#ali's ficlets

[angel-wings-and-tattoos]

steddie modern college au!!

eddie and steve go to the same college but meet on tinder. eddie is 100% an awkward, gangly nerd and the only reason he's even on tinder in the first place is because his friends made his account as a joke on night.

steve is mildly more interested in him than the other people he's matched with as they chat back and forth, mostly because eddie doesn't play games. he is very straightforward, if a little bit of a clumsy texter at times. for steve, this is practically a breath of fresh air. the first time they hook up, it's very obvious how new this is for eddie. steve has no idea why, but inexperienced partners have always gotten him going more than anything else. where eddie is lacking in experience, he makes up for with an abundance of enthusiasm, which means steve can easily guide eddie exactly how he wants him.

(which, needless to say, does it for both of them).

throughout high school and college, steve has been through his fair share of partners, situationships, and hook-ups. this one shouldn't be any different and, honestly? at first it isn't. he likes eddie enough to keep seeing him but they don't see each other more than once or twice a week.

one night, post hook-up, eddie is visibly nervous as he faux-casually asks steve if he's ever heard of dungeons and dragons. steve, who came down from his orgasm less than five minutes before, just hums noncommittally. he looks over at eddie and has the conscious thought that the last thing he wants to do is hurt eddie's feelings (and steve himself is sated and comfortable enough that he would probably agree to pretty much anything at that moment) so he says something along the lines of oh, my friends from high school used to play it and it looked fun, they liked it but i never tried playing.

eddie just lights up.

he is more excited than he's trying to let on and steve can't help but find it adorable. eddie asks if he would like to join their little group that plays on saturday nights and, again, steve is struck with the urge to keep that smile on eddie's face. however, he still has some standards so he decides to meet in the middle. so, no, he doesn't quite want to play it with other people but, if you want, you can show me how to play. maybe even fill out a character sheet or something.

and boy, that was apparently the right thing to say, because steve gets another orgasm pretty shortly after. the first time eddie tries to teach steve about anything dnd related, steve very quickly realizes it's just a direct view into how to turn eddie on faster. the 'lesson' lasts for less than 10 minutes before it just devolves into hooking-up, just involving role-play.

steve has never seen that particular look on eddie's face before and he finds it extremely entertaining that it was steve's stupid accent (he was trying to be a british dude in a tavern, but it came across more australian) that put it there.

so they see each other slightly more after that, but still no more than three times a week, texting a little here and there. steve doesn't really do commitment and he's ghosted people many times before for being too clingy, so it doesn't really register as anything out of the ordinary that they really only text to hook-up. it's when they're in eddie's bed again that eddie brings up the club for a second time. just to come watch a session or two, i think that you'll like it. steve agrees easily at the time, again, sated and agreeable.

later, the more he thinks about it, steve feels like eddie is manipulating him. he only ever asks for things immediately after sex and that feels like its on purpose. it's not like he's asked for anything outside of steve's comfort zone, but still. it takes a few days of low-key stewing about it before steve's horniness overrides his pride and he texts eddie for the first time in a week. eddie responds within 10 seconds of his text and steve is hit with how different eddie is compared to everyone else he's been involved with over the years.

eddie doesn't even know that there are games he should be playing, he just texts steve whenever he sees the notification, no waiting to text back or intentionally ignoring him. steve also realizes that the only time they ever talk outside of planning to meet up is directly after hooking up so no wonder eddie ambushes him then. it's the only time steve has shown any openness to talking about things he's interested in. they hook-up, and eddie doesn't mention steve coming to the club this time, it's steve that hesitantly asks how its going.

the next day, steve sees something that reminds him of eddie. its a stupid poster hanging up in the second floor of the psych building. he walks past it, but the damage is already done. he's thinking about eddie now and, most likely, that will continue for the rest of the day. out of nowhere, steve is kind of sad that they don't text each other more often, which he sets out to fix immediately.

this particular idea leads to a mildly embarrassing, if not entertaining (according to robin, at least), miscommunication where eddie thinks steve is trying to booty call him at 11 AM and very awkwardly rejects him because he has a class in 20 minutes.

steve is very much not thinking about why it kinda turns him on that eddie would turn down sex in order to go to a class they both know he as a 100% A and a flawless attendance record in.

they start texting more, then actually hanging out without the expectation of hooking up and it hits steve that he wouldn't mind actually dating eddie. but something stops him from actually making it official. steve has approximately a million hang ups, mommy and daddy issues, commitment issues; just a list of problems a mile long.

he knows for a fact that the second him and eddie get into a fight, steve will verbally rip him to shreds. steve feels sick to his stomach thinking about it and they're not even in a relationship. and who's to say eddie even wants to be in one? he hasn't shown any signs at all of having an issue with what they already have and who is steve to assume he even wants more from him?

compared to steve, eddie is practically a ray of fucking sunshine, endless grins and loud laughter and texting back immediately. it makes steve want to cry, thinking about it sometimes. steve has no business being involved with him at all but he can't quite stop himself from texting eddie. steve thinks he might be in love with eddie but at the same time, does he even know how to be in love with someone else? he's not sure he's ever actually experienced it long enough to know. steve's one experience with love ended in a party bathroom and even now, 5 years later, the smell of a specific kind of punch still makes him nauseous.

steve understands that he's practically a walking commitment issue. that being said, as the week goes on, he decides that eddie is worth the effort of getting over himself. with help from robin, he finally works up the courage to actually ask eddie to be his boyfriend.

turns out, eddie already thought they were dating, so imagine his confusion when steve showed up to his apartment with flowers, asking him to officially be his boyfriend.

(in eddie's defense, he's never done this before, alright? steve and him were fucking regularly and hanging out a couple times a week, that sounded like dating to him.)

---

i'm just obsessed with the idea that eddie never really put himself out there for fear of getting bullied and so he just. never really thought about getting into a relationship. here comes steve, this confident, hot jock that has no reason to be talking to him in the first place but for some godforsaken reason likes him enough to keep seeing him. he's initially embarrassed by the fact that he has little to no experience, but steve does something specific with his tongue and all of eddie's higher brain functions cease for about an hour. eddie very very quickly becomes sort of obsessed with steve, but he is socially aware enough to back off a little so he doesn't scare him away. eddie just thinks that steve doesn't text very often and isn't that affectionate outside of sex, so he doesn't push at all. he is so indescribably blind-sided when steve shows up at his door and very charmingly asks if eddie wants to be his bf. after that, it's like a fucking floodgate opens. steve and eddie are practically attached at the hip and, when they're not together, steve is almost constantly texting him. eddie had no idea what he was getting into but he can't describe how obsessed with steve he is, especially when steve confesses that he thinks he's in love with him.

essentially i'm just projecting my issues onto steve and i really think that a cute, enthusiastic nerd would fix both mine and steve's relationship problems.

[lihhelsing]

Steve’s tired. He’s wearing a tux and his head is starting to hurt and this interviewer is nice but he’s just one in what it feels like an infinite line of them. 

That’s what he gets for being nominated for the Emmy’s this year, it was what Robin said to him.

She’s right, of course.

He blinks and focus back on the interviewer. He’s asking him to explain that one scene on the show when he performed a long action sequence and Steve does it. 

It wasn’t that hard, with his athletic background. He actually had fun.

The interviewer laughs. Steve isn’t funny but he’s glad he’s entertaining someone. Knows some actors can be real assholes out here on the red carpet. 

He sees Robin on his peripheral waving at him to let him know it’s time to wrap this up and move on.

There’s still a few interviews to get through before the actual ceremony. And then a bunch more if he somehow wins. 

Then he feels a presence on his back and Eddie Munson’s face pops in, smiling at him. One of his hands wrap around Steve’s waist.

“Isn’t he delightful?” Eddie says with that tone that makes Steve’s inside all mushy. The interviewer nods, fascinated by this interaction. 

“You’re delightful,” Steve says, trying to look at him but it’s real hard when Eddie’s head is propped on his shoulder.

“Gonna save you a seat inside, sweetheart.” 

Eddie winks at him and Steve cackle, throwing his head back a little. 

He feels Eddie’s hand squeezing at his waist and it makes him lightheaded. 

“Any plans on working together again? You two were brilliant!”

Steve has to give it to him. He’s fast with the questions. A good interviewer. 

“I’m game if you are,” Eddie says. 

Steve knows that. They talked about it. The show blew up because of their insane chemistry on screen. 

Their agents, Robin and Chrissy, are already looking into other projects

“I’d follow you to hell,” Steve says. It’s a joke and Eddie laughs, pretending to be flattered.

“See you inside?” Eddie asks and Steve nods, suddenly feeling a burst of energy. Eddie has that ability. It was helpful during long days of shooting. “A kiss for good luck?”

Steve laughs but nods, thinking Eddie is going to kiss his cheek. But no, he goes straight for his mouth.

It’s just a peck, but Steve feels his cheeks burning and before he can react Eddie is moving, lost in the sea of people on the red carpet.

Steve turns his face to the interviewer and from the red dot on the camera he knows this is live. He sighs, has to stand his ground despite wanting to run away. 

“Well. That was sweet. So are you two dating?”

Steve sighs, shakes his head. 

“No. He’s just a brat.”

[alieinthemorning]

Sunflowers [Grim | Casper]

Content: Fluff, POV Second Person, Spoilers

Pronouns: None

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries

Sunflowers are supposed to follow the sun, this is a fact.

However, they were facing you now, despite the fact that there were sun rays directly hitting. You tilted your head at them, reaching a hand forward to brush across the petals.

You swore that the flower moved closer into your palm.

"I wonder if Casper's really right about my soul…"

Not only was your soul like a mirage, a bright light hidden by a misty smog, but it was also capable of healing others—

"By giving a bit of myself…" You sighed, pulling your hand from the flower.

How did you receive this, you assumed it was a blessing, since you weren't accidentally stealing other people's souls to live longer or something. So a blessing, but how and why? You've been like this since you were younger, so you're pretty sure you've had it since birth, but you're also pretty sure no one in your family could use magic. But you also did just recently find out that Grim Reapers were real and not just something out of fiction.

And then you began to think about what that really meant for you. Would you truly just…cease to exist one day? Yeah, your life mainly consisted of going to work and chilling at home (with the occasional side quest of doing something else), but that didn't mean that you were ready to give it all up.

Your gaze found the sunflowers again.

"Sunshine…"

You also weren't ready to give him up yet, either.

You've never felt such an intense pull toward someone in your entire life, and you've only known Casper for less than a week.

Hell, you didn't even know his name was Casper until last night!

But…loving him…feels right. You should love him openly and wholly, and you were sure he'd do the same.

Your love for each other really were like sunflowers.

You smiled as your fingers brushed the yellow petals. "I guess you accidentally choose something with a double meaning, huh, Casper?"

I TOLD Y'ALL THAT THE FAN WAS FICCING

AND HERE WE ARE

Ahem. Anyway.

I love him very much.

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

[devirnis]

brushing a strand of hair away for Buddie or Madney? :)

we could be corny

Rating: G Relationship: Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Maddie Buckley/Chimney Han Word count: 1.7k

“Eddie,” Buck whispers – or, well, Chimney thinks he’s trying to whisper, but Buck’s at that stage of tipsy where he’s lost control of his volume. “How come you never do that for me?” Eddie looks up from where he’s been scrutinizing his resource cards. “Do what for you?” he asks. “That.” Buck gesticulates wildly towards Chimney and Maddie, nearly knocking his wine over in the process; Eddie just manages to pull the glass to safety. “Brush my hair behind my ears.”

Or, Chim and Maddie have Buck and Eddie over for their first official couples’ game night.

(read on ao3)

[screwzara]

Hmm, yes. My Eternal struggle of restraining myself from making too many AUs at once-

AUs shown in this pic:

ViraBot Malfunction AU - Animation vs Animator

AxoTurtle Twin AU - RotTMNT

Gympie Filled Cauldrons AU - Cookie Run Kingdom

Long Distance Friendship AU - Ejen Ali x Boboiboy

[Unnamed For Spoiler Prevention] - Epic Mickey

Nuuuu it won't let me add more tags-

Tag section(continued) go brrrr

#ali and bbb be in their own world #mickey notices Oswald brooding in the corner... Does he check on him #yes yes he does cuz he wants to be there for him *:)* #to think i reached the tag limit #first time too #yay! :D

[scaryscarecrows]

"We are never working for a billionaire again," Jason grinds out, bracing against the door as it thuds into his back. "Goddamn parasites--"

"He said zoo, he didn't specify this!"

THUD.

THUD.

THUD.

SCREE!

"I'm just saying--"

"No shit--"

"Less fighting, more holding the door!" Jimmy shouts from the computer. Antoine shudders as the door thuds again.

"How did you miss the goddamn dinosaurs?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see 'animal V' and assume it meant Velociraptor!"

"Rogers, I swear to God," Jason pants, "if these things eat us, your ass is fired."

[dream-beyond-the-fantasy]

Eavesdropping (2)

@allvalley100 My second attempt at the “Eavesdropping” prompt.  Set in the Julie-verse, or before Chapter 5 of Is This Love? *****

Julie was left alone in the living room.  Usually, she wouldn’t mind.  But Johnny just tossed the remote in her lap, told her not to do anything stupid or dangerous, and ran off upstairs with Ali.

It’s been over an hour.  Now, she’s hungry.  Time to find her brother.

The door isn’t fully closed.  She listens and starts to peek inside.

Bodies writhing.  Kissing.  Moaning.  Grunting.

“Yes, Johnny!  There!”

“Ali, I’m gonna --”

Julie shuts the door quickly and quietly.  Her heart beating frantically, she unsteadily makes her way back downstairs.

Once they come down, Julie acts as if nothing happened.

[amstories]

S04E02: Dumating Man Ang Gabi

Pairing: Alys x Neru from Brownout (Lights Off) (East Anderson High, #2)

Prompt: Fluff Bingo - Going on a picnic

Wala na naman akong makita. Nilagyan kasi ako ni Neru ng piring e. Buti na lang siya yung naglagay ng blindfold sa akin kung hindi baka umiyak na naman ako dahil sa dilim.

"Saan mo ba kasi ako dadalhin?" tanong ko sa kanya. Nagbabaka-sakali lang akong sasagutin na niya ngayon kasi kanina pa niya ako hindi sinasagot.

"Basta. Hawak ka lang sa kamay ko. Hindi naman kita pababayaan e," sagot niya.

Mas hinigpitan ko ang hawak sa kamay niya nang makatapak ako ng malambot. "Neru, nasaan ba kasi tayo?"

"Ito na, malapit na..." sabi niya saka ako hinigit nang dahan-dahan.

Madalas ganito ang relasyon namin ni Neru. Hindi ko alam kung saan kami pupunta. Kung saan niya ako dadalhin. Basta't alam kong kasama ko si Neru, sasama pa rin ako. Kapag kasi kasama ko siya, alam kong hindi niya ako pababayaan.

Sa tuwing sumasama ako sa kanya kahit hindi ko alam kung saan kami papunta, palaging worth it naman. Never siyang pumalya sa mga ganito.

Dahan-dahan niyang tinanggal ang piring sa mata ko. Sa pagdilat ko, sumalubong sa akin ang sinag ng araw kaya hindi ko agad nabuksan ang mga mata ko. Pero nang maidilat ko na ito ng maayos, nakita ko kung gaano kaganda ang paglubog ng araw. Para itong painting na ginawa ng mahusay na pintor. Naghalo ang mga kulay pula, kahel, at dilaw sa langit.

"Neru, ang ganda." Manghang-mangha ako sa nakikita ko ngayon. "Bakit mo ako dinala rito?"

"Para maalala mo na lumulubog man ang araw at maaaring maghari ang dilim sa gabi, sisikat at sisikat ulit ito sa umaga," sabi niya habang hinahawakan ang magkabilang pisngi ko.

My lips pursed because of what he said. Wala na rin akong masabi sa kanya saka niyakap siya nang mahigpit.

"Halika na. Nagdala pa ako ng kakainin natin," sabi niya sa gitna ng yakapan namin.

Kaya ganun nga ang ginawa namin. Kumain at nagkwentuhan kami habang papalubog ang araw. Di baleng unti-unting kinakain ng dilim ang araw. Basta't kasama ko si Neru hanggang sa gabi.

[thedragonagelesbian]

I'm not at the part of the book where we learn that protag killing a fey to trigger the treaty and her kidnapping were all staged but i AM at the part where protag is feeling most profoundly her guilt about killing the fey, and knowing the twist thats coming, it rings so so so hollow because even this singular moment of doing a genuinely bad hateful thing is justified and excused by the narrative because that was actually the plan all along

[joeloverture]

sea-cret obsession | j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | updates blog pairing: dad's enemy!yachter!joel miller x f!reader summary: [no outbreak] your dad's always had a superiority complex when it comes to his place at austin's finest yacht club. when joel miller joins the club, not only does he dethrone your dad — he also becomes your newest obsession. warnings: (18+ mdni) yachter!joel, dad's enemy!joel, age gap (mid 20s/mid 50s), alcohol, joel is implied to be older than reader's dad - don't read too far into it, reader wears a bikini (anyone can, i promise!), fantasizing, creepyish joel but reader's into it, soft!dom joel, porn with a paper-thin plot, m!receiving oral, throatfucking, facial, cum-eating, f!masturbation, blowjob in the captain's chair, daddy kink (oops), thigh riding, dirty talk, praise, degradation, pet names, aftercare [no use of y/n] word count: 2.9k a/n: this was supposed to be a ficlet for @iamasaddie's ✏️game. this is not a ficlet. please suspend your disbelief, this concept simply fell into my lap the moment i saw the wonderful moodboard aly put together for me. go check out the other fics, most of which are much shorter than mine and are absolute brain candy, that stemmed from aly's game!

Austin is hotter than the hinges on the gates of Hell, and you haven’t stopped sweating bullets since climbing out of Lake Travis. After an afternoon of floating belly-up in your bikini off of the dock of the yacht club your dad frequents, your need for a drink finally outweighed your need for aimless swimming.

Your bare feet are still burning from the hotfooted walk across the wooden deck into the bar. Water droplets cling to your skin and leave a pattern of stippled concrete in your wake. It’s been a few hours you’ve seen your dad around the club, having already gotten into a pissing contest with new club members over horsepower and amenities. Your dad’s the type to always want the biggest and the best: the most decks, the biggest wine fridge, the nicest galley — because God forbid he lose his running ten-year superiority to a newbie.

So yeah, you need a drink. You don’t even have to order; the bartender, Callie, simply slides your usual order over, which you nurse while watching a preseason football game. You haven’t bothered to sit down, your hip popped out with your elbows propped up on the granite countertop.

You don’t even notice the wolf whistle from behind is directed at you until a man sidles up next to you, flashing a smile at Callie. He looks like he belongs in a yacht club, curls styled and sculpted neatly around his face down to where the collar of his blue blazer begins. Some of the buttons on his striped shirt are undone, and your eyes, much to your chagrin, linger at the slice of tanned chest peeking through the fabric.

He looks you up and down, unabashedly licking his lips when he sees the crease of your thighs. “Sweetheart, you’re much too pretty to be entertainin’ the ragtag kinda men around here.”

It’s not the first time you’ve been hit on by the yachters at this particular club, but it is the first time one of them has caught your eye. “I’m not–” you start before you hear the telltale sign of your dad’s laughter coming from close by. You turn around, drink in hand as he rounds the corner, sunglasses on and a towel around the back of his neck. 

Your dad’s expression immediately sours with a speed you’ve never seen in him before. His lips draw tight at the sight of you – or maybe the sight of the man next to you.

“Joel,” your dad says, separating from his entourage. He wraps a protective arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. “I see you’ve met my daughter.”

“Seems it,” the man, presumably Joel, nods, flagging down Callie for an old fashioned. The glass sweats condensation along his sturdy hand. He holds eye contact with you while he sips, only looking away when he runs his tongue along the rim of the glass. “Oughta let me take ‘er for a ride one day. Bet she’d appreciate the fine machinery of a real boat.”

You don’t miss the innuendo to his words even if your dad doesn’t. You scrub your hands along your sides, your sunscreen-sticky skin dewy beneath your palms. You shush the part of yourself that bets you’d appreciate it, too.

“Your boat is maybe good for getting to the retirement home across the lake,” your dad snaps, squeezing your shoulder. He pushes his sunglasses up his nose. “C’mon, kiddo, let’s head home.”

You find your flip flops at the bottom of your beach bag, barely having the time to kick them on before your dad is practically pulling you out of the yacht club. He gives half-hearted waves to his usual boating buddies until you’re in the parking lot, surrounded by heat shimmering over the blacktop. The scalding hot leather seats burn the backs of your thighs and the small of your back as you settle in. With a purr, the air conditioner blows a fresh burst of wind in your face.

“What was that all about?” you ask when he starts the engine.

Your dad clips his sunglasses on his polo shirt, gripping the steering wheel ten and two with a winded sigh through his nose. “Fuckin’... rookie with his triple-decker Ferretti.”

Joel looked rich. But not Ferretti rich. “Who the hell in Austin owns a Ferretti?”

“That son of a bitch, that’s who. I don’t want you runnin’ amok on Joel’s boat, you hear me?”

“Ain’t planning on it,” you respond as if you don’t already know what’ll happen if Joel propositions you again.

You see Joel again soon, but only in passing. A wink behind your father’s back, a drink from the gentleman across the bar that was only coincidentally Joel. The locations of these run-ins are always different. Sometimes you walked by each other on the dock. Sometimes he’d give you both a quick wave from across the water before he sped off, leaving the boat rocking on the stirred up tide and your dad cussing up a storm.

Today’s almost-tryst happens on the dock. You’re walking past Joel’s designated dock in a bikini that you’d nearly thrown out because of its snug fit. You have to smother your disappointment when you don’t see him on the top deck sipping a beer. You know better than to be disappointed over the man who your dad has not only claimed as a mortal enemy, but also claimed as the antichrist. With the thoughts Joel gives you when your hand is between your thighs, it might not be too far from the truth.

You think you have most of it figured out – he’s rough, he has to be. With how relentless as he is on the waters, it makes no sense for him to be anything else. His fancy, custom belt buckles snicking as it comes undone so he can yank his jeans down and get inside of you. Those chains he always wears would hang in your face, swaying with every roll of his hips into yours as he chases his pleasure deep inside of your–

“Woah there, darlin’,” a honeyed voice coaxes you, a muscled arm darting out to stop you in your path. “Almost walked right into the lake.” Your head snaps up to look at Joel, the very inconvenient object of your fantasies. You swallow the quickly-forming lump in the back of your throat. “You sure you ain’t had too many?”

“Positive,” you say. You haven’t even done a shot s0 far today.

“Mmm, alright.” The playful glint in his eyes doesn’t seem too convinced. It makes your heart stutter before you remind it to keep beating. “Tell ya what, you’re welcome to ‘sober up’ on my boat.”

You look between where your dad’s dock sits empty. He’s out with his co-workers today, shooting the shit too much for their own good. Then you look between Joel and his boat, the beauty of a Ferretti that’s just two steps away.

Mouth already watering at the possibilities, you say, “I do remember you promising me a ride, old man.”

Joel’s lips curl into a knowing smirk, and he makes the long step from the dock to the boat, hand held out for you. You don’t hesitate to let him help you aboard. 

You’re on your knees in front of the captain’s chair before he gets to the middle of Lake Travis. “Old man,” he mocks above you with his legs spread as far as they can go. You kitten-lick his hardened cock, making sure to lap up the obscene amount of his precum. There’s certainly one part of Joel that doesn’t need to go to a retirement home, and it’s in your mouth. You suckle at the leaking head of his cock while his strokes your cheek, only pulling away to spoon a drop of his precum from your lip onto your tongue. “You like suckin’ an older man’s cock, pretty girl?”

You nod eagerly, taking him deeper so you can tongue the vein along the underside of his cock. From that, he groans, head slumping on the headrest so he can gather himself. You spit a generous amount into your hand, wrapping around the base to properly suck him.

“Bet there’s a whole ‘nother lake in that skimpy lil’ bikini of yours, ain’t that right?” You nod around his length and go a little deeper. He’s heavy on your tongue, long and girthy all at once. He presses lightly against the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him, but you wouldn’t pull away from him even if the yacht itself set on fire. He moans as you start to bob your head up and down. You rub your thighs together just thinking about what his cock could be capable of between your legs. “Mhm, I know, baby. You wanna push that outta the way and give it a rub for me? A rub for your real daddy?”

A choked whimper punches its way out of you. His hips jerk from the vibrations, unintentionally pushing himself further down your throat. You expect it to be too much, but it isn’t. You pull away from him, taking a quick breath as you wrap your hand around the wide palm seated on his thigh and raise it to the back of your head. “Please fuck my throat, daddy,” you pout up at him, a mixture of your spit and his precum dripping down your chin and into your cleavage.

Another groan tugs its way out of him when he looks down at you. He cups the back of your head and brings his cock back to your mouth. “Can’t say no to such a gorgeous fuckin’ face. Gonna look so damn good covered in my cum.” You keep licking his tip, not wanting to miss a single drop of him. “Go ‘head and put a hand on your pussy, baby. Rub that clit that daddy’s got all throbbin’.”

And how could you ever say no to him? Your hand is down your bikini within seconds, peeling your tacky panties away from your cunt so your fingertips can rub circles along your clit. A circle against your swollen core pulls a moan from you right as he thrusts into your throat. He starts out slow, tentative as he pushes all the way into your throat and then pulls all the way out. His second thrust is much harder, stifling your breathing for a moment as a strangled noise of pleasure leave his parted lips.

He nudges you further down onto his cock, burying your nose into the triangle of skin exposed by his rumpled button-down. You force down the gag that builds in the back of your throat. Joel keeps your mouth speared on his cock with shallow rolls of his hips into the warm wetness of your mouth. You whine, prompting a hearty chuckle from him. “Good girl, daddy’s good little girl. Keep playin’ with yourself for me.” He smirks down at you. “Ain’t much different than what you do in your own bed, huh? Pussy just cryin’ for some cock, I bet.”

You moan in agreement as your eyes flutter shut when you rub your clit harder, harder, harder until arousal is smeared all over your knuckles and across your mound. “Nuh-uh,” he says with a punctuating adjustment of his hips. You gag, spit webbing through Joel’s happy trail. “Eyes on me.”

You’re satisfied to find him just as debauched as you feel. Strands of his usually put-together hair are out of place along his forehead, and his golden chain glistens with sweat. His hands grip the arms of the captain’s chair, spread on the tanned leather and exerting dominance over your kneeling silhouette. But you aren’t fooled. There’s a certain rosiness to his cheeks, a flare to his nose, that lets you in on the secret: he’s just as wrecked, just as in deep as you are.

You pull up and immediately sink down on his cock again, pleading eyes looking up at him, asking him. I want it daddy. I want you. And then he’s fucking your throat in earnest. His hips buck up to meet the back of your throat. You struggle to keep up with his size, his pace, but you suck his cock even with the knowledge that you won’t know how to explain your sore throat or raspy voice to your dad.

Joel squints down at you, absorbing the seeping spit from the corners of your raw lips, your droopy, ecstasy-laden eyes. He sighs, sinking down into the chair as he grinds his cock into your mouth and moves your head up and down his length. You take the hand that isn’t playing with your clit and reach to grab at his balls, kneading them. A narrow breath trips out of his lips. “Nasty bitch. Fuck, baby. Daddy’s close. Keep – keep doin’ that.” You drag your tongue along that bottom vein again, kneading one of his balls and making sure that when he pulls you off of his cock, you treat the head to one final taste. 

“Open up, slut,” he coaxes. His cock twitches. He jerks himself once, twice, and then cums, rope after rope hitting your damp skin. His cum is hot, sticky, and you’re too preoccupied with trying to catch some of his release that your hand stalls over your cunt. You whimper when his cum lands on your tongue and follow it up by swallowing. Joel’s breath is unsteady as he looks down at you, cock softening in his lap. “Good girl,” he praises, reaching out to run his thumb along your stained skin. Drop by drop, he feeds you his cum, and you lap it up just as eagerly as you’d lapped him up. 

You pull your hand out of your bikini when he’s done, tacky arousal stretching between your fingers. Going back on your haunches, you suck in a deep breath through your abused throat. 

Joel pats his wide, thick thighs above you, the same ones you’ve been fantasizing about since that first day in the bar. “I promised you a ride, didn’t I?” A familiar, hooked smirk pulls at his mouth. Your face lights up in recognition and you practically scamper onto his thigh, stumbling as you tug your bikini out of the way to settle yourself on the linen coral shorts he has on. Joel laughs, a noise that has your cunt leaking onto the fabric, clit fluttering from the friction. Heat pulls tight in your stomach.

His hands land on your hips, guiding you back and forth when you hesitate at first. “Grind on daddy’s thigh, baby. Wanna see you cum on me.” Your head tips forward, forehead slotting against his shoulder when you start to push your hips into his. Need springs awake in your stomach when he drags you forward. A frayed moan tumbles out of you from his near-manhandling. You rut into Joel, bouncing, grinding yourself on him in the same way that you’d imagined yourself doing at least a dozen times before this.

“Daddy,” you whimper when the muscle goes taut underneath you, plucking something in your cunt. At the same time, a speedboat passes Joel’s yacht outside, leaving the ship rocking on the water in time with your movements as you ride his thigh. You yelp, a strained noise as the pressure intensifies on your clit. “Close!”

He grips your hips even tighter, bounces his thigh up against you. “That’s it, that’s it. Let it happen baby, give it to daddy.”

You come undone with the taste of his cum still rich on your tongue and his words ringing in your buzzing ears. Your orgasm whips through your body and leaves you shuddering against his center, halfheartedly continuing to roll your hips up against him. His thumbs rub circles into your skin while you come down. You suck in a shaky breath, Joel’s palm stroking the small of your back. “Did good for me, baby. Look real pretty when you come. Real pretty.”

You give him a shy smile, and he leans forward to kiss you, a brief moment of gentleness amidst his usually ubiquitous harshness. He pulls away with a tiny pat to your ass. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You stumble off of him on shaky legs, leaning against the captain’s console. Joel pulls his shorts down his thighs and tucks his cock away, the wet spot your cunt had made on him beyond visible as he stretches himself out. He fishes around in a drawer in the galley for his baby wipes and joins you back at the console. He takes them to your face, wiping down where his cum had hit your skin. He even dabs gently at your thighs. Orgasm bliss clings to the edges of your vision still, and you can’t help but lean into him as he takes care of you.

“Could take you for a real ride, now,” Joel says with a moderate shrug. “Nice cove on the west side of the lake, good for a quick swim. I’m sure your dad would throw a fit if he knew, but I’m sure you’re good at keepin’ secrets, too. Got a real good mouth on ya.”

You playfully punch his shoulder with a roll of your eyes, and in that moment, it feels like you’ve known Joel much longer than you have at all. Like this isn’t your first time on his boat, and this wasn’t his first time being in your mouth. “Alright,” you begrudgingly smile at him. “Whatever you say, old man.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes as he starts the engine.

[angel-wings-and-tattoos]

i am, in fact, in a steddie mood today. however, if you look at my account for more than 2 seconds then you're aware that i'm incapable of writing anything without stonathan in some way, shape, or form so today! we will be looking at platonicbff!stonathan. i love stonathan with my entire heart and its to the point where i like literally any dynamic you can put them in. like i think i'm into platonic!stonathan equally as much as platonic!stobin. which is saying something bc i am actively head over heels in love with robin.

what i want to look at today is protective jonathan when it comes to steve. in a perfect world (correction-in a somewhat plausible perfect world bc, let's be honest, in my perfect world we actively get footage of jonathan and steve fucking but that's neither here nor there) season 5 develops steve & jonathan's relationship, him and nancy break up amicably, and steve and jonathan become best friends.

but back to the steddie i promised earlier.

----

eddie doesn't know how it happened. one day he's accused of murder, alone, and stuck in a boathouse and less than a month later here he is. staring at steve fucking harrington sleeping less than five feet away from him.

the very same steve harrington that apparently is the sole reason he's even awake in the first place. when the trio had stumbled onto dustin and eddie, steve had gone into full action hero mode. using his lifeguard cpr training he had managed to get eddie breathing long enough to haul his ass back top side, breaking one of eddie's ribs in the process.

eddie doesn't remember any of it.

that isn't for lack of trying on his part. eddie is approximately two seconds away from breaking into the hospital's security footage because, if robin's story is true, he wants to keep the video for the rest of his life.

according to her, it was awesome, munson, you should have seen it! he had you in a bridal carry like a godamn rag doll. he burst in the front entrance and started yelling at them like i've never seen him yell before, ever! even that one time dustin fucked up the paint on his car. the nurses recognized you and for sure didn't want to help but apparently there's only so much you can do in the face of steve harrington throwing the mother of all shitfits. the second he started threatening to call his dad they all kicked into gear. it would have been funny if i didn't actively think you were dead at the time. sorry! but you really were super still and you weren't groping steve, like at all, so i assumed that we'd lost you forever.

(eddie pretends to be offended by that last bit, but he also concedes that if steve picked him up right now he can't promise he would keep his hands to himself)

after eddie was taken away on a stretcher, steve had nodded, mostly to himself, and promptly passed out. onto the cold, hard, tiled floor of the hospital entryway. they hauled him on a stretcher as well and he was put up in a room somewhere down the hallway.

that lasted for about four hours.

or, more accurately, that lasted until steve woke up again. after throwing what robin called less a shitfit, more a temper tantrum this time, he managed, even in a pain-induced haze, to convince the hospital staff to put him in eddie's room.

that fiasco was 3 days ago.

currently, steve wasn't unconscious anymore but his injuries were pretty badly infected. turns out nancy's shredded t-shirt wasn't exactly the most sterile thing on the planet. they had him on a steady stream of antibiotics and pain meds. eddie himself hadn't been awake for more than 15 minutes or so at a time (each of those times, robin had excitedly looked up from her vigil at steve's side and recounted new things she decided he had to know at that exact second).

until now.

as eddie blinks awake, he is aware of three things.

he's never been this thirsty in his entire life. it feels like he decided to dive mouth first into a container of sand.

if he didn't know any better, he would say that jim hopper is standing by a chair near steve's bed. but he does know better, jim hopper is dead. so. great. now he can add hallucinations to potential side effects of evil upside down bat bites.

directly next to the mirage of a police chief, sits jonathan byers.

that last thing wouldn't be as weird if said byers wasn't holding one of steve's hands and sitting far closer to the bed than the nonentity behind him.

(eddie isn't sure why the hand holding is more distracting at the moment than the fact that robin is actively laying in steve's bed with him, burrowing herself into his side like she's attempting to meld them into one person.)

he blearily watches as jonathan softly tucks a stray piece of steve's hair behind his ear on the side of his head that's not currently resting on the top of robin's.

eddie decides that he is on far too much pain medication to be thinking this hard.

groaning, he attempts to sit up enough to reach the water pitcher next to his bed.

"whoa, munson. take it easy," the ghost of legal trouble's past shuffles over to help eddie by pouring some water into a small paper cup. eddie watches him, wearily taking the cup from him. the water was cold to the point that it almost hurt, but it still beat the hell out of having a dry throat.

"ar'n't you 'posed t'be dead?" eddie slurs. his tongue feels like it weighs about ten pounds. the (poltergeist? revenant? wraith? eddie's mushy brain can't think of a better word for a dead person that can pour him water) figure before him scoffs.

"nice to see that you're still charming as ever. it's a long story, kid, i'm sure someone else will fill you in later. besides i'm guessing you have maybe 5 minutes of peace before one of those kids finds out you're awake and, inevitably, starts screaming about it loud enough to break glass," hopper sighs, hands coming to his hips in a remarkably similar echo of steve. eddie has absolutely zero thoughts about that, thank you. the chief moves towards the door, placing a hand on the handle.

"however, buckley hasn't left harrington's side for the last 4 days. if anyone scares her awake now, i don't think she'll ever go back to sleep. i'll hold them off for the night, but the second the sun comes up, you're on your own."

hopper looks from eddie to jonathan, who nods in acknowledgement without looking away from steve for more than a second or two. eddie watches as he closes the door behind him and disappears from view, leaving jonathan and eddie sitting in silence.

eddie coughs.

fidgets.

looks at byers.

coughs again.

okay, let it be said that eddie isn't great with awkward silence. but, in his defense, what the fuck is he supposed to say to jonathan byers? he didn't even know that him and steve were friends, much less holding-hands-in-a-hospital-bed-friends.

"so," eddie starts, regretting opening his mouth the second jonathan looks at him.

"so," jonathan repeats quietly, looking like he's holding back a smile as he does, "you're eddie munson."

eddie doesn't like the way jonathan is saying his name. it has an odd tilt to it, like he's mimicking what someone else has said to him. eddie admits that it's not the worst way his name has ever been said, but it makes him swallow uncomfortably.

"gu'lty 's charged, man." eddie's voice comes out considerably clearer than before, shifting from sounding completely shitfaced to minorly tipsy.

there is an extremely awkward moment where eddie has no idea where this conversation is going. jonathan is back to staring at steve, still practically cradling one of his hands between the two of his.

"he talks about you a lot, you know," eddie doesn't know, but he also doesn't interrupt, "it's always 'eddie said this', 'this is eddie's favorite song', 'eddie rented that movie'. he talks about you almost as much as he talks about robin."

jonathan takes a breath, drumming his fingers on the back of steve's hand. his gaze stays on steve as he talks, still quiet enough to not wake up either of the teenagers sleeping next to him.

"he's a good guy, you know. underneath the whole asshole jock façade. i don't know if you remember, but he almost killed himself trying to save you. i'm not sure how he was even able to stand when you guys came in, much less march in here like he did carrying you in his arms."

still idly toying with steve's hand, jonathan's gaze moves back to eddie. his fond expression dims into more serious territory as he visibly contemplates the second part of his impromptu speech.

"i'm not the greatest at talking about my own feelings, i'm more than aware of that, but i won't hesitate in saying that steve is important to me. no idea how, why, or when it happened, but he just is. somewhere along the line he decided that your opinion is important to him and i need you to understand the weight of that. steve has been independent his entire life, sometimes to the point where it's detrimental to his own health. i don't know if he realizes it completely, but he's basically imprinted on you like a baby duck."

eddie swallows nervously as jonathan maintains steady eye contact. the two men are quiet for a moment before jonathan seems to mentally switch tracks, "you seem like a good guy. steve obviously adores you and it sounds like the kids do as well. from what i've heard, you almost died to save dustin's life. i appreciate all of it, i really do. that being said, if you do anything to hurt steve then none of that matters anymore. i think i'm speaking on robin's behalf as well when i say that we really do like you as a person, but steve's wellbeing comes first."

as stated earlier, eddie is on far too much pain medication to be thinking this hard. if his head wasn't so foggy, eddie would think he's getting a shovel talk.

by jonathan byers.

about steve harrington.

who apparently "obviously adores him".

yeah, it's definitely the pain killers.

eddie clears his throat again as he heavily sinks back against his pillows. "i'm not entirely convinced that 'm not hallucinating this entire conversation, byers. but yeah, i understand. kinda owe him my life now, i guess, so it'd be pretty shitty of me to hurt the guy's feelings or whatever ya think i'mma do," his speech was improving the more he talked, but it was getting harder to keep his eyes open.

jonathan seems content with that statement for the time being, if his attention switching back to steve and off eddie is any indication.

eddie falls back asleep shortly thereafter, leaving jonathan as the only person awake in the small hospital room.

________

i think i'm going to add more from jonathan's pov but for now just be aware that jonathan and steve both know that steve is practically in love with eddie. jonathan is very protective of the people he loves and steve is in that circle. as far as this little snippet goes, i don't think stonathan was ever a romantic thing, and there was never any hard pining involved but they do care about each other deeply. i like to think they kept in contact when the byers moved to california. it started with jonathan and nancy getting into a fight and the only other adult person he could call to check on things was steve. he wasn't sure if steve would even respond, but he ended up not only answering all of jon's questions but seemed to genuinely want to know how the rest of the byers' clan was doing.

this turned into weekly phone calls, which turned to twice a week, which eventually turned to calls at all times of day all week. they're basically besties who gossip and talk shit on the phone all the time. when the byers get back to hawkins it shocks everyone but robin when jonathan parks his ass next to steve's bed and refuses to move.

i just love stonathan ok!!!! i will die on this hill. steve deserves people who love him and care about him!!

Edit: now on ao3!! <3

[lihhelsing]

Eddie knew this was the last time. 

Steve hadn’t said anything. At least not explicitly. But he had been slowly pulling away for the last month. Ever since the fucking incident. 

Eddie was still mortified about it but Steve had done his best to just brush it off as if it was nothing. And at the same time he had started pulling away and Eddie wasn’t dumb. He knew how those things worked. This wasn’t his first rodeo with frat boys and if he was being honest it probably wouldn’t be his last. 

But this one might be just the one to break his heart. 

He didn’t mean to fall in love with Steve Harrington, but with him making all those pretty noises under him like he was doing right now Eddie wondered how could he have /not/ fallen in love with him. 

He could feel the goodbye in every one of Steve’s touches. He was holding on to Eddie as if he couldn’t afford to let go, eyes rolling to the back of his head as Eddie moved inside of him. 

“You’re doing so good, baby,” Eddie whispered, hands gripping his flattened hair. Steve’s cap was always the first thing to go, whenever they found themselves with enough alone time, and Eddie liked he was probably one of the only people to see him like that. No armor. No president of the Delta Chi. Just Steve. 

His Steve. 

“Harder,” Steve asked. Begged, really, in that soft, punched out tone that always drove Eddie completely crazy. And Eddie knew what he was doing. 

They fucked hard, sometimes. When they were in a rush or when they were drunk or when Steve had stayed away for too long. It made them desperate for each other.

But now Steve was begging for something else. He was begging for Eddie to go harder so he could pretend this wasn’t tearing them apart. So he could pretend there weren’t feelings involved. 

And how could he pretend that when Eddie was kissing him softly on the lips and whispering sweet nothings in his ear and fucking him like he loved him? Like he would let Steve break his heart. 

“Shh, let me make you feel good, Stevie,” Eddie asked, biting back the rest of his words. Let me make you feel good one last time. 

Steve groaned and buried his face in the crook of Eddie’s neck. Eddie wanted to look at his face as he undid him one last time but Steve wasn’t good with feelings so Eddie let him hide away. 

The party was still going outside of Steve’s room, but for a little while longer, it would be just the two of them. They were all that mattered while they were inside this room. Even if Eddie knew they were moving fast towards the end. 

Even if Eddie knew things would get awkward because Steve couldn’t fucking handle feelings. They would kiss and Steve would rush to get his clothes and his cap back on, hoping for whatever protection that frat boy persona could bring him. 

But he and Eddie both knew there was no hiding from each other anymore. They had gone too far, too deep. Eddie already knew the twists and turns of Steve’s heart and soul. Knew what made him scared, what made him hurt. 

He would pretend, though. For Steve’s sake. He would watch him walk away one last time, cute butt fitting perfectly in his preppy clothes. He would pretend his heart wasn’t following. He would pretend it didn’t hurt. 

And he wouldn’t come back to Delta Chi ever again. 

Part II

[alieinthemorning]

Marital Duties [Xavier]

Content: Fluff, Suggestive Themes, Friends to Lovers, Fast Burn, POV Second Person

Pronouns: None

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

You liked cooking. You wouldn’t say your food was anything to write home about, but it was good, and that’s all that mattered. It was also nice to see the smiles on your friends faces when they ate your food. It feels good to feed others.

However,

“This is really good.”

There was a certain friend of yours that was beginning to over stay his welcome.

“Next time, I think we should try this new recipe—” You placed your hands firmly on his shoulders as you pushed him toward the door.

“Yes, yes. We can talk more about it later.” You said quickly as you shoved him out into the empty hallway.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He stumbled out the door from your harsh push, but he was quick to spin on his heel, “Oh, and—”

“I’ll see you at headquarters, Xavier.” You told him with a smile as you slammed the door in his face.

You quickly locked the door, waiting for the sound of retreating footsteps to finally becoming silent. You retreated to your bedroom, pointedly ignoring the mess in the kitchen (that was a problem for the you of tomorrow to deal with). You plopped down on your bed, the exhaustion of the day’s excitement finally catching up with you.

Or rather, the week’s excitement.

Ever since you helped him make those egg tarts, Xavier has been visiting just about every day for a meal or two or three, not that it bothers you that much anymore. In the beginning it took quite the toll on your wallet, but after a conversation with him, Xavier made sure the two of you made a trip to the grocery store every week with him footing the bill. But that man could eat. You could most likely make him a seven-course meal, and he’d ask for more.

You adore cooking for your friends, but this was beginning to become something more than cooking for a friend.

So the next day, when Xavier came over, you decided to make your problem known.

You shoved your left hand into his face. “Look at my hand. Tell me what’s wrong with it.”

He looked at it, turned it over and over. He even looked under your fingernails, but pouted when he found nothing. “…I don’t see anything.”

You pulled your hand back, tapping the finger by your pinky. “There’s no ring, Xavier.”

He tilted his head. “So?”

“So, because there’s no ring on my finger, I won’t keep cooking for you.” You crossed your arms with a huff. “You’re getting marital benefits, for friend prices.”

“I…” He paused, grabbing your hand and looking over it again. “Okay.”

You weren’t expecting that. “Huh?”

He just nodded, “Mmh. Come on, I’m starving.”

All you could do is follow him, as it seemed you were always doing. “…you’re always starving.”

It had been a few weeks since the ring situation, and it seemed like things had calmed down a bit.

How wrong you were.

Sitting in between the two of you, on the dining room table, was a white velvet box.

And within that box, was a ring.

…

He had taken you seriously.

You plucked the ring out of the box,

and slipped it on your finger.

Xavier was staring intently at his empty plate. “Hmmm…”

You tilted your head, “What’s up? Was the food not good?”

“No, of course not. Your food is always delicious. It’s just…” You wanted for him to continue, “…I feel like I’m not doing much as your husband.”

You chuckled. “We’re not actually married—” The look on his face, a firm pout, made you pause. “…yet.”

The pout was replaced with a small smile. “Yes, I know, but I don’t think it matters too much that if we call each other that.”

“Okay, so what’s the problem then?”

He sighed, looking off to the side. “I just feel like I’m not doing enough.”

You furrowed your brows. Xavier was doing more than enough. Yes, the two of you did skip right from friendship to marriage, but Xavier wasn’t doing anything. He continued buying your groceries, but he also put extra little treats in the cart for the two of you to share. You went on dates when you both shared a day off. You picked up little knick-knacks that reminded you of the other, leaving a bit of yourself in the other’s apartment. You didn’t know where this was coming from.

You reached across the table, placing your hand over his. “Xavier, you’ve given me everything.”

His cheeks flushed red. “…not everything…”

Oh.

Oh.

You bit your lip, as you felt yourself flush at the implication. “Um, well, I—”

Finally, he looked at you.

And you really wished he hadn’t.

“I think I should change that…tonight.”

Your eyes widen. “T-tonight!?”

He smiled, standing up.

“Right now.”

Catch the continuation on the other account. wink wonk ;)

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

[devirnis]

7 for there was only one bed prompts (10 as a back up if someone has already requested 7...or you could do both if they spark joy :3)

hi molly <33333 YOU spark joy so you get both prompts as a special treat :3

It’s late by the time Eddie finally pulls up in front of his house. In the passenger seat beside him, Buck is still staring blankly out the window, showing no indication that he’s aware they’ve arrived at their destination.

He’s been like this since they left the hospital. Quiet, still. Despondent. 

“Left” is probably a generous way of putting it. After hours of keeping vigil in the hospital waiting room, Athena had practically forced them all into the parking lot after they got the news that Bobby’s surgery had gone well. The doctors were only cautiously optimistic, but their confidence was enough to have Athena sending them all home for a good night’s sleep and a change of clothes. She ordered them to look more presentable for when Bobby woke up the following day.

Eddie wishes he could summon some of Athena’s unshakeable faith – not just for Buck, but for himself as well.

When they’d arrived back at the station, Eddie had taken one look at Buck’s nearly catatonic state and made the executive decision that Buck was coming home with him. Buck hadn’t put up any fight when Eddie had taken his duffle bag and steered him to the truck; he’d barely acknowledged Eddie’s declaration that he’d be spending the night.

Now, Eddie reaches across the middle console to undo Buck’s seatbelt. The click of it releasing is deafening in the stifling silence of the truck. Buck flinches a bit at the noise, finally turning away from the window to look at Eddie.

“We’re here,” Eddie says.

Buck nods, still not speaking, and opens the passenger side door to get out. Eddie sighs and follows him.

The house is dark and still when they step inside. Eddie drops both their bags at the front door, happy to let that be a problem for tomorrow – today, whatever – before herding Buck to the kitchen. Neither of them have had anything to drink other than shitty hospital coffee since Bobby’s accident, so Eddie quickly fills two glasses with water. When he hands Buck a glass, Buck stares at it like he’s never seen water before in his life.

“Drink,” Eddie encourages. “We’re both probably dehydrated.” 

Buck brings the glass to his lips, his movements jerky and robotic. Any other day, Eddie would tease him for it, but he knows that’s the last thing Buck needs right now.

After taking a few sips, Buck suddenly looks around, like he’s just realized where he is. “Chris?” he asks. His voice is hoarse from screaming for Bobby earlier.

“At Jeremy’s,” Eddie says. “I called his moms earlier and asked if he could spend the night.”

He’d slipped away after the first hour of Bobby’s surgery to make the arrangements. He’d already planned on dragging Buck home with him, but he hadn’t wanted Buck to feel like he needed to keep it together for Chris if Bobby…

Buck nods, and then finishes his water. Eddie quickly downs his own glass and plucks Buck’s out of his loose grip, depositing them both in the sink.

“Come on,” Eddie says gently. “Let’s go to bed, grab a couple hours of sleep, and then we can be at the hospital bright and early. Athena can’t turn us away if we bring breakfast.”

He offers Buck a smile, which Buck half-heartedly returns. But he seems a little less lost now that Eddie’s promised to take him back to the hospital – back to Bobby – in the morning. Eddie wonders how he can casually offer for Buck to sleep in his bed tonight. He doesn’t particularly relish the idea of Buck spending the night alone on the couch, and, maybe a little selfishly, Eddie wants the company too. He’s been trying to hold it together for Buck’s sake – he’s good at that, being strong for others when he needs to be – but that doesn’t mean that seeing Bobby unconscious and bleeding on the stretcher hadn’t shaken him to his core.

Eddie steps around Buck and heads for the hallway. “Do you –?”

 “Can I join you?” Buck interrupts. “I just… I just don’t want to be alone tonight.”

You never have to ask, Eddie wants to say, and then he takes in the image of Buck before him: he’s small, hunched in on himself, lower lip caught between his teeth, already half-turned away like he’s expecting Eddie to reject him, even though Buck only beat Eddie’s offer to share the bed by a couple of seconds.

Eddie quickly closes the distance between them and folds Buck into his arms. “If you think I’m letting you sleep on the couch after today, you’re insane.”

Buck laughs into his neck, a little wetly. “Sorry. I’m just really tired.”

“Let’s go to bed, then.”

They take turns in the bathroom. When Eddie comes back into his room and sees Buck dressed in a pair of his old gym shorts and a threadbare t-shirt, something settles inside Eddie’s chest. It’s not how he wanted this to happen, but he can’t deny that having Buck here, in his bedroom, in his clothes, feels right in a way that he’s tired of ignoring. 

Eddie crawls under the covers first. He expects Buck to follow suit, but when he’s settled on his back, he sees Buck still hovering awkwardly beside the bed, like he’s not sure he’s actually allowed. 

“Buck, come on,” Eddie beckons him softly, lifting the sheets up.

Buck slowly climbs into the bed, settling on his side so he’s facing Eddie. Rolling over to mirror his position, Eddie can see that Buck’s eyes are wet, even in the darkness of the bedroom.

“C’mere,” Eddie says, opening his arms.

Buck chokes on a whimper, but doesn’t hesitate before burrowing into Eddie’s chest. Eddie holds him tightly as he shakes, tilting his head down to press his lips to Buck’s hair.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “I’m right here, I’ve got you.”

Buck lets out a trembling breath. Then he tips his chin up and covers Eddie’s mouth with his own.

Eddie freezes for half a second before he instinctively starts kissing back. Buck’s mouth is soft and warm, the feeling better than anything Eddie’s imagined. And oh how he’s imagined – for weeks, trying to figure out how to gauge if kissing might be something that Buck wants too.

Then Eddie’s brain catches up to what’s happening. 

Buck is seeking comfort and reassurance, and Eddie would do anything to grant him that, but he doesn’t want this to be only because Buck is worried about Bobby.

He disconnects their lips, as much as it pains him to do so. “Buck –”

Buck’s face falls. “Sorry,” Buck chokes out. “No, obviously, you don’t want – I don’t know what I was even thinking –”

He starts rolling away and fumbling with the sheets, like he’s going to get out of bed and exile himself to the couch. Eddie’s heart clenches for having inadvertently hurt Buck, even if he knows this is the right call. His hand shoots out to get a grip on Buck’s shoulder and reel him back in.

“Of course I want this,” Eddie says earnestly. Buck looks guarded, but he’s stopped actively trying to escape, at least. “I want you. But not – It’s late and we’re tired and I want to do it properly. Start us properly.”

“Us?” Buck repeats quietly.

“Yes, us.” Eddie manhandles Buck on to his side so Eddie can curl up behind him. “We’ll talk about it in the morning, okay?”

“Okay,” Buck agrees, his voice a relieved exhale. 

He snuggles back against Eddie, and Eddie can’t help but press a kiss to the back of Buck’s neck. Buck sighs contentedly as he covers Eddie’s hand on his chest with his own, threading their fingers together.

“It’s going to be okay,” Eddie whispers against his skin. He can’t make any promises, but he knows: they’re together now, whatever happens. They’ll hold each other through it.

“Okay,” Buck says again, and then brings their joined hands up and kisses Eddie’s knuckles. “Thank you.”

I love you, Eddie thinks. He’ll say those words soon, but not tonight. Instead, he rests his forehead against the nape of Buck’s neck. “Any time.” What he really means is every time, all the time, for the rest of our lives. From the way Buck melts back against him, Eddie thinks he might be able to hear those words anyway.

(also on ao3)

[happyhauntt]

young gods | marauders.

writing masterlist | askbox

summary: the gryffindors have a little tradition on the first night back at hogwarts.

word count: 1.2k.

warnings: pre-established relationships, tooth-aching fluff, a brief mention of war.

notes: a wee excerpt from an old marauders fic i wrote years ago. i reread it recently and this section made me cry so i tidied it up and i'm posting it here as a little ficlet. enjoy!!

     Now, as Dorcas and Marlene slip into the common room, they find their friends in the corner, keeping warm by the fire. Lily and Alice are curled up together on an armchair built for one person, their legs tangled in long, fluffy dressing gowns.

Mary sits on the sofa next to them, legs stretched across Remus and Peter, the latter of which looking as though he has no idea what to do. James and Sirius are sitting cross-legged on a tartan blanket that covers the floor, and the latter looks up and grins as they enter.

     "McKinnon's brought snacks!" he cheers with as much enthusiasm as he can muster, clapping his hands as they approach. Dorcas pushes Mary's leg out of the way and squeezes into the gap between Remus and Peter, before letting Mary return her legs to their former position.

     "Dinner was less than an hour ago, Sirius," Marlene says with a roll of her eyes. She drops the food in the middle of the blanket, so all of them can reach it. Alice is quick to snatch up a handful of droobles. Marlene's tone takes on a falsely disapproving note, and she narrows her eyes mockingly. "You can't be hungry already."

     "McKinnon," he replies, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "there is a profound difference between food hungry and snacks hungry. You ought to learn it, for your life will be much better once you have."

     Marlene quirks an eyebrow. Her hand is halfway to reaching for a chocolate frog. "Is this the same sort of wisdom as when you told me that getting a leather jacket would change my life?"

     Sirius only smirks. He shares a cursory glance with James, who thinks Marlene's jacket has almost become an extension of her sunshine-scary personality. "I was right though, wasn't I?"

     Marlene thinks of that bright yellow jacket, sitting in her suitcase, waiting to be unpacked. She thinks of wearing it when she got onto the train earlier in the day, and how she'd been almost sad to take it off when she had to change into her uniform, and how careful she'd been in stowing it away in her suitcase.

     She allows Sirius a begrudging roll of her eyes. Both of them possess egos far larger than they ought to be, and she will not let him gloat. She'll probably smack him, otherwise.

     The evening moves on. Dorcas suggests that they pass around a box of Bertie Bott's, and Marlene knows it's a mistake when she reaches into the box with her eyes closed and picks out a speckled yellow-and-white bean between her fingers. The taste of rotten egg lingers for a while, no matter how many cauldron cakes she consumes.

     And she consumes many, many cauldron cakes.

     It doesn't take long for the tales of summertime exploits to begin being told with great detail and exaggeration. At some point, the conversation is steered by Lily ( rather expertly, her friend would say, although Marlene would argue that it was by no means subtle ) into the direction of muggle music. It doesn't take long for them to burst into a poor-but-hilarious rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody. Dorcas joins in at the first verse, dramatically crying Mama, just killed a man! Remus, much to their surprise, does a fantastic Galileo, Galileo, which makes James and Sirius howl with laughter even though they don't know what the hell is going on.

     It's over too quickly. It grows dark outside, and the fire is dimming, and they're all a little bit sleepy now. There are crumbs all over the tartan blanket, and Marlene's head is resting in Sirius' lap, his fingers running through her tangled blonde curls.

     Lily has fallen asleep on top of Alice, ginger hair splayed out across the older girl's face, while Alice tries not to choke on hair. James is watching them, a dopey grin across his face. It's the kind that only appears when Lily isn't looking because he knows it annoys her now (even though it doesn't, really, but Lily won't tell him that because she's only just stopped wanting to smack him.)

     Peter's snoring away on the sofa. Remus is asleep, too, his head resting on Dorcas' shoulder, and Marlene thinks it's the most peaceful he's looked in a while. She doesn't know why she thinks that, but she does wonder about the scars that cover his body and how he gets so ill sometimes. He's her friend too, and she worries. She worries about all her friends.

     Dorcas is awake, and she's got a soft smile on her face. Mary's still lying across the top of the three of them, except she's asleep now, too, and about to roll right off the edge. Dorcas looks like she'll let her.

     Marlene takes a deep breath. She's not too good at talking about her feelings, but something about this moment feels right. She looks at the lot of them, half-asleep. When she thinks of the word home, this is what comes to mind  ━  her friends, her best friends in the whole world, peaceful and happy together.

     Part of her knows it won't last, but she tries to push that thought away. The war won't catch them, not as long as they are students at Hogwarts, and it's over a year before they have to deal with the danger in the world, isn't it?

     The war can wait. The world can wait. Right now, here, this is everything she needs. Her brothers can leave her behind if they want; if they love her, they'll come back, in the end. In this moment, she can't fix it. She can't save anyone.

     But this is home.

     "I promise I'm not drunk or sleep-talking," she murmurs, letting her eyes fall closed for a moment. She feels Sirius' hand fall still, hovering with expectation. "But I love you guys. All of you. You know that?"

     Lily makes a snuffling noise, as if she's heard Marlene's words, but she stays asleep. James chuckles quietly to himself. Dorcas looks like she might leap across the room and attack Marlene with a hug.

     Sirius looks down at her. His eyes are like steel in the dying firelight.

     "You need to chill or I'll tickle you, because nobody needed to hear that." He says it jokingly, because he did need to hear that. It is a symptom of growing up in a loveless home, he thinks, and he knows Marlene feels it too. One must be told, regularly, that they are loved and wanted.

     James tells him, every day. James, who is more of a brother to him than Regulus is, really.

     Carefully, she rises from Sirius' lap, rolling onto her knees. And then she says, "You'll have to catch me before you can tickle me, Black."

     She grins, suddenly filled with mischief and glee, moving quicker than lightning across the room, and the night ends with him chasing her around the common room.

     In that moment, with hair flying and her friends laughing and the thunder clapping outside, she thinks they are all infinite. They are all invincible. They are young gods with the world at their feet, the ones who will never die, and time stops moving.

      And then Sirius catches her.

      And the moment's over.

[film-in-my-soul]

Cannon divergence- Buck/Eddie??

I hope you liked this one!

.⋆｡°✩ Eddie becomes a paramedic instead of a firefighter but his and Buck's paths still cross. ✩°｡⋆.

The worst part, Buck thinks, laying on the sidewalk struggling to breathe, is that he's not even on the clock. At least when the universe decides to hand him his ass on a silver platter, he's getting paid for it (if he ignores Abby, and Taylor, and Ali...). Still, it could be worse; Bobby can't get mad at him for getting sideswiped by a car pulling a kid out of the road.

Side on fire and wind still knocked out of him, Buck makes the choice to stay on his back. It's a decision based upon years of training and the fact he thinks he'll lose his breakfast if he tires getting upright. The people in his periphery are making a scene, calling for help, but none of them are actively checking on him, and he's too focused on breathing to hear what they're saying or care. 

Just when Buck thinks of closing his eyes and passing out until an ambulance arrives, a small hand lands clumsily on his non-screaming shoulder, and his attention is forced to shift, eyes sliding unbidden to the side.

A tear-stained face, messy honey-brown curls, skewed glasses. It's the kid Buck had seen tipping sideways into the busy street, his crutches catching in a half-hidden crack in the pavement, sending him topping over. Buck does his best to smile around his grimace.

"Hey buddy," he hopes there's no blood on his teeth. He hopes he's not bleeding at all.

"I'm sorry," the kid says, light eyes wet and redrimmed, his bottom lip trembling hard. He's patting Buck like a cat that needs to be soothed. It twists up Buck's heart, and he wishes he could sit up to comfort him, show that, really, this isn't the worst he's been put through the wringer, but he can't. Buck does try to shrug, though, and bolstered by the need to not be the reason the boy cries even harder, he manages a better grin.

"Hey, don't be. It's not your fault-"

"Chris!" Much louder than the crowd still hanging around the edges, a voice breaks over the murmurs, and Buck feels the kid's (Chris's, he's sure) hand squeeze him hard.

"Daddy!" Chris calls back, and Buck watches from his position on the ground as, at first, a shadow falls over both him and the boy, and then a man comes into view, kneeling over Buck, but whose every bit of focus is on Chris.

"Christ, Mijo, what the hel- what happened?"

"Dad, you gotta help him. He got hurt pulling me away from the car. You gotta-"

They're talking over each other, and Buck feels as in the middle as he is, but the awkwardness is quickly swiped away when Chris's father tips his head down, blocking out the midday sun, and Buck is hit full force by how beautiful the man is. Soft brown eyes edged with the tease of crow's feet and smile lines, thick dark brows to match his swept-back hair, and the promise of stubble at the edge of his jaw. Buck is struck with an immediate attraction so powerful it rivals the impact from the Tesla that he's pretty sure sped away from the scene.

"-ir, sir, can you hear me?"

Buck blinks back into the moment, nods, and immediately regrets it.

"Oh shit, don't do that, okay, you need to keep yourself still until the paramedics arrive."

"No, I-" Buck swallows, trying to clear his suddenly tight through, "I know. Firefighter." He'd point to himself, but Chris is still clinging to his undamaged arm, and the idea of shifting just to make it clear he's not delirious is both daunting and directly in opposition to his claim of knowing better.

The man smiles, and it's devastating how it brightens every corner of his face.

"Good to know. Someone's called 9-1-1, so I'm going to make sure you're alright until the ambulance gets here. I'm a paramedic." He tacks on the last bit like an afterthought, like he should make it clear that the gently probing hand suddenly on Buck's flank isn't for nefarious purposes.

"You sure you're not an angel?" It slips out, easy like breathing still isn't, and Buck can't find it in himself to be cowed at having said it.

The man, whose gaze had slid down to watch as his fingers worked, snaps his eyes back to Buck's face, expression wide with surprise, and Buck hears a soft giggle from Chris.

"Uh, no," he says, a satisfying splash of color coming onto his cheeks, "Just Eddie the paramedic."

Eddie. It fits. Buck likes it. He also likes how Eddie's clearly trying to tuck his bashful smile away and get back to the task of ensuring that Buck isn't bleeding internally.

"Coulda fooled me," Buck can't help himself, rewarded again by Chris's laughter, finally done with crying, it seems, and Eddie's soft chuckle and headshake. He flusters easily, and Buck can't help imagining pushing his luck just to see how much he can get the rosy color to spread over his tan complexion.

He doesn't get the chance, and before Eddie can reply, the sound of the ambulance is there, and then two paramedics descend upon them, one going to squat beside Eddie.

"Diaz, thought you were off duty today."

Eddie rolls his eyes, and Buck wants to comment that, really, are civil servants ever off duty? But then the other paramedic waves a penlight in his eyes and starts asking him questions, carefully dislodging Chris from his place by Buck's shoulder so she can get a collar around Buck's neck.

When they leave and return with the stretcher, Eddie helps load Buck on, and Chris fists his hand in Buck's shirt when they try to wheel him toward the flashing vehicle.

"Chris, we have to let them take Buck to the hospital," Eddie says, coming around to his son's side. Buck smiles, something twinging in his chest that has nothing to do with being jostled forward. He opens his mouth to assure Chris he'll be okay, that as long as Chris is fine, it's all good, but Chris beats him to it as he turns his face up to his father and asks, "But can't we go with him?"

The request floors Buck, and it seems to leave Eddie equally stumped. Chris uses the opportunity to continue.

"It's my fault he's hurt. I want to make sure he gets to the hospital okay."

Something flashes in Eddie's eyes, something that implies a story underlining Chris's words. If he could, Buck would wheel himself into the ambulance and away from what probably needs to be a private conversation. He can't, though, so he sits silent, trying to communicate to Eddie with his eyes that, really, they've already done enough, Chris with his getting Buck's help and Eddie putting up Buck's brazen flirting.

The female paramedic at the head of the stretcher, amused and unhelpfully, adds, "We've got the room."

Between that and Chris's blatantly pleading pout, Buck watches Eddie sigh and momentarily hang his head before he looks back to Buck, smiling small and crooked.

"Only if you don't mind the company. It would... it would mean a lot to him."

Buck wonders if he plays his cards right; he might be able to get that 'him' to become 'us.' He smiles.

"The more the merrier."

Ficlet Bingo! (Still Squares Left!)