Luck being a koala to gaz and him acting like nothing is happening (I envy their relationship)
Despite the fact that Gaz's shadow does a wonderful job carrying you from place to place, you find it much more comfortable to have the man himself do it. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, your legs around his waist, and he happily carts you from his room to the kitchen. Afterglow breakfast, he calls it. His fingers skim your thighs, bunching up the sweatshirt he lent you and giving your ass an affectionate squeeze. You push your face against his neck with a content sigh.
Gaz sets you to sit on the kitchen counter while he digs through the fridge. He tosses you a fruit cup from the box on the lowest shelf. You peal back the top enough to suck out the sugar water while Gaz makes himself busy looking for forks. He hops up onto the counter next to you and passes you the imitation silverware. You click your fork against his, and twirl it over your fingers to tuck into the little orange slices left in your cup.
"Last two," Gaz smiles.
"Lucky us," You grin back.
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wip wednesday
tagged by @steadfastsaturnsrings @malewifediaz @buckaroosheart 💖💖
how did the "fluffy decorating christmas tree fic" turn into eddie being nostalgic about shannon? no idea lmao but I love it haha (also, lowkey a tease for alive shannon bc this hypothetical is what ends up happening there haha)
this fic would've been done already if I didn't get sick bc now i'm barely awake at all times and just so fucking tired lol
i should finish it next week at the latest tho! (if Eddie doesn't take over and make it super long again haha)
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And Buck knows all that, because he knows Eddie so well, and Eddie- Eddie just loves him so much sometimes it gets overwhelming, just the sheer amount of love he has for this man, who’s currently looking at him with those gorgeous, understanding eyes. And he can’t do anything else but lean in and kiss his pretty pink lips.
“I know.” he whispers, smiling, blinking away tears. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Buck chuckles quietly. Then Eddie looks at Christopher again.
“It’s just hard sometimes, especially during the holidays. She should be here. With Chris.”
“She really should.” Buck wraps one hand around Eddie’s shoulders.
“I think she’d like you.” Eddie muses, leaning his head against Buck’s. “You guys would get along.” He really thinks so, and he also thinks that even if the accident didn’t happen and she didn’t die, he’d eventually give her the divorce she asked for, and inevitably date Buck anyway – he doesn’t think there’s any universe, any scenario, any path he’d take, where he and Buck don’t end up falling in love. If he believed in it, he’d say it’s fate or destiny or some shit like that. (Maybe he does believe, just in this one instance, but no one has to know).
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no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @911onabc @spagheddiediaz @housewifebuck @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @pirrusstuff @theotherbuckley @911-on-abc @wildlife4life @fortheloveofbuddie @nmcggg @diazpatcher @jesuisici33 @lover-of-mine @giddyupbuck @exhuastedpigeon @king-buckley @disasterbuckdiaz @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @hoodie-buck @spotsandsocks @jeeyuns @daffi-990 @callmenewbie @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @jamespearce9-1-1 @weewootruck @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks
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Would you be willing to do some sapphic dialogue between hero and Villain? ❤️
“I understand now,” the villain murmured, chin resting in her hand. The hero turned, swiping a bit of blood out of her eyes.
“Understand what?”
She was golden, her villain, standing there like that. Amongst rubble and ash as it drifted from the sky, light illuminating her like a halo. Like she was some sort of god.
“Why they all went mad. Why they started wars and spilt blood.”
The hero’s brow wrinkled as the villain stepped closer, but she held still as the villain tucked a bloodied piece of hair behind her ear.
“Have you gone mad, then?” It was half teasing.
The villain laughed, smoothing the hero’s brow with her thumb. “I think loving you has always been a sort of madness.”
The hero shoved at the villain’s shoulder playfully, ducking her head to hide her blush. “Are you calling me an illness, then?”
“One I never hope to cure.”
“That seems a little self sabotaging if you ask me,” the hero remarked. She shifted a piece of rubble with her foot, dust pluming out around it. “But, if we’re in the vein of self sabotage, maybe no more mass apocalypse attempts?”
“I’ll consider it.”
“No, you won’t.”
The villain tipped her head. “Would you truly want me to?”
“No,” the hero said after a moment, voice hesitant. “I cannot imagine you any other way.”
The hero froze, blushing, ducking her head to hide the red on her cheeks. The villain took it as an opportunity to grab her chin, guiding the hero’s eyes to meet hers. Her fingers were the kind of soft that made violence seem a myth.
The villain hummed. “I’d burn the world for you, if you asked.” She raised a playful eyebrow at the hero. “Is that how you imagine me?”
Being this close to the villain was doing something funny to the hero’s heart. She felt like she needed to sit down. Or possibly find out what the villain’s lips felt like on hers–
“Yes,” she whispered. Something flickered in the villain’s eyes.
“What a hero,” the villain’s mouth twitched in amusement, that damn mouth.
“You’re pronouncing ‘hopeless romantic’ wrong.”
A slow grin crept across the villain’s face.
“Oh, am I now?”
There were words to respond to that, but the hero had forgotten them. This close, the villain smelled like blood and dust and something uniquely her, something the hero had been missing all of her life and couldn’t get enough of now.
“Mmmmhm.”
The villain’s grin widened.
“Have I driven you to madness?”
The hero couldn’t look away from her eyes. “The kind that makes people start wars.”
The villain pulled her close, tucking the hero into her neck.
“That’s called love.”
The hero sucked in a breath, heart pounding in her ribs, but didn’t pull away.
“I know,” she breathed in the scent of the villain, “I was destined for failure.”
The villain rested her head against the hero’s. Her arms slid neatly around her waist.
“I don’t think you could fail at anything.”
“I failed at not loving you,” the hero pulled back. “Though really, how could they put heaven in front of me and expect me not to love her–”
The villain was kissing her.
The villain, her villain, was kissing her.
The hero melted.
The villain smiled against her mouth.
“They’ll tell stories about us, you know.”
“They always do, when people go mad with love.”
“The Story of When Heaven and Hell Fell In Love,” the villain murmured fondly.
“Mmm. Which one are you?”
“Hell.”
“That’s the most untrue thing you’ve ever said.”
The villain laughed.
“Only you would think so.”
“Well,” the hero tipped her head. “I am in love.” She wrapped her arms around the back of the villain's neck. “Now, if we’re going to tell a story,” she leaned in to whisper against the villain’s lips. “Let’s make it a good one.”
The villain smiled.
And kissed her again.
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