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#but i like it better as its own thing

steddie-as-they-come · 6 months

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Eddie's hanging out in Family Video during Steve and Robin's shift, just being a general nuisance, when it begins.

The other two are talking in low voices in the back corner, discussing something Eddie can't hear. Normally he'd get up and go over there, insert himself into the conversation, command their attention, but he's too busy judgmentally rifling through Family Video's paltry horror movie supply to care that much.

He sneaks a glance over, and then he sees it.

Steve presses a kiss to Robin's forehead.

Eddie has to drop the tape he's holding before he does something stupid like break it out of jealousy.

And he knows, okay, he's heard it no less than eight million times, they're platonic with a capital P. That doesn't stop the little green monster in his chest from rearing its head.

It doesn't stop there, either. Eddie starts to see Steve kiss the rest of the Party. Simple little forehead kisses and temple kisses and kisses on the crowns of their heads, like he's their parent, which, well, he is. He does it when Dustin needs comfort. He slings an arm around Lucas and pulls him close for a kiss on the temple when Lucas makes a particularly good shot for basketball. He does it to Max, on one of her bad days. He even does it to Mike absentmindedly, who makes a feral screech like an angry cat before everyone starts to laugh at him. And of course, he and Robin are always all over each other.

But he won't kiss Eddie.

It's stupid that he expects it. They don't know each other. Steve's been with this group, been saving them from monsters and scientists and torturers for forever.

Eddie still wants in on it. If only to indulge his pathetic little crush on the former King of Hawkins High.

One night, Steve hosts a movie night, and Dustin invites Eddie along. He goes, because of course he does, and takes a seat on the end of the couch as Steve puts in the tape.

Eddie immediately forgets what the movie is, because Steve sits down next to him. His entire brain is a fuzzy kind of static that only intensifies when Steve scoots closer.

"Sorry," is the first word Eddie registers out of Steve's mouth, and he hastily tries to collect his thoughts. Steve moves closer, which doesn't help.

He peers around Steve and sees the kids all trying to squish onto the couch. "Scoot over, Eddie!" Mike shouts, and Eddie moves as close as he can to the arm of the couch. Steve follows, arm around him and thighs pressed close together.

Okay, then. Eddie can die happily tonight, apparently.

Something jumps at the screen, and Steve flinches.

Eddie learns a new thing about Steve that night. Apparently, when Steve gets frightened, he pulls everyone within reach towards him, like he's trying to shield them with his body. Eddie finds himself hugged to Steve's chest and has to employ breathing exercises to get rid of his new little...problem.

He somehow makes it through the movie without spontaneously combusting, a feat nothing short of a miracle. The kids run to the kitchen and Eddie can hear Dustin pick up the phone and say, "Hello, Paulie's Pizza?"

Steve sighs and gets up. "I did not say they could order pizza," he grumbles. He extends his hand to Eddie, and after a second of bewildered staring, Eddie manages to grab it and pull himself to standing.

Robin's sitting on the couch still (she had been on the other side of Steve), and she watches this interaction with an unreadable expression on her face.

Well, unreadable to Eddie, anyway. Steve and Robin proceed to have an entire conversation with just facial expressions, and Eddie is left in the dark about it.

Steve finally rolls his eyes and stalks into the kitchen. He distracts Dustin with a kiss on the top of his head, then steals the phone. "Hi, yeah," he says, and Eddie recognizes that voice as his King-Steve-takes-what-he-wants voice. "No, that's right. Two medium pepperoni pizzas and a side of garlic knots, yep."

He listens, then says, "I'll be over to pick it up," then places the phone back on the receiver with a click.

"I'm going to get the food." he announces to the room at large. "Eddie, you coming?"

"Sure?" Eddie slings his leather jacket from the back of one of the kitchen table chairs and slides his sneakers on.

The drive is quiet. Multiple times, it looks like Steve wants to say something, but he never does. When the two of them walk in to get the pizza, Steve grabs both boxes. "Can you get the door, Eds?"

Eddie wants to tease him about the new nickname, but he chooses not to, opting instead to nod and say, "Sure thing, Stevie." He pulls open the glass door and says, with a mock bow and a grand gesture, "Your majesty."

Steve rolls his eyes. "Thanks." He (finally!!) goes to kiss Eddie.

However, Eddie is not as short as the kids (and Robin) who Steve normally does this to. Eddie's pretty sure the kiss is supposed to land on his forehead.

It lands on his mouth.

Pretty shoddy kiss, as it were. Mostly, Steve kisses the corner of Eddie's mouth.

Both of their faces burn red. If not for Steve's sports-playing, monster-killing reflexes, the pizzas would be on the ground right now.

"Sorry!" Steve says, hurrying out to his car and tossing the food in the backseat. "Sorry, I don't know what I was thinking."

Eddie slides into the passenger seat. "Finally!" he says.

"What?"

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Steve, I've been the only one who you haven't been bestowing kisses upon for weeks now. Sorry if I'm excited to be included in the group."

Steve starts the car. "But...those are all platonic kisses."

Eddie scoffs. "What, and kissing me wouldn't be?"

Steve is silent.

"REALLY?" Eddie yells. "Wait, wait-" He leans over the center console. "Steve Harrington, if you wanted a kiss, a romantic kiss, you could have told me before cuddling with me all night!"

Steve sighs. "Fine. Eddie Munson, I'm going to kiss you romantically."

And he leans in.

Eddie's obsessed with the curve and dip of Steve's mouth against his. He greedily cups his hand against Steve's face, his other hand propped up against the center console. Steve tastes like the soda he was drinking earlier, mixed with something richer and deeper that's wholly, entirely Steve.

They break apart at a small crackle from Steve's inner pocket.

"Henderson," Steve says exasperatedly. "That kid is so damn impatient."

"Steve!" Dustin's voice comes from the walkie Steve pulls out. "Have you gotten the pizza yet?"

"Yes, you little shit, we're coming back now." Steve sighs. "Oh! Henderson, find Robin. Tell her it happened."

Eddie shoots Steve a confused look, but Steve just holds up a placating hand, a slight smile on his face.

"OH MY GOD STEVE!" comes Robin's voice on the walkie. "HELL YEAH!"

Steve cackles and leans back in to kiss Eddie, who happily accepts.

#truth be told i could have put this in the living hawkins au #but i like it better as its own thing #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic

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magicaltimelady44 · 5 months

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so like. if anyone else, like me, still has the occasional fanfic they follow on fanfiction.net, and hasn't been getting the update emails for the longest time and was wondering if ti meant the site is on its last legs

no they've done something stupid as fuck

you have to opt back in to getting the emails/notifications of new chapters every six months, because they automatically assume you don't want to know when the fics you followed for the updates have updated

#for fucks saaaaaaake #now i have to go back thorugh all the fics i follow to see if they've updated in the last like year #ffn why are you doing this #this is the shit that drives ppl to ao3 #and for the record i don't like ao3 purely because somehow ffn still has the better accessible reading options on its base site #without requiring you to log in and find [or code your own] site skin. it's just on the base site.#dark/light mode and increasing text size on a fanfic archive should not be a logged-in members-only coding-required thing

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cemeterything · 1 year

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does anyone else ever like. edit and clarify their own wording when talking to themself. like "nah actually that sentence was mid, let's take it from the top" or "and by [word/phrase i just used] i mean [explanation], not [alternative interpretation that wasn't what i meant, even though i know what i meant because i'm talking to myself]" or am i just a total weirdo.

#🐉#its not like i think im gonna be arrested for thought crimes is the thing. i just dont like my own inner dialogue being shitty to #listen to and converse with. so im like. hmm but what if there was a better way of saying this.

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ganondoodle · 21 days

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you know, i had a totk thought (uh oh)

soemthign thats really bothering me about the whole "actually, ganondorf didnt like the guy appearing out of nowhere marrying a hylian and just saying yep das our kingdom now and we can mine it barren under your nose and also i got laserbeam pebbles that i totally wont ever use on anyone come join me or die just bc of all of that but mainly bc the guy brought some weird tech with him that he dont like" - thing is that ......... we see almost not a single tech thing in the past (and for that matter see nothing of the oh so perfect and peaceful paradise hyrule was before big evil desert man didnt want to join our paradise- like what is the point about making the whole point of the game be -we need to restore hyrule to this paradise it once was- when you dont even see it or get to care about anything of it)

it might sound like a weird hangup but no really, the most we see is like two servant constructs, thats it, when they 'prepare for war' im pretty sure all you see is some lightly dressed ( ... is it just me or does their whole get up look alot like native american/other indingenous people too ... i still dont know how to feel about that- kinda adjacent to some of the sonau armor, the battery one i think??, also having that look...) hylians with spears, where the heck is all that tech?? is it implied to be all down in the mines hollowing out the underground (for no real reason either bc .... theres only two sonau left and no one else seems to want use nor need the tech otherwise there should have been more traces or soemthing left of it -unless it all just magically appeared out of nowhere in mostly prime condition while all shiekah tech jsut vaporized for bs non reasons just for it to be in tha game but oh dont you see its always been there lmao- so whats the point really????)

or up in the sky as most battle constructs are and they cant get them down in time bc *gestures vaguely*

or is it intentionally kept out of view bc idk seeing an army of robots on raurus side he can send out on a whim might not make him look as oh so good and perfect as they want him to look when he already got laserbeam pebbles (most of which hes been hoarding until ONE falls into hands not under his control) ?? like it just ... feels weird?? so many battle constructs that can even be a threat to link are jsut fully functioning strolling around in the present still, why wouldnt you want to use any of them to battle gan and if they DID why wouldnt you show that (no the 3 second unicorn cutscene doesnt count bc its just .. gan and his monsters isnt it) ?? (also ... why isnt there a big like battle ground , like fine you dont have to animate an army of monsters and robots clashing but... wouldnt it be cool to have you discover a giant flat plain in the underground (that magically got put under ground like gan just decided to stroll down there to get sealed lol) and its the only mostly empty field in the game littered with thousands of monster bones and dead constructs intermingled?? just to give it all a bit of weight?? evidence that it happened?? cool ass discovery????)

(also also i cannot let go of ganondorf apparently being sooooo anti tech but then clamgan uses the shiekah stuff??? shouldnt he also be against that then or is that suddendly fine bc- oh woops sorry, forgot clamgan is actually just something, not connected to gan at all actually, i mean why else would miasma turn into malice only to turn into miasma again haha none of that is connected actually what is a calamity anyway? also im sorry to bring this up again but i just cannot let go of the ppl in the present being so obsessed with using sonau tech in every part of their life now- they just lived through an apocalypse of a barely understood strange tech but CLEARLY this other even less understood strang tech is not dangerous at all lets make CARS OUT OF IT and what theres no danger in miasma and that tech existing at the same time LIKE SOMETHING ELSE BEFORE THAT IDK SEEMS LIKE A BAD COMBO--- oh sorry forgot that ceased to exist in both the world and peoples minds for *gestures vaguely* plot reasons- why why why are monsters mining the sonanium?? they dont even work with the yiga no that is also completely disconnected we dont wanna draw and interesting connections after all- whats the point if it means nothing but to be a loot box for the player-- actually, so much of totk is just a so built around throwing you into a box of toys with no substance to it- listen i know games are kinda like toys but if it doesnt make sense and offers you nothing interesting to think about even slightly whAT IS THE POINT)

#ganondoodles talks #zelda #ganondoodles rants #totk #like not to make myself sound like a better writer ............ BUT #in my rewrite rauru does that also to suck the life out of the desert more and more to force the gerudo to be depended on their trade #to both pressure them and force them better into submission #bc of the whole plot point (in my rewrite) that rauru came from the underground with his dying people bc they discovered warnings of old #about the king of a deserts nation becoming a horrible world destryoing monster and so plotting with sonia to get gan secretly sealed #and by doing that rauru seals his own fate (rauru dies and its his stone that gets taken) like the fairytale prophecy thing making people-#-do exactly what leads to it while trying to avoid it #bc gan finds out and plots against it #-ANYWAY #when i see other people talk i need to talk again even if i make little sense

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buddie-buddie · 10 days

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you'll find that you were never not mine

5.1k - explicit - buck x tommy - read on ao3

In his thirty two trips around the sun, Buck has done plenty of things he’s proud of. He’s run headfirst into burning buildings. He’s saved lives. He’s reunited with his sister and survived being crushed by a ladder truck and been named the legal guardian of the coolest kid in the world.

He’s felt pride before. But never like this.

This is different. It’s intoxicating and addicting and everything Buck never realized he could have. Everything Buck never realized he deserved. Not until now.

Not until Tommy.

The swell of pride behind his ribs, the warmth flooding his chest and beating through his body, it isn’t foreign, not entirely. But he’s never felt it all quite like this. It’s never consumed him like this. It’s never been so heady, so dizzying, so absolutely electrifying. He wants to bottle it up and carry it around in his pocket and take hits from it when no one is looking.

It’s a high he’d gladly spend the rest of his life chasing, if he could only be so lucky.

Never before has he felt so alive, so proud and worthy and good. There’s a deep, intoxicating pleasure to it, tiny bursts of ecstasy skittering across his skin and dancing up his spine as he looks down at Tommy.

Tommy, who’s lying beneath him, with his eyes sparkling and a wild, sated grin stretching across his face. His chest heaves as he catches his breath, his heart hammering beneath kiss-bitten, come-covered skin. He has one hand still fisted in the sheets, the other splayed across Buck’s chest.

“C’mere,” Tommy says, voice rough and heavy. He sounds absolutely destroyed. And that alone sends sparks flying across Buck’s skin, electricity crackling behind his chest as he realizes it was because of him. He did that.

The pride flares in his chest as he lets Tommy pull him in for a filthy, open-mouthed kiss.

“S’that good?” Buck mumbles against Tommy’s mouth.

Tommy pulls back, just enough to give Buck a look of absolute bewilderment. “Was that good?” he echoes, eyes wide. “I haven’t come that hard in–– I don’t even know. I–Yeah,” he says, huffing out an incredulous laugh. “Yeah, Evan. It was good.”

Buck’s breath catches in his throat, pride swelling in his chest as Tommy’s praise sets him ablaze. As does the way he calls him Evan. A name Buck usually hated now makes warmth bloom behind his ribs when it falls from Tommy’s lips.

Buck can always hear the smile behind it, can feel the fondness as it settles over him, grounding him in a way that still feels just as exciting as the very first time.

Buck just…. well, he never corrected him. He’s usually pretty quick to ask people to call him Buck, but for some reason he never did when it came to Tommy. Buck used to think that his nickname was reserved for the people who know him, but then along came Tommy with his sparkly eyes and his adorable nose scrunches and his kind heart and his fingers beneath Buck’s chin and well– Buck is starting to think maybe Tommy knows him better than he thinks.

It was only a month ago that Tommy had kissed him and his world exploded. Everything was suddenly a little bit brighter, a little bit warmer. Nothing had changed, per se, and yet everything was better. So much better.

It reminds Buck of that part in the Wizard of Oz when Dorothy steps into technicolor. When the sepia tones disappear and there’s nothing but bright, beautiful color. It’s not that Buck’s life before this was bad. It was just… sepia toned. And now that he’s had a taste of technicolor, he can’t believe he ever lived without it.

He’d be lying if he said part of him doesn’t mourn the fact that it took him three decades to get here. But now that he’s arrived? Well, he’s making up for lost time.

Tommy pulls Buck back in for another kiss, this one softer and sweeter than the one before it. And yet, it still sends the same zip of pleasure up Buck’s spine, the same rush of desire thrumming beneath his skin.

Initially, Buck thought that the night Tommy kissed him for the first time was the moment when all the pieces clicked into place. But he was quick to realize that wasn’t the case at all. It wasn’t all the pieces that night, not really. More like it was the edges of the puzzle, the corner pieces that guide the rest of the journey. It was the moment when you press the edges together and have a real perimeter, and for the first time, it all feels possible. It was the realization that something will come of all the jumbled up pieces scattered in front of you. Something real. Something beautiful.

And the more time he spends with Tommy, the more the pieces fall into place.

A few days after their coffee date, Tommy had taken him for a flying lesson– the first of many, he had promised. The flying was fun, not to mention how hot it was having a front-row seat to watch Tommy in his element, this time with permission to stare. But the best part of the day was when they left the airstrip and Tommy reached down and took Buck’s hand in his.

They walked to Tommy’s car hand in hand, and Buck didn’t miss the way his mind quieted the second Tommy’s fingers intertwined with his own. Being with Tommy settled something deep inside of Buck, it eased his mind and quieted the noise he hadn’t realized had once been so loud– not until Tommy smiled at him and suddenly, everything wasn’t so loud anymore. Everything wasn’t so hard anymore.

Buck likes being with Tommy. He likes the weight of Tommy’s hand in his and the brush of his stubble against his chin. He likes the feel of Tommy’s lips on his and the way his skin sparks each time they touch. He likes being on the receiving end of raised eyebrows and nose scrunches and a quiet, fond, “Evan.” He likes it all.

Never before has Buck been in a relationship where he’s felt so good and settled and safe. Which isn’t to say he felt unsafe with any of his exes. It’s just…. it’s different with Tommy. Buck feels safe to explore, safe to not know things, safe to not be the guy with the answers all the time. Safe to figure out who he is, what he wants, what he likes. Safe to just be.

He feels safe with Tommy. Proud, too. God, he’s so fucking proud to be with Tommy.

He still has hard days— occupational hazard, and all. But even when his days are hard, they’re still good. Any day with Tommy is good.

Today, though? Today is the best of them all.

Today, Buck has Tommy in his bed. Laid out beneath him like a fucking god, looking like he’s been cut from marble and sent from the heavens just for Buck. He’s perfect, so perfect, with his kiss-swollen lips and lust-blown eyes and bruises starting to bloom beneath the trail of dark hair leading down his chest.

Buck swears he’s dreaming. It would make it the longest, most vivid dream he’s ever had, but it’s the only explanation. There’s no way a human being can feel this good– there’s just no fucking way. He must have the flu– or maybe that nasty virus Eddie had mentioned was going around Christopher’s class– and his temperature’s climbed so high that he’s started hallucinating. There’s just no way this is real life.

It’s not like Buck is a stranger to sex. Kind of the opposite, actually. He’s had his fair share of it, all of which was blown clear out of the water the first time Tommy got his hands on him. It’s not that it was necessarily bad with any of his exes. Sex with Tommy is just… better. Much like everything else with Tommy is revealing itself to be.

At first, Buck thought it was the newness of it all. Like there was a honeymoon phase of sorts, something that would vanish the next time he found himself lucky enough to be in bed with Tommy. He wondered if it would pop suddenly like a balloon that’s floated too high, or if it would slowly ebb away like the tide from the shore, gone before he realized it was. Or maybe it would melt like the wings of Icarus from flying too close to the bright, dazzling radiance that is Tommy Kinard, and he’d come crashing down, cushioned only by the memories of what they once had.

Except it didn’t. It didn’t pop, didn’t ebb. It hasn’t melted, or vanished, or even dimmed for so much as a fleeting moment. It’s been a month since the first time they got their hands on each other, and it’s still just as electric, just as intoxicating.

In fact, it’s only gotten better.

Granted, the first time was a rush of hungry kisses and frantic grinding and come-stained jeans against the door of Buck’s loft. So really, it was only up from there.

The second time, Tommy got his mouth on Buck and Buck swore he was next in line to meet Jesus. There was the time that Tommy had jerked them off together, both of them in one hand, as if that wasn’t the single hottest thing Buck had ever experienced. And the time Tommy blew him in the shower and then stood up and stripped his own cock until he came on Buck’s abs with a shout. And then there was today. Today happened to be the first time Buck got Tommy off all by himself, and it was… transformative.

Buck has never, in all his life, known pride quite like he has today.

Earlier, they had stumbled into Buck’s loft after dinner at his favorite place around the corner, barely through the door before they were on each other, swapping heavy, frenzied kisses.

“Upstairs,” Buck had breathed, punctuating his request with a kiss. “Please.”

“So polite,” Tommy hummed, and Buck could feel his lips stretching into a grin beneath his. He followed Buck up the stairs, their fingers laced together the entire time. Buck dropped backwards onto the mattress, fisting his hands in the lapels of Tommy’s jacket and pulling him down with him.

They made out for a while, grinding and rutting against each other fully clothed like teenagers, rather than two thirty-something men with all the time and space and freedom to take each other apart properly.

Tommy pulled away just long enough to tug off his jacket and toss it on the floor behind him. Buck whined at the momentary loss of touch, chasing after it with an arch of his back that had Tommy swearing beneath his breath before diving back in and kissing Buck again.

“You need to use your words, baby,” Tommy said between kisses, his voice low and breathy in a way that had heat zipping up Buck’s spine. Tommy’s mouth trailed a line of hot kisses across Buck’s jaw and down his neck, nosing at his pulse point and relishing in the way doing so made Buck’s breath catch in his throat. The pet name lit him up, made him feel warm and sparkly all over, like live wires were crackling beneath his skin and setting him on fire in the very best way.

It was exhilarating and absolutely intoxicating, and Buck wanted to live the rest of his life feeling this happy, this floaty, this good.

“Please,” Buck’s voice was hoarse, thick with lust and desire as he pushed the word out past the arousal climbing up his throat and threatening to consume him.

Tommy’s warm breath ghosted across the shell of Buck’s ear as he all but purred, “That’s it. Tell me what you want.”

“I–” Buck froze for a minute, suddenly unable to form words. He didn’t know where to begin.

He wanted it all, whatever Tommy would give him. Whatever he could be so lucky to have before this beautiful, delicate bubble popped and the magic disappeared and sepia tones began to bleed into technicolor and the jig was up. Because really, it all felt just a little too good to be true.

“A-Anything. Whatever you want.”

Tommy made a tsk sound under his breath, but there was no malice behind it, no shame. Instead, just warmth and patience and a fond, familiar sparkle in his blue eyes that made Buck’s chest ache. “Evan,” he had said, his thumb ghosting over Buck’s birthmark before coming to bracket his temple. It was a gesture so simple yet so intimate, it nearly split Buck in two. “What do you want?”

Buck stopped for a beat, letting Tommy’s words settle over him. He felt the fondness behind them all the way in his bones, and something about that made him feel whole, made him feel seen. The words were out before Buck could stop them. “I want to be good for you.”

“You are,” Tommy assured him without so much as a second’s hesitation. He stole another kiss. “You’re perfect.”

Buck’s instinct was to duck away from the praise that settled over him like a balm, soothing the rapidly-fraying edges of his sanity and warming him from the inside out. But Tommy didn’t let him. His fingers hooked beneath Buck’s chin, tilting it back up until their eyes met and Tommy said, “None of that.” His voice was so warm, so gentle and fond and soft, it made Buck’s chest ache. “You can have what you want,” Tommy told him. “Just gotta ask for it.”

Buck’s breath stuttered, his heart hammering against his chest. “I wanna get you off,” he said, barely recognizing the heady rasp in his voice. “Want to take care of you. Make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

Tommy’s eyes were wild as he bit back a groan, as he closed the distance between their lips and kissed Buck for all he’s worth. Without breaking the kiss, he sat back, pulling Buck with him. He tapped Buck’s thigh, humming in appreciation as Buck got the memo and slung a knee over Tommy’s thighs. He settled in Tommy’s lap with a slow, experimental roll of his hips that had both of them seeing stars and struggling to catch their breath.

Buck loved this, he fucking loved it, being manhandled like this. Tommy’s hands are big and strong and Buck’s never felt better than when they’re on him. He loved that Tommy could take him, that he can hold him and move him however he pleases. It sent a rush of heat dancing across his skin, lust and desire pooling in his belly.

“You’re so good,” Tommy told him, and the words danced up Buck’s spine, heat licking at his skin as he felt a flush creep up his neck. “The best boy.”

Holy fuck. Tommy knew exactly what he needed to hear, exactly what to say to drive Buck past the point of crazy and all the way to borderline hysteria. Buck whined against Tommy’s lips, rocking his hips as his fingers dug into Tommy’s waist.

Tommy’s fingers pushed up beneath the hem of Buck’s shirt, splaying out across the warm skin of his lower back. Buck arched his back in a silent invitation, one Tommy accepted instantly, tugging Buck’s shirt over his head and tossing it onto the floor before doing the same to his own. He dropped back against the pillows, looking up at Buck with a happy, hungry grin. Tommy’s hands settled on Buck’s hips just as Buck rolled them again, grinding down on Tommy’s lap before dropping down to his forearms, bracketed on either side of Tommy’s head as he kissed him again.

“Fuck,” Tommy panted into Buck’s mouth. He rocked up against Buck, his grip on him tightening as his eyes raked over him with a look that could only be described as insatiable. “Look at you.” Tommy’s voice was low, thick with arousal and something that sounded a lot like awe.

Buck blushed, heat rushing up his neck and burning in his cheeks as he dipped his chin, dropping his gaze with a shy smile. “Hey,” Tommy said gently. It was just one word, but it was unmistakably fond, so much so that it left Buck swallowing past a lump in his throat and pushing down a rush of emotion. Tommy’s fingers were beneath Buck’s chin again, tipping it up gently until their eyes met. “No hiding,” Tommy whispered.

Buck found himself relaxing almost instantly, shyness fading away as he held Tommy’s gaze. Buck’s mind instantly quieted as he stared up at bright, piercing blue that was somehow still soft and kind, gentle in a way that made Buck feel warm and safe. Tommy’s eyes are flanked in tiny, nearly invisible tan lines, courtesy of the way his skin crinkles when he smiles. The lines are barely visible, but Buck already knows them by heart. He’s kissed them and traced them and seen them when he closes his own eyes, in those heavy, floaty moments right before he falls asleep.

He sees Tommy’s eyes in his dreams, and in the ones when he’s awake, too. He loves the way they sparkle, the mischievous glint behind them that only Buck seems to earn. He could lose himself in them, could drown in the warm, wild, cerulean seas that set his heart on fire and his mind at ease. What a way to go.

Tommy smiled, leaned in and kissed him. It grew heavy quickly, breaking only when Tommy pulled back to draw in a shaky breath. “How d’you want me?”

Jesus Christ.

Buck’s throat ran dry, clicking as he swallowed and let Tommy’s words hang in the air between them. He placed a hand on Tommy’s broad chest, his fingers splaying out across the smooth skin shrouded in a smattering of dark hair. Tommy’s eyes flitted between Buck’s eyes and his hand, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, his eyebrows raising as Buck pushed him back until his head hit the pillows.

“Just like this,” Buck said. He took a deep breath, shaky on the exhale as he looked down at Tommy laid out beneath him, drinking in every inch of him, melting into every point of contact where their skin met. Eagerness and a sudden, unwelcome flare of uncertainty burned in his gut, a killer combination that had Buck’s head swimming and his breath catching as he swallowed nervously. “Tell me if I— if it’s not—”

“I will,” Tommy assured him, his hands skating up and down Buck’s flank reassuringly. “Won’t need to, though, cause you’ve got this.” He tipped his chin up, meeting Buck in a kiss that was slow and gentle and instantly chased away the waves of self-doubt rising in Buck’s throat.

Buck nodded, brushing his thumb over the apple of Tommy’s cheek before trailing his fingers down, his touch ghosting over the heat of his neck and the soft, dark hair on his chest. He got to work on Tommy’s belt, despite the way his hands were trembling with some combination of anticipation and restraint.

Tommy noticed, because of course he did. It’s what he does. He notices things. Because he’s so tuned into everything Buck does, every breath he takes. His hands left the spot where they’d settled on Buck’s shoulders in favor of covering Buck’s own, curling his fingers around Buck’s.

Buck opened his mouth to apologize, but Tommy must’ve picked up on that too, because he was leaning forward and kissing him again before Buck had the chance to get the word out. Buck– though, really, it was the self-doubt monster inside him rearing its ugly head– half expected Tommy to nudge Buck’s hands out of the way and unbutton his pants himself. But he didn’t. He just let their fingers sit tangled together as he kissed Buck for a minute, slow and steady and everything Buck hadn’t realized he needed until it was happening. He didn’t rush him, didn’t brush him off, didn't make him feel anything other than good and safe and perfectly capable.

He doesn't think he’ll ever get over it– how Tommy’s so in tune with him, how he’s able to read Buck so well. Not only does he know what it is Buck needs, but he gives it to him any time he can. Buck’s never felt seen like this before in a romantic relationship, and it’s all so much, so good, but so much. He didn’t know what to do with it other than sigh into Tommy’s kiss and pray he'd never wake up from the dream that his life has become.

They kissed and they kissed and they kissed, and finally, Buck started moving his hands again, this time with a certainty and a deftness that wasn’t there before. He got Tommy’s jeans unbuttoned, and then he was murmuring “Up,” against his lips, urging Tommy to lift his hips enough that Buck could pull the fabric down.

Tommy did as he was told, and Buck tossed his jeans and briefs to the floor before stealing another hungry kiss. He trailed a line of hot kisses along Tommy’s jaw, down his neck, across his chest. He had his hands on Tommy’s hips, holding him down as he licked at his nipples and Tommy all but writhed beneath him. “Evan,” he gasped, wild and desperate in a way that had Buck fucking floating.

He sucked and nipped and kissed his way down Tommy’s chest, leaving small marks and bruises that started blooming as he made his way down, down, down. And then he was face to face with Tommy’s dick– his beautiful dick, flushed red and glistening with precome that had beaded on the tip and was starting to drip down the underside.

The heady rush of pride and delight that came with the realization that Tommy was wet for him nearly knocked Buck over. God knows Buck himself had soaked through his fair share of boxers in the past few weeks thanks to Tommy, but having a front-row seat to the role reversal was almost too much for Buck to handle.

He pressed a hot, wet kiss to the tip, his tongue dragging over the slit. Really, he was helpless to do anything else, having given himself over entirely to the lust simmering his veins and thrumming beneath his skin, chasing after the heady rush that came as the salty, musky, irresistible taste of Tommy exploded on his tongue and lit him up until he felt like he was high on it.

Tommy let out a broken moan, and it was everything. Buck could gladly spend the rest of his life in this bed, coaxing that sound out of him over and over and over again. He wrapped his fingers around Tommy’s cock, relishing in the way Tommy’s breath stuttered and his eyes grew heavy. He gave an experimental stroke, focusing on twisting his wrist in the way he knew feels good when he does it to himself. He was rewarded with a punched-out sound that lay somewhere between a gasp and a groan, and then another as he did it again.

Tommy was leaking steadily now, and Buck gathered more precome and used it to slick him up. “Oh, fuck,” Tommy panted. His voice was raspy and breathless, and it did nothing but spur Buck on even more. “Just like that, yeah, just like that.”

“Yeah?” Buck hummed, confidence building with each passing second, with each delicious sound that fell from Tommy’s lips. “You like that?” Buck asked, pleasantly surprised to hear the rasp in his own voice. He didn’t sound quite as fucked-out as Tommy did– not yet, at least– but his breath was starting to come a little more ragged, his heart starting to hammer a little harder in his chest.

Tommy nodded, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he dropped his head back against the pillows. “Yes, yes," he practically chanted, the word punched out of him as Buck doubled down, wrapping his free hand around the base, twisting it opposite his other hand and earning himself a filthy, drawn-out moan.

Buck’s own dick strained against his jeans, harder than he thought he'd ever been as he watched Tommy fall apart beneath his hands. His hands. He was the one doing this to him, making him feel this good. That alone was enough to have Buck teetering on the edge, his skin hot and his mind hazy.

He dipped his chin down again, pressing another kiss to the head, before running his tongue down the underside as his fingers trailed down to Tommy’s balls.

Tommy jerked beneath him, his back arching and his hands fisting in the sheets so hard it was a miracle they didn't tear.

“Good?” Buck asked, pulling back just enough that Tommy could hear him, but not enough that the vibrations from his voice didn't send a jolt up Tommy’s spine.

Tommy’s toes curled and his breath stuttered as he nodded. “Good, yes, good,” he promised, his breath ragged. “Please,” he begged. For what, Buck wasn’t entirely sure. But he’d be damned if he stopped before he figured it out. “Please, baby.”

Buck loved it, couldn’t get enough of the way Tommy– one of the calmest, coolest people he had the privilege of knowing– lost his composure like this, how he started to babble and beg, his words slurring together as he gave himself over to the ecstasy rushing through his veins and started to come undone.

Buck kept one hand on Tommy’s cock, long languid strokes that were just shy of enough to get him off, but still enough to have him moaning and whining a litany of broken sounds beneath him. Buck took his other hand back, drinking in the strangled gasp that fell from Tommy’s lips as he watched Buck stick two of his fingers in his own mouth, licking and sucking at them as his eyes locked with Tommy’s.

There was fire burning in Tommy’s eyes, an insatiable hunger as he watched Buck, completely transfixed.

Buck released his fingers with a wet, filthy sound and wasted no time before slipping them between Tommy’s ass cheeks, grinning at the way Tommy absolutely whined. One of Tommy’s hands flew to Buck's shoulder in an attempt to anchor himself, the other staying where it was, twisted up in the sheets. Buck shifted his weight, keeping Tommy’s thighs locked between his knees so he didn’t arch off the bed.

It was something Buck never could have done with any of the women he’s ever slept with— he was always very conscious of his own strength, too worried about being too much, too strong, too powerful. But not with Tommy. Tommy’s big and strong, broad and muscular just like Buck is. They’re evenly matched— even if Tommy’s hands are bigger than Buck’s, something that still makes heat pool in Buck’s belly when he thinks about it. Tommy can hold his own, can handle himself. What’s even more, Tommy can handle Buck, too.

So Buck kept Tommy’s thighs in a vice grip, and Tommy’s breath hitched and his cock jumped in Buck’s hand, and Buck had to breathe through the wave of pure, unadulterated pride that swelled in his chest and broke over his skin. He felt like a glow stick, cracked open and glowing from the inside out for anyone to see.

He teased Tommy’s rim with the pads of his fingers, drinking in the tiny punched-out moans and broken gasps that were falling from Tommy’s lips as he did. And then he dropped a kiss to Tommy’s jaw and pushed one finger in, enveloped by warm, slick heat up to the second knuckle. Tommy cursed, spilling over Buck’s fingers and onto his chest as his orgasm rushed over him.

Buck was mesmerized, completely transfixed with the way Tommy’s back arched, the way his lips fell open on a silent sob, his fingers digging into Buck’s skin hard enough Buck found himself hoping they would leave bruises. Tommy’s beautiful always, but especially like that– coming undone beneath Buck’s hands, skin flushed as he rode out his orgasm with ragged breaths and tiny, uncontrollable jerks of his hips.

Tommy blinked slowly, his smile syrupy sweet as he came back to himself and saw Buck leaning over him. He reached up and cupped Buck through his pants, grinding his palm against the bulge where his cock was straining against the front seam of the denim.

“Good boy, let go,” Tommy practically purred, the words shooting straight through him. Buck felt like he was on fire, absolutely glowing as the praise washed over him and his orgasm built. He was helpless to stop the whine that fell from his lips, though he was so far past the point of holding back with Tommy, he didn’t even try. He still had a finger in Tommy’s ass, and when Tommy clenched around him, Buck’s vision whited out as he came with a strangled cry.

It took a minute for Buck’s brain to come back online, for him to relax into the sweet kisses Tommy was peppering across his jaw and his cheeks and his neck, to ease his finger out and take a deep, sated breath.

“Hi,” Buck slurred after a beat, his voice heavy in a post-orgasm haze.

Tommy grinned, tugging him back in as lazy kisses turned hungry, then lazy again. Buck pulled back to catch his breath, warmth exploding behind his chest as he sat back and took in the sight of Tommy before him. And a few minutes later, when he asked, with just a hint of trepidation creeping into the edges of his voice, if it had been good, he was instantly settled by Tommy's immediate and genuine assurance.

And now, as Buck lays on Tommy’s chest, he doesn’t feel the tackiness of the come cooling between them. He doesn’t feel the wet spot in his own pants, or the faint burn in his wrist. He just feels happy. And good. And proud.

And when, a little while later, Tommy will mumble “C’mon,” and ease Buck up to guide him to the shower, Buck will go easily, without hesitation. He’ll go anywhere Tommy asks him to, would follow Tommy anywhere he wants to go. Maybe that's how it was always destined to be. Or maybe not. But it's where they are now.

They're together, and nothing has ever made Buck feel quite as proud as that.

#my writing #this thing had a mind of its own #i blinked and here we are #bucktommy #buckxtommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #tevan #kinkley #bucktommy fic #smut #minors dni #bucktommy fanfic #one day i will be better at tagging but evidently today is not that day #and a quick heads up to those of you who like to send me mean messages:#this one isn't buddie and that's gonna have to be ok #we're all big kids here i know you can handle it

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maypersonne · 9 months

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Shang Qinghua really does think that he is unlovable huh

He really thinks that he is of no value to anyone if he isn't making himself useful he will be disposed off and that will be it

He genuinely believes no would ever want him so he manipulate and posture as a lesser so to be seen as a necessary annoyance rather than the pest he believes himself to be

He hates all the work he has to do but he prefers exhaustion to the paranoia and anxiety that eat him up when he isn't showcasing his value

He is in a constant battle just to be acceptable rather than loved so he can just be in the presence of those who are dear to him

Like damn like father like son I can see where binghe got all his issues like airplane bro stop unloading it all on your OCs look you gave the poor dear anxiety

#sqh child of divorce #svsss #shang qinghua #actually this was part of my grand scheme to formulate that everything is cumplane but like it became its own thing #i was gonna relate it to #moshang #i was trying to say that bingqiu and moshang relationship hangups are similar #like mobei jun is repressing his feelings and believes that someone like him doesn't fall in love with a human or a servant or a lil rat #he internalized how he should and shouldn't act to be socially acceptable like sqq #and like he's difficult to read in general and refuses to talk about his feelings that also he doesn't understand #sqq and mbj both have sinuous minds that defy the mortal's comprehension #anyway #cumplane agenda #sqh: i made a power fantasy!#(cucumber voice): you fucked up a perfectly good protagonist is what you did! look at it it got anxiety!#sqh: well see thats what some would call a self insert #like sqh making memes about isn't making it better but i guess it's maybe better then bottling it all up #sqh got so much of his validation from his readers #so for sy to actually *see* him to criticize him to believe in him to know how good he can be #he doesn't even realize it #that does something sqh's lizard brain

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bumblingbabooshka · 7 months

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My name is [BRUTUS] and my name means [HEAVY] so with a [HEAVY] heart I'll guide this dagger Into the heart of my enemy

Something about having absolutely no choice in who you marry. About being literally forced by the law to spill blood - to accept this stranger as your husband over a man you truly care for or accept the fact that the man you love might die because you put him in danger. Something about risking becoming the wife of a man you've never even seen before a few minutes prior because you know anything would be better than putting your beloved in harm's way. Something about the trust inherent in that decision and in the way she speaks of it after. Truthfully, T'Pring doesn't know the captain and she doesn't know Spock. Either one of them could have taken her as their wife but she does know Stonn. She knows that Stonn will remain by her side no matter what. They made a plan together. They have an agreement which T'Pring believes will be upheld even though the plan changed with the arrival of Kirk. Stonn will always be there, always, and Stonn will be hers. Something about the language used around T'Pring: Ownership, subservience, non-personhood. T'Pring is an object that Spock can win. She cannot reject him, she has no say in the matter other than having Stonn 'claim' her instead. Even when Spock leaves after being very clearly rejected by T'Pring he says "Stonn, she is yours." as if despite her clear rejection he still owns her and is must formally 'give' her to Stonn. But the language T'Pring uses around Stonn is a break from that: "There was Stonn who wanted very much to be my consort, and I wanted him." Stonn who wanted very much to be HER consort and she WANTED him. The language here is very particular - It's not, for example: "Stonn wanted me to be his wife" - he is HERS. And she WANTS him. There's a mutual affection there and a strong trust - a trust which seems to be well founded since Stonn (though silent) stands by her side at the end of the episode. <- That might seem small but if Spock would reject her for 'daring to challenge' (again, the language is not 'because I don't want you' but more of an implied disgust at her having the AUDACITY to reject him) then it's not a stretch to assume that it'd be considered an insult in the TOS Vulcan society to NOT choose Stonn as her champion after a prior agreement. Anyway T'Pring was a woman in an impossible situation within a society which saw her as more of an object than a person and she wanted Stonn and Stonn wanted to be hers and she trusted that he would understand if she had to publicly pick someone else to ensure his life would be spared and he did understand.

#amok time #T'Pring i s....T'Pring she....-puts my head through a wall-#PLEASE read under the cut for my rambling about T'Pring in amok time pleasepleaseplease #tired of 'T'Pring is evil/a bitch' and VERY uninterested in 'T'Pring is a girlboss'#T'Pring is a person in a society which doesn't think she has the right to make her own choices who's in [love] with a man who [loves] her #back in what I'd like to think is implied to be a slightly subversive way in its mutual and fervent nature (whether the writers thought #this was a good or bad thing - who knows. We know better RIGHT??)#and yes I will stylize T'Pring's hair differently every single time I draw it HEHEHE #star trek tos #Spock #T'Pring #also of COURSE something something spock/kirk & stonn/t'pring parallels: To keep your beloved safe you have to force someone else to kill #theirs - not BC you hate him (you don't) but you don't love him either and why does HE get to have you even if you don't want him?? Why doe #he get to 'give' you to the person YOU chose?? It's not a hatred on a person level (which I wanted to portray with the 'brothers') portion #but a sort of societal embodying.#I will think about T'Pring not wanting to be 'the consort of a legend' every damn day !!!#They really could have laid it on thick in making her evil guys...T'Pau even makes a comment about Spock's 'vulcan blood is thin'#but all T'Pring says is that Spock is a legend and she doesn't want that for her life. She wants Stonn.#And you're gonna sit there and you're gonna tell her that she's wrong!??? Spock doesn't even want to be with her!! Why is she so hated!?#CAN WE FREE MY GIRL??? She did all that but it's being read in the worst faith possible!!#comix #bea art tag #star trek art #She literally says the word 'FREE'...she's TRAPPED!!!

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mariusroyale · 1 year

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“We’re runnin’ outta time!”

“Why can’t I do this?”

“I’m failing you.”

you know what gets me about this scene? other than my boy crying bc oh god i just wanna hug him i just had to rewatch it bc the raph edits in my fyp are BRUTAL