestion.” 

“Jesus, Tommy. For the past six months, my brain has been consumed by nothing but you. Yet you think I can be swayed by some guy in a comfortable pair of pants? I only want you.”

“I know. I do. You prove that to me every day. I didn’t suggest it because I don’t trust you.” Tommy tosses one of Buck’s hoodies into the dryer and starts it. He can’t keep eye contact with Buck for more than a few seconds, and he looks paler than when Buck first arrived. Tommy’s also picking his middle fingernail with his thumb, and that’s Tommy’s tell that he’s feeling overwhelmed. “Uh, so like, I’m in this for the long haul. I think you’re it for me, Evan, and I don’t want you to ever feel like you’ve settled or...”

“I love you,” Buck tells him with a certainty he doesn’t think he felt even eight hours ago, but it’s the god’s honest truth. “Just seeing you makes me feel so full I could combust. ”

Tommy’s eyes are glossy and he blinks rapidly to keep the tears at bay. He finally locks eyes with Buck. “Loving you has been living in the back of my mind since...I honestly don’t know how long. I’ve been trying to temper my expectations because I haven’t been super successful in relationships. But then you started leaving clothes here, and suddenly you’ve infiltrated my life like no one else has been willing to. Next thing I know, I’m at a funeral for a long dead cowboy. I watched you embrace the memory of a forgotten man, and I realized I couldn’t love you more, Evan. Boils and all.”

Aaaaand that’s it. I’m tapped out.

[loucifersbitch]

8x04 episode coda

“Hey,” Tommy said when Buck walked through the door, pulling him in and placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Hey.” Buck smiled, resting his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder briefly. “What’s all this? It smells amazing,” he said, walking over to the stove to peek into one of the kettles.

Tommy slapped his hand away before he could lift the cover, Buck squawking in mock offense.

“It’s nothing big,” he said, picking up a wooden spoon to stir something in a sauce pot. “I thought you should have a nice homemade meal to come home to after the week you’ve had,” he added with a shrug. He was trying to seem nonchalant, but Buck wasn’t buying it, eyebrows shooting up.

“Uh huh. And what’s the actual reason for all this?”

Tommy huffed a laugh, not looking at Buck as he continued to give all of his concentration to the stovetop.

“Do I need a reason to cook a nice meal for you?”

“No, but - I don’t know, Tommy,” he started, moving over to lean against the counter next to his boyfriend. “This seems like - like too much.”

Tommy finally looked at him, setting down the spoon and placing his hands on Buck’s waist.

“Evan,” he said, his tone almost a reprimand, “there is no such thing as too much when it comes to you. I like doing things for you. I know you’ve had a hard time dealing with Gerrard at work and worrying about Hen and Karen and their daughter, but that’s all over now. Bobby’s back, and Mara is home, and I get to see you be happier again. So I wanted to celebrate a little. Okay?”

Buck ducked his head then looked shyly up at Tommy. He felt cared for in a way he hadn’t since his childhood.

“Okay,” he said. “Thank you, Tommy.” He placed a kiss next to Tommy’s mouth, right on one of the dimples he loved so much.

“You’re welcome. Now, can I get back to my sauce before it burns?” he asked, that smile tugging at his lips.

“Y-yeah, of course.” 

Tommy began stirring again, and Buck couldn’t help but watch the way Tommy’s muscles shifted beneath his henley. Muscles he would get to enjoy later, he knew.

“Would you drain the pasta for me?” Tommy asked, breaking into a smirk when he noticed Buck staring.

“Sure, I think I can manage that.”

Resting a palm on Tommy’s hip, he reached around to the other side to grab the colander, making Tommy chuckle. He drained the pot of pasta - “Did you make fresh spaghetti?” - he let Tommy take over, tossing the pasta in the sauce. Buck moved on to opening a bottle of wine and pouring two glasses before sitting at the table as Tommy walked over.

“Bon appetit,” he said, setting a heaping bowl in front of Buck. “Spaghetti all’Arrabbiata.”

“Wait,” Buck said, suddenly struck. “Is this your Nonna’s recipe? The one you made the first night we - ?”

“It is,” Tommy said, shrugging.

“Tommy, are you sure there’s nothing going on?”

“Why are you suspecting something?” Tommy asked, taking a sip of his wine.

“This all feels - I don’t know. Something feels different.”

Tommy sighed, dropping his head. When he looked up again, his eyes were glinting with something Buck couldn’t decipher at first glance.

“I was trying to be so subtle, but you never miss anything, do you?” Tommy asked, holding out a hand for Buck to take. It felt like Tommy wasn’t done speaking, so Buck waited him out for a few moments. “After dinner, I was going to sit you down and talk with you for a while. Catch up after not seeing each other for a few days. But you’re too smart, too perceptive.”

“Tommy -”

“Move in with me.” It wasn’t a question, but it was a request all the same.

Buck was speechless for a moment, processing the idea that Tommy wanted to live together.

“I - Tommy, it’s been six months. Are you sure you want me around all the time? Always in your space? All my things taking up residence here?”

“Yes, Evan. I want you around all the time. Every day. I want to go to sleep next to you every night and wake up to your snoring every morning.”

“I don’t sno-”

“And I want all of your things here,” Tommy pressed on. “I want your clothes in the closet and your dishes in the kitchen and your fancy bath towels in the linen closet.”

“Tommy, this is big.” 

“I know. But I know this is what I want. Every day I come home, and it feels like something’s missing. And I realized that that something is you. I want you, Evan. You’re home to me now.”

Buck couldn’t stop himself from surging forward, pulling Tommy into a searing kiss.

“You’re absolutely sure about this?” he asked. At Tommy’s insistent nod, he said, “Okay. Yeah, let’s do it.”

“Great.”

Neither of them could seem to stop smiling.

[lex-the-flex]

Better in Yellow

WorstLogan! Howlett x reader

Summary: Returning from a taxing mission, Logan is ready to relax with you, but first, you’ve got to see your man in the iconic yellow suit.

Word Count: 703

Warning(s): None! Just pure fluff and flirting!

A/N: Hello all, I'm back after a short break! I've been thinking about this idea for the past couple of days and I need more Logan fluff in my life. Feedback is appreciated and enjoy!

The fresh scent of lemons and sugar overtake the large gardens attached to the vine-covered brick mansion. Rays of sunlight stretch through the tall trees, allowing every square inch of the green nature to feel alive.

Lightly scrubbing a large batch of lemons in a stone sink built into the wall, the cold water feels refreshing on your hands. Gently wiping the thin layer of sweat off your face, you quietly hum to yourself.

“I found some wild lavender growing in the far corner.” Rogue announces to you.

Turning around from the stone sink, a bright smile overtakes your lips.

“I didn’t even know we had that here. I wonder how many other herbs Storm and Scott have locked away in a cabinet somewhere.” You reply.

Quickly drying off the fruit, you return to the picnic table where Rogue has occupied herself with cleaning and cutting the lavender. Carefully peeling and chopping the fresh lemons, the faint sound of the Blackbird fills the air, signaling that the crew were home. Bouncing on her toes, you can tell how eager Rogue is to see Bobby, so you give her a reassuring nod.

Bolting from her spot at the table, runs through the courtyard and in between the perfectly trimmed hedges. Smiling after her, you happily return to your task.

"I see you found my secret stash." Scott teases.

Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, you can't help but laugh.

"Oh come on! It's not like you were using it anyway. But you can thank Rouge for finding it. She's got quite the eye." You reply.

Adding some ingredients to the glass pitcher, Rogue returns with Bobby and the rest of the gang.

"Speaking of having an eye, maybe don't mention the new uniforms to your beloved Wolverine. It was like pulling teeth with him just to wear these damn things. He's still a little sensitive." Scott explains, grabbing a glass.

"Who's still a little sensitive?" Storm asks, placing her hands on her hips.

"Oh you know, the moody and broody Logan over there. Besides, the mission was a little rough." Jean teases, blindly aiming her thumb behind her.

"Or rather: Logan was a little rough." Scott interjects.

"Guys, you all look absolutely amazing. Regardless of how eye-catching the suits are, they still prove who we are." You state.

Pouring everyone a glass of the lemonade, the crew slowly depart from the picnic table, and you sit on the wooden surface. In the meantime, Logan slowly and surely makes his way over to you.

"Heya darlin'." Logan says.

Joining you at the table, he leans against the edge, and finally focuses on you. Taking in his tired features, the sight of Logan's light hazel eyes bring a sense of peace to your chest.

"Hi, Lo." You reply.

Silently smiling at you, Logan leans toward you, pressing a loving kiss to your lips.

"I've missed you, bub. I wish you were on the mission with you. We really could've used you. Besides, these suits didn't help either. They already need to be repaired." Logan admits.

Briefly turning around, Logan lets you examine a few slashes and dents caused by bullet holes. Running your fingers over the ridges in the damaged fabric, Logan turns back around to face you.

Carefully placing his hands on either side of your hips, you calmly stroke his cheeks. Feeling a little pit of disappointment rise in the pit of his stomach, Logan tries to open his mouth to speak his mind, but you place a finger on his lips.

"I know what you're going to say and you don't need too. While the mission didn't go the way you wanted, at least you all tried. You tried, Logan. And that's what matters. Even if yellow might secretly be your color and you look pretty damn sexy in it." You clarify, not letting go of Logan.

Earning a rare full smile from Logan, he kindly laughs at your joke. Suddenly, the heavy weight of the mission gradually leaves Logan's chest just as he leans his forehead against your own. Embracing the moment, a great wave of tranquility consumes Logan in the best way possible, as long as you are by his side.

wolverine taglist ~

@dreamliners

@chronicallybubbly

@dontfeedthebigbadwolf

@the-resident-vampire

@ovaryacted

@misssarcasmos-blog

@yellow-eyed-sams-wife

@lost-in-horrorland

@peterparkernotfound

@pcrushinnerd

@quillycrow

@till-hes-90

@the-moth-archives

@stilllivindue2spite

@wolviesgal

[lives-in-midgard]

Love you

Pairing: Evan Buckley x reader

Summary: After your and Buck's daughter said something cute you decide to surprise him at work.

Word Count: 730

A/N: Hey guys. This is the last one shot from the Buddie-August. I hope you like it!

Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Buddie-August hosted by me and @buckys-wintersoldier

Prompt: with kids

911 Masterlist | Main Masterlist

After you and Buck dated for two years, you became pregnant and now have your beautiful and cute daughter Emma. During your pregnancy Buck was always there for you and protected you even more. He always made sure you were comfortable and not overworked. When Emma was born she began to be the light of your life. Buck loves holding her, cuddling with her and talking to her. She makes you both so happy and you always love to see when she learns something new.

That was one of the reasons why Buck was so sad when he had to go back to work. He was sad that he couldn’t spend as much time with you and Emma anymore and could miss when she does something new. You promised to send him some pictures while he is at work and tell him everything he missed. And when Buck comes back from work, the first thing he does is to kiss and cuddle his little princess. When she started to talk, and her first word was “daddy” Buck was so excited and told everyone. She started saying some random words and making you both laugh which made her laugh too.

Today was one of those days where Buck had a 24 hour shift. He’s been at work since yesterday and is coming back today at the evening. You missed him a lot when he was at work for so long and he missed you, but the good thing is that it means that he has the next two days off and will be at home with you.

The day started as normal as always. Emma woke you up early in the morning, later you had breakfast, then you both went for a walk and Emma took a nap. But then when Emma woke up and you gave her a kiss, she suddenly said something she had never said before.

“love mommy.”

“I love you too honey.” You said excited but then got sad that Buck wasn’t there to hear it.

“Do you want to go to daddy?” You asked and she began to giggle.

“Daddy.”

“Yeah, let’s go see daddy.” You said with a smile and picked her up. You quickly took your bag with everything that you could need and made your way to the car. While driving to the station Emma didn’t stop to say “daddy” because she was so excited.

As you walked into the station your daughter began to giggle because she likes being there and seeing the others. When you walked upstairs and she saw Buck, she immediately said “daddy.” Buck saw you two, began to smile and run over to you.

“Hey my little princess.” He said and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey, babe.” Buck greeted you and kissed you. Emma made grabby hands and Buck took her with a smile and hugged her.

“Is this my favorite niece.” Chim said as he walked closer, making Emma giggle. The others greeted you as well.

“Wait, is everything okay?” Buck suddenly asked.

“Yeah, we just missed you and Emma wanted to tell you something.” You said with a grin and Buck smiled at you.

“Oh, is that so?” He asked with a smile, but Emma just laid her head on Bucks shoulder. You chuckled and then said.

“Maybe she says it again.” Buck nodded.

“Are you hungry? We were just about to eat.” Bobby asked and you nodded. You all sat down at the table. You sat next to Buck who was holding his daughter in his arms. After eating you talked a while with Eddie and the others.

“Love daddy.” Emma suddenly said and everyone began to smile.

“Aww, I love you too my little princess.” Buck said with a big smile and hugged her.

“I love you so much.” He said again and was so excited.

“Love daddy.” He gave her a few kisses and looked so happy.

“What about me Emma?” Chim asked but she didn’t say anything, and everyone started to laugh.

“Don’t worry, the day will come and she will say it to you too.” Hen said and you chuckled.

You stayed at the station for a while until they were called to an emergency and had to leave. Buck was so happy that you surprised him and can’t wait to come home later and spend more time with you two.

Taglist:

@cevansbaby-dove | @buckys-wintersoldier

@beaubbdoll

[no-goodbyes-no-regrets]

a little Tommy & Chim bffs for @rileychester

----

"Her ladyship requests, no demands, uncle Buck reading her a story before bed instead of her own mother." Maddie said, walking back into the livingroom after having gone to put Jee to bed half an hour ago.

"What can I say, it's not easy being this popular." Buck joked and extracted himself from where he'd been happily tucked under Tommy's arm on Maddie and Chimney's way too comfortable sofa. He quickly kissed Tommy, murmured something about being right back, and followed Maddie up to Jee's room.

Tommy watched him until he was out of the room and then turned back to Chim who was laughing at him.

"Damn Kinard you've got it bad."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Tommy said, trying to act somewhat cool and hide his reddening cheeks behind his wine glass.

"Yeah I'm sure you don't." Chim took a sip of his own drink. "I mean I love Maddie more than anything in the world, but I don't kiss her goodbye when she leaves the room."

"Well maybe you should start." Tommy told him. If he was getting called out, he might as well own it. "It's working pretty well for us."

"She'd probably think I was going crazy and call Hen to come check me over. Who would then also ask me if I'd lost my mind." He said and they both laughed. "But it's good to see you so happy, man. Both of you. Even if I never in a million years would have guessed that you two would end up together."

"Me neither really." Tommy admitted. "I actually almost let your call go to voicemail that night. My shift was almost over and there was bad weather coming in... I just wanted to go home and catch up on some sleep."

"And there was me asking you to steal a helicopter because of a hunch. I'm sure Bobby is still very grateful you didn't ignore me." Chim said and raised his glass at him. "To team who cares!"

Tommy clinked his glass against Chim's.

"Bobby isn't the only one who's grateful. If I hadn't answered that call, i would have missed out on the greatest thing that ever happened to me. i wouldn't have met the love of my life. I wouldn't be here now. I might have downloaded that dating app again that I'd deleted off my phone a few days before or taken Lucy up on her offer to set me up with her friend." Tommy shook his head. "I'm just glad I did answer. it definitely changed my life for the better."

"You're getting sappy in your old age, Kinard." Chimney teased. "When is the wedding? Do I have time to buy a hat?" he joked, expecting Tommy to laugh with him. Only when he didn't say anything Chim really looked at him. "What? Tell me you didn't..."

"I asked Evan to marry me last night." Tommy told him after a beat. "He said yes."

Chimney blinked a few times to process the information.

"Of course he said yes! He's just as crazy about you as you are about him." he got up to hug his friend. "Welcome to the family, man. We'll officially be brothers."

Tommy smiled and finished the last of his wine.

"There is one thing I wanted to talk to you about though..."

"Shoot."

"When Evan and I get married... will you be my best man?"

"It would be the greatest honour of my life."

---

Send me a prompt and I'll write you a ficlet!

[lovelybee666]

WHAT THE SMILING CRITTERS LIKE TO DO IN THEIR FREE TIME WITH THEIR S/O

DOGDAY

• Strangely, it was the one that was the most difficult for me to do, but I feel like he could play with you.

"I bet you 5 waffles you don't catch me!"

Dogday was escaping from his S/O while smiling happily, Shortly after, he rested on a tree and felt a hand touch his back.

"AH! S/O HOW DID YOU FIND ME? I SWORE I HAD HIDDEN WELL!"

Spoiler: you found him because you could see his tail moving from side to side

KICKINCHIKEN

• ok I'm having a hard time thinking of something for Kickin but maybe he could play soccer while trying to get your attention.

"S/O, look at this! Look look!"

Kickin tried to throw the ball into the sky to get it on his head and let the ball bounce off his head bounced but he threw it too hard and ended up making his head hurt.

"OW THAT HURT— DON'T LOOK, DON'T LOOK!!!"

BOBBY BEARHUG

• Bobby hugs you while showering you with praise.

"Muak muak I love you for everything you are and everything you will be in the future!"

Bobby gave you small kisses on your cheeks while hugging you

"I love you so much so SO MUCH!!"

HOPPY HOPSCOTCH

• You two start running around, trying to jump as high as you can or play tag.

"Come on S/O, we must jump higher to reach the moon!"

Hoppy said, jumping with you while you seemed to be about to collapse, they had been jumping non-stop for almost an hour and it was already starting to affect you

"After we reach the moon, we'll eat ice cream! How does that sound?"

CRAFTYCORN

• the two of you draw things you see around the place.

"Huh what are you painting, darling?"

Craftycorn turned around to see your painting of what appeared to be a butterfly on a flower

"My oh my, it looks so pretty but...you missed painting these edges...!"

PICKYPIGGY

• You two go out on a picnic to eat while talking

"And after that I told him to pick on someone his size and it turned out we were the same size!"

Picky said with her mouth full of bitten apple pieces.

"So we fought and I won, oh I forgot to tell you that it also turned out that he was the leader of the kindergarten mafia—"

BUBBA BUBAPHANT

• Maybe at home or in the yard studying, why? Because you two we're bored

"So what is two hundred ninety-four divided by one hundred fifty-two?"

Bubba was teaching his S/O math even though his S/O had an expression of agony and suffering.

"...are you going to respond or...?"

I love writing about this little group💕💕