#my brain is not super accommodating to sexy thoughts atm

[hippolotamus]

Fuck It Friday

Tagged by @disasterbuckdiaz @wikiangela @daffi-990 @steadfastsaturnsrings ... in true Fuck It spirit this is neither on Friday or very PG. I was very inspired by my wife @disasterbuckdiaz's snippet and this kinda spilled out.

No pressure tagging @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @giddyupbuck @stereopticons @monsterrae1 @spotsandsocks @honestlydarkprincess @eddiediaztho @thewolvesof1998 @forthewolves @chaosandwolves @wildlife4life @spaceprincessem @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @heartshapedvows @loserdiaz @watchyourbuck @your-catfish-friend @ladydorian05 @statueinthestone @buddierights @911onabc @jesuisici33 @pirrusstuff @cowboy-buddie if you wanna 😘

“You’re overthinking again. If you want to – and I’m pretty sure you do,” Eddie whispers, tracing his thumb along Buck’s lower lip, “I can help with that.” 

Eddie’s fingers trace along Buck’s jawline until they settle on his shoulder where they fit perfectly, his thumb nestled into the divot of Buck’s collarbone. A space that may as well have been marked Property of Eddie Diaz when Buck was born. 

“Y-you can?” Buck’s eyelids flutter closed, but he quickly forces them open again, not wanting to miss anything Eddie’s doing. 

Eddie presses a featherlight kiss to the corner of Buck’s mouth, first one side then the other, another to his cheekbone, until finally he’s right next to Buck’s ear, his voice low and sweet like the symphony of chirping grasshoppers and glowing fireflies in summer. “You know I can, sweetheart. Because I know you, and what you need right now. How your beautiful brain is so jumbled with thoughts you don’t know which one to turn to next. How you’re wishing they would all disappear. How badly you want someone else to take control. Because you could distract yourself, but you and I both know it wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying.” 

Eddie kisses the hinge of Buck’s jaw, sending a shower of sparks racing down his spine, chasing after the offer Eddie’s delivering on a silver platter. “But I need you to tell me. Do you think you can do that, baby?” 

“F-fuck, Eddie. Yeah. Yes.”

“Yes?” Eddie purrs. “Yes, what? Yes, you can tell me what you need? Yes, you want me to take you apart and put you back together? Or yes, you want me to fuck you so thoroughly you don’t remember your own name?”

Jesus Christ. “All of that, Eds. God, everything. Want everything with you,” Buck babbles. 

Eddie pulls him in for a devastating, earth shattering kiss that would make Buck weak in the knees if he wasn’t already. His lips part when Eddie’s tongue teases at the seam, letting their tongues slide together. But then Eddie tears himself away and Buck whines, trying to chase after him. 

“Shhh, shh, shh. Just wait, it’s okay.” Eddie strokes Buck’s cheek, soothing his impatience. “Can you be a good boy for me?”

The words hit Buck with a force heavier than a tsunami wave, more intense than a bolt of lightning. He can’t help the way he immediately feels gooey and pliant, ready to obey. 

“Yes, sir. S’good. Can be so good.” Buck preens at the way Eddie’s breath hitches on the word sir. He feels like he’s been infused with sunshine and starlight, so happy he’s done something to please Eddie.

“Stand still. Right here. No matter what, okay? Not a muscle unless I tell you.” 

Buck nods eagerly.

“Words, darlin’.” Eddie’s drawl coats every syllable, unexpected but reassuring, and Buck wants to fucking live in it. Wants to wrap the honeyed intonation around himself like a second skin and never leave. “I need words.”

“Yes, sir. Won’t move. Promise.” 

Eddie hums in delight, taking a step back, just enough to create a pocket of space. He gathers the hem of Buck’s polo and lifts, silently commanding Buck to follow. Buck does, willingly, raising his arms for Eddie to complete his task. Eddie tosses it to the side then bites the tip of his thumb, walking in a slow circle, surveying. 

Buck casually wonders if this is how sculptures feel. Pieces put out in the world for public consumption. He would gladly stand here as long as Eddie wants him to, would allow Eddie to caress and carve and smooth him into an ideal shape.  

The sound of Eddie’s footsteps stop somewhere behind him, replaced by fingers fidgeting with buttons that make a quiet clack when the shirt hits the floor. Then there is only a maddening, heavy silence, leaving no indication of how close Eddie might be. Buck can’t detect his breathing, but knows Eddie – his partner – is still there. 

Sweet relief washes over him as Eddie wraps himself around Buck, hands sliding over his pecs and down the ridge of his abs, a blazing line of heat where Eddie’s chest presses against his back. Buck imagines, if he were to look, their bare skin would glow everywhere it touches. Two celestial beings burning bright and hot like stars in the night sky. 

Silent signals traverse between them like radio waves. Communications in the form of every one of Eddie’s touches and breaths fanning across the line of his neck, the shell of his ear, the point where the two meet. It’s something Buck supposes was inevitable. Eddie knows him in every other way. It’s not impossible to believe he knows this too. That Eddie would already be attuned to the ways Buck’s body reacts, the precise frequency of how he craves Eddie. Maybe it’s more obvious than Buck suspects. An aura of overwhelm and too much and too in his head that manifests as a primal, visceral need to submit. He wouldn’t be surprised to learn it radiates off of him in shades of sage, twilight, silver and violet. 

Eddie’s fingers skim outward, along the vee of Buck’s torso, over his wrists, trailing through coarse arm hair, up to the bend of Buck’s elbows. Buck wants to turn around, wants to capture Eddie’s mouth in a filthy kiss, wants to see the molten desire turning chocolate brown irises to nearly pure black. But that’s not what Eddie told him to do. Eddie had very specific instructions. And Buck is rather inclined to listen. He told Eddie he would be good for him. And he will. He wants to, more than anything. 

“Mmhmm,” Eddie hums, planting kisses like tiny flowers along the line of Buck’s shoulders. As if Buck is a wild, abandoned patch of earth that Eddie believes can grow something beautiful and transformative. Because, to Buck, Eddie couldn’t do anything less. He would never be capable of making something unsightly or unpleasant, even with Buck as a starting point.