#post zero hour fic

[martianbugsbunny]

Hour One (A Kalluzeb Fic)

*falling down the stairs* I did it! I finished my post-Zero Hour fic, it's so tasty to me <3 I'm not even gonna ramble about it I'm just gonna get right to the fic bc I love it!!! read on and enjoy!!!

When the ship was safely in hyperspace, Kanan quietly let Kallus into a room on the Ghost that was currently deserted. Judging by the half-made bunk beds against the wall, Kallus assumed it was living quarters, but he was too distracted by the growing pain in his shoulders and ribs to try and piece together whose room it was.

“I’ll give you a minute,” Kanan said. And then Kallus was alone again, with the forgiving, kind voice of the Jedi echoing in his brain. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to be spoken to softly. He was lucky these people whom he’d hunted across the galaxy for years had even bothered to pick up his escape pod, rather than speeding away from the Imperial fleet and applying the rule of “serves him right.”

Something in him cracked. He began to sob, silently, terrified of what he had done in betraying the Empire, overwhelmed by a thousand different strident feelings he couldn’t even name. The heavy breaths hurt (every movement seemed to hurt, now that his adrenaline rush was wearing thin) and his head was pounding. Was the world really spinning, or was that just him?

At the first hiss of the door sliding open, Kallus dragged his sleeve hastily across his face to remove any tears or snot that might give away that he’d been crying—a bad decision, really, given his black eye, which stung at the rough contact.

It wasn’t Kanan who stepped into the room, slightly awkwardly and with bright green eyes that reflected back at Kallus those unnamable emotions.

It was Zeb.

Kallus took a step back, hands clenched at his sides. He knew his eyes were red and he could feel spots on his face where he had missed tears, and he hoped Zeb wouldn’t notice. He had no right to cry in front of this man, of all people.

Zeb stared at him for a moment, and Kallus could feel him mentally checking off all the things that were currently wrong on Kallus’s person. Hunched posture from his injured ribs; blotchy face; bloodstains on his uniform and dried blood on his lip.

“I brought you some clothes,” Zeb said. In the other hand he held a medkit, and Kallus realized with a sinking feeling that those supplies were for him. What a waste of resources that seemed. “They’re probably not your size, but they’re better than the Imperial things you’re wearing.”

Kallus took a breath before answering, surprised at how steady he was able to force his voice to be. “Thank you,” he said.

Then there was a horrible pause as Kallus realized he wouldn’t be able to remove his chest armor, much less his shirt, without help, and he could see the exact same knowledge dawning on Zeb’s face. “Karabast,” he said. “You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you.”

Kallus shook his head after only a brief moment of thought. He didn’t have the strength to punish himself any further. Whether or not he was worthy of Zeb’s help would have to wait until he was healed. “If you don’t mind,” he said, taking another shaky breath as he once again met Zeb’s gaze.

He didn’t look angry. He almost seemed…proud? That wasn’t right. Kallus was seeing things; his brain had been shaken up by his escape and he was imagining things that weren’t there. “I don’t,” Zeb said. He crossed the room and set the clothes down on the lower bunk. “Sit,” he said, gesturing to the empty space next to them.

Kallus did as he was told, relieved to be off his feet. The leg he’d injured on Bahryn had been hurting horribly since his fight with Thrawn, particularly his knee. He might need to consider getting a brace, he realized, if he wanted to keep fighting—which he did.

Zeb unclasped the sides of Kallus’s ISB-issued armor, dumping it on the floor. “Sabine’ll get a kick out of painting that,” Zeb said. “You can wear our colors instead of Imperial ones.” “Give it to somebody else,” Kallus said. “I don’t want it.” Zeb gave him another strange look that he couldn’t parse. “Whatever you say.” He began to work at the clasps of Kallus’s uniform shirt. They definitely wasn't built for his large, clawed fingers. “So…you’re a Rebel now,” he said. “Still think you made the right decision?”

There weren’t words to describe how firmly Kallus was convinced of it. He was terrified, staring into the face of the unknown, but he knew he’d done the right thing—he just wasn’t sure how to live with the consequences. How to build a new life for himself out of the ruins of his old one…which had been built on the ruins of so many other people’s lives.

So Kallus simply nodded, trying to keep himself from spilling any more tears. The thing that made that impossible was the gentle way Zeb worked the unclasped shirt from his torso, pulling off one sleeve and then the other, grumbling angrily in that deep, rumbling voice when he saw the bruises on Kallus’s side.

“I apologize,” Kallus said immediately, his voice stiff and cracked like old, uncared-for leather. “This isn’t fair.” Zeb helped him get his arms into the new shirt he’d brought, leaving the clasps undone; the medics would only have to undo them again later to treat his injuries properly. Then he draped a quilted jacket across Kallus’s shoulders.

“You just uprooted your entire life, Kallus,” Zeb said, sighing and adjusting a non-existent crease in the jacket. “I would think it was weird if you didn’t cry.”

“Not in front of you. You shouldn’t comfort me.” Kallus moved backwards, further into the bunk, away from Zeb’s touch. He didn’t deserve empathy and he didn’t want pity. “This shouldn’t be your problem.”

Zeb got up from the floor where he’d been kneeling and sat on the edge of the bunk, staring at the opposite wall instead of at Kallus. “Maybe not,” he agreed. “Maybe I should say it’s none of my business. Maybe I should leave you to deal with it alone. But when you worked with me on that ice moon, and saved my friends from the Empire, and fed us all that intel as Fulcrum, I think you kind of made yourself my business.” He turned back towards Kallus, his face serious, his eyes soft. “Now let me check your other injuries.”

Kallus complied, shifting closer to Zeb. Even if it didn’t sit right with him, he didn’t think he could refuse Zeb anything. He would do whatever he was asked, whatever he was told—even allow Zeb to take on some of his burden—if it would make a fraction of a difference. If it would help him so much as an inch towards making amends.

With his broad hands carefully gentle, Zeb put a few stitches in Kallus’s broken lower lip. Kallus wondered where Zeb had learned those skills; if it was gained during his time in the Honor Guard of Lasan or in the Rebellion. For a moment, he was lost in wondering, searching Zeb’s face while he was intent on his task as though he could find an answer there. He only realized Zeb had paused and asked him a question when Zeb tilted his head to the side, staring at Kallus for an answer of his own.

“Could you repeat that?”

Zeb rolled his eyes. “I said, can you see alright? That black eye doesn’t look too good.”

His eyes were dry now, but there was still a blur in the left side of his vision. “Actually, I can’t,” he said, swallowing hard. “Everything to the left is hazy.”

“It'll probably need a while to heal,” Zeb said. “If it doesn’t, we’ll get you fitted with some visual aids.” He dabbed something cold and clear on the bruised skin. “There’s nothing more I can do until we land, but you should be fine.”

The pain in his side begged to argue, and he was pretty sure that something in there was broken, but Kallus nodded. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “For everything."

How could he put that everything into words? Thank you for not killing me on Bahryn, thank you for telling me to look for the answers, thank you for believing me when I was Fulcrum, thank you for picking me up just now, thank you for tending my wounds.

He didn’t need to. The way Zeb was looking at him, he already knew.

“We have enough people on board to handle things,” Zeb said, his voice equally low. “I can stick around here for a while if you want the company.”

Kallus felt a smile tugging at the stitches on his lip. More everything to be grateful for. “Alright.”

They sat there together on the bunk for a while in silence. It was a comfortable silence, somehow, and Kallus finally began to relax, not breathing easily past the injuries to his ribs but certainly breathing more easily than before.

“You were limping,” Zeb said, breaking the quiet. “When you came on board you were limping.”

“Once you’re wounded, that body part becomes a target. It’s not so bad, now that my weight’s been off it.” Zeb leaned back against the wall. “That’s good.” He extended one arm to Kallus. “Come on, Kal. We’ve got time before we land anywhere, you can rest.”

There was a moment of hesitation, of doubt, and then Kallus allowed himself to settle next to Zeb, with a strong purple arm around his shoulders. As he started drifting off, safe for the first time in months and knowing his injuries would be cared for, Kallus thought he felt Zeb’s fingers gently rubbing across his arm, and there was a little pit of warmth in his chest that kept the cold of pain and guilt out.

[inhurtandincomfort]

Me, simply existing: -1hp -1hp -1hp -1hp -1hp

[cinnaminsvga]

hi hello good evening (morning, afternoon, day) to all ye citizens of yap nation (population: me)

it's been a while and just wanted to write a little update here in case anyone cares (i say, as my voices rings out in this echo chamber)

i’m currently writing my next fic for my “heart full of hugot” series (it’s the taehyung-centered one titled “kilig” btw) and i’m really enjoying the process so far!! a small sneak peek, but i like to think i wrote namjoon canon compliantly in this one...

idk when this will come out because i'm slow as hell, but i'll post a teaser for it once i've written a sizeable amount :D i'm at 2k words so far... and not even at the meat of the story... oh god i hope it's not as long as harana but we shall see... PRAY FOR MY TINY BRAIN!!!

[rockyroadkylers]

i think i finished my new year's day fic 👀

[beesinspades]

if i'm late to post the next chapter of my canon divergence fic in which wolfwood finds eriks stuck in his creechur form, this is why :3

[lunarrosette]

Everyone on Valentine’s Day just pretend I post nark fanart bc I don’t think I’m gonna have time to finish the piece I’m working on

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2025: CAMP ZERO by Michelle Min Sterling.

Up next! I'm daisy-chaining my way through Winter Themed Books, and this one felt like a good next link after ICE CUBE.

[allthemurders]

i found your sarah barnaby whump posts and I'm desperate for more do u have any more ideas or thoughts ahdjsj

HELLO HI I AM ALWAYS DOWN TO TALK ABOUT SARAH BARNABY WHUMP!! i have So Many thoughts and ideas hehehehehe

ngl it’s been A While since i last watched midsomer tho, so my memories of it are all a bit hazy and i’ve probably misremembered some plot points / timings / etc. this is also why some of these ideas are Extremely Vague hgkfjdjfhf

(i’m gonna put it all under the cut bc the post got fairly long, wHoOpS)

ep-specific whump:

s19 ep5 - death by persuasion : the aim is a little off with the warning shot during the ball, and sarah gets hit. or she gets hit by a mirror shard. either way, she’s in a regency era ball gown and she is bleeding out while john frantically tries to help her. (this naturally gives her ideas for her book, much to john’s concern)

s20 ep2 - death of the small coppers : i was So sure sarah was gonna end up getting caught helping birgitte with her investigation and that some sort of whump would play out with that. i have no real thoughts of what or how or why exactly, but i Need it. possibly could have birgitte & sarah being caught snooping and subsequently getting whumped together??? helping each other stay strong throughout it, then working out an escape plan and getting themselves out before john & jamie can even attempt to rescue them??? also unrelated but sarah should’ve been there for the jamie whump scene at the end i stg

s21 ep2 - the miniature murders : THE MURDERER WAS LITERALLY IN JOHN & SARAH’S HOUSE WITH SARAH & BETTY. WHY DID NOTHING HAPPEN WITH THIS?????? MIDSOMER WRITERS HATE ME I STG 😭😭 anyways what if john & jamie rush in, john telling sarah to take betty to play in her room, but sarah doesn’t get the opportunity to leave?? the murderer grabs her in a panic and pulls a knife (or possibly a dangerous improvised weapon of some kind, i’m hazy on the details of this ep) and takes her hostage. jamie hurries betty upstairs on john’s orders, trying his best to console her and answer her questions while also massively worrying about his adoptive mum sarah. john is left to talk the murderer down on his own

s22 ep5 - for death prepare : things go massively wrong when sarah is on stage. i’m talking “murderer walks on stage in full costume with an actual extremely lethal sword or a period-accurate gun” kind of massively wrong. “the last guy he wants to kill is also on stage” kind of massively wrong. “sarah just gets in the way of his revenge and ends up with a severe wound” kind of massively wrong. (john and jamie get there in time to see it happen but too late to actually stop it. they both blame themselves for not getting there sooner)

s23 ep1 - the blacktrees prophecy : so many vague and depressing thoughts about sarah having a Bad Childhood™ with far too much pressure on her to always be perfect, because nothing was ever good enough for her mum no matter how hard she tried. (*literally looks so upset by the thought of her mum coming to stay that john thinks she’s straight up died* / “oh, i’m just touching up a few patches [of paint on the walls]. you know how my mother likes to point out every little imperfection” / “the house is, er… looking lovely” “well, i’m sure she’ll find fault somewhere”). HER SCENES IN THIS EP PHYSICALLY HURT ME HONESTLY. SHE IS SO STRESSED AND TENSE,,,,,,,,, and then basically as soon as she finds out her mum’s going to her sister’s instead you can See this massive weight has been lifted off her. like ik there’s a couple hours between her finding out and the actual scene at the end, bUT STILL. IT’S LIKE FLICKING A SWITCH???? SHE’S SUDDENLY HAPPY AND JOKING WITH JOHN AGAIN??????? sorry this was basically just me repeating canon but i have too many Feelings about it 😭😭

s23 ep3 - a grain of truth : look honestly i don’t really remember anything about this ep other than that sarah was at the place where a murder happened or smth and iirc exactly zero whump came out of this. some whump should’ve come out of this. also weren’t ppl being poisoned with ergot or smth?? why was sarah not poisoned with ergot??

non-ep whump:

john gets a call from betty’s school saying that it’s getting pretty late, will he or sarah be picking her up soon? and he’s a little confused, because it’s meant to be sarah’s day to do the school pickup and it’s not like her to forget, but he figures she must’ve been waylaid by something. he calls her, but it just goes to voicemail. he calls again; still nothing. he’s concerned now, wondering why she isn’t answering, but he knows she sometimes gets stuck in unplanned meetings for ages, so it’s like a low-level concern as he leaves work early to pick betty up. his worry absolutely skyrockets when he finds the front door kicked in, the living room trashed, and the house empty despite sarah’s car being parked up outside. a ransom note and proof of life photos arrive the following morning

john & sarah are held captive together for some reason. john’s being Extremely Annoying in order to get the captors to keep their focus on him, because he’s willing to take all the consequences of their anger if it keeps sarah out of harm’s way. one of the captors eventually hurts sarah to try and keep him in line, and he just goes absolutely feral

sarah should get to watch someone being killed. as a treat (..ok probably not for her, but it would be for me ✌️😎)

tbh most of the rest of my misc ideas are just various other forms of “sarah gets Beaten Up!!” or “sarah gets held hostage to get john to cooperate!!” s o o o yea that is basically all i can think of atm 👀

tysm for the ask, and i really really hope you enjoyed this whump as much as i enjoyed thinking about it!! ✨✨✨

[habibisagi]

literally worst thing ever when you're so close to being done with a fic and then suddenly you get an additional idea that could make it much better but it would mean having to go back through the 10k+ words you just wrote to add it in there as some big detail

[martianbugsbunny]

Last Line Challenge

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like). I was tagged by the ever-stunning @mcu-supersoldiers ty!!! I love these!

How could he put that everything into words? Thank you for not killing me on Bahryn, thank you for telling me to look for the answers, thank you for believing me when I was Fulcrum, thank you for picking me up just now, thank you for tending my wounds. He didn’t need to. The way Zeb was looking at him, he already knew.

And in case you want the context it's from my often-mentioned not-yet-released post-Zero Hour fic!!!! it's almost done, this is just where I left off last time I was working on it and I love it

no pressure tagging @stardreamer28 @chlo-cannot-comprehend @lost-in-derry @yardikins @wastingstarsss if y'all want a chance to talk about ur latest projects here u go!!!

[freakcliff]

Chapters: 1/4 Fandom: Zero Escape (Video Games) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Words: 4566

Clover rolls her eyes. Silence stretches between them, heavy with the events of the last nine hours to forty-five years. She looks at Tenmyouji, and his graying hair, and his shitty wrinkled shirt, and the eight-year-old sitting next to him digging a small hole in the dirt with his fingers, and tries to decide whether or not he’s the same person she knew before today.

“Clover,” he says, “Come on over. You look like shit.”

--

Clover in the days following the Ambidex Game; Junpei in the years following the Radical 6 Pandemic

[batsplat]

introducing a new system where i take an evening where i'm not gonna do useful shit anyway and pick like... 5-10 asks that Do Not Need an essay response and answer them without an essay response. because the inbox has gotten truly worrying and the time i take to respond feels kinda rude at this point. so. sorry u get a bunch of posts in a row... i'm just posting these in relative quick succession

[an-inky-fingered-lass]

mr philip j coulson my good sir you hog the pov spotlight like NO ONE i’ve ever met.

do you think you could maybe..... share with may

as in. like. get her to share with you cause i wrote her experiencing emotions and i think she’s pissed at me now.

(sorry may. that’s a really beautiful paragraph you gave me right there. thank you.)

[giuseppe-yuki]

come over, baby!

rancher!oscar piastri x city girl!reader

w.c.: 4.3k

warnings: curse words, heavy allusions to sex, a little bit of ooc!oscar

summary: oscar sneaks you onto his family's ranch. it doesn't go as smoothly as he planned.

a/n: merry christmas to those who celebrate! :) i know i haven't uploaded a real fic in a hot sec so i decided to whip this up real quick!

picture credits from pinterest :)

your trusty mini cooper gives a sharp beep as it locks behind you. its taillights flashes bright, causing the branches of the surrounding eucalyptus trees to cast a looming shadow over you and the dusty road. once the lights dim into nothing, you glance around the dark dirt driveway that was apparently the entrance to your boyfriend’s family’s ranch, according to the text from him on your phone.

you let out a sigh- you could have easily been snuggled up in your bed in your college dorm, facetiming him on your phone, but no- he decided that you should become a top secret spy and drive two hours to his conveniently “close” family ranch at 9pm on a tuesday evening and sneak into his bedroom on the first floor because he felt clingy and wanted to see you “in-person.” 

it honestly only took a few “no one will knowwww!” and a sprinkle of “come on, baby, pleaseeeeee i want to see youuu!” until you found yourself tiptoeing down the pitch black driveway towards the looming two story family ranch house that was seemingly where your boyfriend was located for fall break. anything for love, you suppose.

you squint your eyes at your phone’s bright screen depicting a lengthy message depicting exactly where to “break in” under the contact name “osc 💕” . park underneath the line of trees outside the metal gates- check. sneak through the broken fence three posts next to the main gates- check. walk down the dirt road towards the main house- currently doing so. 

the ranch house is stunningly pretty, with a big patio that housed a few well-worn rocking chairs, a spattering of wildflowers all around, and a big oak tree with a tire swing framing the whole thing. if you weren’t currently on a mission to break into the house itself to see your boyfriend, you would have stayed to admire for awhile.

you locate the window that your boyfriend mentioned further down in the text- the second one on the left side of the house without a window screen (he broke it playing cricket when he was 12, he said). bingo. it honestly wasn’t that hard to find, considering it was only one with the lights on on the first floor. 

sliding your phone, the only light source that you had, into your pocket, you curve your fingers underneath the window pane and slowly slide it up, making sure to make zero noise. 

the first thing you see when you maneuver yourself all sneakily through the window of the quaint little ranch house’s first-floor bedroom is decidedly not your boyfriend, with his swoopy brown-gold hair and polite-cat smile. instead, a pretty young woman with brown shoulder length hair, cowboy boots, and a silver belt in one hand stops and gapes at you on her way to exit the room. 

shit. 

“w-w-who are you?” she asks shakily, shuffling around the bed in the middle of the room and extending the silver belt in front of her like a weapon. she gives the air a few experimental slashes as if telling you- back off, i have a weapon.

you start to rethink your decisions. this was oscar’s house…right?

scrambling out of your awkward position sprawled halfway the window, you scoot nervously away from the rather dangerous-looking belt before speaking. 

“er, hi,” you say in the most non-threatening tone you can muster up after breaking and entering what you assume is this random lady’s house at an inappropriate time of night. 

she doesn’t even give you a chance to explain that this was all a misunderstanding before she yanks the door next to her open and gets ready to, most likely, call the police on you. 

however, before she is able to bolt out the door, a familiar boy steps into view in the doorway. 

oscar.

he takes a second to take in the situation- you standing awkwardly like that meme of robert pattinson in the kitchen, and the woman holding out the silver belt towards you in a menacing way- before he jumps into action. 

“okay…hattie- i can explain,” he exclaims to the woman, slamming the door closed behind him. oscar runs up between you and the still-stunned hattie, which you assume is his sister. 

“do not tell mom, but it’s just my girlfriend, okay?” he pleads. then, looking at the belt in hattie’s hand, he wrinkles his brow. “-and is that my belt?”

hattie hides the belt behind her. 

“um…no?”

with a single eyebrow raise from oscar, hattie sighs exasperatedly. 

“fine, yes, it is. i came into your room to get it for my outfit tomorrow when i caught your-” she peers around oscar,  “‘girlfriend’ literally breaking into our house!” 

“okay, pause!” your boyfriend says, scooting over to the left a little bit to block hattie’s view of you next to the wide-open window. “first of all, why would you take my belt without asking? second of all, she is not breaking into the house if i invited her in first, and third, again, please don’t tell mum.” 

hattie stares at her brother for a second, then peers over his shoulder to look at you, before crossing her arms. “al-right. i won’t tell- only if you do my night duty stuff for the ranch and i get to keep the belt.” 

your boyfriend doesn’t even hesitate before spitting a quick “okay, fine” before shoving his sister out of the room. 

“fuck. you. i. am. never. doing. that. again!” you whisper-shout at oscar, repeatedly smacking him with the hoodie you stripped off moments ago. screw his puppy-dog eyes and his oddly cute bunny-rabbit smile- you were never trusting him again. 

he laughs between the soft smacks from your college-logoed hoodie and pulls you towards him on the bed, effectively halting your attacks.  

“come on, baby!” he drawls, wrapping his arms around you. “it’s fine!”

your hoodie is abandoned on the side as he slides you towards him. your head automatically slots into the crook of his neck like it was made to be there, and you practically melt into his warm body, effectively dissolving the bigger part of your embarrassment and anger away. 

even when you purposefully cross your arms and face away from him after the hug, oscar knows he has already won the way from the fact that you still crawl underneath his blankets with him like you both always did in your dorm back at college. 

he prods you with a finger when you both are snuggled half-way in the blankets and you know that you can’t turn around to face him or else he’s going to press kisses to your face and then your “i’m a bit pissed” facade will surely be broken. you stay back-towards him, but then, he pulls out the ultimate weaponized piece of knowledge that he knows: your ticklish spots. oscar jams his fingers into your side, giggling, and pokes you until you have no choice to squirm back towards him. 

the way you wriggle around the bed ends up with you slotted underneath him. oscar gazes down at you, head tilted. you blink back at him slowly, watching how his brown eyes follow your tongue as you lick your chapped lips.

“you know,” he whispers in that lilting australian accent of his, “this is more what i was thinking we could do when i told you to sneak over into my room.”

“yeah?” you say, teasingly. “well, i’ll be glad to recreate whatever you are thinking of.”

a shy grin spreads across his face, and he sits up to strip his old faded sleeping shirt off his body. 

you just about salivate, seeing the sight of what you have seen what seems to be hundreds of times- his slightly muscular chest dotted with a constellation of stars that you loved to trace- either during a soft night curled on your dorm room bed, or when you lay, spent, on his chest after a lust-filled night.

before you can stop yourself, you reach out on instinct to trace your fingernail down his torso.

just a millisecond before your finger makes contact with his skin, footsteps sound outside his shut door, and the doorknob rattles, resulting in both of you to snap your heads towards the sound.

with some unbelievable reaction time that should probably get him a seat in formula 1, oscar shoves you underneath his stupid blue bedspread, and throws a couple comforters over your covered body- just in case.

are. you. joking. 

you were never trusting oscar again. what the hell were you gonna say to his parents if they found you underneath his blankets? there’s no way in hell they were gonna be easily persuaded like his sister was with a simple belt. what were you going to say? 

oh, i’m sorry mrs. piastri, for  breaking into your son’s bedroom at 9pm on a tuesday night because your son was feeling a bit frisky. 

absolutely not. you would rather die. 

instead, you settle for freezing as still as you can underneath the pitch-black insides of oscar’s pile of blankets and wait for what just be your impending doom.

the door squeaks as it opens, and you hear the scuffling of house shoes, then a pause. 

the person entering the room speaks first. 

“oscar.” a pause. “who were you talking to? and what- what are you doing with your shirt off? why are you kind of sweaty?”

you clock it as a female parental-type voice, which confirms your suspicions that- fuck- it’s probably his mother. 

your boyfriend shuffles nervously above you.

“mum, what?? talking? i wasn’t talking to anyone- i was talking to myself! also, you can’t just, like, break into my bedroom!” he exclaims a little too quickly. “you have to, like, knock! that’s an invasion of privacy!”

“wow, okay, calm down, oscar!” the woman’s voice shoots back. “why are you so defensive? i just heard voices, and i thought- maybe someone had broke in?” 

another pause.

“were you having some…” she trails off. “some- special alone time? a bit of oscar’s happy time?”

oscar’s mother’s insinuations hit both you and your boyfriend at the same time, and you can’t help but clap your hand over your mouth to muffle the laugh that was bubbling up in your throat.

your boyfriend lightly kicks you underneath the covers, which you could directly translate to shut up right now.

“special alone..?!” oscar stutters out, outraged. “no, mum, i was not having some special alone time! please! mum, i’m fine!”

“alright, alright,” his mother remarks, defeatedly. 

the scuffling sound heads towards the door, but stills before you can hear the door open. 

“by the way, your sister said that you were going to do her nighttime chores for her. i don’t know what kind of silly deal you guys struck up, but i expect it to be done by tomorrow, okay?” she adds.

“okay, okay, i got it, mum,” oscar replies hastily. 

“okey-dokey. goodnight, oscar!” his mother says brightly, before you hear the tell-tale sound of the door squeaking shut.

after oscar makes sure the door is completely closed and his mother’s footsteps have disappeared from his bedroom, he yanks his blankets off of you. 

the cool air flows over you, and you take a breath of fresh air. even if you only spent three minutes, tops, inside the stuffy blankets, it really felt like forever. you are sure your clothes are all rumpled from being squished underneath all that weight. 

“sorry, sorry, sorry,” your boyfriend repeats, grasping you and pecking a kiss to your cheek each time. “that was not part of the plan.”

“mhm,” you mutter back. you didn’t mind, honestly, you were just glad mrs. piastri didn’t notice the suspiciously college-girl shaped lump on her son’s bed. 

when oscar pulls off of you, he flashes you a devious grin. 

“you wanna..?” 

he uses his head to gesture towards the bed.

under normal circumstances, you would have thrown oscar to the bed and done multiple inappropriate things to him, but alas, 1) his mom coming in kind of killed the mood, 2) how could you, when his poor sister was likely, like, down the hall? and most importantly, 3) oscar had promised to do his sister’s chores, and you weren’t about to get mama piastri angry the next morning.

“oscar…” you say, trailing off. “don’t you have to do your, you know, chores?”

the gleam of mischievousness in your boyfriend’s eyes immediately falls flat, and his lips turn into a slight frown. 

letting out a rather exaggerated sigh, he slumps forward for a second before slinking towards the door. 

“leave my own mother to cockblock me…” he mutters, throwing on a black hoodie and green cap. 

you are about to let out a giggle, and pull him back on the bed for looking so cute being forlorn, but then, you realize, no, you have to be the voice of reason. 

“come on, oscar, i may be a city girl, but it can’t be that bad, right? i’ll be here all night!”

you are met with your boyfriend’s classic blank stare. 

“o-okay…what if…i went with you?” you suggest, reveling in the way that his gaze lights up.

“sneak out of the window, and meet me at the front of the house in 5,” he remarks, giving you a soft smile. 

what you expect to see at the front of the house is oscar with a shovel or whatever ranchers use to do their nightly chores, but instead, oscar waves at you from inside an entire fucking glowing atv. it has two seats, and entire mini flatbed trunk area, and to top it off, a covered clear canopy over the entire thing. and you thought the usual ranchers’ method of transportation was a freaking horse?? oscar’s family must have really modernized. 

you whisper a quick what-the-fuck before launching yourself into the atv next to your boyfriend. he flashes his usual bunny-rabbit smile at you, before fiddling with a few knobs on the front of the control panel. to your surprise, an entire heating unit starts blasting warm air towards you out of absolutely nowhere. 

huh??? when did atvs have heaters?? 

you don’t even have chance to formulate your thoughts before oscar starts revving the atv like he’s a freaking formula car driver and takes off into the darkness. 

even if you knew close to zero about being a rancher, you trail behind oscar to make sure he doesn’t half-ass his chores. the first task is checking the lights, which doesn’t seem too hard. 

your boyfriend basically speedruns around the barn that you arrive at, flicking at seemingly random places to turn on floodlights that surround the area. 

“for ‘safety’ reasons,” he had said when you asked. 

you take the time to do a 360 around the barn, noting the goats that glance at you curiously from their fenced off area outside in the chill night air. 

when oscar finishes sprinting around, he grasps your hand and leads you back towards the atv. 

“alright, back to my room!” he gasps breathlessly, as he starts the atv back up. 

your mind drifts to the poor goats outside. 

“er, oscar- are the goats supposed to be outside? i would think they deserve to be inside the barn, warm and toasty, no?”

your boyfriend freezes, hand halfway to the wheel. it’s obvious the cogs in his mind are turning. you blink at him once, before he groans and twists the key into the ‘off’ position for the atv. 

typically, you knew your boyfriend as someone who was really hard to irritate, but god, this was really doing a number on him.

oscar bolts toward the gated area that you saw earlier, and easily jumps the fence into the goat’s area. you can’t help but watch in wonder as he herds all the stubborn animals towards the barn’s entrance. most of the goats bleat at him once in annoyance before charging into the warmth of indoors, but you see a few stragglers still in the outdoor pen. a giggle bubbles up in your throat as you see a goat purposefully wedge itself between the fence and the water trough- just enough so oscar couldn’t reach him easily- leading to your boyfriend exclaim in frustration. 

it was funny- if you saw the shy, introverted oscar that was typically shown to others at the college that you both went to together, you were sure that they would have never guessed he was the type to get pissy, curse at goats, and shake his fist at the sky like an old grampa in the dark of night. 

while he was busy with the stubborn goat, you take the chance to climb over metal rungs of the fence and venture into the barn. it was quite cozy looking, with a thin layer of straw-like bedding covering the floor, round bales of hay lining the walls, and, of course, bunches of goats milling around. sitting on an overturned bucket, you watch as the cute goats settle down for the night, bleating happily. 

all of the sudden, a baby goat, (a kid, you find out they are called, later) runs up to you and nibbles at your sleeve. it’s quite adorable, the way it shoves its head under your hand, urging you to pet it. you comply, of course. 

it kind of reminds you of the way oscar often shoves his head under your hands during a long night study session. when he was almost at his breaking point, too tired to shove any more vocab words and formulas into his head, he would lie on you and beg for you to thread your hands into his hair and massage his head. oscar would probably go mental if he saw you give the baby goat treatment that was typically reserved for him.

speaking of the devil, the second your hand lands on the baby goat’s head, oscar storms in with the stubborn goat from earlier squished to his chest. half of your boyfriend’s pant leg is soaking wet, and judging from the way his eyes are drawn to the spot where your hand was softly petting the goat’s head, he was not too happy. 

“are you…okay, osc?” you ask, already knowing the answer. 

after gently letting the offending goat back towards its mates, oscar stands like the standing man emoji in front of you.

“i would like to go.” he responds, face completely deadpan. 

although the goats were pretty cute, you would pick oscar every time. lightly scooching away from the baby goat, you stand up and brush off the pieces of straw and dirt that it knocked into your lap. the goat, probably slightly peeved at the fact that you were leaving, decides to do a gravity defying (?) leap at the shelf behind you, which contained a small square block of hay. 

much to your amazement, the goat jumps off your bucket, and lands nicely on the shelf a good meter above you. 

“don’t you fucking dare,” oscar warns behind you, apparently already guessing the goat’s next step. he runs towards underneath the shelf and pushes you behind him, all the while keeping a eye on the goat as it steps closer and closer to the bale of hay.

it bleats, and pushes the hay with its nose.

the block explodes in midair, completely covering oscar.

for the second time in the day night, you fight to cover your laugh. the poor hay-covered oscar was just about trembling in anger. you hurriedly drag him towards the exit, all the while thanking the gods that what you thought was a darling little goat didn’t just squish your boyfriend.

“come on, baby,” you comfort, parroting the words he had said to you earlier in the night back to him. “it’s fine.”

he huffs, twisting the key of the atv, allowing the heater to effectively blast half of the hay on him straight into your face.

“oh my god, baby, are you okay?” oscar says, eyes wide. he quickly turns the heater down and brushes a few strands of hay off of your head. 

you pretend that you didn’t just feel a strand of hay go down your throat. 

“y-yeah, no problem,” you cough out. “we can just um, head back if that’s what you’d like.”

“right,” he affirms, voice going back to monotone. 

the atv rumbles quietly as he navigates back to the house.

trying to lighten up the mood and fill the awkward silence in the small space of the vehicle, oscar attempts to crack the world’s worst joke using his lust-craved brain. 

“after all that fiasco, i think i deserve the world’s best hea-”

before he can finish (hehe get it?), you cut him off, pointing outside to a potentially dangerous situation for his ranch’s chickens. 

“oscar,” you say pointedly, “i don’t want to burst your bubble, but was bringing the chickens in one of your sister’s chores? ‘cause they’re currently flapping around in an outdoor area, and i’m afraid there’s like foxes or something that are going to eat them.”

your boyfriend slams on the brake pedal, and peeks over your shoulder, confirming the worst news in his head right now- there was yet another job to be done. 

he just about flies out the vehicle, and before you know it, he has wedged himself into the chicken coop. if there is an award for the fastest time to shove like, 15 chickens inside the line of nesting boxes, he would definitely win first. it’s kind of an insane sight.  you even hear a few “get the fuck in,” which is decidedly out of character for oscar to ever say.

every chicken actually makes it indoors, and oscar doesn’t hesitate to slam the chicken coop door shut with a loud bang.

you wish you can say the actual ride back to the house isn’t tense, but then, you’d be lying. by the time oscar pulls up to the side of the house where the only window still has its lights on is the second one without a window screen, you can feel each breath that he takes thrumming its way into your core. 

he barely has a chance to shut off the atv before you cast a sly glance towards him. 

“do you wanna-” 

the way his brown eyes glaze over in want does all the answering for you.

all you know is that after spending an undisclosed amount of time inside of the atv fogging up the plastic cover of the vehicle, you both stumbled back through oscar’s stupid little window on the left side of the house, where you continued your little escapade within the confines of his bedroom. 

the first thing you realize when you wake up is oscar’s bare skin underneath yours. you’re tucked underneath his arm, and one of your legs is entwined with his. 

you shift in his arms, tilt your head, and use a little bit of force to launch yourself upwards to press a kiss on his cheek from your position wedged next to him. 

oscar mutters a “mmm,” with his eyes closed, but you can tell from the many times of waking up next to him that he’s obviously awake. 

poking his bare stomach with a finger, you giggle. 

“i know you’re awake, oscar.”

“nuh-uh,” he shoots back, eyes still closed, grasping your offending finger with his hand and holding your arm away from him.

you untuck your other hand from under the blanket, and move to boop his stomach again. 

however, before you are able to, the footsteps come to the door and the doorknob jiggles.

oh. my. fucking. god. not this again.

oscar, like the night before, strategically shoves you under his blankets roughly. 

this time, you wedge yourself in a way where you can see the doorway through a crack in the blankets before the door swings open.

a nice-looking woman with straight brown short hair and a white sweatshirt with big block letters that spell out, “y u k i” walks in. his mom, you suppose. behind her stands the girl you saw the day before, hattie, who has her hand clasped over her mouth, trying to stop her giggles from escaping. 

oscar’s mom speaks first, clasping her hands together. 

“good morning, oscar!” she exclaims, placing her hands on her hips. “did you want some breakfast?”

“er,” your boyfriend says, staying very still. 

then, you see oscar’s mom approaching you. 

she neatly pulls off the part of the blanket covering your head, effectively blinding you from the bright light from the window, while also turning you into the surface of the sun from the way your cheeks heat up from embarrassment of being exposed literally out of nowhere. 

“and maybe your girlfriend would like some breakfast too instead of being shoved underneath your dirty blankets?” 

when oscar doesn’t answer, his mother shakes her head and sighs. “wow, oscar, i thought i taught you better than treating guests this way.”

you wrap oscar’s blankets around you, thanking god that his mother had not decided to yank all the blankets off your entire body.

hattie decides this is the moment that she cannot hold her laugh anymore and flees the doorway. you can still hear her little giggles in the hallway.

your boyfriend stutters out angrily, “b-but hattie promised-”

“no, don’t ‘hattie’ me. she didn’t out you.” his mother states calmly. “i was a teen too, once. do you really think i wouldn’t see the footsteps in the mud? your giggling at 3am? the quite honestly- nasty- handprints on the fogged up atv plastic? also, the quite obvious lump that was on your bed-” 

she shakes her head, wagging a finger at her son.

turning to you, however, she brightens up significantly. “anyways, i don’t blame you a smidgen for oscar’s actions, darling. call me nicole. now, how would you like your toast and eggs?”

a/n: bonus points if you can recognize what movie + scene i referenced when mama piastri walks for the first time 🤭

[enzosbabyangel]

ཐི⋆♱⃓⋆ཋྀ Daydreaming about being Pansy’s free use doll…

cw: 18+!, mdni, using a rabbit vibrator, scratching, mean!Pansy, degradation, praise like once lol, fem!reader

a/n: thank you to @nemesyaaa for giving me this idea when she reblogged my other pansy post from my val event 😮‍💨 Have another Pansy fic in the works.. I wrote this mainly to try and help with my terrible writers block lately :,)

A moan tore out of your throat and into the pillow that you were clinging onto. Your feet kicking the mattress of Pansy’s bed while she plunged a rabbit vibrator in and out of your pussy. The speed of her hand unrelenting.

“Too much!” You whined as you finally stopped stuffing your face into the pillow. Looking back behind you towards Pansy with a tear streaked face. Your body slick with sweat, resulting in stands of your hair sticking to your face.

You didn’t get to see much before Pansy’s hand was forcing your head back down into the pillow roughly. Her manicured nails scratching the skin of your face.

“Shut up and just take it.” Pansy said, voice holding almost no emotion despite the way her own cunt throbbed while watching you squirm and beg for a break.

You whined as more of your spit pooled out of your mouth and onto the pillow. Your eye’s rolling into the back of your head at the pleasure and Pansy’s words. “Pleasee,” You choked out. Your poor ‘lil cunt feeling like it was on fire due to the overstimulation of Pansy using your pussy for relief for the past half hour with a variety of different toys.

Pansy’s eyes narrowed, feeling a tinge of annoyance at your constant pestering. Her hand lifting off your face, just to place a harsh smack to your cheek. Her hand returning to pushing your head roughly into the pillow with zero care as to how you felt. “I said shut up. Stop trying to speak and bargain with me as if i’d listen to you.”

Her words were rough. She pushed the stupid vibrator deep. The bunny ears rubbing against your clit in such a delicous and painful way. “Came here to try and calm down.” Pansy started again. Not moving the toy and instead letting ripples of painful pleasure shoot through your body. The soft hum of the vibrations heard in the background and mixing with Pansys words. “But all you’re doing is making me more fucking annoyed. So just fucking shut up before i make this even worse for you. K?”

Your pouted. Yet another pathetic whine escaping your lips, though your body betrayed you as your plush, overstimulated walls tightened around the vibrator.

“F-fine..” You finally uttered. Resulting in a please hum leaving Pansy’s throat and lips.

“Good girl.”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . written by enzosbabyangel, 2025 on tumblr! © do not repost on any third party website or repost as yours. Doing so will result in me blocking you and reporting.

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 16!

well it's been a wild week... i just want to quickly point out that i'm not a major angst reader (not without a happy ending, at least) and when i'm searching for fics, one of the very first filter options i click is the one to exclude mcd fics, so. i'm sure there's tons of beautiful, beautiful post-8x15 fics being written, but you probably won't find them on my rec lists.

please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some contain spoilers for season 8. and if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

between something and nothing | taegyungie | 11.8k | E

It all begins with a heated conversation: “What, you want me to fuck you in your sleep?” this both has some truly beautiful prose and is also mindblowingly hot. if you're looking for freak4freak explicit buddie, you can't really go wrong with this author's fics tbh and i'm so here for it!!

can we go home? | carpediaz/@sofa-king-lame | 1.8k | GA

The one where Eddie and Christopher figure out why everything in El Paso feels wrong and fix it. i love how eddie is written here!! this is soft and sweet <3 it's partially set during golden hour and it feels like such a golden hour of a fic, if that makes sense? just so good!!

coming right back home to you | justhockey | 7k | T

And this is good, it’s great, it’s more than Buck ever imagined he would find for himself. More than he ever thought he would be trusted with. But there’s that part of him that lurks just beneath his ribcage - the selfish, greedy part - that longs for more than this. For more than just a few evenings a week, hanging out like friends do, pretending like it doesn’t break his heart to love Eddie in a way that Eddie could never love him back. such a lovely one <3 i love how this one captures how buck sees eddie and the found family is so good!!

grown with care | coldbam/@coldbam | 8.1k | E

Buck and Christopher start a garden. Eddie is in love. this fic genuinely makes me want to grow a garden (i have a massive black thumb and zero garden space so this will not work lmao) but like that goes to show just how good this is. the best pieces of writing are always inspirational, i think, and this is definitely that <3

i want your flowers like babies want god's love | Daisies_and_Briars/@cal-daisies-and-briars | 17.5k | E

In Texas, after a setback with Chris and his parents, Eddie is forced to confront his inner child. Literally. i love how this captures both eddies!! and their interactions were the best, as was buck with little eddie. so lovely <3

if i stay here i'll never leave | napricot | 5.2k | E

Buck looks after Eddie, after the events of "Eddie Begins". i have such a soft spot for post-eddie begins fics <3 this is soft and tender and just so incredibly beautiful!!

i'm only honest when it rains | 061828 | 3.9k | T

the four days following the well collapse. this is such a beautiful look at eddie's mindset during and after the well collapse!! i love how he's written in this one <3

international let's hug day | KejfeBlintz/@kejfeblintz | 1.3k | GA

Eddie was yawning his way through fastening his uniform shirt when the door was flung open. Before he even really registered someone else’s presence, a body flung itself into his back and two strong arms clamped around him, squeezing tight. this is the kind of fic that immediately makes me want, like, ten more that are almost exactly the same, that's how much it hit the spot <3 so fluffly, so good!!

keeping score | arcanaphora | 23.2k | M

After getting dumped, Buck is left with two tickets to a weeklong cruise. Eddie steps in to support a friend in need, but complications arise when his friend becomes his fake husband. All's fair in love, war, and trivia. cruise ship trivia fake dating?? a string of words i never thought i'd put together but that delights me so very much. this is beautiful and fun and such a good time!!

on my last strength against you | markofalover/@markofalover | 9.1k | E

Eddie could just use his words, but where’s the fun in that? honestly yes eddie this is much more fun!! why do that when you could just wear a crop top instead? this is fun and hot and just <3 also the bird feeder!!

risotto | mandolare/@rainscenes | 2.5k | T

Eddie listens to the music coming in from the living room; to the sounds of Buck washing up, the rustling of clothes, the tell-tale spritz of cologne, the mere anticipation of it all making Eddie actually salivate. He is hungry, but more than that he almost doesn’t care to eat the food, not right now, only really looking forward to watching Buck take the first bite; the way he closes his eyes every single time as if he’s eating at a three-star restaurant, not Eddie’s— their— dining table. this is the most wonderful read!! i love when eddie cooks in fics and this whole setup is so, so good <3

room for two | 42hrb/@exhuastedpigeon | 3.3k | E

“Dude, you’re not sleeping on the couch, you pay half the rent,” Eddie pushes Buck into the bedroom when he walks out of the bathroom on the third night of Buck’s 4 off. He’s almost dreading Eddie coming back to work next shift, then he’ll have no reprieve. “I promise I don’t bite — not unless you ask nicely.” this is so soft and sweet and also hot and also so beautifully written <3 so good!!

slide into home base | sibylsleaves/@jeeyunspetrat | 5.1k | E

Eddie's the star pitcher of the 118's intramural softball team. Buck is the assistant coach who has a few pointers for him. ohh my god the vision that is this fic!! so hot, so good, so very buddie <3