#i still never love the athena one whole thigh out thing but i get it i get it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jungwonenthusiast · 3 years

Note

hi! i read one of your heeseung smuts and i fell in love with your writing! so i was wondering if i could request a smut with sunghoon when he founds out that the reader is obsessed with his thighs, and that leads to thigh riding the reader leaving hickeys all over his thighs.

for some reason lately ive just been so obsessed with sunghoons thighs. i just have a feeling that theyre really pretty hehe, anyways, have a good day or night! keep weiting amazing things🥰✨😌

A/N: hi! Thank u so much for your kind words <3 sorry this is so late i just lost motivation for a bit lol

Warnings: fem! reader x soft dom! sunghoon, thigh riding, unprotected sex, fingering

Word count: 1.6k

You drop to your knees and kiss the insides of his thighs through his jeans as he sits at the edge of the couch, legs spread and ready for you to suck him off.

“What’s with you and this?” he asks and you look up.

“What do you mean?”

He leans down and picks your chin up. “I’ve never met a girl who paid so much attention to my thighs.”

You blush and shrug.

He smirks. “You know I notice the way you stare at them.” he caresses your face. “Whenever I’m dancing, or even when I’m just standing around.”

��Because they’re pretty.” you say sheepishly.

“Come here doll,” he leans down and pulls you into his lap. Like all the way from the floor. He always surprises you with how strong he is. “I wanna try something.”

He pets your hair and kisses your jaw. You loop your arms around his neck with a small smile. He grabs your hips and moves you so that you’re sitting right on his left thigh. Your heart begins to race. Is this really happening? You ask yourself. The thing you’ve been daydreaming about for forever.

His lips move up to meet yours. He knows you inside and out, every touch is with purpose.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he says before pushing his tongue against yours. He holds the small of your back and softly guides you against him.

You moan a bit into his mouth and he smiles.

He leans back onto the couch and pulls your chest against his.

You don't need his guidance anymore, your hips are rocking over him with ease and every time you grind, you just want more and more.

“Feel good?” he rubs your back and you nod into his neck.

“How long have you been wanting to do this?” he asks lowly.

“Months now,” you exhale.

He kisses the side of your head. “My dirty girl, fantasizing about me when she’s all alone in her room.” he squeezes your ass. “Playing with that pretty pussy under the covers.”

You whimper and nod.

“What does my sweet doll think about when she’s touching herself?” he teases and your breath hitches in hesitation. “Don’t be nervous,”

“I think about… you… your hands on me, your lips… your cock,” you say sheepishly. “And doing this.”

He chuckles softly and runs his hands over your sides.

You feel wetness pool in your underwear as you continue to grind over him.

He tugs your underwear to the side and watches your wet cunt move against his thigh. He glides his thumb over your slit then runs his thumb over his tongue.

“Fuck, you taste good,” he smirks and you whimper into his neck.

Your movements become slackened as you get closer to the edge and Sunghoon notices. He grips your hips to give you some assistance.

“Are you close doll?” he smiles and bites down on his lip.

You nod. “Yes, fuck please don’t stop.”

You bury your face into his neck but he holds your head to get you to face him.

“Look at me princess, I wanna see your pretty face when you cum on my thigh.” he smirks and caresses your cheek.

He watches as your eyes shut, brows furrow, and mouth parts open. He could cum just from watching you fall apart in front of him.

Sunghoon rubs your back as you slump against him, winded from your orgasm.

“Look at the mess you made,” he says and you look down at the wet patch on his jeans.

Your cheeks heat up and you cuddle into him, too embarrassed to say anything.

You pull away and drop to the floor again. “I wanna try something.”

You unbutton his jeans and tug them down exposing the pale skin on his thighs. You lean forward and plant a kiss on him. A corner of his lips perks up as your mouth opens to softly slide your tongue against his skin.

He reaches down to pet your hair. “My pretty doll,”

You nod and look at him innocently before gently sucking a small blush on his inner thigh. You can see his hard on straining against his boxers as you continue to leave hickies on his thighs. You also notice how his breathing is getting heavy and how his cheeks are getting pink.

He pulls you into his arms and picks you up. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

He lays you gently on the mattress. You expect him to settle his hips between yours but instead he lays down on his stomach with his head between your legs.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“I just wanted to taste you sweetheart,” he kisses your thigh. “Is that alright?”

You nod excitedly and he smiles.

He pulls your underwear to the side before giving you one gentle lick up your slit. Your thighs shut right away, still jittery from your last orgasm but he pushes them open and holds them down with his lean arms.

You squirm under him and he bites your thigh. “Relax sweetheart, let me make you feel good.”

You nod and take a deep breath before he delves into your wet cunt. You feel him moan against you as he french kisses your clit. And soon enough, your legs are shaking and your back is arching off the bed.

You tug at his hair and you feel him smile a bit.

“Please don’t stop,” you whimper. “Feels so fucking good.”

But then he pulls away and you’re so mad you could punch him.

“Sunghoon-ah!” you scold him and he chuckles, lips glossy with your juices.

“What? I can’t have a little fun with you?” he jokes and you roll your eyes.

“I will become cellibate for a whole month if you keep this shit up.” you huff and he comes up to kiss you.

“No no baby, I’m sorry,” he gives you puppy eyes, something only you ever get to see. “Forgive me.”

You can’t help but smile a bit. “Are you really sorry?”

“Mhm,” he nods, his dark hair brushing against his eyelids.

“Fuck me then,” you tease and he smirks.

He tugs his t-shirt over his head and the golden light of his desk lamp is shining against his back, making it look like he’s glowing right in front of you. Like real life Apollo, even though he’s more of the Athena type.

“Whatcha staring at?” he asks quietly. “Am I that hot?”

You scoff and pull him down for a kiss. He softly rubs your thigh before asking: “Ready?”

You nod and pull at his waist, wanting him closer to you. He caresses your cheek before slowly sliding into you.

You bury your head into the crook of his neck to hide your moans but he pulls your face towards his.

He leans down and softly bites the skin on your throat. You whimper and run your fingers through his hair.

“Harder please,” you beg and he smirks. He holds your thighs and pushes your knees towards your chest before pounding into you. You squeal and grip onto the duvet, overwhelmed by how deep he is inside of you.

“Oh my god,” you whisper as his tip brushes against your g spot. You trail your fingers down to rub your clit and he smiles.

“Dirty girl,” he says and you look up at him.

His dark hair is hanging over you and the silver chain around his neck swings with every thrust. His stark features are cut clean and he looks evil and sexy as ever with that determined look on his face.

“Feels so good,” you choke out and he leans down to kiss your forehead.

“So pretty,” he says. “My sweet girl.”

“I- I can’t,” you say, starting to tear up. “It feels too good.”

He pets your hair. “Take it sweetheart, I know you can.”

“I can’t I can’t,” you whimper and he leans down to kiss you, slowing his pace to a delicious grind.

“Yes you can princess,” he says.

“Sunghoon-” you whine. “I’m close.”

He smirks. “Do you want me to go harder?” he asks and you nod eagerly.

“Please,” you say and he holds onto the headboard before snapping his hips into yours.

He holds tight onto your waist with his free hand as your back arches. Your eyes roll back as warm waves of pleasure wash over you.

“Good girl,” Sunghoon coos, “that’s it cum all over this cock.”

His thrusts slow don’t as he releases into you with a low grunt.

You giggle as he slumps on top of you, tired and a bit sweaty. After a few kisses he pulls out and watches his seed drip out of you.

He gets off the bed and picks you up bridal style. “Let’s go take a shower, and maybe we can have some fun there too.”

#sunghoon smut #enhypen smut #kpop smut

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thisissirius · 4 years

Text

spoilers for 4x04.

five people who love buck unconditionally and the one to whom love can’t describe everything buck is firefam + buck (buck/eddie)

. protection

“I wanted her to tell you.”

Buck’s tried being mad at Chim. He’s been mad at Maddie and his parents, Chim, Eddie. Everyone and everything, even when they didn’t deserve it. “I know.”

If Buck remembers anything from the past few days it’s this; Chim batting for him, a solid barrier doing his best to stand by his girlfriend and Buck all at once.

“Can I ask you a question?” At Chim’s nod, Buck stares at his hands. “How did it feel when—Albert arrived and you knew your father loved him in ways he never could you?”

It’s an unfair question and Buck knows it. Chims expression shifts into discomfort and then something that Buck doesn’t wanna name.

“I’m sorry. That’s not fair.”

“Hey, no,” Chim says, reaching over and taking Buck’s arm. “I’m not offended that you asked. I can’t imagine—okay maybe I can a bit. It’s not a great feeling. I felt unloved. So not so different.”

Buck smiles, but there’s no humour in it. “Yeah. It sucks.”

“Except,” Chim continues, catching Buck’s eye and holding it. “That I’m not unloved. And neither are you.”

.buckaroo

Hen keeps watching him.

It’s fair. Buck keeps scaring everyone; not that he means to. Maybe he’s just that fucked that things will keep happening to him. Buck hopes not. He’s not sure there’s much left of him to take.

“You can ask.”

Hen raises her eyebrows. “Ask what?”

Buck waves a hand. “Whatever it is you wanna ask.”

“Buckaroo,” Hen says, and that name hurts. He ducks his head, feels an invisible hand squeeze his heart. Hen touches his thigh, squeezes. “Is it the name?”

“My mom doesn’t like nicknames,” Buck says, looking away. “She’s never liked that I call myself Buck. Chim had to call himself Howard just because he didn’t wanna put them out!”

Hen nods. She doesn’t move her hand. “I heard. Do you like the nickname?”

Buck nods. “I wouldn’t tell people that’s my name otherwise. I just feel—if I let everyone call me Evan, maybe she’d look at me for once and—“

“Love you?” Hen asks, her voice quiet.

Throat tight, Buck doesn’t know how to answer. He nods, feels his eyes burn with tears.

Hen shifts, sits on the couch next to him. “You’re my Buckaroo.”

Buck cries then, feels like it’s bursting out of him and through it all, Hen holds him.

.parental

Going into Bobby’s office never means anything good, but Buck finds some measure of comfort in it this time as he knocks on the door.

“Buck,” Bobby says with a smile. “I thought your first shift back wasn’t until—“

“It’s not,” Buck says, dropping into the chair opposite Bobby. “I wanted to talk to you. Well you and Athena but I didn’t wanna just turn up on your doorstep—“

Bobby raises an eyebrow. “That’s never bothered you before.”

“I haven’t doubted myself so much more,” Buck says before he can stop himself. At Bobby’s expression, he wipes a hand over his face. “Sorry that wasn’t meant to come out.”

“I’m glad it did.” Bobby pulls out his phone and Buck freezes, holds out a hand to stop him calling. The last thing Buck needs is to worry Eddie some more.

“You can’t call—“

“I’m calling Athena,” Bobby explains, but he smiles, amused. “Should I call someone else?”

Buck flushes, stares out of the glass to where he knows Hen and Chim are somewhere. To where Eddie is. “No.”

“Hmm.” Thankfully Bobby doesn’t say anything else. Buck waits, not even sure what Bobby’s calling Athena for, when the phone rings.

“Hey Baby,” Athena says.

“I have company,” Bobby says quickly, and Buck’s glad because no. He doesn’t wanna think about that.

“Oh?”

“Hey Athena,” Buck says, waving a hand even though she can’t see.

A pause. “Buckaroo! Where have you been?”

“Uh,” Buck starts.

“Bobby and I haven’t disappeared and I know you know where I live.”

Buck finds himself smiling, dropping his head. “I do.”

“Then I expect you on Saturday, you hear me?”

“I can’t,” Buck says. Before she can object, he continues, “I’m having dinner with Eddie and Chris.”

Athena makes a noise that Bobby shares. Buck deliberately doesn’t think about it. “Friday then. No objections.”

Buck meets Bobby’s eyes and smiles. “I don’t have any. I’ll see you Friday.”

“You better.” Athena’s tone is softer when she adds, “we love you, Buck, you know that right?”

Bobby holds his eyes and Buck feels warmth blossom up through him.

“I know.”

And he does.

.united

Buck takes a deep breath and knocks on the door. It takes a while, but then Maddie’s pulling it open. She looks upset, tired, and Buck feels awful. “I’m sorry.”

Maddie’s face crumples and Buck pushes into the apartment, taking her into his arms even as he shuts the door.

“I’m so sorry,” he says again, kissing the top of her head. “I said united front and left.”

Maddie shakes her head, pulling back. “You had every right.”

“Maybe,” Buck allows. “But I should have talked to you instead of ghosting you. I know how that feels after all.”

There’s a hint of a smile on Maddie’s face as they sit down. Neither of them knows quite what to say, but Buck reaches out, takes Maddie’s hand in his.

“You were nine,” he says slowly, squeezing her fingers. “What they asked you to do—you didn’t do anything wrong.” It’s taken a long time for him to be aware of that; a long time and people talking to him, letting him get everything out. Buck’s learning his support network is bigger than he thought.

Maddie nods, pressing a hand to her mouth.

“You’ve always had my back. You left,” he says, but shakes his head when she tries to talk. “I don’t mean—you left because you had to and I won’t hold that against you. I wish you had come to me sooner but I know why you didn’t, why you were scared.”

Looking hopeful, Maddie says, “if I could have taken you with me.”

“I know.” Buck smiles, less sadness in him than he’s had since their parents showed up. “You’ve always done what’s best for me, Maddie. I believe that. I love you.”

Again, Maddie starts to cry. “I do love you,” she says, pushing forward. The hug is awkward but Buck hangs on, kisses Maddie’s head. “I love you so much.”

.the gift

The Diaz kitchen is a mess when Buck enters. “Is this the right house?”

“No!” Chris pokes his head around the door. “You’re early!”

Over Chris’ head, Eddie looks—Buck wants to laugh. He’s got flour on one cheek, mixture on the other, and his hair is slick with—is that milk?

“Eddie,” Buck says around a laugh. Then, to Chris, he says, “what’s this for?”

Chris looks at his dad, then back to Buck. “You were sad the other day. I heard you crying but Dad was helping.” Buck’s chest seizes. Oh god. He never meant— “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I don’t know why your parents didn’t get you birthday cakes, Bucky! I asked Dad to help me make one.”

Buck’s speechless. He looks up at Eddie, who’s smiling softly at Chris—and at Buck? Buck nods, reaches out for Chris’ shoulder. “That makes me really happy.”

“Good,” Chris says. “Because Dad says you have to show people you love them when they can’t hear it. Or don’t want to.”

Buck feels burning behind his eyes. How many times is he gonna cry this week? “Thanks, Christopher.”

His voice breaks, but he doesn’t have time to hide because Chris hugs him tightly. “I love you, Buck.”

Buck squeezes his eyes shut, breathes in Chris and says, “I love you too.”

Later, when they’re full of dinner and cake, Buck’s got a Diaz boy either side. Eddie’s been asleep for about a half hour, tipping closer to Buck with every movie scene. Chris is still wide awake, tucked under Buck’s arm.

“Did the cake make you happy?”

Buck smiles. “It did. Your dad can bake!”

“Abuela had to talk to him because he was going crazy!”

Buck can imagine it. Eddie flitting about the kitchen in a mood because he fails at anything oven related. “Well I’m glad she did.”

Chris laughs, hugs himself closer to Buck. “Were you sad because your parents are mean?”

Buck closes his eyes. To see the world through a child’s lens. “Yeah. They just—didn’t love me as much as your mom and dad loved you.”

Chris looks up at him and Buck hates that he’s gonna find out things that can hurt. Things like absence and disinterest. That he already has. “I can share Dad.”

“Chris,” Buck says, overcome., and kisses the top of his head. “You’re such a good kid, you know that?”

“Not always,” Chris complains, and Buck laughs.

“Most of the time.”

Eddie’s raised a good kid. Kindness that Eddie’s got buried deep, and despite his own parental issues, manages to bring his kid up that way. When he turns, Eddie’s looking at him. Buck’s stomach swoops. Eddie leans in, hugs Buck awkwardly. “We’ll talk when he’s in bed.”

It should be terrifying; Buck’s never liked those words, but while Eddie’s expression is intense, there’s more love and affection staring him in the face than he knows what to do with.

.mine

Buck feels calm despite what he knows is coming. Chris begs for a story from both of them, then Buck needs to leave the room. He tells them he needs the toilet but really he’s overwhelmed. Calm, but overwhelmed. Can you be both?

“Hey,” Eddie says, hovering in the doorway. “How was dinner with Bobby and Athena?”

Buck thinks back to the meal, to Bobby and Athena being themselves while still showing Buck he’s not alone. It’s a tough thing they’ve all decided to do, convincing Buck he’s loved. It’ll take time, but he doesn’t doubt them. He trusts them. “It was a lot. But I’m glad I went.”

Eddie nods, crosses the room to sit next to him. “And you? Any urge to punch things?”

Buck laughs, tips his head back against the couch. “No. Your advice was taken with enthusiasm.”

“Good.” Eddie’s quiet. He sits back, stares at his hands. “And you? What’s going on in that head?”

“Too much,” Buck admits. He sighs. “I feel better? Everyone’s being great. I know I’m loved.”

“But?”

Buck huffs. “Sometimes I hate that you know me so well.”

“No you don’t,” Eddie says, certain of himself.

Buck shakes his head, smiling. “No, I guess I don’t.” He looks at Eddie’s who’s staring back at him, closer than he was. “My whole life they’ve lied to me. Had me for one reason and then—forgot about me when I wasn’t what they wanted.”

“I know.”

“I just wanted them to love me,” Buck says.

“I know.”

They’ve had this conversation before and Buck hates that he’s still going over it, but he can’t make the thoughts stop. “How do I stop thinking about it?”

Eddie sighs, shifts closer so their arms are touching. “I don’t think you can. Maybe you try,” he amends. “But it’s always there, ready to take hold when you don’t want it to.”

“So what do I do?” Buck doesn’t know why he’s so desperate for Eddie to tell him.

“You deal with it,” Eddie says. “But you also give yourself other things; surround yourself with people who care, who love you. Find things you enjoy. Just—realise you’re more than your parents’ child.”

Buck nods, even though it’s hard to imagine he can ever do that. Eddie touches his face, bringing Buck’s head up.

“You’re so much more. The kindness you think I gave Chris? You have to know so much of it is from you as well. You have so much goodness in you, Buck, and I know it didn’t come from them. Which means it’s all you. Down to here.” Eddie presses a hand to his heart.

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Buck says, voice tight. “Sometimes I don’t know what I’m doing. Or who I am.”

“You’re Buck. A friend. A brother. An uncle,” Buck smiles. “A father.”

Buck freezes. “What?”

Eddie looks serious. “You’re everything I could hope for in anyone I choose to love, Buck. For Chris, I mean.” There’s a touch of red to Eddie’s face and ears. “If they could give him everything you give him, I’d be lucky.”

Buck swallows, suddenly nervous, and presses into Eddie’s hand against his cheek. “I’m messed up.”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. “But you’ve always been this,” he says, tapping Buck’s chest. “And I love you anyway.”

Oh. Buck hardly dares breathe. “I love you too.”

“The forever kind,” Eddie admits quietly. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

“Okay,” Buck says. “Because I’d really like not to be alone.”

“Never,” Eddie promises.

Buck wonders later why they didn’t kiss, but in the moment, as Eddie holds him, nose nestled in his curls, everything feels as it should.

Right, for the first time—ever.

#buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #Eddie diaz #otp: i forgive you #fic by me

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slutsofren · 4 years

Text

surrender the night

*this is a companion piece to my series, Danger Days, but can be read as a standalone

summary: you and joel have been together for a while, no longer worrying about fireflies or about ellie, the three of you became pretty close-knit out on the road and now in jackson but joel is usually closed off with you today until he wants to show you how much he loves you while hunkering down from the rain.

cw: no y/n, intimate/soft smut, mild bratty reader, slight angst, light humor/teasing, established relationship and life in jackson, joel being emotional AND vulnerable, SARAH MENTION that needs a whole TW i swear

word count: 3,884

a/n: congrats to pedro on this role and welcome new fans to tlou!! <spoilers> tlou2 isnt entirely canon in my version bc our man survives abby and her bullshit so we can all be happy here; but check out my series following the first tlou game with slow burn and other fun tropes here on ao3!

read on ao3 here!

Bandit attacks were on the rise again, always spiking before winter starts and at the tail end of it. You had been pulling nearly nonstop shifts at the wall and scouting nearby. Joel noticed how tired you were getting and tried to convince Tommy and Maria to give you less time on rotation. You thanked him heavily for it but if there was one thing you were good at, it was keeping those you loved safe.

The rifle was heavy in your hands, your thighs warmed by your signature dual handguns there, you were armed to the brim but it did nothing considering the visibility was poor. It was raining on and off since the two of you began your shift but as you neared the small town, it had gotten heavier as you got closer to the last stop on the scouting trail.

Beside you, Joel had been quiet nearly the entire time since the two of you left Jackson and each time you tried to ask him if he was okay, he shrugged you off. It wasn’t unusual for the man, he was a rather private person despite the many many months the two of you had been together.

The one thing that warned you something was wrong was a conversation the two of you had only last night. For the first time ever, Joel spoke of a memory between him and Sarah, the daughter he lost over twenty years ago, of how she would banter with him and keep him on his toes. He smiled while telling you a couple stories of her but fell into a tense silence afterwards that seeped well into today and you figure his silence has to do with it.

Your horses came to a stop in the garage of the safehouse as the two of you jumped down. “I’ll shut it,” you offered quietly as you lowered the garage door to keep the horses safe and warm away from the harsh chill of the winds and rain. Joel gave a grunt of confirmation and he opened the inside door to enter the house, shaking his head a bit to rid his hair of some of the dampness.

As the garage door shuttered gently to the ground, you turned to follow Joel up to the third floor of the safehouse and gave a firm pat against your horse as you walked by. Joel had already begun turning on the small lamps that were sparsely laid around the stairwell to make sure you didn’t trip. This was one of the few three story homes that were still viable despite how broken everything was inside. The walls still had some insulation but the dust and debris were stark reminders of everything that had been lost since the cordyceps virus took the world by storm.

When you reached the landing, your stomach was in knots, Joel’s behavior wasn’t unusual per say but he was rarely like this with you on scout missions, often being more in the moment with you than his usual reserved self. Being outside of Jackson, the two of you had to communicate in order to stay alive, everybody did. It was the only means to survival but his behavior was beginning to worry you more and more.

You removed the rifle from your shoulder then leaned against the doorframe of the master bedroom, watching as Joel signed in both your names on the sheet on the desk that had been pulled in the room. He sighed heavily and turned to face you, “I don’t think we’ll make it back to Jackson anytime soon with the rain.”

“You’re probably right.” You pushed off from the doorframe and shrugged off your backpack, reaching for the long-range radio. You shifted it in your hands before clicking it on.

“Base, this is Athena’s Mark, please be advised we are hunkering down at the last checkpoint. Rain is too heavy to travel. Over.”

After a couple moments passed, you heard the tell-tale sign of a response with static then a click before Maria’s voice rang out. “Athena’s Mark, your message has been received. Notify Base if there’s any sightings out there. Stay safe you two, over and out.”

You looked up from the radio in your hands and saw Joel leaning against the desk with his arms wrapped in front of his chest. He looked at you and you gave him a soft smile before fully entering the room and setting your weapons and backpack down beside the large bed that was still in rather good condition all these years later and sitting on it.

“Y’know you never told me why your code name was Athena’s Mark,” he asked from behind you, watching as you began to unlace your boots.

You smiled as you recalled the memories. “When I was still running with the Fireflies I would sneak over to the Humanities department and steal some of the abandoned books from the offices. One of the rooms belonged to a Greek historian and I found their book on mythology,” you explained without looking up. “By the time I arrived in Jackson, I still had a few of those books in my possession. One day Maria and I got drunk and she called me Athena as a joke but the name stuck with me on missions.”

You laid the unlaced boots on the floor and laid down in the bed, listening to the rain patter against the roof and windows, drowning out all the outside noise. “She said I looked like a goddess of war when I had blood on me, fighting to protect Jackson.” You threw a hand behind your head and stared at the ceiling before continuing. “If the world hadn’t gone to shit, I’d like to think that’s what I would have done with my life. Become a historian or something.”

“I think I would have liked to see you like that,” Joel said in his gruff voice. You smiled at his words.

“What would you have done?”

“I was a carpenter, and even wanted to start my own business. Work was shit to come by but it paid the bills.”

You smiled, remembering all of his wood carvings in the spare bedroom of his house. “If bills weren’t an issue back then, what would you have wanted to do,” you prompted instead.

“I wanted to be a singer but with Sarah and all,” he trails off. You remembered him admitting this once, forever ago but now the candor feels different because he said her name.

Sarah.

You sit up from the bed and look at him, the broad strong man he is, looks like he’s a million miles away. His eyes are unfocused and his face looks conflicted. You get up and take tentative steps towards your boyfriend. “Joel?”

He looks up at you and unfurls his arms from his chest, instead opening them up at you. You walk to him a bit more confidently and walk straight into his embrace as he wraps his arms around your frame. He buries his face into the crook of your neck while you encompass him and rest one of your hands on the nape of his neck, your fingers gently dancing in his dark hair.

“I love you,” he says, his voice hoarse and thick with emotion. His arms wrap around you tighter, pulling you closer into him. “I think she would have liked you.”

You try to pull back a little to look into his eyes but his grip only tightens around you, refusing to let you budge. “I think I would have liked her too, Joel.”

For a man of few words, the ones he spoke have taken your heart by storm. The two of you have been together for a while but the intimacy between you has rarely been like this.

He stays like this for a few more minutes, composing himself. You play with his hair with one hand and the other draws random circles across his back. Silently telling him you’re there for him. After these moments pass, Joel pulls his head back from the crook of your neck to start leaving a trail of kisses there, his beard leaves a scratchy but familiar burn across your skin.

Without using words, he’s telling you how much he loves you, how much he cares, how much it pains him when you’re not together, and you bask in it. “Joel,” you whine as his kisses suddenly shift to small sucks and bites on the sensitive skin on your neck.

“Come here,” he demands slowly, finally bringing his lips to yours.

As the two of you kiss, he tangles his fingers in your hair, his other hand kneading the flesh on your ass. Joel has you melting in his hands as your worries fade. You figure today was rough on him and you’re more than happy running away from the anxiety.

The two of you do this dance with each other's lips until he pushes off the desk, advancing to his full height towering over you. He doesn’t let you break the kiss instead he presses harder into you deepening it.

The more he wordlessly asks, the more you feel like you’re drowning in him, his scent, his touch.

Joel places both of his hands on your hips as he pushes you backwards, walking you to the bed. The backs of your knees hit it and you stumble a little but his sturdy warm hands keep you from falling down. He breaks the deep kiss the two of you were sharing, both just slightly out of breath but heavily disheveled. A shuddering intake of breath and he leans his forehead on yours, his eyes closed. “Will you have me?”

“Yes,” you sigh against him. “Please.”

Just as you slightly beg, any worried thoughts you had were whisked away as he removed your denim jacket from your body. His large calloused hands worked their way back up to your head, his fingers getting tangled in your hair, gently pulling you back so your neck was exposed.

He gently laid kisses up and down your jaw, taking sweet time and care with you.

Your hands drifted up his torso, unbuttoning his soaked red and black flannel. Once the last button popped, you moved your hands across the expanse of his chest, pushing both his flannel and brown coat off him.

A deep groan rises from Joel’s throat, “Easy now.”

He takes a step back and fingers at the hem of your shirt, pulling it off your body. You rush a little and put your hands behind your back, undoing your bra. Joel watches you silently as you discard the article to the side of the bed where your shirt lay on the floor with his.

His hands return to your body, working themselves at your jeans and he pulls them down, gently easing your leg out of each pant leg. He’s being so gentle with you, being so vulnerable and soft.

You stand in front of him as he remains kneeling in front of you, still in the position he was when he removed your jeans. He leans forward and rests his head on your stomach and you feel his breath over your panties.

“May I,” he asks, fiddling with the elastic waistband.

Your fingers catch in his hair as he pulls back, looking you in the eye when you grant him permission, “Yes.”

His eyes study you as he tentatively pulls your panties down, letting them fall. He comes back against your skin, kissing from the tops of your thighs and makes his way upwards across your stomach, between the valley of your breast, your chest, and neck, before finally coming back and kissing you on the lips.

“Get on the bed for me, will you?”

“Uh-huh,” you mumble, lost in this tender moment with your lover.

Naked and kneeling on the bed, Joel fixes his stare on you, taking his time to unbutton his belt then jeans. His eyes trail over your body, watching as you begin to squirm under his watch.

He pushes forward and kneels on the bed before maneuvering himself to lean back against the headrest. He grabs your leg to swing over his thighs to make you straddle him but his hands stay at your waist, keeping you from fully sitting on his clothed cock by giving attention to your breasts, licking and biting gently as he did with your neck not moments before.

“You’re breathtaking.”

A giggle leaves you at his words aligned with feeling overstimulated by the way his mouth and beard felt on your skin. “Joel, please.”

“Settle down, you heathen,” he says between nips and kisses. You feel him smile across your skin as he pulls you down onto the sheets, coming back to your lips to kiss you more and more. His hands encompass your body, roaming up and down the valleys on your skin, completely enamored with you.

“Make me,” you tease against his lips.

Joel takes this as a challenge and he sits up, leaving you prone against the pillows. He towers over you, his thick fingers dancing gently across your skin, making a winding trail down your body. “Please,” you begged softly.

Joel said nothing as he sank two of his rough fingers into you and laid down between your thighs to suck and lick at your clit. Your hands flew to his shaggy black hair, taking a sharp inhale at the sensations. Joel eats you out nervously, taking pride in the way you moan to the walls of the empty house. Your sharp intakes of breath get lost under the patter of rain against the roof and windows.

“I love you,” he says against your heat. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

Your breath is already stolen away at the way he fucks you with his mouth and fingers but you’re breathless by the way he admits his love for you. The vulnerability of it makes you come against his tongue.

“That’s my girl, that’s it.”

His approval and praise send you soaring but he doesn’t slow down his efforts, instead going faster. Before you could even come down from the blissful high of an orgasm, another tidal wave is rising again. “Joel, I’m coming again,” you whine.

“Come as many times as you want,”

He leaves another trail of kisses across your stomach as he makes his way back to kiss you on your lips. You can feel your wetness on him, taste yourself on his tongue and you moan into him.

“Lay down, let me treat you,” you say in a low voice as you try to push Joel against the bed. He leans up and puts his hands on your wrists, stopping you.

“No, tonight is about you.”

“Wha-,” he cuts you off with another opened mouth kiss on your lips, he keeps kissing you down your neck to your left arm, not stopping until he’s kissing your hand.

“Have I ever told you how pretty you are,” he whispers against your palm. “The first time I saw you, I fell for you. You had your gun pointed right at me, coulda killed me.”

“I’m glad I didn’t.”

He huffs, hot breath hitting your hand. “I sure as hell am too.”

He drops your hand and shifts on the bed, removing the last piece of cloth covering his erect cock, “I think I woulda let you toss my ass around that first day I laid eyes on you, if I’d known then what I know now.”

“You almost didn’t let me go with you, remember,” you tease.

“Would’ve been the biggest regret of my damn life, sweetheart.” He drops his boxers to the floor, not taking his eyes off you.

“Tell me again, Joel.”

He line’s himself up with you, “I’m glad I found you.” He gently thrusts only the head of his cock into you and pulls out. “I’m glad you never put up with my bullshit.” He repeats his movements but pushes a little more into your wet cunt. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.” Finally he pushes himself all the way in, eliciting a sharp whine from you. “Fuck, I’m so lucky.”

Your lover pushes back your thighs, allowing him to fuck you deeply. His movements stir that insatiable beast inside you, constantly lingering for more and more pleasure.

He sinks harder and faster into you as his warm hands grasp your hips, his eyes trained on the way your soaked pusst takes him so deeply. He’s locked on the sight of the way the two of you are connected just as how you are mesmerized by watching him.

“Do you feel as good as I do, darlin’?”

You respond by squeezing around his cock, “You feel so good in me.”

It was like he got a second wind by the way he fucks you even harder than before. You throw your head back as you feel the familiar rumble in your abdomen and you squeeze your legs around him, not allowing him to pull out further. Joel surprises you by using two fingers to rub tight circles against your clit.

You bite down on your lip to try and contain the coming moan but fail. He feels too good in you, on top of you. His scent invades your mind bringing you to the ultimate climax. Your head is tossed back and a throaty loud moan is released into the air by you.

“Joeljoeljoel,” you plead, coming again against him, your legs spread so far to allow him to penetrate you deeper. Your orgasm rolls through you like waves and your body lifts in response, searching for more, more, more.

He continues to pound harshly into you, not swaying in pace. “You’re so beautiful when you come around me, feels heavenly too,” he moans above you. The hand he had tangled in your hair moves to your jaw, his thumb caressing your bottom lip as you sigh, coming down from your high.

Joel’s thrusts soon turn erratic and sloppy as he chases his own high, you hear a deep growl rise from his throat. “Fuck, shit,” he breathes, pulling out of you swiftly, pouring himself over your stomach.

You reach up and thread your fingers in his hair, pulling him up for a kiss. You praise, “Good boy.”

Vulnerable, Joel laughs and sits up on his knees to look down at you. Basking in your afterglow with remnants of his love smeared across the expanse of your stomach that reflected in the soft glow from the lamps and setting sun. He fingers his own hair with both hands, sweeping his messy locks back.

He gives you an indecipherable look that he hides by shifting off the bed and rummaging through his backpack insearch of a rag to clean you with. He returns and does his usual routine while you lie on the bed, feeling warm and safe.

He returns to the bed and you crawl on top of him, seeking to add his warmth to yours to fight away the rainy chill. His arms wrap around your back, holding you close. Refusing to let you move away.

Together, the both of you came down from your blissful highs, your breaths synchronizing into calm and slow inhales and exhales. You laid your head on his shoulder, dancing your fingers along his chest drawing nonsensical designs. The two of you laid like that for a while, you listened as his headbeat fluctuated from steady to rapid and back as if he was working himself up. Just before you open your mouth to ask if he was alright, he took a sharp inhale.

“I’ve been thinkin’,” he starts.

“Oh, no. Nothing good comes from you thinking,” you laugh, hoping to ease his mind.

Joel squeezes your hip and pulls you closer, “Hey now, none of that shit.” You laugh a little more at teasing him before he takes another sharp inhale as he continues. “As I was sayin’, I know this isn’t conventional, hell, none of this is conventional,” he gestures wildly in the air, “but I was wonderin’ if you’d do me some kind of honor and make me your husband.”

This knocks the breath out of you, more than the wonderful dick down he just gave you. You lean up and face him, trying to make eye contact but his stubbornness doesn’t let him take his gaze off of the ceiling.

“Joel, are you serious,” you ask.

He furrows his brow before letting go of your body and getting up from the bed. You’re about to start protesting when you see him reach for his own backpack and pull out a wooden box before he sits back on the bed and stares at it hard.

“Y’know I was married before. Back then. I never wanted to do it again, especially not in this world. But then I met you. That shit don’t compare to how much I love your ass. You’re smart, you keep this old man in check, and most of all,” he looks at you, “we don’t get to take life for granted any more. Not when every time we leave Jackson could mean we don’t make it back alive. I want to marry you in every meaningful way, even if you are a goddamn brat.”

As he says this, your eyes fill with tears and you sit up on the bed, facing him. “Is that why you’ve been so quiet today?”

He nods once, “What? You make me fuckin’ nervous.”

You smile wide and lay your hands on his, over the box. “I love you, Joel Miller, you stubborn old bastard. Now gimme the damn ring”

Joel lets out a sharp laugh at your words and lets a smile hang on his lips. He opens the box and hands it to you where you see a beautiful silver ring with a delicate floral design. A gasp leaves you as you take it in, how intricate and ornate it looks.

“Talked to the blacksmith and got it made for you especially,” he explains.

You take the ring from the box to admire it closer before Joel takes it from you and places it on your ring finger. “You had Gustavo make this for me?”

“I told him your favorite flowers and he did the rest.”

You’re too stunned to speak by his admission. He knew of your love and attachments to the old blacksmith which made this ring that much more beautiful in your eyes. You pull the elegant ring out of the box, treating it like it’s fragile before placing it on your finger.

“I’ve been wanting to marry you since you saved my damn life,” he admits. “But it wasn’t until last night when I told you about Sarah without feeling angry or sad when I knew it was time.”

His confession wells tears in your eyes again, his long since passed daughter was always a subject the two of you danced around, even his ex-wife. Him talking about this, about Sarah, it means he’s nearly ready to open up and it means the world to you.

“Does this mean I finally get to teach Ellie how to throw knives now?”

“Absolutely not, what the fuck?”

#joel (the last of us)#joel miller x reader #joel the last of us #joel miller #the last of us x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller / reader #joel tlou #joel tlou x reader insert #asher's writing #surrender the night #danger days fic

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neonponders · 3 years

Text

💗🍑✨

Watered my plants today so here’s a drabble: ftm!Steve and gardener!Billy

Read on ao3 ~

Mrs. H wants a rose garden. They actually used to have roses in the flower beds in front of the house, but life got in the way and they were replaced with plants that could handle themselves, for the most part.

Thing is, Steve loves flowers. He stopped letting himself indulge in them because it was hard enough being “man enough,” but his friendship with Robin (and saving the world a few times) puts things into a new perspective.

He deserves to pursue his interests. And goodness knows, anything other people have tried to push on him haven’t worked apart from always make him looking like a fool.

So he gets a bunch of roses in little green “trainer” pots and gets to work during one of the last winter days where it’s cold in the air but hot under the sun. Steve plants peppermint (red and white striped) roses in the front flower beds, and red ones around one side of the pool; the side of the yard that slopes down and around to the front of the house, so the right angle from the street can see them. He even gets a fine mulch to blanket the new beds and goes to the quarry for free rocks to frame it all in.

Then a gardener shows up. His mom hired a freaking gardener.

Admittedly, Steve could have reacted better than, “Who the hell are you?”

But also, who arrives on their first day of work and says, “Wrong mulch, pretty boy.”

Steve had climbed out of the rose bed and faced the young and muscular guy, who blinked and his face flickered with something that Steve had seen dozens of times. The uncertainty between Steve’s height and his mother’s eyes and cheekbones. The movement of eyes analyzing the width of his shoulders and hips between a waistline he had worked damn hard on to be rectangular instead of hour-glass shaped.

“What’s wrong with the mulch?” Steve bit out as he planted his hands on his hips. He couldn’t say why he had the habit; some traumatized mixture of hiding his hips and making him look wider. Stronger. Deserving of the space he held.

“There was a recall from that brand. A whole vat of pesticide fell into it. It’s too toxic for flowering or fruiting plants.”

Steve could hear Robin’s voice in his head. If a man explains something to me one more time, I’m going to start frothing at the mouth.

God, Steve loved her. She helped him see all the micro-aggressions men did to him because they mentally catalogued Steve as the wrong gender. It helped him realize how bad he was at reading people and why he’d made the wrong “friends” up until now.

“How was I supposed to know that?” he retorted grumpily.

The gardener - with his stupid face already golden in the winter, and a stupid curl falling over his forehead like he styled it for landscaping or something - smiled. “Get a rake, peach. We’ll replace it by lunchtime.”

Peach? Steve fumed.

So...yeah. Not the best start.

Even worse, this guy named Billy really fed into the pet name. Greeted him with, “Hey, peaches,” all the time, and went inside to use the bathroom only to bring out sliced peaches and yogurt.

“It’s finally getting hot out. Sugar’s good for you.”

Steve hated him. He hated him for calling him Peach, and he hated him for putting salt on his fruit ever since Steve stomped inside and corrected the stupid snack the way he liked it.

And then Steve’s own red rose bloomed. He despised the irony but there it was. Robin helped him despise it less and less. Her own tactics for dealing with cramps, food cravings, and headaches really saved him; and just having the company made him feel less like a fish in the wrong ocean.

It came early, though, and it was a doozy.

Steve and Billy were only weeding the beds with occasional pruning of the branches, but eventually Steve just had to lie down. He’d started bleeding that morning, but in less than twenty minutes his abdomen was swollen and he felt the cramps all the way down his inner thighs to his feet.

The grass was cool underneath his cheek. Being horizontal helped the headache but not everything else -

“Hey, Peach. Sit up a little. I got you something.”

“Fluff off.”

Billy...didn’t laugh. Steve heard him huff through his nose and drape a towel or something over him before setting something on the grass. “Don’t knock it over.”

Steve opened his eyes and saw a glass of water and a glorious little pill on a toilet paper square. Steve gulped it down as fast as he could and settled once more...underneath Billy’s jacket. He supposed it was still a little cold in the morning shade.

When he could, he folded the jacket and set it on the poolside concrete before going inside to get himself more water, a little coffee, and to, you know, check -

He’d bled through his jeans.

Like the weight of water crashing over his head, Steve wilted in the bathroom. It wasn’t a big stain, but Billy had to know, right? Steve tried to remember where exactly he’d placed his jacket on top of Steve. Was it to keep him warm, higher up on his shoulder? Or lower, to give him the courtesy of privacy?

Steve wasn’t a coward. And he sure as hell wasn’t going another day with this gardener treating him like-like...

Like what?

Robin would skin him alive for not wanting to be treated like a girl. What does that even mean, Steve? Treated with respect? Treated like a person? What does it mean to be treated like a man, then? Who is devalued here?

Steve sighed and yanked on fresh underwear and jeans. Why was gender so hard? He knew he was Steve, and Robin liked to tell him he over-simplified things - which was a hell of a nicer way of saying he shined less than other bulbs - but he couldn’t deal with the wondering or the tip-toeing around this incredibly masculine and pretty and annoying gardener.

Billy was down the slope in the side-yard. Steve didn’t know why he was planting a sapling, of all things. His mother never said anything about wanting a tree, but he ignored that and barked, “I need to talk to you.”

“I’m listening,” he said without turning around. Steve fumed as soil got patted down around the base of the tree.

“We need to talk about my – me. We need to talk about me.”

“Are you feeling better?” Billy stood and went to the wheelbarrow of mulch.

This was too frustrating. Steve came right out with. “Do you know? Like – because my name is Steve. But I’m not sure you get it – ”

“I get it. Steve.”

Billy finally looked at him and used the shears from his belt to clip off the large tag fluttering on the branch of the tree. “It’s you who doesn’t get it.”

He pushed the tag against the front of Steve’s shirt. The latter now had a prop to syphon his frustration into. He waved the tag around as he exploded, “What do you – You don’t get to know me better than – ”

“Romance really flies right by you.”

And.

Well.

Whatever lake or ocean Steve flailed in, he sure gaped out of water now.

Billy stepped up to him, making Steve shut his trap and swallow a wet sound. He purred in between them, “This is the part where you read the tag.”

Steve really hated being a slower reader. He felt like every second was a month as he read the tag, and then flipped it over…

Peach trees have had romantic significance in many cultures for centuries. In mythology, Paris of Troy granted a golden peach to Aphrodite in competition with Hera and Athena, thereby crowning her the most beautiful. In return, Aphrodite promised him the most beautiful person in the world, Helen of Sparta.

Their fruit symbolizes unrivaled happiness, as nothing compares to the taste of a peach. In the language of flowers, peach blossoms have come to mean infatuation, or captured love.

Steve blinked at that for a long second and then found an extremely convenient little info-graphic that his brain absorbed more easily:

Peach: your qualities and charms are unequaled.

Blossoms: I am your captive.

“Um,” he fumbled, because his brain was dangerously close to asking, Are you Paris or Helen in this?

“I’ve seen how you look at me.”

Steve’s head jerked up. “No you haven’t!”

Billy, that bastard, grinned. “Yes, I have. I know you like me. You wouldn’t be so mean to me otherwise.”

“I’m mean because you deserve it,” Steve growled, but he wasn’t doing well at putting distance between them. Good god, the man had freckles on his nose and cheeks.

Billy pinched the front of Steve’s shirt. “I know what else I deserve,” and pulled a light little moan out of Steve when he captured his lips.

Billy’s lips were soft, and his hand was a little sweaty where it came to hold the side of Steve’s neck and jaw. Steve couldn’t help but say against Billy’s breath, “You don’t mind?”

“ ‘Course I don’t mind,” Billy murmured almost angrily. “It’s not the 1880s.”

“You just relied on a plant to tell me you like me. That’s pretty sappy-Victorian-show-trope to me.”

“I had to get creative. You’re already surrounded by roses every time I see you.”

Steve giggled breathily in the little space between them. Something in his body moved like a trapeze artist when the pink tip of Billy’s tongue moved inside his mouth, from one side of his bottom lip to the other.

“Roses? Too old school for me,” Steve teased.

“Good. Any more old school and it’d be awkward for me to keep doing this.”

Steve may or may not have gotten sunburnt from kissing too long.

Billy somehow found peach-scented sunscreen.

Steve also may or may not have thrown the bottle at him.

#harringrove #ftm!steve #gardener!billy #ficlet #pondermoniums #neonponders #i've never written a ftm character before #so i hope it's okay #🥺

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evanoracronwell · 3 years

Text

You've got us.

Read on ao3

Buck took a deep breath as soon as Athena had left with Bobby. He tried to suppress the avalanche of feelings that had been trying to escape him since the moment Maddie had told him about Daniel. Twenty-nine years living in a giant, cruel lie. Now, at least he knew why his parents had never been able to love him. At least now, he understood why he had never felt good enough. It's because he never had been.

A few steps away, he saw Eddie approaching him while he removed his helmet and gloves and threw them in the back of the ambulance right next to Buck.

"I know what you're going to say. I was reckless, stupid, and could have died. I know that I just..."

Any other word died on his lips because Eddie held his face with both hands with such care and affection that Buck felt his throat close; no one had ever looked at him that way, as if he were hanging the moon, as if Eddie was afraid that he was going to disappear before his eyes.

"Never again, did you hear me? Never again do you dare to pull something like that on me. Damn it, Buck, I almost died thinking something might have happened to you."

His voice was hoarse and choked as if he was trying very hard not to burst into tears right there, and Buck wanted to say something, claim that he was fine and that nothing had happened, but then Eddie came closer, standing between Buck's legs, his body so close to Buck's, that he could feel his heartbeat through his uniform. As if that weren't enough, Eddie touched his forehead to Buck's, mixing their breath. There was nothing Buck could do but raise his hands to Eddie's waist, pulling him even closer.

"I'm truly sorry,” he murmured, watching as Eddie closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Buck followed in his footsteps, closing his eyes and concentrating only on Eddie's breathing, on the feeling of their bodies so close together, on how Eddie slid one of his hands up to the nape of his neck, pulling his hair so softly that Buck could barely feel it, but strong enough to give him the feeling of being terrified.

"Just promise me you will never do something like that again."

"Eddie, you know I can't..."

"No!” He looked away and opened his eyes, staring at Buck with determination. "I don't care that this is the job. You can't put yourself in danger like that, do you understand me? What the hell am I going to say to Christopher if something happens to you? That boy loves you, Buck; you're too important to him."

"I know, but Eddie I..."

"What about me? Damn Buck, what the fuck am I supposed to do if something happens to you? Have you ever stopped to think about that? I know you always put other people above yourself, that you always want to save everyone and you don't care to put your life on the line to do it, but... think of me, okay? If you want to put others above yourself so badly, then put me and Chris first. Every time you decide to risk yourself like this, think first about what it would do to us. "

"Eddie, I'm so sorry... you're right. I didn't think what it would do to you and Chris. Honestly, I didn't think it could affect you so much."

"How could you not know, Buck? How can you not know how important you are to us? Buck, I...” he took a deep breath again and then took Buck's face in his hands one more, making the blonde look at him directly in the eyes. "If anything happened to you, I would completely lose my mind; do you understand that? I would die, Buck, okay? You are everything and... you can't... never... okay? You can't leave me."

"I won't,” he says as firmly as he can, his blue eyes are already wet with tears and his voice breaking slightly. But he holds Eddie around the waist again and pulls him even closer than before, hugging him tightly as he sinks his face against his neck, breathing in the smell that is so unmistakably Eddie even under the smell of all the smoke.

"Please Buck, I know there's something going on inside your head. Please talk to me; it kills me to see you like this."

"I wasn’t enough, Eddie,” he grumbles against Eddie's neck, feeling like he just wants to hug him even tighter, and stroking the back of his neck. "They had me as a baby savior, but I couldn't save Daniel... I wasn't enough, and they hated me for it."

"Hey, no. Buck, you can't blame yourself for that, do you hear me? Your parents had no right to put that weight on you, much less the right to walk away from you after Daniel died. That's on them, Buck, not you. "

"Maybe. But they were also right, weren't they? I always do everything wrong, Eddie; I was a handful to Bobby when I walked into the fire department, always being irresponsible and reckless. I wasn't there when Maddie needed me, I... Eddie, I lost Christopher; you trusted me, and I... I lost him. "

"No, Buck!”Eddie moved away again, just enough to look into Buck's eyes, but close enough to still keep him in his arms. "You are an excellent firefighter, and Bobby couldn't have anyone better than you at 118. You took care of Maddie and protected her ever since she came to LA; you were there, Buck, every step of the way you stood beside her. And Chris... Jesus, Buck, you need to stop blaming yourself for this. You never lost him, Buck, a tsunami happened and you did everything to make sure he was safe, nothing that happened was your fault. "

"Yeah maybe, but I..."

"God, you have no idea how much I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. Maybe that way you would see the wonderful man you are. You care about everyone, you are loving and caring, you are always willing to help and reach out to anyone who needs it. "

Eddie smiled tenderly and ran his fingertips over Buck's face, wiping away the tears that were starting to trickle down the blonde's cheek.

"You are the man who spends his nights off playing video games with my son or watching cartoon movies; you help him with his homework and read about the subjects he’s interested in so you can talk to him about them later. You play lego with him on my living room floor, read bedtime stories to him, and make pancakes for breakfast because you know he loves them and that I can’t keep from burning them. You’re the man who assures me that I’m an excellent father every time I doubt myself, the guy who helped me build a skateboard so my son can feel like any other child. You are... something, Buck. You are unique. You are special. "

"Eddie..."

"And above it all, Buck, you are enough. You are more than enough for Christopher, and you are more than enough for me. Maybe your parents can't see it, but then, it's their fault, it's their loss. I just need you to know that you're not alone, Chris and I are here; you've got us, ‘cause we're not going anywhere, but I need you to stay too, okay? I need you to promise me you won't go anywhere either, Buck, because I wouldn't know how to survive if you did. "

"I promise."

"Do you mean that?"

"Yes, I promise, Eddie. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

"Good, because I love you, Buck; I'm completely in love with you and I can't lose you, do you understand?"

Buck was going to answer, he really was going to say something, because, honestly, he had a million things to say in that moment. He wanted to say that he was also completely in love with Eddie, he wanted to say that he couldn't lose him either and that just the thought of something like that happening had left Buck awake for several nights. He wanted to say that when he had seen Eddie buried under all that mud, not knowing if they were going to get him back alive, that at that moment Buck had almost died, that for a few minutes he’d had to imagine his whole life without Eddie and that he would rather die than face that future. He wanted to say that he loved Christopher so deeply that it scared him sometimes, that he would give his life for that boy. There were a million things he wanted to say; but how could he say anything when Eddie pressed his lips against Buck's so firmly and so smoothly at the same time? How could he speak any words when he was being kissed by the man he loved with all his heart and soul? There he was, living a moment that he had lived countless times in his dreams, but that he had never thought he would be able to experience in reality.

And it was beautiful, it was intense, it was passionate and it tasted like a bright future. It was not the scene he had dreamed of; it didn’t have the romantic atmosphere of a candlelight dinner and music playing in the background. What they had were sirens and voices echoing everywhere, and the smell of smoke and the fumes of whatever product came from that factory.

It was messy and sloppy and perfect, and Buck wouldn't change a thing.

"Come home with me," Eddie murmured against his lips. Home. That sounded good.

When they were finally released from their shift, Eddie drove through the streets of Los Angeles holding Buck's hand against his thigh, refusing to stop touching him even for a second, as if he needed a guarantee that Buck was there, alive, beside him. And Buck would never deny Eddie's touch.

Entering Eddie's house brought a warm feeling to his chest; here he felt welcome and at home... but then again, home always seemed to be wherever Eddie and Chris were.

"We need to clean up," Eddie whispered as he took Buck's hand and led him to the bathroom. There was nothing sexual about the way they slowly undressed each other, nor the way they got under the shower, washing away any traces of soot and dirt from their skins. Eddie hugged him under the jet of hot water, his hands running down Buck's back, stroking him tenderly. He kissed Buck's hair, his forehead, his birthmark, his cheek, his nose, his lips. The second kiss was even better than the first, and the third better than the second.

They kissed without the slightest hurry, only concerned with savoring the taste of one another exploring every inch of each other's mouths, memorizing every second; because now they can.

And later, when they were both lying on the bed in nothing but their underwear, Buck curled up in Eddie's arms, feeling calm and welcomed in the warmth of Eddie's skin and the feeling of his breath against his neck. The darkness in the room seemed perfect at that moment, and Buck was lost in the rhythmic beating of Eddie's heart against his back.

"Eddie?"

"Yes, cariño?"

"I love you, too."

He was finally home.

#buddie #buddie fanfic #buddie fic #buck x eddie #evan buck buckley #evan buckley #eddie diaz #edmundo diaz #Episode: s04e05 Buck Begins #buck begins #911 fox #911 fic #that's what should had happened #buck deserves better #buck deserves the world #i never know how to tag these

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yandearest · 4 years

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May The Odds Be Ever in Your Favor (Hoseok x Reader Hunger Games AU) Chapter 2: Training Day

Summary - Living in District 4 you never thought you would have to worry about being selected for the Hunger Games. With a training centre right near the dock of the houseboat you lived and fished from, your district was known for volunteers who trained their whole lives for a shot at glory and riches. But at age 18, your name is called and no girls volunteer to take your place. Your devastation is answered when Kim Namjoon volunteers for the males shortly after. Tall, muscular, highly intelligent and charming, the years of diligent preparation have bestowed Namjoon with the expectation of being the next District 4 champion after Finnick Odair last won 3 years ago.

Fishing for a living has granted you skills with a knife but, as your mentor Finnick is quick to describe, your beautiful face may well be your best asset.

Upon arrival in the Capitol you are quickly faced with the reality that Namjoon may not even be the biggest danger inside the Arena. Especially when you capture the obsessive attention of District 2′s own volunteer, and killing machine, Jung Hoseok. Hope soon fades from ‘survival’ to ‘the mercy of a painless death’ but Hoseok certainly has other plans.

Pairing - Hoseok x (fem)Reader

Genre - thriller, angst, yandere

Word Count 7.2K

Warnings - [in later chapters] major character death, graphic depictions of violence, swearing, obsession, dubcon-smut (smut will be marked so reading is optional), gore, unrealistically beautiful oc because I’m a sucker for that shitty trope and want to live vicariously through my writing (sue me)

The following is a dark fic featuring a yandere character, violence, obsession, and coercion. By no means does writing about this in a fictional setting condone any of those behaviours, much like Stephen King writing horror doesn’t mean he approves of psychotic killers in reality. Please avoid reading if any of these warnings makes you uncomfortable.

Previous Chapter: 1

Cross posted on A03 so people can subscribe for updates/notifications

Training began the following morning at 10am, although when you woke for breakfast at 8 Namjoon was nowhere to be found in your living quarters. Finnick informed you that Namjoon had left to begin early as you elected for a bowl of cereal instead of the array of foods presented on the dining table. To anyone else the spread of pancakes, syrup, pastries, bagels, bacon, eggs, sausages and other delicacies you weren’t even familiar with would have appeared mouth watering. But in your state it all just looked like cardboard. You didn’t trust yourself to be able to keep anything down but knew you had to at least eat something so you wouldn’t pass out later.

You tried to make the most of the one on one time with Finnick, listening as he talked about the range of stations that would be inside the gym. For the most part he seemed to suggest being a shadow to the rest of the careers, “play along and act dumb so they think you trust them and are too stupid to make plans for yourself”. Your best bet of survival relied entirely on them underestimating you and you being able to correctly time when to stab them in the back (literally) before they disposed of you.

Once you finished barely eating, you dressed in the capitol provided athletic wear; a fitted black T shirt with decorative panels of silver and gold along the sides and the number 4 emblazoned on your sleeves, along with a pair of just-below-knee-length black leggings that also featured the same silver and gold design as a strip on the sides. After tightly lacing up your sneakers, and tying your hair into a high ponytail, you took the elevator from the floor of your living quarter down to the basement where the gym was located.

You had no idea what you were expecting, perhaps something similar to the warehouse gym back in 4, but the spacious room that you arrived in was definitely not it. To start with, despite being under ground beneath an apartment complex, it looked like it could easily fit at least five warehouses inside the space. There were so many stations set up you wondered how it would be humanly possible to even attempt all of them within your three-day time limit. There were more weapons here than you had ever seen in your entire life combined; what appeared to be a parkour racing course, a rope climb, fire making equipment, a knotting station, something that looked like a paint set up, a tablet with symbols (what use that was supposed to bring you had no idea) and many other things you weren’t sure of. A large digital clock was mounted in the middle of the wall at the back, near a rock climbing wall, displaying the time as 9:45AM. You tried to swallow down your nerves as you scanned across the room looking for Namjoon. You found him easily at the weight section, bench pressing a large barbell you didn’t care enough to read the weight on. It seemed like a pretty basic scare tactic of trying to intimidate the other districts with his strength, but it didn’t have any impact on you because you were already aware.

“What’s muscles over there trying to prove?” a sudden voice at your side caused you to start, whipping your head to see Krystal next to you. She didn’t quite smile but there was an amused look to her eyes and a little quirk to the corner of her mouth.

“Holy shit please don’t sneak up on me like that in the arena, I will literally die of a heart attack” you exhaled with an awkward laugh at the end.

“Wouldn’t be the most painful way to die in there,” Krystal retorted with a shrug. She looked different compared to last night, but you supposed you could say the same for everyone if you compared them in an elaborate costumer to their gym wear. Her sleek black hair had been braided into two French plaits down the back of her head and secured into twin buns on the bottom.

“Touché,” you agreed but quickly moved to shift the topic away from you dying. “To answer your question Namjoon’s probably trying to intimidate some kids into thinking he’s going to bench press them to death.”

Krystal gave an amused hum before gesturing towards her fellow district mate Yoongi who was lazily sitting against the wall nearby. Training hadn’t even started yet and he looked like he’d much rather be asleep. It was hard to think of him as the confidently spoken cape wearing tribute from yesterday when he was now slumped against a wall. If anything he looked quite adorable.

“We just got here, have you seen 2?”

“No, I just got here myself, Namjoon came early to get extra training in”

You looked around the warehouse again trying to spot a familiar head of copper hair or Athena’s cropped blonde pixie cut but couldn’t see either of them for now.

“If he wants to wear himself out before we even get into the arena that’s his business, but if he pulls a muscle or drops a barbell on his head, I’m not carrying him,” Krystal muttered as Namjoon grunted lifting his weights up a final time before slamming them back on the rack.

“Agreed.” You murmured whilst Namjoon finally spotted you were here and nodded towards you and District 1 in recognition, before walking over. Krystal and yourself both gave half hearted waves in reply, Yoongi looked like he had actually fallen asleep and didn’t do anything.

“Hey,” Namjoon greeted wiping his forehead on his shirt sleeve and taking a drink from his water bottle. As much as you had made light of his workout before the fact he was barely out of breath after lifting more than twice your body weight was pretty intimidating. “Have you seen 2 yet?” You were about to tell him what you had just told Krystal when a raspy voice spoke from behind you

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear.”

Turning around you saw Hoseok and Athena walking out from where the elevators were nearby. Athena looked almost unrecognizable in comparison to her warrior outfit and smoky make up from the night before. Her short hair was pushed back with a headband and her face much rounder. She was definitely shorter without her heeled shoes and her body type much curvier than what her costume showed. Whilst Athena, Yoongi and Krystal all looked softer without their costumes and make up Hoseok somehow still managed to radiate the same aura from the tribute parade. His form fitting T-shirt and pants (in the same design as everyone else’s) accentuate his lithe build. The tights he wore showcase the definition of his calves and thighs, along with how long his legs were. The definition of his abs could be seen through the black shirt and his biceps were on display. It appeared he didn’t need any bronzing powder or contouring make-up to sharpen his facial features; his high nose and cheekbones were still just as prominent and his jawline just as sharp. He ran a hand through his hair, which was disheveled from not being styled, but somehow still managed to look good anyway.

When you make the mistake of looking into his eyes you can see that there was definitely no make up involved in the intensity of his stare from yesterday, it’s still just as unnerving this morning. The corner of his lip pulls up into a smirk as he sees you assessing his appearance and he has no shame running his eyes over your body.

“Nice of you to show up,” Namjoon grunted, clearly not impressed with the way Hoseok was staring at you again.

“Relax we’ve still got five minutes until we’re officially mean to start” Athena said as she stops beside Namjoon. She strikes up a conversation to try and distract him like Hoseok had told her to do. Why exactly she was following his instructions she didn’t really know, but she didn’t particularly care to upset him at this point so she simply played along. Namjoon was easy enough to engage, all she did was ask him what he had been doing to work up a sweat and he immediately leapt into a description of the circuit he had been training.

Hoseok moved to take the spot between Athena and yourself.

“Morning love,” he whispered under his breath, touching your elbow gently and leaning down slightly in a way that’s only intended for you to hear. You shudder at the feeling of his warm breath ghosting against the shell of your ear and curse your body for it’s unconscious reaction.

He pulls his hand away just as quickly, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention, but wishes he could maintain some form of physical contact. ‘There’ll be plenty of time for that in the arena,’ Hoseok assures himself watching as your cheeks flush that same rose color they did last night. He can’t explain why, but something so simple as your blush makes him feel ecstatic. Oh the things he would do to you to see what else makes you flush that pretty color for him again.

“Hey,” you reply, trying not to break the eye contact out of fear it could be taken as a sign of weakness. He’s tall so you need to look up, but you’re not that short either so it’s not a high angle. You’d estimate the top of your head reaching around his nose if you had to guess.

“I’ve been dying to ask this since seeing you yesterday, but what is an angel like you doing at these games?” his voice is still low, but not as quiet as before, as Namjoon continues to elaborate on his morning work out whilst Athena pretends to care.

“Uh same reason nearly everyone else here is, my name got pulled out the bowl,” you tried to casually respond with a shrug but knew the devastation would have been showing in your eyes. There were some things you just weren’t capable of hiding, and your fear at your situation and imminent death was one of those things. “And you?”

Hoseok frowns and you wonder if you somehow said something wrong but then he softly shakes his head.

“Volunteer,” he states and you swallow with a nod, unconsciously shifting backwards a little. His very appearance is lethal so it really shouldn’t be a surprise at all that he’s signed himself up to slaughter people like you, just the same way Namjoon had.

“Right, I mean you’re a career,” you shrug again looking across at Krystal, Athena, and Yoongi, wondering if they were volunteers too.

“Hey,” his hand was back on your elbow again, he didn’t give a shit if the others saw him. The feelings he was already experiencing towards you had just been intensified immeasurably by the fact you were innocent in these games. He didn’t know how to possibly describe it; all he knew was that from all the words that existed, in all of the languages in the history of mankind, there would never be a way to explain it.

He saw the tremble in your body whenever he looked at you, the shudder earlier when his breath met your ear, surely you had to feel something towards him too. There was no possible way that these emotions he was experiencing could be contained in just one body, you had to be sharing this experience. Was this a ‘soulmate’ that he had only read of before in passing regarding outdated literature? He had never been the kind to believe in fate before, as far as he had trained his whole life to believe, his only destiny was to win the games and bring honor to his family. But as you stood before him, for only the second time in his life, he just knew that you had been preordained for him.

At his age of eighteen he had experienced love in some capacity before, his parents, his sister, a few close friends and a couple of girlfriends here and there but none of those emotional connections compared to you. Surely you would feel the same way about him too, but of course as the poor reaped tribute that you were, you were too afraid to be able to focus on him right now. He was furious you were even here, how dare none of the other female trainees from 4 volunteer to save your precious existence. How cruel the forces of the universe were, for gifting him with an angel only for her to be so close yet still so out of reach. These intense emotions were far too much for one person to ever experience alone, so somehow he must be possessing part of your emotions for him, because you weren’t capable of focusing on anything more than survival right now. His poor defenseless angel, how much you needed him right now.

That must be it. A trial from beyond these games where he would have to earn not just this victory but a way to make you experience your love. There had to be a reason why you were here, it’s because it was for him to prove himself worthy of you. Oh how he wishes you could have met outside, after his victory tour when he went to 4 and he could just pick you from the crowd and make you his. But that would’ve been too simple. Yes, a love like this only came once in a lifetime, he was certain, and he would need to move heaven and earth to somehow save himself and you. But there had to be a reason that the universe had put you together right at this very moment. There had to be a way for him to save you both, and he knew he would kill anyone and everyone who got in his way.

“I promised you last night, I won’t hurt you, and I meant it,” he said, squeezing your elbow – not tight enough to hurt – as if trying to implore you to believe him. His hand felt warm and his hold was firm, shooting a tingling sensation down your spine. You tried to suppress the physical affect his touch was having on you, knowing nothing good could possibly come out of any attraction. You hated just how strongly your body was reacting to him, wondering why the hell he was trying to flirt before he would inevitably try to kill you, and why your body was liking it. But even though you were a tribute, ultimately you were still only human.

“Hoseok, you literally volunteered to kill me, it’s fine,” you began as a small voice internally added ‘well it’s not fine really but that’s besides the point’. A look you couldn’t read flashed in Hoseok’s eyes and he opened his mouth to say something, but you continued on before he could speak.

“I’ve seen enough of these games to know how the career pack works. I’ll help you guys and when it comes down to the end I’ll just try as hard as I can. There’s only one winner and look at you,” your eyes were on his torso because you couldn’t bring yourself to maintain the eye contact as you spoke. The outline of his pectorals and abs that were visible through the fabric of his shirt, compared to your barely toned figure in comparison, did all the speaking in that regard anyway. Looking down at his grip on your elbow, you could see how the fingers on his large hand nearly wrapped all the way around your arm. His own biceps would easily be twice the size of yours.

“Look at Namjoon,” you subtly gestured to your much larger district-mate, “and then look at me.” You weren’t exactly unfit, all the years of physical labor from working on your family’s boat had helped give you some muscle definition, but it was nothing compared to a trained killer.

“You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not lyi-”

Hoseok’s objection was cut off by an announcement coming from the other side of the room. It was now 10 am and everyone had to attend a briefing in regards to how training worked. Hoseok scowled at the interruption before quickly dropping your arm to avoid suspicion from the others.

“This isn’t over,” he whispered, as you followed with the others to where a dark skinned woman stood in the center of the room. She introduced herself as Atala and ran through the basics of how the next three days would work. Her commentary about dehydration and infection being as much of a danger in the arena as the weapons was particularly interesting to, you wondered if Namjoon had spent as much time on his survival skills as he did on his fighting in the old warehouse back at 4. You doubted it. You also noticed a window on the wall that your back had been facing when you entered the room, where a room of mostly men in suits with eccentric beards and wild colored hair styles were sitting on lounges. Atala introduced them as the game makers who were here to observe, sending a shiver of disgust throughout your body.

Before being allowed to focus on the stations of your choice there was a tribute wide assessment on four of the obstacles: Monkey bars, a fire making station, a memory game (which explained what that strange tablet thing was) and a one on one physical combat match with a Capital trainer. The monkey bars were first and tributes were to perform in the order of their district numbers. You were mildly surprised by how Yoongi went from appearing lethargic to swinging across the bars with ease, but as a career it wasn’t entirely unexpected. Krystal and Athena both had no trouble and Hoseok flew across the rungs twice as fast as the others. You swallowed a nervous lump in your throat when your turn came, feeling the pressure of being in a career district and having all eyes focused on you. Upper body strength had never been your strong point, and you knew the furthest you would probably be able to get was around the half way mark. The girl from 3 had struggled and fallen off nearly immediately but you still didn’t want to fail, especially not with Namjoon breathing down your neck behind you. Back at home you had needed to climb around the boat before in order to make repairs, which suddenly gave you an idea.

Jumping up to reach the bar, you used the momentum to swing your legs through and up onto the next bar in front. Hooking your ankles under you pulled your legs through the gap until you were hanging by your knees. With your weight now more evenly distributed you were able to pull yourself up and awkwardly climb over so you were then on top of the bars. From there you tried not to look down at the long fall onto the thin mat below and crawled your way to the other end before lowering yourself back down when you reached the other side.

“Unconventional, but effective” the person who was responsible for measuring the times and taking notes muttered as they scribbled down something on their clipboard.

“Not bad, spaghetti arms” Athena nodded her approval, her own arm muscles were probably close to the same size as Yoongi’s.

“Gotta know your own strengths and weaknesses,” you smiled back with a shrug. Your time was much slower than the others – Namjoon racing across the other side in a speed to rival Hoseok, right after you were done – but it was still better than not even being able to complete the course at all.

The other assessments were pretty much non eventful with predictable results. You performed decently in comparison to other reaped tributes but were definitely lacking compared to the rest of the careers. You could also detect a bit of rivalry beginning to brew between Namjoon and Hoseok as they tried to one up the other. Hoseok was the faster of the two to light a fire but Namjoon was quicker in being able to solve the memory puzzle. Both of them landed ‘lethal blow’ scores against the capital trainer in their sparring match (you had managed to land a simulated hit of the heel of your hand to the capital trainer’s nose which had counted as an ‘incapacitated blow’ – not a bad score).

With the mandatory grading over you were then given individual feedback along with suggestions on recommended training stations before breaking for lunch. After all the exercise you couldn’t help but feel much hungrier than you had before during breakfast, and helped yourself to a sandwich, along with an apple and a bottle of water from the provided catering. The feedback had been handed out on a card, in order of the district number, before you were dismissed for lunch, and you didn’t pay attention to where 1 and 2 had walked off to. Wanting to be alone anyway you walked around a corridor into an empty hallway and took a seat on the floor against the wall. Leaning back, you raised your knees and rested your elbows on your legs as you scanned across your feedback card. You noted there weren’t any grades or scores, but merely recordings of the time it took for you to complete the activity and a short written assessment next to each. At the bottom were the suggestions for which areas to focus on over the remaining days.

Your evaluation had described you as ‘a dark horse’. The Capital had picked up on the career’s alliance and noted that you were the physically weakest of the six members, however they gave you commendation for unconventional problem solving during the monkey bars. The primary suggestion was focusing on weapons based training in order to stand a chance of survival when the time came for the careers to turn against one another. There was also a suggestion to train more on agility based exercises that played to your existing skills, rather that bothering with weights or physical strength stations that would be impossible to build in such a short time.

“How did you go?”

The sudden voice and presence at your side, whilst you were intently focused on reading your card, caused you to jump and nearly swallow your last mouthful of sandwich down the wrong way. You managed to just catch it with an awkward choke, reaching for your bottle of water to swallow it down properly. To your absolute humiliation, you looked up to see Hoseok standing above you with an amused look on his face.

“Uh, fine I guess,” you muttered, fiddling with the card in your hand as he sat down beside you. “You?”

“As expected,” was all he replied with. You nodded awkwardly. You had seen him perform before you in all of the tasks and sail through each of them with ease. ‘As expected,’ meant nothing less than perfection for him. You couldn’t help but wonder if your death was going to be by his hand, and if that would just be ‘as expected’ for him as well.

“Let me see your card.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words were caught in your throat (much like your previous mouthful of sandwich) as Hoseok easily pinched your card out from your fingertips and passed you his along the carpet in return. Frowning, you picked his up, to at least pretend it was a mutual exchange.

“Did you swap cards with the others?” you asked, wondering why he was interested in your report. You skim read across his, finding commentary about Hoseok’s speed, skill and lethality, along with a note stating him as a lead contender, nothing that you weren’t already aware of.

“Nope,” Hoseok dismissed, lips pursed as he read your card much slower.

You frowned at this, passing his card across the floor and reaching over to try and grab yours back, only for Hoseok to lazily lean to the side away from you, with a hint of an amused smile. You let an annoyed huff of air out.

“So why are you reading mine then?”

At this Hoseok paused to raise an eyebrow and make eye contact with you over the top of your card in his hands.

“Because I don’t care about the others.”

He found the stunned look of confusion on your face to be absolutely adorable.

“But…” you paused, not even knowing what to say. Shouldn’t he at least care for his own district mate? Granted you didn’t care much for Namjoon but you were at least somewhat going along with him for the sake of presenting a cohesive alliance. And if he didn’t care about the alliance then what was he doing here with you? The implication of his statement was quite clear that he somehow cared about you, so what had you possibly done to warrant his apparent attention.

“Why?” was all you could eventually ask.

He lowered your card to the floor and slid it back towards you, leaning across with it. You predictably reached to pick your card back up and he instantly took the opportunity to put his hand over yours. You flinched and attempted to pull back, but his grip only tightened, forcing your hand to remain below his much larger one.

Your pulse began to rapidly accelerate. You knew he couldn’t harm you, not until you were in the arena. But to be alone and so easily caught and toyed with, by someone much more powerful than you, was frightening. You looked up from his hand to his handsome face, trying not to tremble as Hoseok stared back with a lazy smirk in place. The thumb on his hand over yours was softly stroking the skin around your wrist and you could swear your heart was pounding so fast he had to be able to feel your erratic pulse.

“Because I need you to be with me at the end.” His husky voice was a low murmur, as he leaned in closer again. Your hand remained clasped tightly below his

“So you can have an easy kill, because I’m weaker than the others?” you frown, knowing your assessment would have told him as much. But Hoseok was quick with a denial.

“No.”

“Then why?” You pushed, growing frustrated with his indirect answers and your hand still trapped in his. Hoseok only tilted his head to the side and released a sigh, looking highly amused.

“Don’t you trust me? You know I’ve promised not to hurt you darling,” his low voice grew quieter still, barely above a whisper, causing you to lean in so you could hear him better.

“Darling?” You balked at the endearment. Whatever answer you could possibly imagine coming out of Hoseok, it definitely wasn’t that. “Hoseok I don’t know what kind of game your playi-”

“You’re not a game to me.” He cut you off before you could even finish your sentence. Undeterred you rushed to speak again.

“But we’re literally in The Hunger Games and one of us is going to have to kill the other. And you and I both know how much easier it would be for you to kill me, than the other way around.”

“Oh so you find the thought of killing me unbearable?”

He quirked his eyebrow with a smirk and again you tried to yank your hand back in annoyance, but he only moved his grip further up to clasp tightly around your wrist. His long fingers easily wrapped all the way around, as he then pulled your arm back towards him, causing your upper body to lean further forward. Unconsciously you let out a breathless whimper in shock, your faces now so close you could feel his breath fanning across the side of your cheek.

“I… I don’t even know how I can kill anybody. You’re the volunteer here and clearly the better fighter between us so you would easily kill me in a final two,” you whispered, trying to turn your head away from his, only for the side of your face to press against the wall.

“Oh but darling you’re wrong, to kill you would be to kill myself.”

The hand that wasn’t pinning your wrist to the ground moved to cradle the side of your face, his fingers threading into your hair and thumb running along the top of your cheekbone.

“Hoseok, stop.” You raised your free hand to push against his chest, but he was solid as a rock and didn’t even budge. Instead he only curled his torso in towards you, pinning you in place against his body and the wall. You whimpered in fear, eyes scanning the hallway trying to find a way out, only for Hoseok to press his nose against your temple and lips to the shell of your ear.

“You may not even know it yourself but I can feel it in your pulse how your heart calls for me. Every beat I feel beneath my fingertip sings to my own, that already belongs to you. If you were to die, my heart would have no need to beat without the one it beats for.”

His deep voice was a seductive purr as his breath against your ear sent a shiver throughout your entire body. His hold on your face forced you to look back into his eyes once more, which held the same intense passion you had seen in them last night.

“How c-can you even say something like that, it hasn’t even been a day s-since we met?” you choked as you felt tears beginning to sting in your eyes.

“Because I felt it the second I laid my eyes on you, and seeing you again this morning only made me feel a hundred times stronger.

“Please stop, I’m going to be dead in a week so can you please just not turn my life into some sick joke,” it was all you could do to beg as the first tear spilled from the corner of your eye, his thumb below easily wiping it away.

“I’m. Not. Joking,” he hissed, each word punctuated by his fingers burying into your hair and clenching tightly at the roots, causing you to gasp as more tears spilled out.

“You’re hurting me,” you whimpered, the hand on his chest reaching up to try and pull at his hand that was holding onto a fist full of your hair. His grip instantly released, his hand moving to grab onto yours and thread his fingers in between your own, before squeezing tightly.

“Not as much as you hurt me whenever you try to deny me,” he retorted, pulling your hand to his lips to place a kiss upon the back.

“What do I possibly gain from a game perspective to choose you as my final partner? You said it yourself that you’re the weakest so that means I’ll need to protect you from the other four when the alliance turns. And believe me princess, I will. I’ll slaughter every one of them in cold blood. I’ll snap the neck of anyone who so much as harms a single hair upon your head. I’m going to kill them all for you baby, and I’ll make you watch so you can see just far how far I’ll go for you.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” you whispered brokenly, tears spilling freely from your eyes now.

“Because,” Hoseok dropped your hand to grab ahold of your chin as his lips moved in closer. When he spoke you could feel them brushing against yours “you’re mine.”

But before Hoseok could firmly press his lips to yours in the kiss he longed for, a sudden shout broke the atmosphere he had worked so hard to build.

“YN!”

You never thought you’d be relieved to hear the sound of Namjoon’s angry voice barking in your direction, but his appearance around the corner and into the hallway caused you to exhale a long breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

“What are you both doing here?” Namjoon growled, angrily striding towards you as Yoongi, Krystal, and Athena followed behind him.

Hoseok, who had his back turned to their direction, scowled in anger at the disruption, before quickly masking his face to a neutral expression. The sudden change in demeanour causing you to flinch.

“I found this one here having a bit of a breakdown over her report card,” Hoseok said, lazily getting to his feet and shooting you a wink as your jaw dropped in shock at his smooth and blatant lie.

“No! I- I…” You immediately went to protest only for the words to be caught in your throat. It would just be Hoseok’s word against your own. And who would believe you? His words were so insane you could barely even believe what he had just been saying.

“It’s ok YN,” he purred, as the others walked over towards you. You angrily got to your feet wiping your eyes, not wanting to be a crying mess on the floor in front of the whole group. “I was just telling her there’s no need to worry. First day freak outs can happen to the best of us.”

“I’m fine,” you scowled, crossing your arms and glaring at the floor and seeing the damned report card laying on the carpet.

“I just wanted some time to myself and if anything having someone around only made it worse” you bit back.

“Very well then,” Hoseok smirked raising his arms in a mock surrender gesture and waving his hands theatrically. “Excuse me for trying to be a good teammate.”

“I didn-” before you could rip into him, you were interrupted by another.

“Can you all give me one minute to talk to my district partner,” Namjoon grunted at the others. He didn’t bother waiting for an answer, grabbing a hold of the top of your arm and dragging you further back up the hallway. You didn’t know what was worse between him bossing you around since the train ride or Hoseok’s crazy confession, but what you did know was that if anyone else tried to manhandle you again you were going to take your chances on your own in the arena. It had only been one day and you were rapidly growing sick of this alliance. You’d rather die with dignity on your own than be dragged around like a dog’s chew toy.

“Let me go,” you hissed, when you were far away enough not to be overheard, grabbing his hand and ripping it off your arm. Namjoon just rolled his eyes before staring down at you from his tall height.

“What the fuck was that about?” he asked.

For a moment you breathed a sigh of relief. Trying to convince Athena or District 1 about Hoseok losing his mind would be one thing, but Namjoon was your own team mate. You vaguely knew each other from growing up in the same town. Maybe he might actually believe you. Glancing back to the others you saw them chatting amongst themselves, Krystal was now holding your report card and Yoongi gave a dismissive shrug to something Athena had just said. As if sensing your gaze, Hoseok glanced across to make eye contact. The corner of his lip curled up and he cocked his eyebrow smugly as if to say ‘go on and tell him, see if he believes you’. You scowled at him before turning back to Namjoon and grabbing a hold of his arm (missing the way Hoseok’s nose twitched in annoyance at you initiating the physical contact with another man).

“Namjoon, please, you have to believe me,” you began, instantly lowering your voice as you squeezed his bicep imploringly – your hand didn’t even wrap halfway around the much stronger boy’s arm.

“What happened?” he asked bluntly, eyebrows narrowing into a frown.

So you told him. Speaking as quietly as possible and trying to rush through the details as fast as you could, you hurriedly told him about how Hoseok had found you alone and stolen your card, before pinning you against the wall, claiming you were his, and threatening to kill all the others. You finished by telling him how it was only through the rest of the group showing up when they did, that had stopped Hoseok from kissing you.

“It was humiliating,” you hissed out, trying to choke down the lump in your throat that had built up as you were recalling what happened.

“I don’t want to be in the career pack anymore, I can’t do it, not with him.”

You looked up at Namjoon, begging him with your eyes to believe what you had just said.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

You dropped his arm and visibly recoiled as if his words had physically hit you. As far as you were concerned he may as well have.

“Some pretty boy spouts some Romeo and Juliet bullshit so you want to leave the best chance either of us have for surviving this thing? How can you actually be that stupid?!”

You were fuming. How dare he just dismiss what had happened to you like that. You had taken a leap of faith, hoping that as your own team mate he would believe you, and instead he had virtually spat in your face as a response.

“I’m not stupid Namjoon!” You sneered. “The one year my name gets called out is the one year no girls volunteer because they knew that you were going to. If the girls who have spent their whole lives training know they can’t beat you, how the fuck do you think I feel right now? Maybe it’s easier for you because you’ve actually got a chance in these games, but I’m going to die. And none of this is my choice, you actually chose to be here! You were the one who said on the train that you wanted us to join the career pack, so I did! And now I’m the one being harassed, not you! Stop treating me like a child because I’m not just a pawn you can tell what to do until you decide to kill me.”

“If you don’t want to be treated like a child then stop acting like a pathetic fool over the first boy to give you some attention. Do you think your pretty little face is somehow special enough for Hoseok to actually fall in love with at first sight?”

“Of course not!”

“You should be thanking me for pulling your head back in from whatever deluded little fantasy he’s trying to spin. Are you that stupid you can’t tell he’s just trying to divide us so you want to work with him instead of me by the time we get to the end game? At the very least you and I know each other and I guarantee you, in that arena it’s better the devil you know”

You wanted to point out how you were the one to tell him about Hoseok, and clearly were trying to work with Namjoon instead, only for him to berate you, but logic was out the window by this stage.

“Is it? Cause it sounds to me like you’re just keeping me around until you decide to break my neck when it’s convenient for you,” you snapped instead.

“That’s how alliances work sweetheart. You watch my back in the pack to make sure 1 or 2 don’t just slit my throat in my sleep. I drag your ungrateful ass around and make sure you aren’t taken out by some amateur who wouldn’t know the difference between a liver and an intestine. Is that how you want to die? Bleeding out for hours after being stabbed by an untrained idiot and spending your final moments in agony? Would you rather die by someone beating your head in with a rock because that’s the only weapon they know how to use? Let’s see how beautiful you are with your skull smashed in huh. Or do you want to go from starvation or hypothermia because you’re lost and all alone?”

You were absolutely stunned. He was expecting you to just follow him around the arena like a little puppy, where the only incentive for doing so would be his definition of a merciful death? Before you could tell him where he could shove his alliance, your argument was cut off by the approaching voice of Athena.

“I don’t know what kind of little lover’s quarrel you two have got going on here” you could swear you heard a warning growl from Hoseok “but get your shit together. We can’t have infighting in the alliance, especially before we even get into the arena. You,” a point at Namjoon, “stop treating her like shit. And you,” a point at you, “Stop looking like you’re about to cry. You’re a career for fuck sake, a cold blooded killer. Even though you’re obviously not, you at least need to look like one to scare off the other tributes otherwise you’re going to be the lowest hanging fruit they try and pick off first.”

You stared blankly back as Athena kept talking. The other tributes. You had been so preoccupied thinking about Hoseok and Namjoon’s cruelty, you hadn’t even considered your position without them. By now you were established as a career in the eyes of 18 other tributes, regardless of if you wanted to be one or not. From the past years of the games you knew that the other districts would take any opportunity they could to eliminate a career that somehow wound up on their own.

You were completely and utterly ruined no matter what direction you chose to go.

“Hoseok, Namjoon, you two are coming with me to the obstacle course run for a few hours. We need to do some teamwork after you two had your little dick measuring contest before in the graded courses. You two need to do something to make it look like you’re unified because right now because that’s something other tributes can exploit. Krystal, YN, and Yoongi will go to the rope tying station so YN can help us with knots and show off that she’s actually needed in our alliance to the others”

Namjoon nodded curtly whilst Hoseok clearly looked more annoyed at the idea of being split from you and having to work with the Namjoon. However, he quickly covered his expression and nodded as well. Athena gave each of them a shove on the shoulder to get them moving and they walked off out the hallway and back into the training compound.

You took a deep breath, grateful to have a break from either of their presence before looking between Yoongi and Krystal. They didn’t seem particularly interested in you, their sharp eyes and beautiful features were relaxed into a neutral expression that only suggested boredom. That was perfectly fine with you. As a fisherman’s daughter you were indeed well versed in knots and grateful for the reprise which would allow you to spend some time on something you were actually confident with.

“Alright, show me where the knotting station is”

Note: This story was originally a one shot in my mind and has now reached a planned 6 chapters. Aha. I suck.

Ideally I wanted the 'before the games' section to just be one chapter, but found it was starting to get too long after this reached over 7000 words and I still have the other training days, final assessment/grade out of 12 and the interviews with Caesar to cover (those will be in the next chapter, with the games starting in the update after)

The concept of the assessment came from the 1st movie where Atala (the woman who does that ‘in 2 weeks most of you will be dead’ speech in the training centre) mentions a mandatory assessment, so I just worked with an idea from that.

This chapter hopefully showcases more of Hoseok's Yandere nature along with establishing just how much or a horrible character Namjoon is (I swear I'll do a better fic of Namjoon as the lead soon).

#yandere hoseok #yandere bts #bts x reader #dark bts #dark jhope #y!hoseok #hoseok x reader #yandere bts fic #HUNGER GAMES AU #hoseok fic #hoseok au #hoseok x you #yandere jung hoseok #dark bts au #yandere

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maandags · 4 years

Note

Requests are open!!! *does an excited hoppy dance* oh my goodness the excitement. May I suggest a) something with Matt Holt, perhaps in an au with some sort of power (like a demigod or witch or ATLA au, etc.) or b) something for HTTYD with no pairing and plenty of dragon presence! Bonding/interacting with dragons, etc. Thankyouthankyouthankyou you are such an amazingly skilled author and making requests like this is a very special privilege. Thank you for sharing your writing :)

it’s Capture the Flag day at Camp Halfblood, and nobody lets you forget it.

of course, the nervous jitters get to you, as well. you’re not immune, even though you’ve never been a particular lover of the game. but it’s Camp tradition, and Camp Halfblood is your home, so you’ll fuck up your friends (and not-so-friends) every once in a while to keep things interesting. sure.

it’s Hephaestus, Demeter, Ares, Apollo -- that’s you -- against Athena, Aphrodite, Hermes, and Dionysus. you’re not worried about Dionysus’ kids -- their heart isn’t in the game, and it’s easy to tell. Athena and Hermes are the ones who will pose an actual problem, you suspect.

as you get ready, fingers making quick work of the straps on your breastplate, swinging your quiver over your shoulder (holding blunt-tipped arrows -- so they’ll still hurt like a bitch, but won’t do serious damage); strapping on your bracer, then pulling on your leather glove. you reach for your helmet, fighting the urge to roll your eyes at the red plume sticking out of it. it’s tradition, Y/N.

“you think you’re gonna win today, L/N?”

you squint up at the boy decked out in full Capture the Flag regalia, a sword at his side and a knife strapped to his thigh, brown hair mussed and glasses slightly askew on his nose. “half your team aren’t fighters, Matt. not like you and I am.” you lean back, cross your arms. “let’s just say I’m not disliking my chances, here.”

Matt shakes his head with a grin. “we’re going to crush you.”

“HOLT!” both of you whip around to the source of the voice -- it belongs to a tall Hermes kid, one of the only campers older than Matt and you, standing with his hands on his hips, glaring intensely at his teammate. “stop fraternizing with the enemy!”

Matt snickers, then bows. “well. I guess duty calls. I’ll see you after we win the game.”

“you’re so full of shit.”

“I love you, too.”

as he turns, you shout after him, “I’ve got an arrow with your name on it, Holt!”

the team captains convene -- Matt’s sister Pidge, on one side, and an Ares kid named Tyler on yours. the flags are hidden, everyone moves to their side of the creek. as you walk, Tyler and Keith, a Hephaestus kid, go through the battle plan one more time. you’ve heard it countless times before, so you listen with one ear.

Tyler points to you. “Y/N, up in the trees. slow ‘em down as much as you can.”

“always, boss.”

“don’t get distracted by brown-haired sons of Athena,” Keith quips with a grin.

without missing a beat, you reply, “as long as you don’t get distracted by blue-eyed sons of Aphrodite, fuckwad.” Keith goes red and shoves his middle finger in your face, so you respond in kind.

“guys,” Tyler says, sounding both annoyed and tired and resigned, “focus, please.”

some obscene gestures and mouthed insults later, you’re stationed up in your tree, standing on a sturdy branch, bow at the ready, an arrow nocked. (special arrows. Keith helped out with this; you’ve got some stinkbombs, some explosive arrows, some sticky ones... they’re nasty. you can’t wait to use them.) you’ve tied yourself to the tree by your waist, having made the mistake of not doing so in the past and paying the price with bruises and cuts.

the horn sounds. the game’s begun.

border duty isn’t the most exciting part of the game. if you were a close-range fighter, you would have killed to be in the scouting group, or the flag-capturing group. but you’re not, so a spot up in the trees it is.

after a couple minutes, you spot the group of campers charged with capturing the actual flag leap over the creek like cheetahs, splitting up into two groups immediately after crossing over into the other side. despite everything, your heart rate speeds up, just a bit. your grip on the nocked arrow tightens.

then, out of the depths of the forest in front of you, three campers race towards your side of the creek. trying to go fast, while also being quiet. heh. not if you have anything to say about it.

you bring your bow up to your face and aim, loosing it almost immediately. elegantly. effortlessly, as Matt would say. it sinks into the earth in front of the nearest camper with a dull thud, and a split second later it explodes, sending dirt and loose branches and leaves everywhere.

before the three campers can do anything to react, you’ve let loose another arrow. this one, when it explodes, poofs out a cloud of thick red smoke, which rises high above the treetops. could just as well have been a flare. stealth mission? not so much.

but you’ve given yourself away, now. not that it matters much, now. worth it.

“FUCK YOU, Y/N!” that’s Lance. son of Aphrodite, one of the few who is actually invested in the game. (a little too invested, in your opinion.)

you blow him a kiss, send him a wave. “I love you, too!”

Lance yanks his fellow campers up, shakes his fist up at you. “you play dirty!”

“I’ve been here for eleven years, Lance. I deserve to play a little dirty.”

at that, Lance laughs. you narrow your eyes. “eleven years, huh?” he grins. “still can’t recognise a simple distraction?”

“what are you –” you cut yourself off, cursing, whirling around, only just managing to spot a head of brown hair zipping through the trees.

before you realise you’re doing it, you’ve already drawn another arrow. this time, as you pull it back, you breathe out, relaxing, concentrating on the tiny shifts of movement you can still see through the trees. behind you, Lance is still shouting – “he’s gone, Y/N, we’ve outsmarted you, just admit it, you’re gonna lose –” but you drown him out.

you let the arrow fly, and a whole second later there’s the unmistakable “augh!” of someone who just ate shit. (tangling arrow: its impact triggers the uncoiling of a spool of iron thread, hopelessly tangling the target’s legs.)

you throw Lance a glance over your shoulder. he throws up his hand. “for the GODS’ SAKES, Y/N.”

“do not,” you say, lips curling into a grin when you spot your group of flag-catchers, three strong, approaching from the other side of the river, the silver Athena banner rippling between them, “underestimate a child of Apollo.”

Keith and Tyler are being chased by a growing group of blue-plumed campers, but you know it’s no use; those two are fast bastards. for the fun of it, you send another exploding arrow towards the pursuers’ ankles. the dull pop! and consequent yelps make you grin.

Keith takes a final leap over the creek and skids to a halt on the other side. the banner shifts in his hand, from silver to blood-red.

he holds it above his head, and you let out a loud whoop before sticking two fingers in your mouth and letting out an insanely loud, piercing whistle.

the game is over. you’ve won.

you descend from your tree, dropping the last five feet to the ground, shaking your head at the mob of campers who’ve hoisted Keith and Tyler upon their shoulders and are jumping up and down. you cross your arms.

“fucking eh. I really thought we had you this time.”

an arm drapes itself around your shoulders, and you grin, shooting a glance up at your boyfriend. “I told you I had an arrow with your name on it.”

“you did. I’ll outrun you eventually.” Matt dips down, presses a kiss to your cheek.

“pfft. good luck with that. you almost fooled me this time, though,” you add, poking his side. “almost.” you look down at his red-streaked legs. his knees are also scraped and slightly bloody, but his eyes are twinkling with mirth. “sorry about your ankles.”

he sighs. “yeah. I think I’ll need someone to carry me back to camp.”

you shake your head again with a chuckle, leaning your head on his shoulder. “you’re so full of shit.”

#gaaaaa #THANK U ANON U R THE SWEETEST!!!!#SORRY FOR THE WAIT! I HOPE U ARE STILL HERE AND WILL READ THIS!! LMK IF U DO!#request #vld request #matt holt x reader

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sinsbymanka · 4 years

Photo

This is a double whammy entry from me for @wickedwitchofthewilds Kinktober 2020 Prompts and @scharoux‘s @cozy-autumn-prompts. The prompts are “Quickie” for Kinktober and “Ripe for the Harvest” for Cozy Autumn Prompts. Thank you loves for running the event!

I’m gifting this work to my dear friend @tuffypelly whose Athena Adaar stars!

I’m also submitting this for @dadrunkwriting this week!

Title: As You Wish Pairing: Female Adaar/Blackwall, Female Inquisitor/Blackwall Rating: E Content Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Oral Sex, Rope Bondage, Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Semi-Public Sex, Sub Blackwall (Dragon Age), Blackwall (Dragon Age) Spoilers

Read on AO3

Thom never let her take care of him.

Athena Adaar understood why, to an extent, he was like this. He’d spent so much of the past several years atoning for his sins trying to be the man he thought the world needed the most. A hero, a Warden. Of course it translated outside of the battlefield and bled into their personal life.

She was his lady, and he wanted to serve. His pleasure was always secondary, always unimportant. He only wanted to bring her crashing to the edge again and again, clawing at his shoulders and chanting his name to the Maker.

But this time… this time, she would take care of him.

Athena tightened the last knot and stepped back to take a long, critical look at her handiwork.

She could have snuck all the ropes up to her room, but the loft in the stable was far more convenient, and nobody would look for her here unless it was truly an emergency. And since Athena intended on taking her time… well, she wasn’t about to be rushed by some Orlesian having a meltdown about the price of grain or tolls on Inquisition roads.

Plus. There was something charming about the image of Thom stretched out over a hay bale, his arms tied above his head to a post. The thick blanket would protect him and her from discomfort, but it didn’t disguise the sheer novelty of what they were doing.

What was it the peasant children had called it? Athena had never been allowed close enough to play with them herself, she’d been a freak because of her horns and size long before her magic made itself known as well. But a part of her distantly remembered looking on with longing as human children jumped into a card, shouting…

A hay ride! A hay ride!

Well. She was about to have a much more satisfying hay ride.

Thom stretched, testing the durability of her knots. His taut muscles strained and bulged before he gave up with a grunt.

“My lady.” He groaned, fingers gripping the ropes. “Is this truly necessary?”

“Yes.” Athena decreed, tracing her fingers from his bound wrists down the tight muscles of his arms, giving one bicep a firm squeeze. “How else will I have my way with you?”

“Any way you wish, clearly.” Thom responded drly. “Including trussed up in a loft.”

Athena laughed softly, teasing her nails over his muscled shoulders, down the hard planed of his chest and into the thick hair. It was just as luxurious as Varric’s, even though Thom didn’t flaunt himself the same way their dwarven companion liked to. And honestly, that was all well and good, Athena was quite pleased to have this treasure to herself.

She flicked her eyes from Thom’s chest down to the hard cock jutting proudly from a nest of neat curls the same dark color as the rest of his hair. “I think you’re enjoying yourself.”

“At the mercy of a beautiful woman?” Thom chuckled low in his throat. “How could I not?”

Athena smiled to herself, settling onto the bale beside Thom and leaning over him to capture his mouth in a soft, insistent kiss. She slipped her tongue past his willing lips, twisting it with his while she ran her hand over the soft beard he wore and up his jaw.

She broke the kiss to brush the hair from his temple. Thom groaned and tried to follow, but couldn’t quite get the leverage he needed. Athena tutted, walking her fingers down his broad chest. “Patience, love.”

“Let me taste you, my lady.” Thom pleaded.

Athena just shook her head, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “That is not the game tonight, Thom. Tonight…”

She trailed off, raking her nails over Thom’s abdomen, feeling his muscles tremble and flex beneath her touch. “Tonight, I’m going to taste every inch of you.”

Before he could protest, she made good on her promise. Leaning across his prone body, she pressed feather light kisses over his shoulders, running both palms firmly over his chest. With the slightest pull of mana, she warmed her teasing fingers and used them to massage the muscles he put through their paces every day.

She stopped at one jagged old scar, pressing a firmer kiss to it. “What is this one from? You’ve never said.”

“Ah.” He coughed nervously. “I hardly remember.”

Athena placed her hand over it, held his coal dark eyes with her own, and waited. She swore she saw color rising underneath the thick hair hiding most of his face.

“I do seem to recall a rather friendly lass and her aggravated betrothed.”

Athena’s laughter startled the birds nesting above, she heard them take flight in a flurry of beating wings. She dropped another kiss to the scar, shaking her head. “You scoundrel.”

“Don’t tell Varric. He’ll want the whole blighted story.”

“And then make up something much more exciting anyway.”

Thom chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

His laughter tapered off into a choked moan when Athena leaned over and flicked her tongue over that scar, letting her tongue trace his skin. She closed her eyes, beginning to work down his body with the patience and skill of a woman taught to control herself as a living weapon. And each press of her lips was another crack in his armor so that by the time she got to his thighs, she could hear his rasping breath above her.

“Athena.” He croaked. “My lady, you do not have to-”

She silenced him with the broad flat of her tongue slowly licking up his heavy length. It bobbed before her, a bead of clear fluid pooling at the tip. She flicked her tongue over it, collecting the salty liquid with a hum of delight.

“I’ve wanted to taste you.” Athena confessed, her words ghosting over Thom’s cock and making him buck on instinct. “I’ve wanted to take care of you.”

She looked from from beneath her lashes, settling her warm palms over the muscled thighs of her lover. She could see her wolfish grin reflected in his hungry eyes. “And now I get to do whatever I want with you, love.”

She licked her lips slowly, wrapping her fingers around the velvet steel of his shaft. She squeezed lightly, watching Thom’s eyes close and his head fall back. He made such a picture, one that ignited a fire deep within the pit of her stomach.

It was greedy, but she slid her hand to the root of his cock and opened her mouth, engulfing the tip in one movement. Thom’s broken moan echoed in the loft, his hips trembling with the effort to stay still while she sealed her lips over the sensitive head. She swirled her tongue slowly, listening to him gasp her name above her.

She swore the very sound made her slick with want. She closed her eyes, breathing through the sudden rush of desire in her blood. Achingly slowly, she slipped down an inch before licking her way back up, pulling away to press a filthy kiss to the head of his cock.

“You’re going to kill me, my lady.” Thom breathed.

“Never.” Athena promised. The very thought-

It reminded her of him in manacles. A cell door slamming closed. Cullen’s tortured eyes and Varric’s thick hand on her elbow. There was no room for those bad memories. Not now. Not here.

She erased them the way she knew best, guiding his cock back into her warm mouth and listening to his shattered noises echoing in the loft. They made her skin prickle while she slowly lavished Thom with attention, tracing her tongue over the veins and ridges of his cock. He tasted of clean, masculine sweat. She could smell sawdust, hay, and something uniquely Thom that made her dizzy with want.

That was before he began to spill praise from those sinful lips of him.

“Athena, yes-” He groaned. “Yes. Like that. Maker’s balls your mouth. The things you do with it could make a priest sin.”

Athena pressed her thighs together, trying to ease some of the unbearable pressure building between her legs. She made a little noise in her throat, beginning to bob up and down the proud length, covering him in her slick saliva.

“And you’re a damn sight down there. I could watch you all day. Never seen anyone look so damn good with my cock in their mouth, never had anyone make me feel-”

She sucked and Thom choked on his words, hissing and clutching at the ropes above his head. Athena smiled to herself, letting her free hand trace back up his thigh, scratching over his hip bones, before slipping down into the sensitive space just beneath his heavy balls.

She pressed her thumb firmly into that sensitive skin and listened to Thom choke on a shout of pleasure that nearly made her burst into giggles around his cock.

“I’m not going to last.” Thom moaned, fighting his restraints. “I won’t last and I want to please you, let me-”

Athena pulled off Thom’s cock with an obscene plop at the same time her hand drifted lower. Her thumb teased the tight muscle of his ass while she smiled brilliantly down at Thom, at her mercy in the best of ways.

“This pleases me.” Athena declared. “And I’ve brought stamina draughts. We have all evening, love.”

Her thumb slipped past the muscle and he almost ripped the rope from the post, instinctively arching into her touch with wanton greed. Before his moans even died into echoes she descended onto his hard cock again, swallowing his length in one quick movement.

He held himself tightly, always conscious of her comfort, but she could feel him trembling beneath her with all the fury of an earthquake or a storm. She crooked her fingers, searching for the perfect spot…

When she found it, he couldn’t help himself. He arched into her mouth in short, jerky thrusts and she sucked him eagerly. She hollowed her cheeks and flicked her tongue over his sensitive skin.

With a roar and the creak of ropes strained to their breaking point, Thom succumbed to his orgasm. Thick jets spilled into her throat and she swallowed quickly, careful not to make a mess they’d need to clean up. When he finished, he collapsed with a broken moan of her name.

Athena pulled her lips off and looked up at him, removing her finger gently and wiping it on the blankets, pulling off his softening cock. A thin string of fluid connected them for a moment before it broke cleanly.

Thom panted, limp and sated. Athena moved slowly, climbing gently over his form and reaching for the knots. A few quick flips of her fingers had them undone, unspinning and letting his arms fall.

She caught them before they could, examining the red marks of the rope with a wrinkle of her nose. She ran her thumb over them in apology, calling mana to her fingers.

“My lady… leave them.” Thom ordered gruffly. “It would… it would be an honor to bear the marks of your love.”

How could the foolish man just… say things like that to make her melt? She ducked her head quickly to hide her blush, rubbing the marks soothingly before bringing his wrists to her lips and kissing softly over the thrum of his pulse.

“As you wish, love.”

“And as soon as I catch my breath, I’ll be repaying the favor.”

Athena’s lips twitched and she leaned down, dropping his wrists to cradle his beloved face in her hands.

“As you wish, love.” She repeated, brushing her lips against his in a soft kiss. “As you wish.”

#shameless smut #wwkinktober2020 #co-zautumn #dadrunkwriting #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #female adaar/blackwall #female inquisitor/blackwall #female adaar #blackwall #blackwall is still in the stables

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tripleaxeldiaz · 4 years

Text

subtle as a brick in the small of my back

Eddie’s proposing to Buck. The whole team finds out first. It goes about as well as expected (not well at all)

Or: 5 times the team almost blows Eddie’s cover, and 1 time it’s already blown

read on ao3

In retrospect, Eddie really did this to himself.

But, in his defense, he had to tell Maddie — she was Buck’s sister, his only blood relative, and the only one who would honestly tell him if the ring was horribly ugly. And he had to tell Bobby — the guy was practically Buck’s step-father, and he wanted to avoid any possible lecture from his mother about not being “considerate” or “chivalrous” when it came to asking a man’s pseudo son to marry him.

He should have known, however, that it wasn’t just telling those two — he should have known it was telling Bobby, who would tell Athena, who would tell Hen, who would tell Chimney, who had already heard it from Maddie, and who was now practically skipping around the firehouse announcing it to everyone else.

Eddie watches from the kitchen as Chim flits around like a damn bumblebee spreading the good news about Buck and Eddie’s pending engagement. He’s not a holy man, but he prays to whoever is listening that Buck doesn’t find out until Eddie actually gets to ask him himself.

Whoever hears him has the worst sense of humor.

Buck and Eddie don’t like to be apart after bad calls.

This one could have been worse — four car pile up in the carpool lane with three critical injuries, all kids. They were in the ICU and expected to make full recoveries, but it’s still not easy pulling mangled bodies the same size as Christoper out of wrecked cars.

They sat close in the truck coming back to the station, thighs pressed together, shoulders overlapping. They changed together in the locker room, never far away enough that they couldn’t feel the others’ warmth. They climbed the stairs together to the lounge, Eddie’s hand around Buck’s wrist, making sure he stayed upright until they could fall onto the couch.

They’re better now, overall. They checked in with Carla and Chris (who were apparently in the process of an intricate arts and crafts project that required hot glue and a pound of glitter. Eddie can’t wait to clean that out of the house for the next 10 years). The TV in the lounge is softly playing a rerun of Chopped. Eddie is sitting in the corner of the couch, feet on the coffee table, fingers running through Buck’s short hair where his head is settled in his lap. His other hand rests on Buck’s chest, right over his heart, and he listens to Buck’s critical commentary of each chef’s use of ingredients. They know the bell will probably ring in the next 15 minutes and they’ll be right back in the truck, but for now they sink into this brief moment of peace.

Eddie’s so focused on the show and Buck’s apparently extensive knowledge of ways to prepare salmon that he doesn’t even notice Bobby coming over until the couch dips as he sits down.

“You boys doing okay?” he asks, a soft smile on his lips. Buck adjusts to see him better, sitting up to lean on Eddie’s chest, Eddie’s arm slung over his shoulder.

“Yeah, we’re good. Chris has a surprise craft for us when we get home, though I think the mess he makes will be more surprising than anything else.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, craning his neck to kiss the crown of Buck’s head. When he looks back at Bobby, the look the captain has on his face seems...sentimental. A little too sentimental, if Eddie’s being honest.

Buck must notice it too. He cocks his head and asks, “Are you okay Cap? You’re lookin’ a little misty over there.”

Bobby smiles and shakes his head, eyes shining. “I’m good, kid. Just...really excited for you guys.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. That’s a weird thing to say.

“Excited?” Buck asks, cocking his head even more. “What, that we didn’t get crushed on the highway?”

Bobby laughs. “Well yeah, of course. But also, you know, just excited that you guys have each other to lean on in the bad times like this. And you’ll have each other for a really long time. Forever, hopefully.”

Now Eddie’s eyes are wide in panic. Seriously? You’ll have each other for a really long time? He gives Bobby a look over Buck’s head that hopefully reads as If you don’t stop talking right now I’ll spray you with the hose and I won’t even feel bad about it.

Buck — beautiful, slightly oblivious Buck — just turns to look at Eddie, a smile lighting up his face (a relief to see after the past few hours). “Yeah, I’m pretty excited about that too.”

Eddie melts a little, returning Buck’s smile. Before he can fully respond, the bell rings, and Buck jumps to his feet. He stretches, shaking off any lingering cobwebs of their last call before heading into another one. He kisses Eddie’s cheek as he passes to head to the stairs.

He watches him bound down to the truck, still smiling, before turning to Bobby with narrowed eyes again.

“I’m pretty sure my 11 year old is better at being subtle than you are.”

Bobby claps his shoulder as he follows Buck to the stairs. “Don’t worry, I don’t think he noticed anything. Consider that a precursor to my speech at the wedding.”

Eddie sighs, hopes he’s right, and follows the team to the truck.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie stares at Maddie’s kitchen island in the same awestruck confusion he usually has on Buffridays. This week’s spread consists of lasagna, garlic knots, summer rolls, banh mi, tacos, and what he’s pretty sure is fried cheesecake. He feels Buck come up next to him, hip checking him as he gets one of everything on his plate before returning to the couch to pick their movie for the night. Eddie follows suit, skipping the cheesecake but promising he’ll come back later, before dropping down next to his boyfriend, who immediately turns and gives him a quick peck on the temple.

Eddie does not blush and smile like an idiot, despite this being a regular thing that has occurred for the entire two year duration of their relationship. He doesn’t. He’s totally used to how much and how openly Buck loves him. It’s fine.

Maddie walks over while they bicker about what movie to watch and sits on Buck’s other side. She clears her throat, halting their argument between Booksmart and Heathers, and pulls something out of her pocket.

Buck turns toward her and freezes. Eddie looks over as well and sees her holding a scrap of dark blue fabric. It’s inky and rich and speckled with white dots, almost like…

“The Milky Way Dress? Maddie, I can’t believe you still have this, why—”

“I finally got around to cleaning out the last of my boxes, pretty much a bunch of old stuff I was not ready to deal with when I left.” She smiles, wistful and a little sad. “I found this and just thought it was time to pass it on to you.”

Buck’s in shock, Eddie can tell. His eyes are wide and his mouth hangs open like it did the first time Christopher referred to the two of them as “his dads”, or like it did when Eddie told him that he wanted to spend the rest of their lives together (and no that was not a proposal, Eddie was hopped up on drugs after falling off a second story roof at a call. He barely remembers it, save for the look on Buck’s face. Doesn’t count.).

Buck takes the fabric reverently, turning it in his hands and running it through his fingers. He turns to Eddie, a soft smile on his face, and Eddie places his hand on his thigh reassuringly. He can tell there’s a story, and he’s happy to wait until Buck’s ready to share.

“This is— wow. So my grandma was one of the main people who raised me, along with Maddie. And she was crazy in the best way, very Miss Frizzle. She used to make all her own clothes with crazy fabric, and she always made me a matching shirt or belt or something. She got this Milky Way fabric once, and I was just obsessed with it, I wouldn’t shut up about it. So she went all out — she made me a shirt, a belt, a tie, a damn suit out of the stuff. I wore them as much as humanly possible for the next few years before my parents ‘accidentally’ donated them away.”

“You wore that suit for picture day until you were 13,” Maddie reminds him.

“Yeah, exactly.” Buck laughs wetly, wiping at his eyes. “But Grandma loved it as much as I did and always wore the matching dress when I came to visit. When she died when I was 16, she made it very clear in her will that she wanted to be buried in that dress. And Maddie, genius that she is, cut some scraps off the dress so we could always have a part of her. I lost mine in one of my billion moves, but now…”

“I kept part of this scrap too, but I wanted to give most of it to you,” Maddie says. “I know how close you two were. I used it as my ‘something old’ and ‘something blue’ at my wedding, so I figured you could use it too for...I don’t know, something. Down the line.”

She catches Eddie’s eye in a silent apology. He’s glad she caught herself because he’s still a little too wrapped up in watching Buck relive all these obviously happy memories to register much of anything else going on.

He watches Buck for a little longer as he folds the fabric back up, placing it in his back pocket. He turns and wraps his sister in a patented Buckley Bear Hug, laughing as he kisses the top of her head.

“Thank you, Mads. Seriously, this is...perfect. It’s just perfect.”

“Of course, I’m just glad I found it for you. And seriously, don’t lose it. I have a feeling you’re going to need it soon.” She pats his cheek fondly, sending a not so sly wink to Eddie.

Eddie somehow manages to keep his groan in his head as Buck settles between them again, picking up the remote.

“Alright gang, I really think the only way we’ll be able to balance out all this sappy stuff is with the glorious violence of Heathers…”

~~~~~~~~~~

Laughter erupts as soon as Eddie gets to the front door of the Grant-Nash house, so he waits a minute before knocking. The door swings open, and he’s greeted by the sounds of soft jazz, the smells of home cooking, and the vision of his boyfriend looking happy, relaxed, and definitely buzzed.

“Ah, my knight in shining armor, come to fetch me away!” Buck smiles his lopsided smile as he lets Eddie in and kisses him soundly. He tastes like Merlot and chocolate and just Buck. Eddie’s pretty sure he can get drunk off that taste alone.

“More like your chauffeur in a shining Silverado, but being a knight sounds much more fun.” Buck falls into a fit of giggles, his head collapsing onto Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie can’t help but laugh along with him. Few things fill him with as much joy as seeing Buck so unabashedly happy, and he’ll relish in it for as long as he can, whenever he can.

Buck grabs his hand and pulls him towards the kitchen. “Come sit, Athena said she has some wedding stuff for me before we go.”

Eddie’s stomach drops past his feet, possibly all the way to the center of the earth.

His internal monologue goes off the rails — dammit he should have asked by now, none of the big romantic plans he’s come up with seem good enough so he just keeps waiting, but maybe since it’s all ruined he’ll just do it tomorrow morning when they’re eating breakfast or tomorrow night after they put Chris to bed, and Jesus Christ he should never tell any of their friends anything ever again—

Pull it together, Diaz. Be chill. Maybe it’s nothing. Of all people, Athena would never break a secret so easily. She’s a cop for crying out loud.

“Wedding stuff?” he asks in a voice way too squeaky to ever be considered “chill”.

Thankfully, alcohol is an exceptional buffer to Buck noticing Eddie in a full on crisis. He turns to him with bright eyes and says, “Yeah, for Maddie! She told Athena she’s been dropping hints to Chim for a while now and thinks he’ll pop the question soon. She wants to get a jump start on things so they can have the wedding by the end of the year.”

Well now he’s pissed for an entirely different reason.

Before he can hit send on a text to Chim — what the hell dude are you trying to steal my thunder??? — Athena comes back to the table with three boxes full of binders, pamphlets, and fabric samples. Eddie stands to help, and she gives him a look he can’t quite read before flashing a smile at Buck.

“This should be everything Bobby had. There’s lists of venues with how many people they hold and how much they charge for food. There’s samples for place settings, centerpieces, and decorations. And there’s lists of bakeries for the cake, plus what allergies they can cater to and price estimates. I hope to God there are no other boxes but if there are, I’ll let you know.”

“Wow,” Buck marvels as he flips through a book of flower arrangements. “Bobby really doesn’t half-ass anything, does he?”

Athena chuckles as she finishes the last of her wine. “No he does not. Sometimes it’s a gift, sometimes it’s a curse that clutters up my closet for three years.”

“Well thanks very much Athena, I know Maddie will be thrilled to not plan a second wedding completely from scratch.” He hugs her tight and kisses her cheek before grabbing a box and heading to the door. “I’ll keep these safe for her until Chim gets his ass in gear. Babe, can you get the other two?”

Eddie’s already in the process of grabbing them before Buck finishes his question. He smiles soft and bright when he sees, kissing Eddie’s temple. “You really are my knight in shining armor.”

Eddie’s sure he’s got hearts in his eyes as he watches Buck leave and load up the truck. He’s only able to turn away when he feels Athena come up next to him.

“Speaking of getting asses in gear…”

“I know,” Eddie sighs. “I’m working on it. I just...it needs to be perfect. That’s what he deserves.”

“Honey, it’ll be perfect because it’s you asking. That’s all he cares about. Don’t think too hard about it.”

“Well looks like I have to do it sooner rather than later anyway. I cannot believe Chim’s gonna—”

“Oh, he’s not.”

Eddie squints. “He’s not?”

“No, those are for you guys, not Maddie. I really needed them out of the house and didn’t know how long I’d be waiting.” She levels Eddie with a look again, and he somehow feels like he’s 16 and his mom wasn’t “mad” at him for doing something dumb, just “disappointed”. “I already gave Maddie a heads up so she’ll play along. Just try to ask him before we all start going grey, okay?”

“Yes ma’am.” She smiles and pats his cheek before leading him out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve seen these in person since I was in high school,” Buck says as Hen sits down across from him at the kitchen table, dropping a bunch of small, thick packages Eddie can’t quite see from his post at the coffee machine.

He blearily grabs the two cups of coffee he made, making his way over to the table. He places one mug in front of Buck, earning him a relieved smile and wink as he sits down, looking over to see what Hen brought in. The table is covered in developed pictures from old disposable cameras, dozens of glossy frames of people in suits and cocktail dresses laughing, a beautiful dessert table, something that looks suspiciously like a conga line.

“Are these from an old LAFD gala or something?” Eddie asks as Buck snorts out a laugh. He holds a picture up so Eddie can see Chimney with a tie around his head, perched on someone’s shoulders, yelling at something out of frame. “Oh that’s definitely getting blown up to poster size.”

“Actually,” Hen says, “these are from mine and Karen’s wedding.”

Eddie freezes mid sip of coffee, eyes snapping to Hen, who just stares back at him with feigned innocence and barely concealed glee. Hen’s smart, smarter than all of them put together, and while he knows she won’t tell Buck anything outright, he also knows she is thoroughly enjoying this opportunity to make Eddie squirm.

“Whoa,” Buck says. “There’s got to be at least a thousand pictures here. How’d you get so many in one night?”

“We had a few cameras on every table and told the guests to go nuts. We have some professional shots of the reception, but we wanted to see it how everyone else saw it too. And we decided to wait until our 10 year anniversary to get them developed so we could have a little walk down memory lane.”

“Huh, that’s a pretty good idea,” Buck murmurs thoughtfully, still absorbed in all the pictures in front of him. Eddie agrees, the cameras are a great idea, and he tucks that into the filing cabinets of his brain to use when they have their wedding.

If they ever have their wedding.

Eddie’s working on it. Really. He’s got the skeleton of a plan that will be beautiful and romantic and not too big, but big enough that Buck will know without a doubt how much Eddie loves him. So it’ll be soon, okay? Very soon. As long as someone doesn’t ruin everything before his plan can actually get set into motion.

He sees Hen’s smile get bigger, like she can see Eddie’s brain starting to overheat a little.

She leans over the table, pointing to one of the pictures. “I also recommend doing a dessert table instead of a big ugly cake. You can do a bunch of good stuff too like cupcakes, pie, we just went to a wedding with a candy bar…”

“A candy bar!?” Buck looks at Eddie like a kid on Christmas, and Eddie files that idea away too (while also noting that he’ll have to remind Buck that they probably can’t only have gummy worms at a candy bar).

“And you guys should definitely have a live band, they’re much better at getting people to dance than a DJ.”

Eddie clocks the “you guys” and starts sweating a little more. Hen notices too, eyes widening at Eddie like she knows she went a little too far.

Buck, by some miracle, still seems caught up in the fantasy of a 12-foot table covered in gummy worms.

He looks at Hen, eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t think a DJ is better? I feel like they have way better music usually. Live bands have, like, the same seven songs, and one of them is always ‘Footloose’.”

They continue to debate the pros and cons as Eddie stands to put his mug in the sink, squeezing Buck’s shoulder as he passes. Buck grabs his hand, kissing the inside of his wrist before letting him go, all without breaking conversation on whether “Shout!” or “The Macarena” is a more annoying song. Eddie’s stomach flutters like it always does with Buck’s absentminded displays of affection, but the butterflies also seem to be saying It’s time to get your shit together and ask this man for his hand in marriage, idiot.

Eddie closes his eyes, resting his head on the cabinet above the sink.

The butterflies are right. A little rude, but still right.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie knew Chimney was going to be the hardest loose end to round up.

He had stood at the top of the stairs, arms crossed, as Chim came up after telling the station (and probably the entire city of Los Angeles) that Eddie and Buck were getting engaged. “Chim, man, look—”

“No worries, Eddie,” Chim said, holding a hand up to cut Eddie off. “Cross my heart, I will not say a word to Buck. I’m sure you have something big and sappy in the works, and I will not be the person to screw that up.”

Eddie deflated a bit, still eyeing Chim warily. Chim just smiled back, clapping a hand on his shoulder and squeezing reassuringly. “Look, I’m so, so happy for you guys. You’ve both been through the ringer and still managed to find each other and create a beautiful life for yourselves. You guys really deserve it, and I—” He cleared his throat as his eyes filled with tears. He opened his mouth like he wanted to keep going, but he pulled Eddie into a tight hug instead.

“Thanks Chim, that’s...that’s really sweet.” Eddie felt his voice crack around the lump in his throat as he patted his friend on the back. They pulled away, laughing quietly and wiping their eyes.

“Plus,” Chimney said, punching Eddie softly on the shoulder, “we’re basically in-laws now, so there’s definitely a bro code. Add that to the firefighter bro code, and I’m double coded, man.”

“So you’ll...double keep the secret?”

“Exactly.” Chim patted his back as he walked toward the kitchen. Eddie watched him go, still trying to put together the double code thing that was definitely not actually a thing.

In his own weird way, Chim had seemed sincere in keeping his mouth shut. Eddie really thought that had been that.

That had most certainly not been that.

Because since Chim couldn’t let out his excitement with words, he had to let it out in other ways.

Namely, tears. An ungodly amount of tears.

The whole team is in the lounge, flipping channels until they land on Say Yes to the Dress. Chim blinks at the TV, then whips his head to where Buck and Eddie are squished together on the couch. Eddie catches his gaze, watching his eyes begin to water before he’s up and running down the stairs. Hen barks out a laugh and tries to hide it in a cough. Bobby shakes his head and looks toward the sky, either asking God for strength or to smite him where he sits.

They’re at the kitchen table early in the morning, heads bent together as Buck shows Eddie a TikTok on his phone (Eddie doesn’t get the deal with these things, but they make Buck laugh so hard he snorts so he’ll allow it). They’re startled by a strangled sob from across the room and look up to see Chim rushing past them to the coffee machine rubbing his eyes, his shoulders still shaking as he adds milk to his mug. Buck shoots Eddie a confused look, and Eddie just shrugs helplessly before shooting a death glare to the back of Chim’s head.

Buck and Chim are chatting in the locker room when Eddie arrives for shift, dropping his bag next to Buck and giving him a quick peck hello on the cheek. Buck smiles at him, reaching up to push back a lock of hair that had fallen on Eddie’s forehead in his hustle to be on time (he’s growing his hair out again because he likes it that way, okay, not because Buck told him he looked like a sexy Superman when it was longer). They turn back to Chim in time to see tears begin to fall in earnest, which he quickly blames on allergies before scooting past them and out of the room.

“Is Chim like...good?” Buck asks, watching Chim walk away blowing his nose in his shirt. All Eddie had done was smile (probably a little dreamily) at some dumb joke Buck made, but that was enough apparently.

“He’s fine,” Eddie replies quickly. “He’s just...you know. Going through it. I guess.”

Bobby snorts from behind the stove as he flips a grilled cheese.

Buck sighs. “Should we remind him about therapy at least? I’m just worried he’s gonna be perpetually dehydrated or something.”

“I don’t know if therapy is what he needs,” Bobby says, looking pointedly at Eddie. Eddie throws a napkin at him.

Buck turns to Bobby confused but is quickly distracted by the hot sandwich placed in front of him. They launch into a debate on the best combination of cheese for a grilled cheese, Chim’s hydration levels seemingly forgotten.

Luckily for everyone, they’re almost in the clear. Reservations have been made, Chris’s sleeping arrangements have been confirmed, and Eddie’s even picked out an outfit. Everything is finally ready.

Eddie’s excited, more excited than he can remember being in a very long time, possibly since Christopher was born.

He also feels like he’s gonna hurl.

Hopefully that’s a good sign.

~~~~~~~~~~

He settled on recreating their first official date. It’s just cheesy enough that Buck will get a kick out of telling the story over and over and simple enough that Eddie can handle everything without involving one single other person.

It’s really nothing crazy: dinner at their favorite Italian restaurant and watching the sunset on the beach, brown bagging a bottle of wine like they’re in college. Eddie even knows what he’s going to say already, going over it again and again in his head so he can get everything out perfectly.

That first date, Eddie had accidentally told Buck he loved him. He hadn’t planned on it at all, but the words had been bubbling under his skin for so long at that point it was a relief to get them out in the open. He was immediately terrified he had said them too fast, too soon, but Buck simply pushed him back into the sand and kissed him soft and sincere, more teeth than anything once they both gave up on holding back their smiles.

He doesn’t want to be so caught off guard by his own brain this time. Not for something this important.

But that all has to wait until tomorrow.

Tonight, Chris is with Abuela (who slyly offered to keep him all weekend so Eddie and Buck could “celebrate properly”, which Eddie was both thankful for and mortified by, hearing from his grandma), they had ordered Chinese, and are now watching a movie that (blessedly) has no cartoon characters randomly bursting into song.

It’s normal, domestic, something they do at least once a week.

And yet Eddie feels like his skin is on fire, his heart beating so fast he’s sure it’ll break through his ribs at any moment.

He’s looking at Buck, feels his chest on his back, his strong arm around his shoulders, drawing absent-minded shapes across his chest as his attention is focused on Bill and Ted meeting Rufus in the phone booth for the first time. The light of the TV highlights Buck’s jaw and cheekbones, casts an ethereal glow on his unkempt curls. He laughs at something, a rumble deep in his chest, head tipping back slightly exposing the long line of his neck.

He’s beautiful. Stunning, inside and out. The most amazing thing that has ever deemed Eddie worthy of attention and love, aside from his son.

And if he doesn’t ask him to be his forever right now, this minute, he’s absolutely going to explode.

He’s off the couch and striding toward the bedroom before his brain even tries to stop him. He hears Buck faintly call, “Baby? Are you okay?” but is too busy rifling through his sock drawer to answer. He holds the blue velvet box firmly in his hand and takes a deep breath.

He had been waiting and planning and trying his damnedest to keep this all under wraps so by the time he asked, everything would be perfectly romantic and swoon-worthy, a story they could tell their kids and grandkids and great-grandkids to inspire them to find a love like theirs. A moment so perfect that there would be no doubts about how desperately Eddie needs Buck in his life until he’s buried in the ground, and probably even after that. Buck deserves to know that Eddie would go to the ends of the earth to make him happy, have it spelled out in the stars just how deeply he makes Eddie feel loved and safe, and that he’d do anything to make sure Buck feels that in return, always.

But, really, they’ve never been perfect. They’re messy sometimes, and gritty. Too loud or too soft or too much or not enough. They push and pull at each other in good and bad ways, sometimes too far, but sometimes just enough that they come out even better together and apart than they were before.

They’ve never been conventional. So why bother starting now?

When he comes back to the living room, Buck is standing, movie paused, worrying at his hands as he watches Eddie walk in. He freezes as Eddie comes up to him before sinking to one knee, eyes widening as the box opens, revealing a simple, black, titanium band.

And then he’s laughing. Full body, shoulders shaking, like Eddie getting ready to bare his heart and soul to him is the funniest damn thing in the world.

Before he can dive too deeply into his wounded pride, Buck’s kneeling too, placing his hands on either cheek, eyes bright with a little mischief and a lot of love as he says, “It’s about damn time, Diaz.”

Eddie blinks, feels his shoulders slump a little. He wishes he was surprised, but he’s really not.

“Who told you?”

“Oh, no one told me, like, specifically. But Maddie finding our grandma’s dress? And Athena conveniently having all of their old wedding planning stuff? Plus, Chim hasn’t been able to look at me without crying for weeks. I don’t know if you know this, but our friends are really bad at being low key.”

Oh, Eddie knows. He had just been hoping (in vain, it seems) that Buck didn’t.

He breathes out a laugh and shakes his head, leaning into Buck’s hands still framing his face. “Well, can I at least do my speech? I have it memorized and everything. It was supposed to be for tomorrow, but…” He gestures vaguely, encompassing the whole, beautiful mess this has turned into.

“Of course you can,” Buck says, his smile growing by the second. “But hurry up, because I can’t wait to marry the shit out of you.”

And who is Eddie to argue with that?

He takes one of Buck’s hands, squeezing tight. He already knows the answer, but that doesn’t make him any less nervous.

“Evan Buckley, you are the most amazing man I have ever met in my life, and probably the most annoying.” Buck laughs again at that, and Eddie feels all of his insides swoop, his heart filling with so much adoration it’s probably about to crack. “You are unendingly selfless, unbelievably headstrong, kind and gentle, but would kill a man for the people you love without thinking twice. You have shown me more about what it means to love and be loved than I ever thought I could know. You are also responsible for about 75% of my grey hairs.” They’re both crying now, not even bothering to wipe the tears away, wearing them like badges of honor for each other. “You make me a better firefighter, a better friend, a better father, and a better man. I want to spend the rest of my life making sure you know how much I love you, every minute of every hour of every day.” He takes the ring out of the box, holding it up between them. “I want to have your back forever. Will you marry me?”

He barely has the question out before Buck is tackling him to the floor, kissing him so deeply he feels it in his atoms. He gets the ring on at some point, lips never leaving Buck’s, and they get lost in each other, in happiness, in love, in excitement at getting to spend their lives together, as a family.

Nothing leading up to this was perfect. But he wouldn’t trade any of it — their chaotic lives, their ups and downs, their crazy, unsubtle family — for anything in the world.

But next time he’s planning a surprise, he will absolutely be keeping it to himself.

#buddie #9-1-1 #911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie fic #it's been TWO YEARS since i wrote anything and these two finally broke me #that and the quarantine probably #ficcery #soft eddie rights

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whileyoursleeping · 5 years

Text

Habits

prompt: Just Eddie absentmindedly comforting Buck with a kiss to the forehead/head after a tough call. They aren’t even together and it just ends up becoming a thing they do.

idk man it’s been a long week i needed some fluff in my life

____________________________

Today doesn't feel like a win.

Buck joined firefighting because he got to be badass and help people at the same time, and that hasn't changed - he was telling the truth about that. He gets an insane rush from the bell going, from driving the truck with its lights and screaming sirens, from kicking in doors - people's worst days keep him on his toes and make him feel alive, and he'd feel bad about that if it weren't for the fact that he helps people.

They don't have deaths that often, really. It's a police thing, to go to the deaths. But sometimes the paramedics can't make it to help the cops out and then they're on deck and that's when things go sideways, usually.

He's broken five ribs of a nineteen year old today, a sweet and kind of frail looking girl who he thinks might've had an eating disorder of some kind - he knows what those look like. And her heart stopped, and they got there before anyone else, and he was the first to do CPR, the first to break her ribs, feel them give with absolute ease under his hands.

He feels everything. That's why he didn't join the SEALs. Because he feels it all and can't switch it off.

In the truck, Eddie's watching him. Buck resists the urge to squirm - Eddie knows him too well to think he's unaffected by today. He doesn't want Eddie to look.

Eddie taps his headset, then removes it. Buck follows suit reluctantly.

"You okay?" Eddie asks, loud over the roar of the engine.

"Yeah," Buck says, and he smiles, pretty convincingly if he does say so himself.

Eddie looks doubtful, but he pulls the headset back on, and they're quiet until they reach the 118. If Eddie shuffles a little closer, and Buck lets himself press his knee to Eddie's, no one says anything.

~*~

He's getting changed after the shift when Eddie finds him.

It's been a pretty shit day really. He's tired, and his leg is aching - it acts up when it's cold or when he's had a shit shift and he doesn't want to show it, so he grits his teeth and walks perfectly normally to his locker.

"Hey, Buckaroo."

It's Eddie's voice. He doesn't need to turn around. He lets himself feel a little warm at being called Buckaroo by Eddie, with the affection evident in his voice.

"Hey, man," he says.

"You want to come over tonight?" Eddie asks, stepping up to his locker near Buck's and beginning to shed his own uniform. "I'll pick up Chris from abuela's and we can have a pizza night. You still haven't seen Star Wars."

Buck wrinkles his nose. "I just don't get why people think Kylo Ren is hot," he argues.

Eddie laughs. "Yeah. Reminds me of my emo phase."

"Emo pha - what? Are there pictures?"

"Not that you'll ever see."

Buck pouts, and Eddie laughs. His face softens as he looks at Buck, and he steps a little closer.

"I'm sorry today was hard," Eddie says, sincerely, then pulls Buck down by the back of his neck and kisses his forehead.

Buck - because he's tactile and affectionate and loves being touched and having people near him - doesn't think twice about letting Eddie grab him by the neck, even when he's being pulled down again. He blinks, unsure of what to say, when he's let go.

But it felt nice. It felt really nice.

"Are you coming to pizza night?" Eddie asks.

Buck nods mutely. Eddie hasn't let his neck go. It feels nice to be held, even if it's just like this. Does Eddie even know he did it?

"Okay." He's let go, and he immediately feels cold, adrift. "I'll see you there."

~*~

Buck somehow makes it over to Eddie's, even though if you asked him he wouldn't be able to say how.

The moment he knocks, he can hear Christopher inside, yelling, "Dad, Dad, Bucky's here!" and the clatter of his crutches to get to the door.

Buck is ready. The moment the door swings open, Buck's grinning, pulling Chris up into his arms and swinging him around, resulting in a delighted fit of laughter. He kisses Chris's hair, inhales the little kid smell, and then puts him down.

"You always beat your dad to it, little man."

"That's 'cause he's slow!"

Eddie's laugh rings down the hallway. He enters a second later, in soft, worn blue jeans and a red henley that makes Buck's mouth feel kind of dry. Somehow, he feels underdressed in his own black jeans and white hoodie.

"Hey," Eddie says, and pulls him into a hug.

Buck - who is a touch-hungry, needy little pest at the best of times - melts into it, smiling so hard his face hurts. "I didn't miss pizza did I?"

"I made Daddy wait!" Chris crows. "Buck, come look at my science project!"

They eat pizza and Buck helps Chris with his science project, they play Mortal Kombat, and the night settles as Chris begins to yawn and requests a bedtime story from both of them. It's a little hard, two grown men crowded onto one single bed, but they manage, and Chris is out like a light halfway through the second story.

Eddie shuts the door to Chris's bedroom quietly and heads back to the kitchen. Buck has already started cleaning up.

"Don't do that," Eddie says. "You're a guest. Guests don't clean."

"Guests don't eat their friend out of house and home and then leave," Buck replies. Eddie smiles, then leans against the counter, almost nervous.

"Listen," he says, and Buck - detecting the change in the atmosphere almost immediately - sobers up, takes up a similar position, and waits to hear whatever this is - maybe the evening didn't go as well as he thought and he overstepped with the homework thing.

"I'm sorry about kissing you on the head," Eddie says. "I do it with Christopher when he's upset, and I was on autopilot. It was inappropriate of me. I'm sorry."

"It wasn't inappropriate," Buck says, flustered for a number of reasons (one of them being that he has never once in his life used the word "inappropriate" in conversation). "I liked it. It was nice."

Once realising what he said, he promptly starts praying for the ground to open up beneath him and swallow him whole, preferably for eternity. He's twenty seven and admitting he likes being kissed on the forehead. Fantastic.

"Oh." Eddie smiles. "That's... good then?" He looks a little awkward. "I just didn't want you to be uncomfortable."

"I'm not. Wasn't."

Eddie laughs. "You look pretty uncomfortable, Buck."

It's true. He's wedged himself into the corner counter with his hands deep in his pockets, makes a conscious effort to relax. "I thought I was in trouble," he admits.

"For what?"

"I don't know, something?"

"We gotta stamp that out of you," Eddie sighs, but his eyes are warm and face affectionate. "C'mon. You owe me a rematch."

~*~

It's sort of a habit after that.

They have some bad calls. Someone drowns, and Buck - who jumped in and pulled the guy out - shivers in the back of the firetruck in midwinter L.A temperatures until they get back to the firehouse. Eddie sits with him, puts a blanket around his shoulders, and presses a soft kiss to the side of his head.

Chimney's eyes just about bug out of his head, and Buck is almost ninety percent sure that Hen snapped a sneaky picture to show Bobby and Athena, but he's cold and wet and miserable and doesn't really care.

They send Eddie into the change rooms with him, because he's near hypothermic and they're worried about him collapsing. He gradually turns the water temperature of the shower up until it's scalding and stands there until his skin turns red and the shivering stops, and when he exits the showers, Eddie is there.

"You waited?" Buck asks, surprised.

"The last thing I want to have to tell Christopher is that his Buck died falling over in the shower because I wasn't paying attention."

Buck gets dressed, sits down on the bench, and sighs heavily. Eddie sits next to him.

"You okay?" he asks quietly.

"I just... wish he'd made it." A lot of things don't make sense to Buck after the tsunami. Why he lived even while cut and bleeding and on blood thinners, barely a month out of a pulmonary embolism that also should have killed him, and so many others died. "Doesn't make sense."

Eddie sighs, puts his arm around Buck's shoulders again, and draws him in close, until their thighs are pressed together. Eddie's lips press into his temple again, and Buck sighs at the contact.

"Easy, cariño," Eddie murmurs into his skin.

Buck weighs his options. No one is looking for him because Eddie is here with him, and he wants so badly to snuggle down into Eddie's warmth, but he also knows the guy isn't necessarily as tactile as him and almost definitely straight - he had a wife after all - but it's been a long time since someone held him, and not the other way around.

He takes a chance, nudges closer and down until his head is mostly tucked under Eddie's chin. Eddie, for his part, just raises his head to make more room for Buck.

Someone will look for them eventually, Buck knows. Still, he waits for Eddie to end their half-cuddle.

"If you get lonely tonight," Eddie says, quietly, "there's a spot for you at my place."

Buck doesn't believe him now, when it's light out and he knows where he is, but later - when it's dark and he's woken from a nightmare - believing Eddie or not won't matter.

~*~

"Chris!"

He's sitting up, nightmare fading, panic whirling through his mind like a twisted merry go round. There's water, he's breathing it in, and everything is upside down and he can't breathe.

"Chris, Chris-"

He's out of bed, going God knows where, makes it halfway down the stairs before he slips and falls. He crashes to the bottom, and the impact serves only one purpose - waking him up.

He finds his phone, dials Eddie. It's the only action his brain is capable of taking, even as he hates himself for waking the man up.

"Hullo?" Eddie's voice, sleepy, comes.

Buck tries to take a breath, but it catches. He feels cold.

"Buck?" Eddie asks, his voice sharper. "Are you alright?"

"Chris?" Buck asks, shyly, feeling suddenly very stupid for panicking.

"Chris is okay," Eddie says, calm. "Are you okay?"

He hesitates. Eddie breathes on the other end of the line, grounding him. "I had a nightmare," he says, gulping, "about the tsunami. Fuck, Eddie, I'm sorry, it's late-"

"Come over," Eddie interrupts.

"What?"

"Come over. You need sleep and you aren't gonna do that alone."

"Eddie, it's... well, I don't know what time it is, exactly, but-"

"Come over, Buck," Eddie says, and the line cuts out.

Unsure of what else to do, and honestly a little soothed by being ordered around, Buck packs a bag of his things and heads to Eddie's. The house is dark when he gets there, but as he sits in his car - debating turning around and leaving - the front door opens.

It's Eddie, in sweats and nothing else. God really has no mercy on Buck today.

He piles out of the car, feeling childish and stupid, but Eddie only smiles at him when he gets to the front door. "You okay?"

Buck nods mutely, but Eddie's frowning, and that's when Buck realises he woke up crying and almost hasn't stopped, and that he's limping.

"Come on," Eddie says, taking Buck's arm gently. "This way."

"The couch is-"

"You aren't sleeping on the couch, Buck. It's freezing."

"But I-"

Eddie pulls him down and kisses his head again, effectively ending his sentence. "We'll stop by Chris's room on the way," Eddie says quietly. "You can see for yourself that Chris is fine."

His throat closes up, so when he says, "Thank you," it sounds quiet and wobbly.

Chris is, sure enough, fast asleep and fine under his covers. Dry, safe. Buck watches him for a few minutes, until Eddie pulls him gently, and they go to Eddie's room. It's sparse, compared to Chris's - everything Eddie has, he gives to his son.

There's something attractive about that. Buck will definitely not analyse the fuck out of it later.

"Buck," Eddie says.

"Huh - yeah?"

Eddie's smiling gently. "The bed isn't gonna eat you."

He's been standing there long enough that Eddie has stripped down to the cut-off sweatpants he wears to bed. He's watching Buck expectantly.

Buck shrugs his way out of his clothes. It's not that he's shy about how he looks - he works hard and he knows it shows - but being around Eddie makes him nervous. He feels vulnerable. It's almost nice, in a terrifying way.

"You are thinking so damn hard," Eddie groans. He's already in bed, on his stomach, hands beneath the pillow. He's got a tattoo on his spine Buck somehow hasn't noticed before, and his lats are defined as if he'd been hand-drawn by an artist.

"Sorry," Buck says sheepishly, and climbs into the other side of the bed before he can really stop to consider what he's doing. He's tired, and his brain is fogged by the stress of his nightmare, and Eddie is offering him something he doesn't know how to ask for, so he takes it. Selfishly, he takes it.

He rolls onto his side, away from Eddie, and closes his eyes, willing sleep to come. He's keyed up still, from the nightmare that shook him awake and the implications of what being in Eddie's bed could mean alongside the kisses, and if he lets himself drift too much he's back in yesterday, feeling the drowning man's ribs break beneath his hands.

(He never wanted to hurt people, only help them. It turns out those can be the same thing. Nobody warned him.)

"Buck," Eddie says quietly.

Buck jumps. He thought Eddie was asleep. "Yeah?"

"Roll onto your stomach."

He does. It's easy to do what Eddie tells him to. The other man has never led him astray before.

"Easy," Eddie murmurs, which is the only thing that stops buck from jumping when he feels Eddie sitting at his hip, and Eddie's calloused hands on his shoulders, massaging.

He didn't realise how tense he was. He relaxes, lets Eddie manipulate his head from side to side and dig his fingers into all the tender parts Buck didn't know existed.

He's falling closer and closer to the edge of sleep. Even as he does, his belly stirs with heat - he hasn't been touched like this for a long time.

Eddie finds a knot under his shoulder blade, pulls his arm out a little to open the joint up, and digs in.

"Ow!" Buck says, only remembering to keep his voice down at the last second.

"Sorry, sorry," Eddie says guiltily. He'd jumped when Buck had flinched from the pain, and now he's rubbing gently, apologetically, at the kinks that make up Buck's spinal cord. "It's supposed to be relaxing. I didn't realise you were this tense."

"Me neither," Buck admits. "I was relaxed."

Maybe a little too relaxed. He's half hard, which means there's no way he's rolling over anytime soon. He wants Eddie to keep going - to maybe duck below the waistband of his sweats.

He doesn't think about it too hard. Being attracted to men is new, but it doesn't feel that different from being attracted to women. No, the part he's freaked about is that it's Eddie, and knowing Buck's streak of relationships, he'll almost definitely fuck things up.

"Good." He feels Eddie lay down next to him; his hand keeps moving up and down Buck's spine, soothing him. "Go to sleep, cariño."

Cariño, Buck muses. It sounds familiar, and affectionate. If he was more awake, he'd probably be able to work out why.

"Night," he mumbles.

"Goodnight, Buck."

~*~

He's half awake because the door is opening.

Sometimes, his SEAL training is effective. Sometimes, because he's out of practice and relaxed, it's not. Today it's at the halfway mark, where his body instinctively knows that someone is nearby, but doesn't care enough to react.

There's a heavy arm slung over his waist, and someone breathing nearby. Eddie, Buck thinks, and the knot of momentary panic in his chest eases.

"Daddy, you didn't tell me Buck was here!"

Buck groans, raises his head from the pillow to see Chris attempting to climb onto the bed. "Hey, buddy," he croaks. He reaches down with one arm, gets it around Christopher, and hauls him up. "Why're you up so early?"

"We're always awake this early," Eddie's voice mumbles. "Chris, we said no waking Daddy up before six thirty, didn't we?" His fingers flex at Buck's hip, and Buck wishes more than anything that Eddie was dragging him close to kiss him.

"It's six-thirty-five, Dad!"

Buck laughs sleepily, tucks Christopher closer to his chest. The kid goes easily, melts into his body and lays there with his hand on Buck's neck, grinning up at him brightly.

"Dad," Chris says.

Eddie makes a vaguely muffled noise that Buck thinks may sound like a prayer for death, but doesn't do anything else, other than sling his arm over Christopher's waist. His hand lands on Buck's hip, and Buck twitches helplessly.

"Yeah, buddy?" Eddie mumbles.

"How come Buck's sleeping in your bed?"

"Because he was tired."

There's a long pause, as if Chris is contemplating something - which is never good. "Mommy used to sleep in your bed too," Chris points out.

Dead silence falls over them. Buck freezes as Eddie, suddenly very awake, raises his head and looks right at Buck.

"I'm gonna go make breakfast," Buck says, and not only does he literally fall out of bed, he trips on his jeans in the doorway, causing Christopher to laugh and clap mercilessly. Buck loves the kid, but he's way too smart for his own good.

~*~

More close calls after that. Buck nearly falls off a ladder (again), which earns him a stern talking to by Eddie and a few off-handed comments from Chim about needing to lose a few pounds.

Eddie kisses him on the head that night before they leave, and Buck feels the spot his lips touched all night.

A week later, it's more of the same - a bad pileup and an overzealous Buck results in a burn to his hand, which is superficial but still has Eddie muttering in furious Spanish as he does first aid. Buck didn't know forehead kisses could feel angry, but this one does.

He decides to be more careful. Eddie's blood pressure can't take much more of this, he suspects.

Only even being careful Eddie finds reasons. He makes a perfectly logical call during a job and comes out unscathed (which hasn't happened in, like, three years at least) and Eddie is still worried and looking like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I'm fine, Eds," Buck says, and gives his best winning smile. "What, you worried about not keeping up with me?"

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Estúpido," he mutters, but he's almost smiling.

"Hey! I don't understand Spanish, but I can guess!"

Eddie finally cracks a grin and pulls Buck down by the collar to give him a quick kiss on the head.

"So," Chimney says, later, when they're getting changed. "How long have you and Diaz been a thing?"

Buck almost chokes on the muesli bar he's wolfing down. "Me and-? We aren't. We're not."

Chimney doesn't look convinced. "You sure he knows that?"

"It's just a, a thing," Buck splutters.

"I thought you said it wasn't a thing?"

"No, it isn't - we're not a thing, the kissing thing is a thing, it's not - it doesn't mean we're together! We're just friends!"

"Oh, please," Hen scoffs - she's waited for them outside the locker rooms. "Buck, have you seen the way that man looks at you? You aren't just anything."

"I thought he was gonna blow a fuse when Buck was hanging off that ladder," Chim says thoughtfully. "Just about tore strips off the maintenance guy for not fixing it better."

"He did?" Buck asks, a little awkward.

"Sure did, Buckaroo. He loves you."

Buck bristles. "I'm straight!"

Hen just outright laughs at that, and Buck wilts. "Well," he hedges. "I mean, I thought I was..."

"Honey," Hen says, "even I'm not resistant to the Diaz charm. You can't be held responsible for waving goodbye to straight in the rearview mirror."

Her and Chimney high five gleefully. Buck bangs his head dramatically against a firetruck. Just his luck that he'd end up falling for the guy who gives him totally platonic forehead kisses.

~*~

Things get decidedly more awkward after his revelation.

He's a floundering mess around Eddie, who doesn't even seem to take offence at it - he just smiles and laughs like Buck is the funniest person ever.

Everyone's having fun except him, given that he's trying to get his head around liking Eddie the same way he liked Abby and Ali.

The forehead kisses continue, except now Eddie's doing it when Buck's fine but Eddie's had a rough day. Buck considers starting except he doesn't know how to without making things infinitely worse for both of them.

Eddie notices he's being weird and brings it up all of once: "Look, I know you said it didn't bother you, but if you want me to stop, you can tell me to anytime-"

"It doesn't," Buck rushes to say. "Don't. I don't want you to. To stop that is."

God, hasn't the universe fucked with him enough already?

~*~

Eddie calls in sick two weeks later and Buck, because of who he is as a person, goes to the grocery store after work, picks up ingredients for soup, and goes around.

He's geared up to argue his way into the house, sure that Eddie won't want to see him when he's like this, so when Eddie opens the door to his knocking his jaw is set and he's ready to fight dirty to get inside.

"Buck?" Eddie asks.

"You look terrible," Buck informs him, and Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Thanks, Buck."

But he's right, Eddie does look bad. He's pale and his eyes are red-rimmed and he's wearing a hoodie, which he never does, that's a little too big on him.

"Bobby said you were sick," Buck says, "so I'm going to make you soup." He's nervous and trying to cover it up with confidence, and Eddie kindly doesn't call him on it. He just smiles a little.

"Do I get a say in this?"

"No," Buck says. "Where's Chris?"

"With abuela. I didn't want him to catch it. But she can't keep him a lot longer." Eddie's getting that hunted look in his eyes, the one he had when he first joined the 118 and didn't know how to access childcare and abuela had hurt her hip. "I'm not really up to looking after him either."

"I'll look after him," Buck says instantly. "We'll be quiet, I promise."

Eddie's face breaks into a smile. "You sound like you're trying to convince me to have a sleepover."

"Can we, Eddie? Pleeeease?"

Eddie laughs, coughs, and stands back to let Buck in. "Not that I'm not grateful," he says, "but why're you here?"

"I told you,, I'm making soup," Buck says matter-of-factly. "Go sit down somewhere."

Eddie takes a seat at the kitchen table, where he can watch as Buck works. Buck knows better than to pick this battle, so he says nothing, just starts unloading groceries from bags and chattering aimlessly as he gets preparing things.

"That was when the new guy slipped and fell right into it - grey water, man, pretty much the grossest shit you could ever go through and - that's my sweatshirt."

Eddie looks like a deer in the headlights, but Buck's certain he's not wrong. It's the white sweatshirt he'd worn here when they had dinner. After the first forehead kiss.

"Oh, really?" Eddie asks, so unconvincingly Buck actually snorts.

"Yeah." It's a little long on Eddie, but it fits well enough around his shoulders. "That's definitely mine. And you know it's mine."

"Sorry," Eddie mumbles.

"Don't be." Buck, a little slow on the uptake, realises two things simultaneously - one, that Eddie knew it was his sweatshirt and didn't return it to him, and two, that Eddie had knowingly put it on afterwards. He grins.

"You wanted to wear my clothes."

"Buck," Eddie says, almost whining. He's begging Buck to drop it but Buck has never known when to quit, even when he's ahead.

"My sweatshirt is your forehead kiss!" Buck crows.

"Dios mios," Eddie mumbles, holding his head in his hands. "Este imbécil no tiene idea..."

Buck feels like he should be at least a little bit outraged at the definite use of the word imbecile in that sentence, but he's too busy feeling warm and fuzzy at the idea that Eddie takes comfort in wearing Buck's clothes the same way Buck takes comfort in Eddie's forehead kisses.

"You love me," he says smugly.

Eddie looks up, then, smiling with his eyes warm and pinned on Buck, and Buck suddenly feels as though the floor has fallen away - he's looking at it, he realises. He said it as a joke, but he's looking at Eddie now and Eddie is looking at him and Eddie so clearly loves him it hurts.

"Te amo," Eddie says, still with that expression.

Buck doesn't need a translation for that. He knows what that means. He knows it means Eddie is putting his heart on the line for him, without much of an indication of how Buck feels at all.

He can feel how hard he's smiling, and if it hadn't been for the door opening he might've done something about the confession then and there. But then Chris is yelling, "Bucky's here!" and he can hear Eddie's abuela laughing in the background, and he goes to meet them - lets his hand catch on Eddie's shoulder, first, lingering, before getting to the door.

"Hey, buddy!"

Chris laughs as Buck swings him around. "No one said you were coming!" he says excitedly.

"I decided to surprise your dad." He puts Chris down. "You wanna help me make him soup?"

"Yeah!"

Chris heads for the kitchen, and Buck straightens, face-to-face with Eddie's abuela. She's smiling.

"Edmundo is very lucky to have a man like you," she says, pulling his shoulder until he leans down far enough for her to kiss his cheek. "Chico dulce."

He glows at the praise, at the acknowledgement that people know how Eddie feels, apparently, and that they think Buck is a good choice.

It's a quiet night after that. Buck makes soup with Christopher's help, then gets both Diaz boys situated in the living room. Christopher has math homework so complicated it makes both their heads hurt, but they have more luck with history, which mostly turns into Buck re-enacting some of the more dramatic civil war battles and attempting a poor English accent. Eddie - who has pretty much stayed on the couch since dinner - watches them and smiles.

Buck puts Chris to bed on time, reads him a story. As he's turning off the light, Christopher mumbles, "Buck?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for taking care of Dad."

His heart swells. He leans down and kisses Chris's forehead. "Of course, kiddo. Sleep tight."

He leaves the door a crack open, with the hallway light spilling in, and goes back to the living room. Eddie sits up a little as he enters.

"About what I said before-" Eddie begins, his face worried and body tense beneath the blanket.

"Please don't take it back," Buck pleads.

Silence falls over both of them. Eddie stares at him, and Buck shuffles his feet around helplessly. Appearing small is hard to do when you're six foot two, but he's trying his best - it never worked with his dad, but it can't hurt to try.

"Buck," Eddie says quietly. "Come over here."

Buck obeys mindlessly, goes to the couch and folds down on it awkwardly. Eddie sits up - if Buck looks carefully, he can see that there are light tremors shaking his frame. Maybe the fever is breaking.

"I wasn't going to take it back," Eddie says gently. "I was going to apologise for blindsiding you, but I wouldn't ever take it back."

Buck opens his mouth, then shuts it. "Chimney was right," he realises aloud.

Eddie frowns. "Chimney?"

"Chim told me you loved me! And that that's why you were kissing me so often!"

Eddie smiles that patient smile of his. "Why else would I be doing it?"

Buck flounders. Is he seriously the last person to know about this? Why is it that everyone always knows these things before him?

Eddie laughs, then. "Buck," he says. "You look like someone killed your puppy."

"I'm dumb," Buck moans, sinking further into the couch.

"Hey." Eddie reaches out and takes Buck's face between his hands, sending an instant flush through him. "If I'm right, and you want this as well, then of course you didn't realise. Maybe it felt too good to be true. You're not dumb."

Buck blinks. "I want to kiss you," he says.

"You'll get sick," Eddie reminds him gently. "But if you stay the night, maybe tomorrow."

"Okay," Buck says, smiling. "I'll stay."

#buddie #9-1-1 buddie #evan buckley x eddie diaz #nibbles writes things

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imyourbuddie · 5 years

Note

Ok prompt time... can I please order a lusty kiss at a party, preferably with onlookers? Mmm thanks xx

(This got way longer than I anticipated. Such is my life, but these two idiots are so soft and I just cannot. Prompt List )

The one-eighteen Christmas party’s in full swing when Chim pulls out the bottle of spiced rum and waves it around like a little boy holding his favourite new toy on Christmas morning.

“Who’s ready for eggnog!” he yells, then runs into the kitchen with Maddie in tow.

“You know, you still have to work tomorrow morning,” Bobby shouts across the room and smiles. He’s the only sober person in the whole room, and Eddie wonders how hard it must be for him to watch while everyone else got shit faced in his living room.

Athena sits down in Bobby’s lap and kisses his cheek. “We’ll brew some strong coffee in the morning and you can pass out Advil by the door.” Bobby throws his head back and laughs, the sound contagious.

Eddie’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He turns on the screen to a text message from Carla. Behind her, Christopher—in his favourite Christmas jammies—waves from under his blankets.

Good night, daddy.

Eddie grins and takes a selfie with his tongue sticking out, then types out a reply.

Night mijo. Be good for Carla.

Eddie waits a little, but no response comes. He tucks his phone back into his pocket and sinks back into the couch, his eyes scanning the homey living room of Bobby and Athena’s house. He loves being here, loves the welcoming atmosphere and the decorations made with love. One day, he wants to give Christopher a home just like this.

In the background, soft jazz music fills every corner of the room. Eddie glances to his left and finds Buck and Hen’s heads bent over a cell phone. They’re giggling at something, then Buck throws his head back and laughs.

That laughter fills Eddie with more warmth than any amount of alcohol could. He’s only been with the one-eighteen for a few months, but his bond with the team and especially with Buck is undeniably genuine and iron clad. It’s hard to imagine his life before meeting these wonderful people, even harder to imagine a life before Buck. His Buck.

Chim and Maddie scurry back from the kitchen carrying a tray of steaming, mismatched mugs. “Eggnog for everyone, and a virgin one for Cap.” He hands Bobby an extra large Santa mug, then turns around and makes his round around the room.

Eddie picks a mug with snowflakes printed on the outside and takes a sip of the hot eggnog. And nearly coughs up a lung. “Christ, Chim,” he splutters, “how much rum is in this?”

“The perfect amount,” Chim replies with a cheeky grin and hands Buck a gigantic mug.

Buck takes it and sniffs the contents, then proceeds to chug the whole thing. Either he has no heat sensors in his mouth, or he’s too drunk to care, but Buck comes up for air only when his mug is empty, and his dopey grin grows wider. He turns back to whatever he’s watching with Hen, and Eddie watches as a deep blush crawl up his neck to sit prettily on the apple of his cheeks.

Dios. How does a man as thick and masuline as Buck look so goddamn pretty?

Eddie takes another sip of his drink, this time the rum hardly burning as it glides down his throat. How many drinks has Eddie had tonight? He can’t remember, and right now, he’s so contently buzzed he doesn’t care. What he wants to know is what on earth is Buck and Hen watching that’s got Buck blushing so hard?

Buck turns and catches Eddie’s eyes, and his face grows impossibly redder. Hen nudges Buck. Buck shakes his head, then nods as if he’s finally relenting to whatever Hen’s suggesting. They both get up, and Buck walks toward Eddie as hen heads for the iPod plugged into the speaker system. Eddie follows Buck’s every move until Buck’s standing over him, his hooded eyes—alight with blue fire—looking down at Eddie.

The familiar teasing notes of a song Eddie knows well replaces the jazz, and his skin burns at the melody. Eddie frowns as Buck takes his hands and drags him off the couch.

“Buck?” Eddie cocks a brow and shivers as the sweet voice of Alx Veliz drifts from the speakers.

Buck grins a lopsided grin and pulls Eddie into the middle of the living room. His face is so close Eddie can smell the rum and eggnog mixed with the beer he’s been drinking all night. One large hand roams down Eddie’s side, and Eddie can’t help his body reacting to the touch and the music.

Without another word, Buck pulls Eddie impossibly close, and begins a series of delicate steps that never left Eddie’s muscle memory. It’s the dance he performed years ago at a Kizomba festival that abuela took him to. How on earth did Buck find out, and how does he know all the steps?

Eddie’s pulled from his thoughts when Buck’s leg hooks between his, and Eddie’s airbourne for the span of a skipped heartbeat. Buck grins and leans close, his lips brushing Eddie’s temple, then he pulls away as the music jumps to the chorus.

Oh uh ohYo me acerqué a ella a little closerOh uh ohY bailamos a little slowerOh uh ohI’ve never felt this way beforeOh uh ohY me enamoré dancing kizomba

Buck picks up speed, his hips gyrating against Eddie, and his hands are everywhere, leading Eddie as they both float to the music. Eddie’s feet move as if they have a mind of their own, happy to follow Buck’s every step. This is insane. The last time Eddie danced like this was before he joined the army. He didn’t even know he could dance like this again, and yet here he is, in Buck’s arm, allowing the man full control as they glide to the beat.

Dancing KizombaY me enamoré dancing kizombaDancing KizombaY me enamoré dancing kizomba

The rest of the room fades, and as the music builds to a crescendo, Eddie’s breathless as Buck lifts him effortlessly through the air and plants him delicately on his feet. Buck twists, and Eddie follows as his body becomes one with Buck, his limbs an extension of Buck’s to be commanded and used as Buck sees fit. They move so well together despite this being their first time partnering, and Eddie’s chest aches with how much he misses this. Why did he stop dancing? Why did he think he had to give up this part of himself to be what he is today?

The song fades, and Eddie’s trapped in Buck’s intense gaze. There’s so much blue, and Eddie can’t help but lose himself in the uncharted galaxy behind those wide eyes. Their chests rise and fall in sync as they catch their breaths, and Eddie forgets where he is or how he got there. All that matters is the solid chest beneath his fingers and those plump, pink lips begging to be kissed.

So Eddie does.

Buck moans, the sound low and filthy and it shoots straight to Eddie’s achingly hard cock. Buck’s lips part, and his tongue flicks out against Eddie’s lips before pressing past the seam. The taste of sweet eggnog and spiced rum and hoppy beer mingle with the heady flavour that’s all Buck. It’s intoxicating and Eddie can’t get enough of it no matter how many times he tastes Buck’s mouth.

Eddie combs through Buck’s hair and tugs at the ends. Buck hisses, but the pain fuels his assault on Eddie’s mouth. He presses a leg between Eddie’s thighs and wraps his arms around Eddie’s torso until Eddie’s dangling off Buck’s thigh on his tippy toes.

Fuck.

Eddie’s lungs scream for air, but he ignores them. He grows lightheaded, but that only intensifies the taste of Buck as he licks into Eddie’s mouth. Eddie can spend an eternity here, his mouth locked on Buck’s, his cock throbbing as Buck’s thigh grind into him. Buck’s arms clasped so tightly around him not even a dust mote can get between them.

Somewhere behind him, a series of whistles in varying degrees of intensity and clapping drag Eddie back to Earth. He pulls back, panting, and swallows at the dazed, kiss-drunk look on Buck’s face. His lips are even pinker than normal, and the way they glisten in the soft light makes Eddie want to taste them again. And again. And again.

“Okay, Chim,” Maddie says behind them, “just how much rum did you put in that eggnog?”

Chim chuckles. “The perfect amount, like I said.”

“All right, you two,” Athena says, “break it up, or at least wait until I set up the guest room with fresh sheets.”

Eddie takes a shake step back, and he’s sure the blush on his face matches that on Buck’s. “Where did you—how did you know about this song and this dance?”

Buck grips the back of his neck and grins sheepishly. “I, um, Googled you. And that popped up on YouTube. I loved it so much I learned it…”

“You what?” Eddie blinks. “Why?”

“Because, it’s what I do, I Google everything.”

“Did you Google me?” Chim asks.

Buck gives him a sideways glance. “No? Maybe?”

The whole room erupts in laughter, and Eddie shakes his head and drags Buck down onto the couch with him. They snuggle up, and Chim comes by with a second round of eggnog. Eddie doesn’t even hesitate before accepting a second mug. The night’s young, and he doesn’t have to be at work until late afternoon.

He waits until everyone’s got a drink in hand, then raises his mug. “A toast, to family.”

“Aye. To family.”

And Eddie’s chest swells as he gulps down his eggnog.

Prompt List

Song they danced to

#Buck and Eddie dances the kizomba #lusty kiss with a crowd #eddie waxes way too much poetry about buck #it's me. im eddie #Imyourbuddie prompt fill #buddie #buck x eddie #i know im slow but send a prompt if you'd like #i promise to get to it #go listen to the song it's so pretty #!!!!!#evan buckley #eddie diaz #the 118

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dickd0c · 4 years

Text

STRIKE

CHAPTER SEVEN — “the winner”

It was nighttime, and still nothing. Nic had been so sure that her tiny little outfit would push at least one of them towards her, but they had all kept a respectful distance from her.

Trying not to show her annoyance on her face, Nic walked into the living room where everyone was getting ready to watch a movie. Well, everyone except Alpha.

"I don't know what he's doing up in his room, I thought he'd love this movie," Nic heard Tank say.

"What are we watching?" Nic asked, sitting down on the sofa and looking up at the people around her.

Athena smirked slightly, making Nic confused. "Oh, you'll see soon enough." She and Riot sat themselves down on the ground in front of the loveseat as Tank sat down beside Nic.

Though the loveseat had plenty of room, Nic found herself thigh-to-thigh with him. She definitely didn't mind, it was the most contact she'd had with any of them in a while. As Tank pressed a button on the remote, the movie began playing, showing the usual rating and useless stuff. A few seconds in, Nic heard footsteps and turned her head to see Alpha walk in and sit down on the armchair.

Soon enough, the screen transitioned into the beginning of the movie. Nic sat there for a few moments, watching the scene unfold, trying to figure out which movie was playing. Then the title came onto the screen: 365 Days.

Nic's jaw dropped.

She'd never watched this movie before, no, but she had read the book. As the title faded away, Nic squeezed her legs together in anticipation. She remembered the first time she read 365 Days. She wished she could experience it for the first time again. It was the most erotic novel she had ever laid hands on, and it constantly made her wish that she could experience those same things in real life.

In front of her, Athena and Riot exchanged amused glances, though Nic wasn't paying attention.

As the beginning of the movie progressed, Nic leaned over the side of the loveseat to the basket where they kept all the blankets. She grabbed one and threw it over her legs. She wasn't necessarily cold, no, but she didn't want people to see her rubbing her legs together like that.

Next to her, Tank slid under the blanket so they were sharing.

When the scene shifted to Laura and Massimo at the airport, Nic tightened up. She knew exactly which scene this was—after all, she had read it over and over. Nervous, her foot started tapping at a rapid face. Why, oh why out of all the movies in the world did they choose this one? Nic watched Massimo bind Laura's hands with his belt and shrunk down in the loveseat. She could feel Tank's dark blue eyes turn to watch her, but refused to make eye contact with him. In fact, she was doing her very hardest not to even glance at any of the other people in the room.

Nic shivered as she watched the man place a blindfold over the woman's eyes. She wondered what the people in this room would do to her if she was blindfolded.

When the man slid his fingers inside the woman, Nic couldn't help it anymore. Slowly one of her hands slipped to her crotch. As quietly as she could, she unbuttoned the shorts and slid the zipper down. As the man on the screen finger fucked the woman, Nic slipped two fingers inside her panties and began rubbing herself.

A hand fell on her thigh. Nic froze, feeling Tank's gaze on her, before she picked his hand up with hers and moved it to her unbuttoned shorts.

Tank wasted no time. Without a word and with barely a sound (at this point Nic was grateful that the TV volume was on full blast), he positioned them so that they were half-laying down on the loveseat, Nic on top of Tank with her back to his chest. The girl bit her lip as his long fingers slipped below the blanket, below her shorts, below her panties. A soft gasp escaped her lips when his fingers dipped into her dripping pussy, moving back up to gently rub her clit. His other hand moved up to her face, clamping over her mouth to keep her quiet.

Nic's eyes fell to the television, watching the man finger the tied up woman. She started shaking as Tank's fingers pushed down hard on her sensitive clit, but his strong arms kept her in place. He then slipped a finger into her pussy, followed by another one. His pace started out slow but sped up as his fingers moved in and out of her body, the noise of his fingers against her wet heat apparent even over the moaning coming from the screen.

Nic bit the hand that was stopping her from moaning as Tank's palm rubbed harshly against her clit with his each and every movement. Her eyes widened when she felt his mouth fall against her neck, leaving small bruises on the back and her shoulder.

With her eyes open, Nic caught sight of Alpha. His grey eyes were on the blanket where he could see Tank's hand moving in and out of Nic. There was a small smirk on his face. Nic's eyes dropped to Alpha's crotch, where he had casually placed a pillow. When she looked back up at his eyes, they made eye contact.

Right then, Nic's orgasm came onto her in waves. She shook on top of Tank as he rubbed her clit harshly, moaning loud enough even with his hand on top of her mouth, and squirted all over Tank's other hand as the orgasm finally ended.

As Nic caught her breath, fully aware of the fact that everyone in the room probably knew what just happened, Tank whispered in her ear.

"Your room. Now."

Shaking as she put her weight on her legs, Nic stumbled her way to her room, throwing the door open and throwing herself onto her bed. She pulled her shorts all the way off of her legs when just moments later Tank came through the door as well. He locked it behind himself before practically pouncing on top of her.

Nic reached to touch his face, but he simply took her hands and pinned them above her head. Tank's blue eyes skimmed over her face, resting on her lips.

"You put those pretty little lips to good use that day," he said in a low voice, taking Nic's bottom lip in his teeth and pulling on it.

Nic whimpered, straining her hands against Tank's stronger one, wishing she could touch him or herself.

"You think you can do it again?" he asked, pushing his clothed erection against her hip.

Nic nodded, and in an instant she was kneeling in front of a standing Tank. Excited, she used her fingers to pull his pants and briefs down, inhaling sharply as his cock nearly slapped her in the face. Every single time she saw it, she was surprised at its length all over again.

Tank reached down for Nic's hair, gathering it as if he was going to tie it into a ponytail, but the twisting it harshly around his hand. Nic cried out as he tugged on her hair, but she was muffled when he suddenly pushed her onto his cock. The girl gagged as the tip hit the back of her throat, but she got to work quickly on moving up and down on his length with his help. Nic snuck one hand around Tank's body, placing it on his ass and giving him a squeeze. This only made him push her head onto him harder and faster.

Tank's groans mixed with the moans coming from the television in the living room. "Fuck," he groaned, cumming in the back of Nic's throat. With his hand on her hair, he yanked her up.

Nic gasped at the sudden movement, swallowing down the cum as she turned her head nearly all the way upwards to look at Tank.

"I win," he sneered, using his free hand to slip the straps of Nic's tank top off of her shoulder.

"What do you mean?" Nic asked, her voice shaking.

"Athena, Riot, and I had a bet going. None of us came onto you because we were waiting to see who you'd fuck first." Tank yanked on her hair again, making her throw her head back with a gasp. He bent down to place butterfly kisses all over her jawline, leaving a few small bites here and there. "And I won."

Nic bit her lip as Tank went to work on her neck, wondering how she felt about their bet. It was kinda hot, she had to admit, but it made her feel like she was just their sex doll. When Tank tilted her head back so she could look at him, she saw the hungry look in his eyes. She didn't have to be able to read his mind to know that he was thinking about all the ways he could destroy her.

Maybe she didn't mind being their sex doll.

While Nic was still standing, Tank all of a sudden knelt to the ground. Nic looked down at him in confusion as he positioned himself between her legs, forcing them to open a little wider. He pulled her soaked panties down, making Nic stiffen at the cold air biting at her most sensitive bits. Without warning, Tank's mouth was latched to her pussy.

Nic gasped, grabbing onto Tank's hair for dear life. If it weren't for his strong hands on her legs, she probably would have fallen over. The way his tongue lapped at her thick juices made her weak in the legs. Her hands still on his head, she grinded down onto his mouth, releasing her moans into the air.

"Fuck!" she yelled as Tank pressed on her clit with his tongue. Her clit was already hypersensitive from the abuse it got from him just a bit before, so when he played with it with his mouth, it sent the most exhilarating waves of pleasure and pain up her body.

As Tank's tongue went back to work on her dripping hole, Nic moved a shaky hand from his head to her pussy, rubbing her clit around in circles. The girl curled her toes, shaking from being unable to hold herself up while Tank attacked her pussy. With several loud moans, Nic's whole body began quivering as her second orgasm of the day rushed through her.

Tank kept going, prolonging the orgasm and even continuing to lick her up after it was over. Nic relaxed her legs and closed her eyes as his tongue lapped up her dripping remains, frowning when he finally pulled away. As he stood up, he pulled her panties back up to cover her.

Nic stood there like that, eyes closed, for a few moments before she finally pried them open. When she looked around, Tank was gone and she could hear his laughter in the living room.

With a sigh and a smile, Nic turned her light off and jumped onto her bed. Finally, the streak was broken.

#tank #riot #alpha #athena #specop #specops #specopsfic #specop fic #specopfic #anonymous #fanfic #fanfiction #smut

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