#bobby drabble

[sams-princess-hair]

I LOVE the idea of young Sam and Dean wandering around Singer Auto like junkyard dogs. Running around shirtless and barefoot with worn through jeans, napping in old rusted over cars and splaying out over each other because it's hot, but they can't be separate, obviously. Drinking grape soda and pushing each other around until they were both covered in bruises and scrapes, still smiling like idiots with popsicle stained tongues. Dean would ruffle Sam's dirty hair and try and convince him to cut it short, Sam would just shove him a little, and they'd forget it, a battle Dean was happy to lose. Sam found a snake there, and Dean, ever the hero, wanted to take care of it. He ended up getting bit and ran to tell Bobby. Bobby told him that he'll be fine and to stop whining, gave him a bandaid, and told him not to mess with it again. They were happy kids at Bobby's.

It's not my usual angst, but I needed the boys to have some joy for once.

[hyruling]

For domestic prompts, 10, 24 & 38 pls!

10. a cupboard of mismatched mugs - 24. cold tiles - 38. a blanket draped over a sleeping form

—

Buck’s absence is the first thing he notices when he wakes.

He reaches over, feels the cold sheets and knows Buck’s been gone for awhile. His side of the bed is unmade, pillow still dented from where he’d spent at least some of the night. Eddie presses his hand against the soft down and sighs.

He shouldn’t be surprised — for nearly two weeks now he’s woken up alone after falling asleep to the comforting sounds of Buck’s breathing next to him. It’s no less disappointing than it was the first time.

Still, he’s not going to push it. Not while Buck still walks around with a haunted look in his eyes when he thinks no one’s looking, and stares off into space more often than not when he’s not busying himself with some chore or errand he’s invented in the name of being useful. Eddie’s lost track of the number of times he’s run a casserole over to the Grant-Nash household.

Eddie swings his legs over the side of the bed and stretches. It’s a warm day in April but the house is frigid, thermostat set to Eddie’s liking even though he insists on turning it up for Buck every night before they go to sleep. He wakes up with it set back to 68 every morning, accepted it as part of their new nightly routine.

The tiles are cold on his feet when he steps quietly in the kitchen. The coffee pot is already prepped with fresh grounds, meaning Buck has already been in here. All Eddie has to do is start the water. He pulls out a mug from the cabinet while it brews, still bursting with all the ones he’d had to leave in Buck’s care — the U-Haul was only so big after all. It’s a homemade creation of Christopher’s, Buck’s name across the front in messy eight-year old handwriting with hand-drawn flames dancing around the white ceramic. Eddie has a matching one in back in Texas, packed and ready to make its way back home next week.

Buck is still asleep when he pads into the living room, the only sign of life the steady rise and fall of his shoulder. Eddie snags the comforter off Chris’ bed on his way and drapes it over Buck, hunched in on himself in the chill of the room.

Eddie perches on the coffee table and picks up Buck’s phone, intending to plug it back into the charger for him. Bobby’s name is there, a new text he pointedly doesn’t read etched across Buck’s background photo of the 118, taken just before Eddie left for El Paso. He stares at the small Bobby Nash 👨‍🚒 until it becomes blurry and locks Buck’s phone with a sniff, scrubbing a hand over his wet eyes for good measure.

The click of the phone wakes Buck. Eddie watches his eyelids flutter, listens to the pattern of his breathing change. It takes a moment for Buck to process his own consciousness — he blinks blearily at Eddie and rubs his eyes.

“Hey,” Buck says, voice thick with sleep.

“Morning,” Eddie responds.

Buck shuffles into a sitting position, stretching as he goes, still swathed under both blankets. He looks ridiculous — a six-foot two tall toddler wrapped in a cocoon of fabric, so thick he can only see Buck’s head. Eddie can’t help but laugh softly at him.

“What?” Buck asks.

Eddie shakes his head and offers his mug to him. Buck’s fingers are chilly when he takes it. “Nothing. You look comfy, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Buck says, taking a sip. He grimaces at the sweetness of Eddie’s hazelnut creamer but says nothing, patting the cushion next to him. “You wanna get in on this?”

Eddie smiles. “I really do, actually.”

Buck nods sagely and scoots, lifting both blankets for Eddie to wrangle his way into. They end up pressed together, blankets tight around their shoulders and under their crossed legs. Eddie sighs at the warmth and accepts the mug back from Buck. He fits his mouth over the same uneven ridge Buck did, feels a little thrill shoot straight through his stomach when Buck notices.

“You know, you don’t have to turn the A/C down every night,” Eddie says for at least the tenth time, rather than linger on Buck’s eyes on his mouth.

Buck shrugs, eyes back on Eddie’s, the blue thrown into sharp relief against the pink flush of his cheeks. “Habit. I did it before too, when I would stay over if you forgot. I know how you and Chris like to sleep in the Artic.”

Warmth that has nothing to do with the heavy comforter or hot coffee sluices through him. Warmth that has always been there, just beneath the surface. Warmth that’s taken on a new meaning in recent months, that’s been beaten down and ignored because there were other things more pressing than letting himself burrow into it the way he wanted. He can’t exactly remember why right now, watching Buck snag the mug back with a soft brush of fingers. Pink mouth pressed against that same ridge, that same imperfect divot of ceramic from Chris and Buck’s unpracticed hands.

Buck holds his gaze while he drinks, gives him a tentative smile before it skitters away. Eddie hands him his phone, and then Buck’s attention is focused on the unread text waiting for him. Buck smiles again, a private thing for himself and for Bobby.

“Bobby okay?” Eddie asks. He takes the mug back so Buck can type out a response.

Buck glances up briefly. “Yeah. Just responding to my late night neuroses again.”

Eddie lets that sit for a minute, taking a long drawn out drink while Buck types. “You know what I’m going to say.”

“I know,” Buck answers without looking up. “But it’s fine, Eddie. Really.”

“How many nights have you woken me up from my nightmares?” Eddie asks. Buck avoids his eye. “How is this different?”

Buck just shakes his head, and Eddie sighs. They’ve had this conversation nearly every morning since that phone call came in, since the impossible happened and Eddie watched the light slowly return to Buck’s eyes. But Buck keeps swearing he’s fine — he’s over the moon, he’s perfect, and why wouldn’t I be, Eddie? — and yet Eddie continues to wake up alone, continues to find Buck hiding himself away out here.

Buck puts the phone down and accepts the coffee when Eddie offers. Another sip, another phantom brush of lips that singes in his blood.

“Okay. I’m not going to push you, Buck. But I just want you to know I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Buck traces over the lettering of the mug, says, “I know.”

It’s almost convincing.

“Bobby is okay. He’s home, Athena is watching over him like a hawk. He’s—”

“It’s not Bobby,” Buck interrupts.

Eddie pauses — this is the most he’s gotten out of Buck in days. He waits, watching Buck’s thumb trail over the rim of the mug where both of their mouths have touched, and scrapes a hand over his own lips unconsciously.

“It’s not about Bobby,” Buck continues at last, quiet in the early morning stillness. “Not completely, anyway, and I—I can’t talk about it. With you.”

Buck’s blushing up to his ears now, and Eddie feels like he’s falling, knocked clean on his ass while his body remains perfectly still.

“Oh,” Eddie says, punched out of his lungs before he can stop it.

Buck picks at a loose thread on the plaid comforter and refuses to look at him.

Eddie stutters to fill the silence, awkward for the first time in their friendship. “Um. That’s—I mean, that’s okay, I guess, but you know—you can talk to me about anything, though. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know but not—not this.”

Buck hands the mug back to Eddie, just enough left for one last sip. It tastes like ash in his mouth, lukewarm and too bitter, all traces of hazelnut sweetness gone.

“Do you want br—”

“Why?” Eddie blurts. He twists around until he catches Buck’s eyes. Buck looks like a skittish deer when they meet.

He’s angry, he realizes — it hits him like a freight train. Not at Buck, not really, but at himself, maybe. For failing to do something, or be someone, that has Buck’s unequivocal trust. Everything they’ve been through, seven years of friendship — a word that had never been big enough, important enough, to describe what they have — and now, out of nowhere, there’s something that has Buck doubting. The past few weeks alone have deepened their bond in a way Eddie wasn’t sure was still possible as they held each other through their grief. They cried together, held each other up literally and metaphorically; they cared for each other in ways Eddie’s never had with a partner, let alone a friend before. Buck had even yelled at him for the first time in seven years, actually yelled, when everything inside of him had boiled over at last. And Eddie just took it, and held him when the fight went out of him and Buck collapsed against Eddie’s chest, muttering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” through broken gasps.

And when Bobby came back, he was still there; he was there through their shared euphoria and guilt and all the leftover grief they didn’t know what to do with. And now Buck can’t even look at him.

“It’s not—it’s just something I’m working through, Eddie. I don’t want to—you’re about to bring Chris home, it can wait.”

“No,” Eddie says, and the tense line of Buck’s shoulders deflates. “Come on, Buck. It’s me.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the problem,” Buck admits, a little testy.

“I’m confused. Did I do something to piss you off?” Eddie asks. “Is it—have I been in your space too much or something? I can find a hotel—”

“No,” Buck interrupts. His knee knocks into Eddie’s as he turns to face him more fully. “That’s not it.”

“Then what, Buck? Don’t make me—I can’t leave you for a week and let—whatever this is fester.”

“It’s really okay, you don’t need to worry.”

“Well I’m going to,” Eddie pushes. “So you may as well tell me.”

Buck looks at him helplessly, eyes darting around the room wildly and landing on the blankets they’re wrapped in. And Buck’s never been all that difficult to read — not for him, anyway — so he puts the pieces together pretty quickly.

“Are you uncomfortable sleeping in the same bed?” Eddie hedges. Buck goes rigid, and he knows he’s hit the nail on the head. Stomach sinking, he asks, “Is that why you move to the couch every night?”

They’d slept in the bed together every night when he first came back, waking tangled up in each other more often than not, but he should have realized Buck may not want that now that Bobby was back — now that he didn’t need Eddie to hold him together anymore.

“I—it’s not what you’re thinking, Eddie, I swear.”

“You could have said something, I didn’t mean to assume, we just—after Bobby, I thought—I can move to Chris’ room until he’s back home, and then—”

“No, Eddie, stop,” Buck says. He puts his hands on Eddie’s bare knees, as if he can physically stop Eddie’s stream of consciousness. It works, turns Eddie’s brain embarrassingly fuzzy from the two small points of contact. “That’s not the problem. I-I’m not uncomfortable. The opposite, actually.”

“You’re… too comfortable?” Eddie asks.

“I want it too much,” Buck says, words slurring together in a rush. He pulls his hands back to his lap, and Eddie misses them instantly.

“Want what?” Eddie asks, his own voice barely audible over the rushing in his ears.

Buck looks at his hands, wringing them so tightly his knuckles turn white. Eddie’s own are gripping the mug so hard he has to consciously unclench so he doesn’t put a crack the ceramic.

“Bobby told me he loved me, in the lab,” Buck says. It’s not what he expected to hear, and he rears back a bit in surprise. Buck isn’t fazed, continues, “I didn’t say it back, a-and that stuck with me, the whole time he was gone. Tore me up, really, that I didn’t get to tell him what he meant to me.”

“He knew,” Eddie says reflexively, because it’s true.

“But he deserved to hear it,” Buck insists. “And it made me think about—about things… really think. About the people I love, and how quickly you can lose them.”

It’s quiet for a bit, early morning birdsong the only sounds he can hear. Eddie twirls the mug around in his hand, watching the dregs swirl, and says, “Yeah. Death has a way of doing that. Recalibrates your whole life.”

Buck’s eyes are already on him when he looks up again. The breath he releases is shaky, cheeks flushed, curls askew. He’s beautiful, always, but especially now, backlit with sunlight streaming in through the gauzy curtains. Eddie’s entire nervous system thrums with want, with anticipation.

“You deserve to hear it too,” Buck says softly, and Eddie’s heart somersaults in his chest. “But I don’t want to lose you.”

“Buck—”

“And—and I needed you, before, and I still do but—it’s too much, I know. I’m taking too much, and I was just trying to—to not be. Especially now, when you’re about to leave, and when you and Chris come back I’ll have to go, and I just didn’t want to—”

Eddie surges forward, catching Buck’s jaw with one hand, and kisses him. He tastes like coffee and hazelnut, and makes a sweet soft sound when Eddie tilts his jaw where he wants him. His eyes are still closed when Eddie pulls away and brushes his thumb against Buck’s birthmark.

“I love you,” Eddie says, and Buck’s eyes fly open.

“Eddie,” he croaks.

“You deserve to hear it too,” Eddie echoes. “You deserve everything, Buck. You could never be too much, or want anything from me that I wouldn’t give you.”

Buck shakes his head, dislodging Eddie’s hand on his face. He curls it around Buck’s forearm instead. “I don’t deserve you, Eddie.”

“I’ll decide that, thank you very much,” Eddie insists with a grin.

Buck slowly returns the smile, lets Eddie lean in and kiss it off his face.

“Please be sure,” Buck begs him when they part, his hands on Eddie’s face. “Because I want—I want you so much, Eddie. I want everything with you.”

“Okay,” Eddie agrees easily. Buck frowns a bit, and Eddie takes the opportunity to climb into his lap. Buck accepts his weight easily, arms wrapped around Eddie’s waist while he presses a soft kiss to his pulse point. Buck shudders and tugs Eddie’s head up to look him in the eye.

“Seriously,” Buck says. “I want to stay here when you get back, with you and Chris. Like, permanently.”

“Okay,” Eddie agrees, pressing a kiss to Buck’s mouth.

“And I want to sign all the HR forms at work calling you mine.”

Eddie shivers — Buck misinterprets and tugs the blanket up around his shoulders, and the gesture is so sweet Eddie has to kiss him again. “Okay, baby,” he says against his mouth.

Buck whines, and they get distracted for awhile, lost in each the slick heat of each other’s mouths. Buck breathes, “I want to marry you.”

Eddie swallows hard, but the thought doesn’t scare him. Buck kisses his jaw, nuzzles into his neck, and Eddie says, “Okay.”

Buck lifts his head, smile lighting up the whole room. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Buck,” Eddie says. “I want it all. I want you in my house, my bed, everywhere. Everything.”

“God, Eddie, I love you, I love you so fucking much,”Buck says in a rush, and kisses him so hard their teeth clack together.

Neither of them notice the mug falling to the floor with a thump, staining the rug. It stays there for a month before Chris notices it, and Eddie watches with delight when Buck fishes it from under the couch, blush high on his cheeks when Chris asks how it got there. Chris quickly determines he doesn’t want to know when Buck stutters through an excuse, and rolls his eyes in mock disgust when Eddie snags the mug from Buck’s limp hand and kisses his cheek.

From that day on, it receives a place of honor on their windowsill. Buck deems it too lucky to drink from and plants some basil in it instead, and every time he cooks with it, Eddie could swear he tastes hazelnut.

—

prompts ❤️

[cod-dump]

The Shadows had their own culture, Price had accepted that by this point. His boys had theirs so he wasn’t really surprised. Just… they are a bit much.

“What… is that?”

One of the Shadows had walked right into Graves’ office when they were trying to form some vague impression of a plan to present to Laswell. And in that Shadows arms was-

“That’ll be the US of A’s majestic possum. With an ‘O’, might I add. Opossum.”

Price stared at the grey creature that had the darkest eyes he could only compare to Ghost’s. Graves wasn’t fazed, just reached behind him to the fruit bowl that Price kept wondering about and grabbed a banana. The Shadow, without a word, accepted the banana and left with possum in hand.

Price silently looked to Graves who just shrugged, “Boys found the thing when it was a baby and what they do with their paychecks ain’t my concern.”

Price blinks, “Ah… so how many-?”

“How many unusual ‘pets’ do the Shadows have? The weirdest I saw was Bobby. An alligator. But he’s wild. Though he likes to come over for pets.”

Honestly, what was he to say to that?

“You have it worse than me.”

Graves grinned, “Oh, this is an ‘us’ problem now.”

Shit.

[donovankinard]

there'll be happiness after you a post-8x15 firefam ficlet

i wrote this in a fit of easter inspiration after our family egg hunt. this was a hard year, and a rough holiday, and i really needed to find some joy in it, so that's what i did. it started as a drabble, but now it is... not that. the title comes from happiness by taylor swift.

“Thank you, for this, by the way,” Maddie murmurs. She’s clutching a glass of non-alcoholic white wine, sitting on the edge of Tommy’s back deck, with a soft blue cable-knit sweater sitting loosely on her frame. “Jee’s so young, she just…”

“Doesn’t understand.” Tommy finishes, and she nods. He takes a sip of his beer, setting it back down, and shakes his head gently. “It was the least I could do, Maddie, for you guys and for Bobby.”

Bobby; he’s, honestly, one of the biggest motivations behind this. His impact on Tommy’s life, despite so many years of estrangement and such a seemingly shallow relationship, altered him entirely. Bobby was the one who initiated Tommy’s transfer to Harbor, who helped him find a fresh start and never once judged him for needing it. Tommy thought Bobby’s family deserved some good, after everything that’s happened this last week.

And then…there’s Evan.

The younger man is standing in the middle of the backyard, with Jee-Yun sitting up onto his shoulders as he darts around, her tiny hands clinging to his forehead. Their team is racing against Denny and Mara to find the eggs scattered throughout the garden beds, although it mostly looks like Buck is trying to make his niece laugh – and succeeding.

It’s been a hard few days.

Christopher and Eddie came down to Los Angeles for the funeral next week, but the teenager doesn’t have any interest in the egg hunt, so he’s sitting in a desolate quiet. Tommy doesn’t know what the kid’s relationship with Bobby was like, but it’s obvious there was one, and he feels for Chris.

May is prancing across the yard, sneaking a few late-found eggs into Mara’s bucket and poking her tongue out at Harry, who’s helping Denny. She tosses a purple-foiled egg toward Ravi, and it hits him in the shoulder as he fumbles before dropping it. The flush clinging to his face makes Tommy want to laugh, just a little, but he doesn’t dare bring it up; the look he trades with Hen, though, tells him he isn’t the only one who sees it.

“How, uh, how’s Chimney doing?” Karen laces her hand in Hen’s, leaning to look past Tommy as she asks Maddie. “He wasn’t feeling up to this?”

Maddie shakes her head sadly, glancing out at the yard. “He… He’s not coping, with any of it. He’s angry about what Bobby did, putting him first that way. I don’t think he’s ready to deal with it yet.”

“I know what Bobby meant to me, and he was only my captain for a few months. I can’t imagine how it feels for you guys, and with the position Howie was in…” Tommy shakes his head.

Hen sighs. “Well, Buck seems to be holding up just fine. I– I don’t know how he pretends like it’s all okay, I’m on the verge of crying most of the time. Even the kids are worried.”

“I don’t think he’s just pretending,” Tommy replies softly. The women turn to him with inquisitive looks, eyes sad, and he elaborates. “I think he’s hoping that if he acts like what happened wasn’t so awful, he won’t have to feel it. He hasn’t even cried since he’s been here, but he was a wreck back at the lab.”

Tommy can’t imagine how Evan’s feeling, but he can see the shields being pulled up on all sides; it’s like Buck lost his father, but he doesn’t want to admit that because he doesn’t want to hurt the way he knows it will. 

“Hang on, Buck has been staying with you the whole time?” Karen interrupts with a coy smile – it’s an obvious bid toward happier topics, but a welcome one. “Tommy, when were you guys planning on telling us you’re back together?”

“We’re, uh, we’re not,” Tommy laughs, trying to ignore the skeptical looks from all sides.

Karen scoffs. “Come on.”

“Seriously,” Hen adds.

“My brother has been making heart eyes at you all day,” Maddie rounds it up. “You haven’t put a label back on it, but you guys are all in. Pretty sure I saw him kiss you on the cheek when you gave him the salad at lunch.”

Tommy looks back up at Evan; he’s now got Jee slung over one shoulder, as the girl clutches her basket of chocolates and Harry tries to get to them laughingly. It almost, really, looks like before; except for the crack in May’s expression, and the way Denny keeps glancing back over to check on his Mom. 

This isn’t quite the picture Tommy had imagined for their life together. There’s so much grief accenting every movement, every minute; this was supposed to be a happy Easter, a chocolate egg hunt and a nice lunch as a break from the mourning and the desolation.

But the absence of Bobby, beside Athena and Chim’s unwillingness to be here, is felt so sorely that none of it’s quite right.

“It’s not the right time, not with everything going on,” Tommy settles on, tone decided. “But we’ll get there. He’s worth waiting for.”

Karen and Hen both coo at that, and Tommy feels his skin flush, but they’re all interrupted by an adorable three-year-old being set safely on the floor and running up toward the deck. “Uncle Tommy! Denny and Harry are tyna take my choc-ate!”

There are a few gaps in her developing speech, but Tommy thinks that Jee speaks quite well for her age; all of that thought, though, is erased when Maddie clears her throat softly. “Jee, honey, what’d you call him?” She nods lightly toward Tommy.

“Uncle Tommy!” Jee-Yun announces proudly, before turning back to him and stamping a foot demandingly. “Let’s go, you gotta help!”

“Okay, okay!” Tommy stands up, crouching again so the little girl can clamber onto his back before darting out into the yard. He swings her around loosely, careful to keep his grip tight, and ignores the protestations of his ankles when he dodges Ravi lunging toward them.

Eddie clears his throat, watching it all with a stunned sort of quiet, his hand resting on Christopher’s shoulder as he turns to Karen. “It’s never going to be the same, is it?”

“No,” She concedes. The sun is starting to hang a little lower in the sky, casting shadows over their faces from the shutter-roof of the deck. “But it can still be happy.”

“He would’ve loved that,” Hen adds, wincing at the ache of her injury; but she ignores it, glancing back to Eddie before out at the yard, at the way everyone is somehow finding smiles to wear among the chocolate eggs. “Happy.”

thank you for reading! x

[screamlet]

118 daily drabble (day 15; defend)

@118dailydrabble

notes: bucktommy; bobby pov; catching up with the old 118

---

It's been about 15 years; Bobby's glad Tommy can finally laugh about it. 

Tommy has one arm firmly around Buck and one finger pointing at Sal. "I'm from LA. When the hell would I have seen a live chicken?" 

"You think that's helping your case," Sal replies. 

"Evan, I was defenseless. It was just me and this chicken, and Maurice had a knife."

"This was your dance." Sal wiggles in the booth. 

Buck leans into Tommy, whispering something that has him turn fire engine red.

"Bobby, don't listen." Buck doesn't miss a beat: "Was that the last time he ran from a cock?"

"I love him," Sal says, as Tommy laughs and gets apologetic kisses on the cheek. 

[fbfh]

did you know that Dean wakes up one morning and realizes he has a fucking bombshell of a wife/husband/spouse, a cozy (slightly rural) suburban house, and not one but three fucking daughters???? Did you know that he woke up one morning to toddler giggles and little kid bickering and baby babbling????? and your girls come charging in hushing their little giggles so they don't wake up mommy and daddy and so OBVIOUSLY he has to pretend to be asleep so he doesn't foil their plan. he focuses all his energy on keeping his face and body relaxed, keeping his breathing even. they're whispering and babbling and Dean peeks an eye open and looks at the love of his life and these three angels with their daddy's attitude and their mama's heart. they have your eyes and his smile. they're... the best parts of both of you, and there's something entirely new and beautiful in each of them too.

Bobby Dean is your oldest, and her 4th birthday is just around the corner. She's 3 and 3/4 right now, and won't let anyone forget it.

Your second is Jodi John, or JJ informally. She's fought her way half way through the terrible twos and is already getting a head start on the whole 3 going on 13 thing.

Mary Cass, or Cassie, is your youngest. She's just over a year old, and wants to do everything her big sisters do.

And Dean is looking at your little girls, and at you. He sees the way the morning sunlight dapples in through the window and illuminates their tangled hair and disney princess nightgowns. Your face is all puffy from sleep, and you still smell like the apple pie you made yesterday.

it's real, he realizes. that pipe dream that apple pie life.

you gave that to him. you did that. you turned his deepest, most unspoken desires into a reality like it was nothing. and every ounce of joy and love and peace he feels every moment of every day, he owes it all to you. You try to tell him on occasion when he gets all sentimental on you, he deserves it. he deserves every good thing he feels, and he's so great with the girls, he's a natural dad and you couldn't possibly dream of a better husband to do it with.

Because at his heart, Dean is a family man. He's your family man.

[pieandflannel]

Hi, your angst hit me hard, not gonna lie, and I was wondering if you are able to write like a part 2 of it where they reunite in heaven, maybe make it a little bit fluffy, idk, what ever your up to, it was so good, I literally had to look in a different direction so I won't cry, thank you 🥰

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ stairway to heaven ☁️

pt.2 to talking to the moon

⟢ ₊⊹ ✧ ₊⊹｡ ⋆ ˚ ⋆ ｡˚ ₊⊹｡ ʚ ⛥ ɞ ｡⊹₊ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ˚ ⋆ ｡⊹₊ ✧ ⊹₊ ⟢

pairing: dean winchester x gn!reader

summary: due to an unexpected accident you reunite with dean quicker than you expected

cw: angsty fluff, themes of death, cliche idea of heaven, mention of car crash. reference to season 15 (spoiler alert!), special guests (sam, bobby)

word count: 2k

julia yaps: i am so sorry it took me ages to answer your request, my brain refused to work on this sad topic, hope you enjoy this tho! 🥺

────────── ୨ৎ ──────────

you slowly open your eyes only to be greeted by the blinding brightness of nothingness. you squint and rub your eyes in an attempt to get them used to the light that surrounded you.

you managed to get up, wobbling a bit in your tracks before dusting yourself off. where the hell were you? you thought to yourself.

curiosity got the best of you so you started walking ahead of you, trying to explore the place, the bright seemingly empty place with nothing but fluffy cloud-like mist or fog. as you move forward your eye caught a glimpse of something shiny but in order to get to it you had to go up a flight of stairs.

“hello?” you called out, hoping to find someone with some kind of answers, any explanation as to what this place was. there was no response whatsoever, dead silence.

the first step you took onto the stairs felt elevating, and then the rest of them was a piece of cake. as you reached the top, you were welcomed by an enormous golden gate, the excruciatingly gorgeous details carved into every single inch, immediately catching your eye.

you tried to have a closer look at it all, lifting your hand up to gently caressing the gold with your fingertips. at that motion, the pearly gates started opening up with a tiny creaking sound, as if they needed a bit of oil on the hinges.

the sudden movement of the giant gate startling you slightly, but as they open up enough for you to walk through them, you took your chance in trying to explore the place further. as you took a step inside the scenery suddenly flipped.

it’s as if you were teleported to another place. a very beautiful place though, this must be a dream obviously, you thought to yourself. which would explain your chill attitude towards all the exploration without feeling the need to hold a knife or gun in your hand. that feeling of freedom and safety felt so refreshing, considering that most your existence you fought for your life or others lives, as a hunter.

the sound of leaves and twigs crunching under your boots echoed throughout the mountains. birds cooing and crickets chirping, the fresh but warm breeze tickling your face as the golden rays of sunlight shined through the trees. you stopped for a second to enjoy the beautiful landscape in front of you, the different shades of greens and browns all combined into an amazing view that contrasted with the clear blue sky with barely any clouds.

you started hearing a familiar bark in the distance, the sound getting closer and closer until you noticed miracle, dean’s dog that you took care of after his death, running towards you.

“miracle?! come here boy, c’mere!” you called out to him in your high pitched voice that you always used on dogs, patting your thighs encouraging him to run towards you. you knelt down with open arms and before you knew it miracle was all over you, licking your face, jumping up and down with happiness that he’s seeing you. you couldn’t help but giggle, ruffling his hair. “oh what are you doing here all alone boy?” you asked him as if he was going to answer. a big smile on your face, it felt like you haven’t seen him in years. odd.

you were so occupied with petting and playing with miracle that you didn’t even notice someone standing in your line of vision. you wondered who the boots belonged to, maybe this certain someone could help you find out where you were?

your eyes slowly scanned up their body. biker boots, jeans, green jacket, burgundy flannel, black tshirt and then– there it was, the face of a man that owned your heart. none other than dean winchester himself.

dean had a big ol’ smile on his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners. he was clearly as happy as miracle to see you, if not more.

“dean?” you exclaimed as you got up from your knees and jumped into his arms, nearly tripping him over while at it. he buried his face in your hair, inhaling your sweet scent. his embrace was tight, you could feel all those years of longing spill into the hug. and of course you returned with the same energy, your grip on his jacket making your knuckles turn white, you didn’t want to let him go, especially if it was a dream that would eventually come to an end, and you’d have to wake up.

“is it really you?” you asked in disbelief, tears welling up in your eyes as you looked up at him. dean nodded with the smile you missed oh so much. you let out a sigh of relief before pulling him in for a soft but passionate kiss, your hands cupping his jaw, all these years of yearning and longing spill into the kiss, from both sides, not just yours. you pull away with a smile “i can’t believe i’m finally having a dream about you”

dean’s smile slowly disappeared at your words, and a worried expression replaced it. you noticed his sudden shift. “what is it?” you asked with a small head tilt. dean looked away for a second before meeting your eyes again.

his expression soft and empathetic, “i don’t know how to tell you this but-“ he started off but before he could finish you cut him off.

“oh my god, sam?!” you squealed running up to him and giving him a big hug, he wrapped his arms around you tightly, “thank god you’re okay, i was starting to get worried that-“ sam started but dean give him a quick hand sign to shut up. you frowned at his words, this dream is getting a little weird, you thought.

you pulled away from the hug, looking at sam confused. “worried that what? guys.. why are you acting so odd?” you began to question. you turned to look at dean who had a mixed expression, he sure as hell was glad to see you but concerned about how you’ll react to what they were about to tell you.

“dean!” you whined softly trying to get him to talk.

dean looked at sam and gave him a nod, “i think it’s best if sam told you..”

you frown in confusion, getting slightly scared. “tell me what?” you gave dean a glance before turning to face sam. now you demanded an answer.

sam shifted slightly on the spot, he took a deep breath, “do you remember what happened?” he looked into your eyes with a deep emotion that you couldn’t quite read. you squinted your eyes a little, “no.. i-“ you tried to go back to what happened before you arrived here. you assumed this was dreamland so you tried to remind yourself where did you fall asleep.

the two men let you figure it out on your own, at it would have been best for you to. your frown turned into a face of panic, not being able to remember the part where you lay down in bed or rest your head on the leather seat of the impala.

“i don’t-“ you started tearing up as the sudden flash of memory came back to you. the memory of two bright headlights of a transportation truck getting closer and closer to the side of the impala. “we were in the car..” you explained what you finally remembered.

“and.. a big truck was heading too quick on a crossroad..” as you say that out loud it all hits you like the truck did. you gasped, looking up into sam’s eyes with devastation in yours. you covered your mouth in pure shock. “we got hit.. on the side, the car tipped” your voice trembling.

sam nodded, “we.. didn’t survive to impact, i’m sorry..” he added with an empathetic tone as if he didn’t die himself, you let out a soft sigh as a stray tear rolled down your cheek. you felt dean’s hand gently rubbing your back in an attempt to sooth you. “we died in a car crash..?” you asked in disbelief, deep down hoping that you misheard or maybe misunderstood, sam gave you a hesitant nod. “..wow” was all you could vocalise as the information sank in.

you cleared your throat, “so this is..” you tried to say it out loud but you couldn’t spit it out, denial creeping up on you.

“you’re in heaven sweetheart” dean stepped in, he knew this was a hard pill to swallow and that you’d need time to accept that you’ve died, along with sam and miracle. you let out a broken chuckle as tears filled your eyes. dean pulled you back into a hug, his hand rubbing your back in a slow, calming motion. his chin resting on the top of your head.

for a long minute, you say nothing. you just let dean hold you.

“honestly didn’t think we’d end up here after all the shit we’ve done” you broke the silence with a joke, trying to distract yourself with lighthearted humour. you heard the two men chuckle softly at your words.

you sniffled and wiped your tears away with your sleeve. “at least we are all together now right?” you tried to see the positive side of it all, even if it was hard.

“yeah, we are” dean mumbled into your hair, a soft smile on his face. once he felt your body gradually relaxing, tension disappearing, he slowly let go of you. and instead he intertwined his fingers with yours, holding your hand.

“now how bout we go say hi to bobby” he suggested as he gently shook your hand in his, a smile curving on his face. he couldn’t take his emerald green eyes off you, his heart thumping in his chest at how happy he was to finally reunite with you, his true love.

you nodded enthusiastically.

dean whistled, “come on boy, let’s go” he called to miracle, and then the four of you walked towards bobby’s cabin.

you had so much questions to ask about this place, but you knew not to throw them all at once at dean. “so.. this is how heaven looks like, huh? so not what i expected”

dean smiled, the corners of his eyes scrunching slightly, looking up at the mountains and trees. “yeah, jack made sure to make this place as peaceful as possible, and where everyone could be together, not just isolated in their own little memory for eternity” dean explained.

“jack did a terrific job with this place” sam added, casually admiring the nature scenery as you walked down the path that lead to bobby’s place.

“he really did” you agreed, you glanced at dean with a smile before looking around, taking in the beauty of this place.

“you three idjits better not walk all over my petunias, or i’ll rock salt you with my shotgun” you heard bobby yell from his porch as he sat in his rocking chair. his threat lacking the hostility, your giggle making bobby smile.

“well i’ll be darned..” bobby stood up from his chair, looking all happy to see you. you strolled quickly towards him to give him a hug. “hey bobby”

“so.. gardening, huh bobby?” sam teased with a cheeky little grin.

“what? it’s calming, clears your head and it lowers your blood pressure” he explained seriously.

“bobby you know you can’t die from high blood pressure in heaven, right?” dean chuckled, joining into teasing the older man.

“shut up” bobby muttered.

the interaction felt like you got taken back in time, back to bobby’s house during the festive season, teasing and bickering like a family at a table full of home cooked food with a football game or shitty hallmark movie playing in the background.

you had a feeling you’ll be okay, and you were. because now you were all together. safe and retired from the dangerous job that brought you guys all together in the first place.

thank you so much for reading! feedback and reblogs are always deeply appreciated <3

tags: @jensino @emeraldcrs @soldiersgirl @jensenacklesballsack @missus-ackles @littlesoulshine @deanswifeyy @slut4jackles @h8aaz @bruisedfig @angelicjackles @losers-clvb @lyarr24 @cowboysandcigarettes @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @rositaslabyrinth @deanspookiebear @tinas111 @bejeweledinterludes @miss-marmalade @pinksatinpanties @multiversefanfics @cupidzbunny @heartrendercastiel @sunnyteume @mrsanakinwinchesterpoldark @krabog @that-stanford-girlie @pwin098 @tendertulip @honeyyxxbee @rerejunebug

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[castiwls]

"uh-oh, i'm falling in love."

being Bobby's adopted daughter and falling in love with Dean... [requested - anon]

You were around 15 when your parents were killed in a hunting incident and as a result, Bobby ended up taking you in.

You’d spent the first few months sulking around the house, something which began to worry Bobby as months passed and your behaviour seemed no different.

He knew he had to break your behaviour somehow but he was completely stumped. That was until one day he woke up to John quickly shoving his sons in the door before running off to do go knows what. 

Silently cursing the man out he quickly invited the two boys inside before continuing with breakfast (now for 4 people). 

“Who are they?” You looked up from the book you’d been reading, frowning in slight confusion at the two boys who were currently standing in the doorway. The younger of the two smiled brightly before almost tripping over himself to see what you were reading while the older silently gapped in the doorway. Since when did Bobby have a daughter?

After this, you quickly found friends in both the boys. 

While Sam was someone who you could talk to about lore and any other books you might have been reading, Dean was someone who you were able to fully confide in.

Over the three weeks the boys stayed you and Dean quickly became inseparable and for the first time in months, you didn't feel grief-stricken constantly. You actually felt happy.

Over the years Sam and Dean became a constant in your life. As you grew older Bobby began letting you go on hunts with the Winchesters (something which Dean enjoyed more than he would admit.)

Over time though you felt a slight shift in your feelings towards the older boy. Every time you saw him or even heard his voice butterflies would swarm in your stomach and your cheeks would quickly grow hot.

The shrill ringing of your phone pulled you from your book. A small frown played on your lips as you noted the name on your screen. “Hello?” Placing your book down you crossed your legs sitting up properly on your bed. “Hey. I didn’t wake you right?” Dean sounded sheepish almost as he spoke. At the sound of his voice, a small burst of butterflies exploded in your stomach. “no..no I was awake.”

Late-night phone calls quickly became an almost daily occurrence whenever you weren't together, and when you were together these phone calls were exchanged for late-night diner trips just the two of you.

Every day you felt yourself falling harder and harder for Dean Winchester and little did you know he felt the same. 

After Sam had gone to Stanford Dean had showed up on your doorstep only hours later, his eyes red as he’d quietly asked to stay the night.

He’d ended up staying for a few weeks after that. You’d spent every day together over that time simply listening to him talk about what had happened between his dad and brother and how he was scared for Sam being on his own.

As happy as you were that Sam had gotten out it broke your heart slightly to see how Dean was handling the situation.

Over this time you’d found yourself more than once falling asleep beside him (something which Bobby wasn’t too happy about) and you’d also felt yourself grown closer and closer to him.

He’d allowed himself to be vulnerable around you, something which you knew was hard for him. The idea that he trusted you enough simply left your heart fluttering in your chest.

During these few weeks, Dean quickly found himself falling further and further in love with you. He’d known for a while now that he had feelings for you but the way you’d allowed him to unload onto you and made him realise how utterly in love with you he truly was.

One night when you’d both been sat on one of the old cars in the scrap yard he finally felt his feelings bubble over.

The world was quiet as you and Dean both sat watching the stars above. You knew he had to leave soon, his dad had been relentless with his calls saying that Dean needed to come back to his job and that he’d had enough time. Truthfully you didn’t want him to leave. Over the last few weeks, you’d grown used to the warmth of him beside you. “My dad’s coming in the morning.” Dean turned to face you. “He insisted this time.” He frowned, rubbing his thumb over your hand. “What time?” You asked quietly turning to look at him. “He didn’t give one,” Dean answered. You both fell slightly for a moment, simply gazing into each other's eyes. As if being pulled in by a magnet you felt your body move on its own until you met Dean halfway. As his lips pressed against yours you felt his hand cup the back of your head while your own moved to his knee.

After that night your relationship changed. Neither of you actually asked the question but the unspoken promise was there. Dean Winchester had stolen your heart and it seemed you had also stolen his. 

[missmarveledsblog]

A kind of sex education ( platonic cas x winchesters x reader)

summary : when castiel curious nature after watching adult movies leads to a strange string of questions and learning of their sex lives . 

warnings well there is really none just awkward sex talk . this is more a drabble   

What was supposed to be a normal ass day of research ended up more strange then any hunt well it definitely up there . She wanted to prove dean wrong but walked in on castiel doing his own research . eyes locked on the screen , while head tilted in confusion and a woman's moans filled the room making the two freeze to their spot. 

" is he watching..." her voice trailed off .

" porn yeah , we've got an angel watching porn " dean shook his  head .

" erm cas buddy that stuff is not for the communional area's more privacy of your own room " she winced as the sound of skin slapping got louder.

" if the pizza man truly loves the babysitter why does he keep  slapping her rear ?"  he turned to the red faced  hunters standing before him .  " perhap she has done something wrong" he added. 

" cas turn it off please" she asked quicker and louder ,making cas stand and her to gasp . " oh my ,dean does he have " she turned to the man .

" A boner yep " he snorted .

" Cas why are you watching this " she asked sitting across from him noticing his eyes trail to her chest.

" You can't watch porn in a room filled with dude's and Y/N " the older winchester chuckled wondering would sam believe him .

" I was bored and bobby told me to borrow a video out of his room" he looked even more confused what was wrong .

" Well good to know i can never look bobby in the eyes again " she felt her cheeks heating up giving the situation.

" Is sex like this in real life " he asked making her wishing she went on the supply run .

" no never , i mean the girls finish for one  and those moanS so fake " she snorted making dean shoot her alook .

" A Man never made you finish " he asked curiously.

" Cas you can't ask a chick that ... but yeah what "he said  turning to Y/N for some help .

" No they have not anyway's  cas sex is nothing like these movies their just fantasized version  that people mainly watch to well get off " she explained awkwardly again wanting to leave the room as soon as she could. 

" Alone so don't whip it out " dean added seeing the angel looking down at his crotch .

" Do you watch it " cas asked looking straight at her.

"  i mean yeah i do sometimes " she smiled weakly seeing deans face light up .

" That's hot sweet girl " he winked .

" that made it move " Cas looked down at his crotch .

" Oh kill me now " she cried as dean doubled over laughing .

" Do you like your rear slapped " Cas asked still filled with questions.

" ok ok why is this aimed at me " she stood.

" I mean trench coat baby has valid questions so sweetheart does spanking get you going " dean teased finding the whole thing amazing . 

" wouldn't you like to know " she winked before leaving the room before the angel curiosity killed her . 

" Hey i wanted to know " dean yelled just as sam walked in almost dropping the bag of groceries  when he had seen what was on the screen .

" Why are you and cas watching porn " he arched his brows .

" Cause he found it in bobbies room  and was curious and just to clarify he was watching it not me " dean snorted.

" Does Y/N like her rear smacked she wasn't clear on her answer " castiel asked standing and to full attention still .

" Ithink i'm going to go back to the store , maybe never come back " sam walked back out the door.

"damn it cas go fix that or have a cold shower" dean huffed leaving the angel standing confused to what was going on  and why everyone was so uncomfortable .

...........

To say dinner time in the bunker was filled with tension was an understatement . all eyes on their plates to bobby's confusion , hell Y/N hasn't looked at him once .

" Ok what the hell happened here  did you walk in on those too having sex or something " he gestured to dean and Y/N .

" No Y/N has never finished in sex " cas said easily .

" someone seriously just shoot me " she groaned.

" i'd let you finish princess " dean winked.

" Erm cas may have gotten his hands on a special movie from your room and it lead to some interesting question mainly aimed at our female hunter " sam explain.

" Pizza boy and babysitter really man " dean asked as bobby's eyes found his plate really interesting all of a sudden.

" I'm going to eat in my room and never talk to you guys again except sam " she ran out the room with her plate.

" Hey want me to join you for dessert" dean called .

"  Fuck off " she yelled back .

" Thank god we don't have a HR department " sam muttered. 

" She never gonna talk to any of us again " bobby face was beet red knowing his niece now knew what he had in his room .

" Who even has porn  dvds anymore " .

" I fixed my boner earlier alone like you said " cas said as the other  dropped their forks . 

" I'm joining Y/N , you guys deal with this " sam ran down the hall . 

" is he going to smack her rear ?  ".

" Ok no more porn questions ever watch it in your room in private and never tell us again and stop asking y/n sex questions before she  leaves us altogether" dean deadpanned.

" We're definitely going to hell for getting an angel hooked on porn " bobby mumbled. 

part two

[hyruling]

buddie prompt finale eve here we go 45. feeling their temperature 🥺

Eddie’s hot.

Which, okay. That’s like saying Maddie is his sister, or Christopher is the best kid in the world, or Chim is an annoying brother in law. Objectively true, directly observable statements of fact.

But Eddie’s hot. Like, sweating all over Buck under two blankets hot. And normally, as a cold-natured person, Buck would be very into that. But he can feel sweat soaking through the two layers of Eddie’s t-shirt and Buck’s hoodie, pressed together as they are in the center of Buck’s bed. A new development in his life as Eddie’s roommate that he is handling very normally, by the way.

“Eddie,” Buck whispers in the quiet.

Eddie doesn’t stir. Buck reaches over him, trapped by Eddie’s head on his chest, and checks Eddie’s phone — three thirty-two in the morning. They have to be up for a shift in two and a half hours.

“Eddie,” Buck tries again, nudging him with his shoulder, but he’s still dead to the world. He hates to wake him from such a deep slumber — he tries to gently roll him off instead but Eddie clings, the way he tends to do in his sleep. A fact Buck is intimately familiar with after a month of sharing a bed.

“Hey,” Buck murmurs, and switches tactics. He gently pushes Eddie’s sweaty hair off his forehead and mutters his name again. Briefly, he wonders if he forgot to turn the air down before bed, but he can hear it blowing above their heads along with the fan. Eddie is a white noise snob, insists on keeping the fan and air purifier both on all night. He claims it drowns out Buck’s snoring, usually with a teasing lilt in his voice that drives him crazy, but honestly, he has a point. Buck’s never slept better.

Eddie finally stirs after Buck strokes his hair for a minute, snuffling into Buck’s neck with his eyes still closed. “‘S matter?”

“Nothing, it’s just a little hot in here. I’m gonna go turn the air down.”

“No,” Eddie says, voice pitched in an uncharacteristic whine. He wraps a sweaty thigh around Buck’s, effectively trapping him even further. “‘M cold.”

“You’re cold?” Buck asks incredulously. “You’re sweating Eddie.”

Eddie just groans, mashing his face against Buck’s neck, and it’s then that he can feel how warm Eddie’s face is.

“Hey, c’mere.”

He’s still half asleep himself, can barely muster the energy needed to manhandle a sleepy and slightly combative Eddie, but he manages to maneuver him around enough to lay a hand on his forehead. It’s hot, fever hot, and Buck is abruptly wide awake.

“Eddie, hey. I think you have a fever.”

“‘Kay,” Eddie mumbles.

“No, hey, don’t go back to sleep. We need to get some Tylenol in you, and some water.”

“‘M fine, Buck, lemme sleep.”

“I will, I promise, you just—you gotta let me get some medicine in you, okay?”

“Ugh,” Eddie groans. “Fine.”

He releases his grip on Buck, who scrambles out of bed, nearly tripping over the jeans he didn’t manage to get into the hamper earlier. He makes a pit stop in the kitchen for a bottle of water. In the bathroom, he grabs Tylenol and wets a washcloth, then returns to the bedroom to see Eddie curled into a ball under the comforter, shivering.

“Hey, sit up for me, okay?” Buck says. He perches on the sheets next to him and rubs his thumb over Eddie’s collarbone.

Eddie obeys with a little more gentle coaxing, eyes glazed and exhausted when he finally opens them. Buck gets him to swallow the Tylenol and presses the cool washcloth against his forehead. Eddie grunts appreciatively and downs nearly the rest of the water without Buck even nagging him.

“Throat hurts,” Eddie rasps, handing the bottle back. His shirt is soaked in sweat.

“Yeah, you’re sick bud. Think you caught that bug Jamison had last week.”

Eddie giggles for some reason, and says, “Bud. Bug. ‘S almost the same word.”

And Buck — normally, Buck would laugh with him. Would tease out more delirious ramblings, and secretly delight in how cute he is any time his inhibitions are lowered. But right now, after everything, all he can feel is a dull sort of panic climbing its way up his throat, making it hard to breathe.

“Yeah, that’s true,” Buck says with an uneasy chuckle. “Hey, why don’t you—”

“You’re my bud,” Eddie continues, poking Buck in the chest. His eyes are half-lidded, glinted with mischief, and he grins crookedly at Buck. “My—my bud bug. My bed bug, ha.”

His heart gives a helpless little tug, made worse by Eddie dragging his finger down Buck’s chest and curling possessively in the pocket of his hoodie. “Okay, Eddie. You’re pretty out of it, I think maybe I need to take you to an urgent care.”

“Nooo, it’s just a fever,” Eddie protests, tugging at Buck’s hoodie. “I can sleep it off.”

“Eddie—”

“No. Our deductible is like. Stupid high, bug, I can’t afford it right now.”

Buck is momentarily comforted that he can think about his deductible while in this state, but that bug nags at him. Almost as much as it sends heat flooding into his cheeks.

“My name’s Buck, Eddie.”

“I know that, Evan,” Eddie snarks, and at the rate Eddie’s nickname and full-naming him, Buck’s gonna have to call an ambulance for himself. “I’m not that far gone. Can I go to sleep now?”

“Let me at least call Hen—”

“Don’t bother Hen,” Eddie insists. “It’s the middle of the night, and I’m a medic. I think I would know if I was dying.”

“It didn’t—”

Buck cuts himself off. He can’t lay this on Eddie tonight, when he’s half asleep and zonked from fever. But Eddie latches on like a tick, eyes suddenly sharp, and the hand tucked in Buck’s pocket wraps around his wrist instead.

“Didn’t what?”

“Nothing,” Buck says. “C’mon, lay back down.”

“Buck,” Eddie says firmly, shockingly so. “We aren’t doing that again. Talk to me.”

“In the morning,” Buck tries, but Eddie shakes his head, presses his fingers into Buck’s pulse point.

“Buck.”

Buck sighs, knows Eddie won’t get any rest until Buck explains himself.

“It’s just. Bobby, he didn’t—he didn’t die in a fire, or in a rescue, he—he got sick. And I know, I know it’s not the same thing, you’re not—but I just. I don’t know. It’s dragging up some—some shit, I guess. I can’t lose anyone else. Especially not—”

He snaps his mouth shut with a click, but it’s too late. He’s laid himself bare, and for a moment he desperately hopes Eddie won’t remember this in the morning.

Eddie stares at him, mouth set in a small frown. The hand on his wrist squeezes, a gentle and grounding pressure against his thundering heartbeat. Eddie must be able to feel it, but he just strokes his thumb softly over Buck’s hand and says, “You’re right, it’s not the same. I’m okay, Buck. I’ll be okay. I promise.”

“I know,” Buck says. I’m going to make sure of it this time, he doesn’t. “But you’re a notoriously bad patient, so you need to trust me.”

Eddie chuckles, then coughs, a rough sound that makes Eddie wince. “Says the guy who wanted to come back to work a week after literally dying.”

“It was two weeks.”

Eddie waves a hand. His eyes are drooping again, and he shivers a bit. “Semantics.”

“Okay, come on. Let’s change your shirt and get you back to sleep. I’ll call Hen in the morning, tell her we’re not coming in.”

Eddie grumbles a bit about Buck not needing to take time off just for him, but Buck can tell his heart’s not really in it. Buck tugs off his shirt and grabs the first clean one he finds, which happens to be one of his. Not that either of them are paying all that much attention to that kind of detail anymore, another facet of his new living situation that he refuses to look at directly. He gets Eddie into it and makes him finish the bottle of water before he all but collapses back onto the pillows.

Buck climbs back in on his side, pulls the comforter up over Eddie’s shoulders when he starts shaking again. Eddie shuffles close like he’s going to koala himself around Buck again, but hesitates at the last second.

“I can—sleep on the couch,” Eddie offers around a jaw-cracking yawn. “Don’t wanna get you sick.”

“Oh, yeah, actually, would you mind?” Buck teases, just to see the look of shock and betrayal that passes over Eddie’s face. He doesn’t disappoint — Buck laughs, and Eddie swears in Spanish under his breath.

“It’s rude to tease a sick person, you know,” he says, then tucks himself back against Buck’s side, head pillowed on his chest

Buck snorts and pulls Eddie closer. “It’s too late anyway. I’m sure I’ll be right behind you.”

Eddie hums, drawls, “I’ll take care of you. If you are.”

Buck closes his eyes, and pretends the warmth spreading through him is from Eddie’s overheated skin. “You always do.”

He checks Eddie’s forehead again, and Eddie mutters sleepily, “Y’know, lips are a better measure of body temperature than hands.”

Buck stills, heart in his throat. “That so?” he croaks.

Eddie nods, jaw digging in Buck’s clavicle. “More sens’tive. I’m a medic, I would know.”

“Guess you would,” Buck manages with a soft chuckle. He wishes he had brought another bottle of water to bed, throat suddenly parched.

“So? What’s the verdict?” Eddie mumbles with a shoulder nudge, hanging onto consciousness by a thread.

And Buck, unable to deny Eddie anything in the best of circumstances, twists his neck and presses his lips to Eddie’s forehead. Eddie sighs, and Buck would swear he leans into it, gives Buck no choice but to let his mouth linger over the dry, overwarm skin. Eddie’s hair tickles his nose — he can smell their shampoo and a faint hint of sweat, and breathes him in while he can.

“Still sick,” Buck declares, lips brushing Eddie’s forehead. “Go to sleep.”

He doesn’t respond, and Buck thinks maybe he’s finally drifted off. But just as he’s about to fall asleep himself, Eddie noses at Buck’s neck and murmurs, “Thanks, bug,” close to his ear.

It’s almost worth the misery of the weeklong cold he catches, just for that.

—

prompts xo

[onlygenxhere]

So hear me out...

“So hear me out…” Luke leaned forward. “We kidnap him…”

“No.” Alex sighed.

“We trap him…” Reggie started.

“No!” Julie threw her hands up. “I know you all want to talk to Trevor.”

“Bobby!” They chorused.

“Bobby.” She rolled her eyes. “But trapping him or scaring him is not the way to go about it.” She took a deep breath and sat down. “I know we all saw him at the Orpheum, but we don’t know what that means.”

“Then what would you suggest boss?” Luke crossed his arms.

“Maybe your old friend will come see you himself.” Trevor interjected.

A Drabble a Day in May

[cod-dump]

Price strikes me as the kinda guy to vocally oppose getting a pet but then after a few weeks you find him cuddling said pet.

Price is very, very confused about the whole opossum and alligator shenanigans the Shadows have going on, but after about a month of him and Graves being together Graves catches him throwing marshmallows into the gator's paddock.

Graves got a photo of it, Price will never live it down.

"Your ancestors ate dinosaurs. Do you know that?"

No reply. Of course if there was one then he should be concerned about himself mentally.

Bobby, an thirty two year old gator. He was a senior in the wild, Price had to respect the old man. It wasn't every day you got to see an apex predator that was around three meters in length. Especially one so oddly docile. He was sunbathing at the moment, hadn't bothered to move when Price approached the fence.

From what Graves told him, the Shadows always are in uniform when they go tend to Bobby. Alligators know the faces of their handlers and definitely remember the color of their shirts, so Price made the effort to dress in black in an attempt to get the old reptile to be nice.

Bobby couldn't care less he was there.

"Phil said you liked marshmallows."

He didn't really believe it, which was why he was here. A small baggie of the sweet treats in his pocket, hidden in fear Graves would catch him. He couldn't let him know he had a fascination with Shadow Company's resident crocodilian.

Bobby finally showed interest when Price pulled out the baggie.

"I guess you have a sweet tooth," Price snickered.

He threw at least four marshmallows into Bobby's waters, watching in wonder as the alligator took his time collecting each one. Then he heard a click, right as he was about to throw another one in. In horror, he turned to see Graves standing there, grinning.

"Ya know, he reminds me of you. 'Cept he doesn't talk as much shit."

Price immediately pelted the marshmallow in hand at Graves, throwing the bag next when Graves started laughing.

[setmeatopthepyre]

Begin

[@118dailydrabble day 14] [part of antarct-fic | bucktommy | 118 words]

It's just a short update in the LAFD captains' newsletter: “217 – Temporary Roster Changes”.

Bobby usually doesn't concern himself too much with the goings-on at other stations, but the 217 is one of the exceptions. So he clicks.

“Kinard, T. - Reassignment through USAP to McMurdo Station Heliport, Antarctica, effective immediately”

Bobby stares at his screen a moment longer. Glances at the clock.

He has to assume that Buck doesn't know. Feels like there would have been some.. fallout, of some sort.

Finally, he gets up and goes to make coffee. The rest of A-shift will be in soon, and he has until then to... think. To decide.

How does he even begin to tell Buck about this?

[screamlet]

118 daily drabble (day 65; brawl)

@118dailydrabble

notes: bobby pov, bucktommy fix-it fic (here's the sequence bobby's referencing)

---

Bobby remembers the 60s West Side Story movie. There's a scene where the Sharks and Jets have a dance-off at a gym. The Buck-vs-Tommy brawl at the LAFD Charity Bingo Night feels like that after the 217 and 118 move outside.

Buck howls, "Just say you don't love me and I'll never bother you again!"

"It's not about love, it's—"

Everyone holds their breath.

"Evan," Tommy pleads, "I'm gonna keep fucking up."

"Tommy, we're people! We fuck everything up all the time!"

"And you're okay with that? You'll love me anyway?"

Both houses sigh with relief as Buck slams into Tommy, devouring him in a kiss—but then comes the struggle to separate them and avoid public indecency charges.

[typicalopposite]

And so maybe I have been thinking a lot about the clipboard!118 proposal… and looking at it from the other side of things.

Tommy has had the ring a couple months now. He maybe, sorta, kinda impulsively bought it after their last date left him 100% sure Evan was the one. He just hasn’t figured out how to go about popping the question.

Logically he knows he could just casually ask him over a morning coffee, and Evan would be as speechless and emotional as if it were the most extravagant proposal to ever be proposed. But as much as Tommy would prefer a more casual approach, he still wants it to be something special. He wonders what would be most special to Evan.

And then the idea comes so easy.

The 118.

He goes to Eddie, spins the idea of getting everyone to help with the proposal. Eddie thinks it’s an amazing idea and he FaceTimes Hen and Chim to share the idea. Hen is the one to suggest the clipboard. Tommy has questions, but they all just vaguely insist its an inside joke that he will definitely get and Tommy leaves it at that.

He goes to Bobby and Athena’s next. Bobby isn’t Buck’s dad — Tommy has already set aside a day to speak with him and Buck’s mom regardless of the tension in theirs and Buck’s relationship — but he is extremely important to Buck and Tommy (hell anyone who watches their interactions) can see the feeling is mutual. Bobby couldn’t give his blessing fast enough.

The day comes and Eddie is off to start what will be a chain reaction of Buck being bounced around from person to person. After Hen takes him from Maddie and Chim’s, Tommy comes out from the room he’d been hiding in to ride with them to the station.

“You ready?” Chim asks, eyes turning soft as he straightens Tommy’s tie.

“Of course,” Tommy replies. He is, he really is. Maybe more than he has been for anything else in his life, ever.

“You got the ring?”

“Right here.” Tommy pulls the box out of his pocket.

“Is the ring in it?” Chimney asks, face now serious.

“Uhhh… yeah, it should be,” Tommy laughs.

“Have you checked…”

Tommy blinks, but Chim’s eyes are focused on the box. Tommy opens it and reveals the band inside.

Chim’s face softens once again, a big smile spreading across it and he pats Tommy on the shoulder. “Alright then�� let’s go get you engaged.”

[achilles-rage]

okay i got an ask a few days ago about the new episode, and i didn't wanna answer it normally just because it's kinda spoiler-y, so i'm gonna post a screenshot of it below the cut and then answer it so anyone who hasn't seen the new episode won't get spoiled!!

but this is comforting buck after a hard day<33

okay honestly i'm not even sure how to start this, because idk if sitting in silence and just being with each other would be better for him or trying to distract him in some way. like, of course he needs to feel his emotions; that's basically his dad that just died, but i think it would be very easy to slip into a deep depression in this scenario because he was right there and couldn't do anything to save his family.

i think when he first comes home and tells you, you'd just have to hold him for a while. he came home from work disheveled and exhausted, so once he spends a while in your arms, you'd have to slowly lead him to the bathroom so you can help him shower. you'd help wash him, then help him dry off, and then when you're both in comfy clothes, you'd try to get him to eat, and he only would because you have to beg him.

his place would just be so deafeningly quiet for a while. not a lot of talking. no laughing. you'd definitely have to remind him to eat and drink water because he'd be so in his head about it, and absolutely any free time would be spent on the couch/in bed holding each other close.

god, i'm just imagining waking up in the middle of the night to his side of the bed empty, and at first you're confused and then you hear sobbing coming from down the hall and you find him in the bathroom practically hyperventilating. you'd have to kneel in front of him and hold his face in your hands and make him mirror your breathing to try to calm him down while you comfort him with soft words.

when you finally get him back into bed he's holding you so close. his face is pressed against your chest and he's half on top of you because now he's also thinking about losing you too and all he can do is hold you tighter because he's afraid you'll be gone when he wakes up.

he would definitely go over to athena's. i think that would bring him a lot of comfort. sometimes he wants you there, and sometimes he just wants time with her to talk about bobby, and when he comes home, he feels a little better, but there's most definitely a spark inside of him that never fully reignites because one of the people he loved the most is gone and he'll never see them again :((

(i just made myself upset, thank you anon<33)