weewookinkmeme | Kink Meme

Kink Meme

So how does this work?

1. Anonymously post a short prompt. It could be shippy, porny, weird, fluffy, angsty, gen, or whatever else your heart desires.

Remember that a short, open-ended prompt is easier to fill than something highly specific. E.g. "What if Buck and Eddie had exhibitionist sex at the gym?" is more likely to get a fill than "What if Buck and Eddie had sex at the gym, Buck came first, then someone walked in and they never spoke of it again. After a slow burn, they get together while Maddie is giving birth to her and Chimney's third child."

2. If you see a prompt that strikes your fancy, anonymously fill it. Your fill could be 200 words written straight into the comment box, or it could be a multi-part epic. Multiple fills for one prompt are not only acceptable, but awesome.

Note: Deanoning your fic, or posting it to your namespace AO3, Tumblr, Twitter, or any other account, is completely fine, but please wait a week or so to do so, so it can belong totally to the kink meme for a bit. Kink memes are not only for fic, they are also communities; we want to celebrate your fic that you made for this community for a bit before it's released into the wider world.

Second note: Deanoning is NOT required. Your fic can live as an anonymous fill for as long as you please. :)

3. If you post a prompt, try to fill one if you can!

4. Comment on things you're excited about and start discussions. The conversations can be the best part of being on a kink meme! And part of the benefit of being on Dreamwidth is that we are all completely anonymous, so you can deep discuss anything you please without shame.

5. Don't troll, wank, or start discourse. If you don't like a prompt/fill, scroll on past and post something you do like. Treat people well. Harassment will be deleted with prejudice. If you see someone treating people poorly, you can report it here.

Edit: Feel free to post prompts for RPF ships. Let's make sure to only prompt about actively famous people, not relatives or friends of famous people (unless they're famous in their own right), and avoid RPF prompts about real life minors.

Second Edit: Just a reminder to be careful to write out "omegaverse" or "alpha/beta/omega" instead of using the letter abbreviations, as it's a very nasty slur in some parts of the world.

It's that simple! Here is a list of kinks for inspiration, get prompting and have fun!

If anyone is totally new to HTML, I've written up a quick tutorial here; click to expand.

Basic HTML is pretty easy! This is how you make words bold, italicized, underlined, bigger, smaller, etc. You use what are called "tags", and surround the words you want to be affected.

<i>Like this</i>

<b>Or this</b>

<h1>Or this</h1>

That's the raw HTML. When you post a comment, it will change the text. So when you post, the three HTML tags I'm using there would look:

Like this
Or this
Or this

<i></i> = italics
<b></b> = bold
<u></u> = underlined

That's the very basics, and probably all you need for commentfic. Here is a more in-depth guide, and here is the HTML that is usable on Dreamwidth.

You can see new fic in the fills thread, or on Pinboard for clickable links (If you're using a phone, Pinboard will probably be easiest.).

AO3 Collection

~~I'm testing out another journal style, since a couple anons pointed out that the current one is hard to navigate on mobile, don't be alarmed! Edit: ugh, I hate what I've created. Bear with me.~~ Okay, I'm just gonna go with the site default, I think, since it's nice and functional. Apologies to anyone who witnessed the various in-between stages of the journal, lol.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Would love to see Buck realizing how much Eddie LOVES being taken care of even though he can never ask for it, gently domming him when they're alone until it turns sexual.

oh, anon, this is so beautiful and tender, i love the idea of eddie being gently looked after and both of them getting so into it

un-negotiated power dynamics yes god

..........it's possible that i'm writing this

hi anon! this is the start of a fill i'm still working on but here is part 1! this takes place during the chris in el paso times (also things don't get sexy in this part but soon i swear)

“Eddie. Eddie!” Buck has to raise his voice to get Eddie to stop his anxiety ramble. “Dude, stop. Just stop.”

“I can’t just not think about it,” Eddie says.

Buck sighs and gives him a look, and Eddie looks back, wringing his hands, pleading with his eyes like Buck can solve it all.

“You know what, no,” Buck says. “I-I don’t expect you to be fine. Of course I don’t. But this isn’t helping, Eddie. We should, we should do something, take your mind off things.”

“Oh, I’m sorry my worry about my son isn’t productive enough,” Eddie says, like he wants to start a fight.

Buck rolls his eyes, yeah, that’s what he fucking meant, and makes the decision to just short-cut to the end of this conversation. He borrows Eddie’s move, gets a grip on Eddie’s shoulder and uses it to guide him through the house into the living room.

“Sit,” he says, hears iron in his own voice that he didn’t put there, and Eddie sits down all at once. “Don’t move.”

Eddie’s looking up at Buck with something a few steps to the left surprise. He opens his mouth like he’s gonna say something, and Buck holds up a hand. Walks on out of the room without giving Eddie a chance to try again.

When he comes back, Eddie is still right where he was, staring vaguely into space, eyes trained upwards where Buck was.

Buck gives him a beer and says, “What do you want to watch?”

“I…” Eddie says. He traces clean lines in the condensation on his beer bottle. “Whatever. I don’t care.”

Buck’s not in the mood to suss out what Eddie actually wants, so he says, “Fine, we’re watching Rupaul. Gimme the remote.”

Eddie gives it to him with a complicated expression on his face. He starts to get up, but before he can, Buck says, “No.”

He’s the one being unreasonable, now, but he really doesn’t give a fuck. For such a competent guy, Eddie is kind of unbelievably bad at taking care of himself. There’s something satisfying, soothing even, in just making him do what Buck knows will make him feel better.

“I just need a bottle opener, you freak,” Eddie says, even as he sits back down.

Buck makes grabby hands at him for the bottle, and opens it on the edge of the coffee table. Hands it back to Eddie and pulls up season nine of Rupaul’s Drag Race.

He doesn’t notice Eddie staring at him until he’s gotten it playing.

“What?” Buck says.

“Nothing! Nothing.” Eddie stares at his – completely full – beer bottle. His hand circles the neck of it, thumb flirting with the rim.

“Eddie,” Buck says, lower than he means to. Eddie’s eyes snap to him, and a nova of nervous, wild energy explodes behind Buck’s sternum. He says, “Drink your beer.”

Eddie looks at him, and then back at his beer. He tips it to his mouth at a delicate, precise angle, and takes a few slow swallows.

“Good,” Buck says, and Eddie swallows again, even though he’s already put his beer down on the table. “Now watch the fuckin’ show, you pain in the ass.”

Eddie laughs, a moment delayed.

Gahhhhh yes, i love this. i love how much it IS their regular way of being, just a little bit to the left: buck's impulsive domineering driven by exasperated concern, and it WORKS, and it's so good. eddie's reactions!!! cannot WAIT to see where this goes.

part 2! this is probably all for today but i will have more soon :)

Chris comes to Los Angeles before Eddie goes to Texas, in the end. Helena says it’s a visit, Eddie is hoping it’s more than that, but he’s afraid it isn’t. Ramon made a cryptic comment – or was it cryptic, maybe Eddie is just reading too much into it! But anyway, maybe there’s more at stake with this dinner than Eddie thought, and at least they’re going out to eat so Eddie doesn’t have to make food, what a nightmare that would be, but it has to be perfect, he has to be perfect, and can Buck stop staring at him like that and answer the goddamn question?

“I’m sorry,” Buck says. “Was there a question in that rant?”

“How can I make this go well – fuck, I can’t even figure out which shirt to wear.” Eddie sits on the bed. He's all despair, his raked-through hair and the defeated curve of his bare back.

“What, uh, what shirt are you thinking of?” Buck says.

Eddie looks at his dresser like he’s just been told it’s filled with something he hates, like snakes or rice pudding. “I can’t cancel.” He looks at Buck hopefully. “Right?”

“You’re not gonna cancel,” Buck says.

“I can’t even pick out a fucking shirt. This is going to be horrible.” Eddie plunges his face into his hands and groans despondently for a very long time.

“Eddie.” Buck approaches, tugging at an arm until Eddie reluctantly lets it drop. His eyes are so wide Buck can see the whites all the way around, his breath coming in shallow puffs. He's on the verge of a panic attack, Buck realizes.

“I can’t do this,” Eddie whispers.

“Eddie…” Buck presses a knuckle between his brows.

“I can’t. I was a fucking idiot to think…” Eddie shakes his head, and Buck can see the next words clear as newsprint in front of him. He’ll say his parents were right. He’ll say he’s not fit to be a father, that he’s a piece of shit. It’s the kind of thing Eddie has always believed about himself, unfortunately. The sky is blue, water is wet, and Eddie hates himself.

But it’s one thing to think it, and another to say it. Saying it will do something to Eddie, and Buck doesn’t know how reversible it’ll be. It will certainly fuck this dinner up catastrophically.

Eddie’s opening his mouth to say it, but Buck gets there first. “You have clean laundry, right? In the dryer?”

“Yeah?” Eddie says.

“Go get that, okay, bud?”

“...why?” Eddie says, and the train of thought that was building in every tiny expression on his face, in his dark eyes, derails.

“Because I asked you to,” Buck says.

Eddie gets up. He pauses for an almost-glance at Buck, and then finally takes a breath and goes.

Once he’s out of the bedroom, Buck starts rummaging in his dresser. He finds:

- Eddie’s favorite socks; the last survivors from the latest pack of them. For some reason, Eddie waits until they’ve all worn completely out instead of buying a new pack while he still has a pair left. Whatever.

- A pair of pants nice enough for the restaurant, but not specially bought for the occasion like the pair Eddie is currently wearing. Eddie should look like this is something he cares about, but also like it’s normal. Like he’s on his own turf. Not like he’s at a job interview, for fuck’s sake.

- The watch Christopher bought Eddie a few years ago. Not for Chris to see, though that’s a bonus, but for Eddie. To remind himself what he’s fighting for.

Buck hesitates for a moment, but then hears Eddie coming back. He takes the leap.

- Boxer briefs, one of the nice pairs that Eddie barely ever wears even though Buck absolutely knows that he really likes them. They’re soft but supportive and are all gorgeous, deep colors (Buck chooses a pair in a deep red). Eddie almost seems embarrassed by how much he likes them.

“Got it,” Eddie says. He puts the basket on the bed, but his eyes are fixed on the boxer briefs in Buck’s hands.

Buck adds them to the pile of things on the bed. “Put these on.”

Eddie looks at the clothes on the bed. He says, “’Kay.”

He strips right there with Buck in the room, down to nothing. Buck doesn’t look right at him until he has the boxer briefs on.

“I always forget how comfortable these are,” Eddie says with an awkward chuckle.

“No, you don’t,” Buck says. Eddie puts on the socks and then his pants (insane).

He says, “Still didn’t solve the shirt thing.”

“Right,” Buck says, and stops staring to dig through the basket. He finds a button-down, another dark red; sue him, it's Eddie's color. “This is the one.”

Eddie makes a face. “I can’t, it’s all wrinkled.”

So Buck finds Eddie’s iron and ironing board and sets it up. Eddie watches for a few seconds before Buck says, “Why don’t you fold that, huh, princess?” pointing his chin at the basket of laundry.

It comes out a bit weird, and Buck kind of wants to explain that he was making a joke about how he’s having his clothes picked out for him. Like a princess. But also, that doesn’t really account for everything about how he said it, and Eddie’s blinking at him, color rising in his cheeks, and Buck – well, Buck’s not gonna do anything to stymie that reaction, he’s not a monster. So he doesn’t explain. After a minute, he raises his eyebrows at Eddie, and Eddie jolts into motion, dumps out the basket of laundry and starts folding.

And he’s still shirtless, so Buck can see that his nipples have gone tight and peaked. Swallowing hard, Buck gets to work ironing the shirt smooth.

Eddie’s still folding when he finishes, but he doesn’t stop. He does the rest and then says, “Is that – like that?”

Not like there’s that many ways to fold laundry, and Eddie’s avoidant eyes are telling. He wants to hear –

“Yeah. That’s good,” Buck says, and Eddie breathes out slowly, nodding.

He takes the shirt Buck gives him and puts it on, and as he buttons it up a strange hush falls over the room. Eddie’s dressed, head to toe, in clothes Buck chose for him, and Buck’s blood thrums dangerously.

“Good,” Buck says again. “You look nice.”

“Thanks,” Eddie says. Buck can see his nipples through his shirt.

ohhhhh my god. he wanted to hear that he did good! i love this so much. i love how much of it is buck knowing eddie, and knowing what he likes and the things he denies himself, and i love love love the increasing realization buck has that they're both kind of horny about this. and it's all so fond on top of that

Maybe not porn yet, but lbr, it is horny. Or maybe just me. Anyway, love this and looking forward for more of this 💙

not done yet but here's some actual porn!

Eddie’s in one of those moods, and Buck can read him like a book. He’s scared, sad, exhausted from their shift, a good half of which was spent at a grisly multi-car pileup extracting the dead and dying. And he’s dealing with it poorly, because they all are, because it was a horrible fucking day, and when Eddie’s dealing with his shit poorly he gets in Buck’s face.

And Buck’s got patience, especially for Eddie, but he’s had the same horrible day, and it’s wearing thin. Eddie has a hard time expressing himself, but that’s not Buck’s fucking fault, and he hasn’t got the energy to wait for Eddie to go through the process of realizing he’s being an ass.

So he just kind of ignores it for a while, on the drive home where Eddie is snappy and simmering with anger. And then they get to Eddie’s, and Eddie mutters something, and Buck’s the one who snaps.

“What did you just say?” he says, harsher than he thought it was gonna come out, and Eddie looks at him with a kind of snapped-out-of-it surprise.

His jaw tightens again quickly, though, and he says, “Nothing.” And Buck really fucking hates Eddie’s parents, but if Eddie was anything like this as a teenager then he actually does have one iota of sympathy to spare for them.

“Enough.” He bites off the syllables. “Go inside, Eddie. Now,” he adds, when Eddie looks like he might argue.

“You’re not – are you – are you leaving?” Eddie manages to sound pissed about that idea, even though, really, Buck would be justified in taking a breather right now. If he wanted one.

Buck sighs, making himself relax slightly. “Go inside and wait for me,” he amends, no less firm. He holds eye contact with Eddie, until Eddie’s the one to break it.

Eddie unbuckles his seatbelt and goes without another look at Buck.

And Buck doesn’t watch him go, following an instinct. When he hears the front door close, he exhales an explosive breath, and mutters “Dick,” under his breath.

Buck is itchy, something radiating off him like heat shimmering over asphalt. Watching Eddie spin out like this makes Buck want to grab him and hold him still until he stops struggling and will just – just fucking relax and stop fighting anything that might make him feel better.

All Buck wants is his hands on Eddie and Eddie’s eyes on him with that open, wanting, liquid expression in them. After today – after today, he needs it.

He its and breathes and thinks for a few minutes. Takes his time, stretching luxuriously when he gets out of the car, making sure to grab his stuff and Eddie’s to bring in.

Door open, door shut, their bags on the ground. Eddie’s loitering in the kitchen, his jaw muscles twitching in a complicated flutter.

Buck says, “Go kneel by the couch. On the floor.”

“Ah – “ Eddie says. His fingers twitch by his sides, the only movement to him.

Buck waits to see if there’s more, but Eddie just takes a hard breath, drops his eyes to the floor, and walks out of the room. He could use another while to wait, and stew, and to squirm on his knees wondering what’s coming next, but Buck can’t hold off. He has to see.

Eddie’s a picture, on his knees with his eyes cast down, his hair a soft, unstyled mess. He’s in his undershirt but otherwise unchanged, even still has his shoes on. Looks so put together, for the most part, but he’s not.

It’s in the way he shifts nervously at the first step Buck takes into the room. His eyes dart to Buck's face and then back down. His hands move, almost-casual, to block Buck’s view of his groin, and Buck has to hold back a smile.

Eddie is always so bad at lying, at least when he’s trying to do it; if not for that little, self-conscious motion, Buck might not have noticed that Eddie’s hard.

When Buck sits on the couch, Eddie takes a little breath. And then Buck...doesn’t do anything. Fuck, it’s brutal, harder than any part of qualifying to be a firefighter, any of the times he’s had to do it. Buck sits, turns on the TV, and opens his beer, and acts like Eddie’s a piece of furniture.

At least, that’s hopefully what it seems like from Eddie’s perspective. Buck, on the couch, watching TV, sipping his beer, and ignoring Eddie, even though really the TV is a meaningless blur of light.

Eddie keeps shifting his weight, turning his head toward Buck in aborted movements that never quite make it to looking at Buck. Eventually he starts to still. His head bows, his fingers knead dreamily at his thighs, and a flush creeps up the back of his neck.

He’s a work of fucking art, is what he is.

“Good,” Buck says, as Eddie’s posture relaxes. “That’s good, Eddie.”

Eddie whispers, “Buck,” sounding breathless and lost.

“Hush.” Buck puts a hand on Eddie’s head, scratches at his scalp gently, and Eddie melts, pushing into Buck’s fingers. “You’re a good listener, you know that? When you’re not being a total dick.”

“I’m – I’m sorry,” Eddie whispers raggedly.

“Shhh,” Buck says, and slides his hand into Eddie’s hair, getting a rough grip that twists his head to the side, and watches his mouth fall open.

“I,” Eddie tries again, voice muddled, and Buck sighs.

“Maybe you need a little help right now,” he murmurs. And he’s about to push a finger or two into Eddie’s mouth, when Eddie turns himself the rest of the way and practically collapses between Buck’s legs, mouthing at his cock through his pants.

Buck’s not stupid – well, sometimes he is, sure. But he’s not often stupid about Eddie, or him and Eddie. Maybe more than anything, Buck knows desire, the tangled tugs of it; he's practically an expert. He knew - he knew what this was, but he’s still surprised. By Eddie's boldness, or by the tenuous line of friendship being crossed all at once.

He wasn’t prepared to see Eddie nuzzling into his crotch with his eyes half-closed, breathing him in deeply. And honestly, Buck couldn't have imagined Eddie going so soft, so docile, so quickly. Buck's legs shake, for a moment, at the effort of staying calm and not just slamming Eddie to the floor and –

“Is that what you need?” Buck murmurs. “Me, in your mouth?”

Eddie makes a hurt sound and buries his face against Buck’s hard cock. Says mhm all muffled, and Buck shudders at the vibration of his ruined voice, and the way he’s got his face between Buck’s legs like he’s desperate for his cock.

Buck gets his hands on the fly of his pants, but before he gets anywhere with that Eddie’s wrapped an arm under and around each one of his thighs, hot mouth opening against the thick bulge of Buck’s cock. He licks, sucks at the cloth, wraps pliant lips around the shape of Buck’s hardness, and it can’t be that pleasant for him in terms of mouthfeel, but he doesn’t seem to notice that fact.

Buck’s hands are back in Eddie’s hair, shakily combing the strands of it out of his face. Eddie’s mouth is clinging heat, a tease of pressure and faint wetness; it would be impolite for Buck to grind against Eddie’s face, cheeks and chin and slack mouth, until he came. But he wants to.

A lost sound claws its way out of Eddie, and he seals his mouth over Buck’s cock, presses his tongue to him, and Buck has to moan at the ceiling. Then he pushes Eddie back, less gently than he should, and Eddie makes a quiet, devastating sound, trying to lean back in, and Buck swears and says, “Just a second, baby, I’ve got you, I’ve got you…”

Eddie’s mouth is hanging open wide, tongue caressing his teeth. Buck would have an easier time getting his pants open if he paid attention to what he's doing, but fucking hell, he can’t look away from the dazed, flushed look on Eddie’s face.

As soon as the zipper’s down, Eddie practically pounces, and Buck has to hold him off again for another second to get his underwear and his pants out of the way.

Buck stops holding Eddie back, and Eddie starts nuzzling into him again, rubbing his cheek against Buck’s bare cock. Hints of stubble catch and throw sparks, Buck twitching, leaking against his skin. He looks at Buck, dreamy, wetness on his cheek. From Buck.

Buck might be on another plane of existence. He holds his cock in his hand and rubs the head against Eddie’s red, plush lips, circling, around and around. Like he’s putting on chapstick, Buck thinks with mild hysteria. Eddie keeps trying to turn into it, to really get his mouth on Buck, but he’s not hard to evade right now. Buck’s torturing himself as much as Eddie, but he can’t move on from this, from Eddie’s slack, open mouth, his hitching chest, his tongue visible, almost hanging out, like he’s desperate for a taste, like he’d do anything –

Eddie moans, open-mouthed, undignified, uhhh, a tremulous little sound, and Buck slides his ass to the edge of the couch, hand on Eddie’s head, pushes him down onto his cock with hands shaking from desire. Too quick, maybe, Buck doesn't know, but he's fallen to desperate within a second, needs Eddie's mouth like air. He breathes hard, hurt, ragged breaths as he fills Eddie’s velvet mouth with his cock.

“Just like that,” Buck pants, even though he’s got his hands on Eddie’s head, in his hair, moving him where he wants, Eddie’s barely doing anything other than keeping his teeth out of the way. “Oh, fuck, want to fucking live in your mouth, wanna fucking – buy property there – “

Eddie’s far gone, maybe hearing tone more than words, because that somehow makes him moan, as deep as Buck’s ever heard his voice. Buck can feel it, he swears, chest heaving, and Eddie can’t seem to stay quiet after that so he just keeps on feeling it, hearing it, along with the obscene sounds of his cock fucking into Eddie’s mouth. And somewhere in there, ignition hits fuel, and Buck’s spine bows so hard it feels like it might snap, his cock pulsing and spilling into Eddie’s waiting mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Buck gasps. His fingers are cruelly tight in Eddie’s hair, but he can’t find it in him to let go. Eddie swallows around him slowly, once, twice, three times, his eyes heavy-lidded, until oversensitivity jolts up Buck’s spine and he has to pull away. His lips are red, and he licks them again and again.

“Please,” Eddie says, barely more than a rasp. He's ruined, messy, a tear just threatening to spill over.

“Please what,” Buck says, still catching his breath.

Eddie’s mouth works, and then he just says, “Please,” again, his voice breaking halfway through the word.

“You wanna come?” Buck asks tenderly.

Eddie blinks at him. “I dunno,” he says, a little foggily, like he’s been sedated. “You. You decide.”

“I think you should ask me for that,” Buck says. He zips himself up, can’t help but enjoy the contrast between himself, zipped up, neat, and Eddie, looking exactly the way someone who’s just had their mouth fucked should.

“Ah – “ Eddie’s shaking a little. “Tell – tell me. Tell me what to do? Please?”

“That’s good, sweetheart.” Buck strokes Eddie’s hair. “Ask me to come.”

“Please can I come?” Eddie asks, breath quickening a little bit.

“Aw, Eddie.” Buck leans forward, kisses his forehead. “Not right now, no.”

Eddie whines in his throat but doesn’t object. He undresses as Buck directs, down to underwear that hides exactly nothing about how hard he is, and lies down on the couch, his head in Buck’s lap. Buck traces lines up and down his back and his arms and his shoulders, and starts the show again.

Eddie falls asleep like that, cock still half-hard in his boxer briefs, and the next thing Buck knows, he’s waking up, Eddie half on top of him.

“Eddie,” Buck says into Eddie’s hair, and Eddie stirs, hugging him closer. “Eddie. Let’s go to bed before my spine turns to dust.”

“Okay,” Eddie mumbles, letting Buck push him up to his feet and drag him to the bedroom. His long fingers circle Buck’s wrist. “Staying?”

In answer, Buck pulls Eddie down to the bed with him. Eddie folds into his chest, and his cock presses against Buck’s thigh, hard and getting harder.

“Buck.” Eddie sounds more awake. “Can I…”

“Not yet.” Buck yawns hugely. “Not ‘til I say. Okay?”

“Shit. Okay,” Eddie breathes, and turns over in Buck’s arms, back to his chest. Buck laughs quietly and wraps an arm around him, smooths a palm over his chest and pinches a nipple. “Buck. That’s – that’s not fair.”

“Did I say I'd play fair?” Buck laughs and kisses the nape of his neck. “Just relax. I've got you.”

“Okay,” comes the soft answer after a moment, and though Eddie moans and arches when Buck cups a gentle, unmoving hand over his cock, he doesn’t protest when Buck does nothing else.

Soon Eddie’s asleep again, and Buck’s heading in the same direction. Tomorrow, he’ll let Eddie come. Or...maybe the next day. No more than three days. Probably.

Eddie snuffles quietly in his sleep, one hand tangled with Buck’s, and every now and then his hips grind lazily into Buck’s other hand.

Adorable, Buck thinks, and then he’s asleep.

ohhhh, baby yess!!!
this is very hot. love buck's patience here, because really, eddie can be an absolut dick. but i trust buck can handle him <3
love it!!!

OP here, and this is absolutely perfect. Amazing, lovely soft domming! Thank you thank you thank you!

Oh my goddddd this is so fucking good!!! Picking out the clothes was SO good and I’m obsessed with the orgasm control. Thank you so much for filling this!!!

Yeah, yep, that's an excellent fill is what that is. I'm just gonna go dunk my head in some ice water now.

okay!!! it's done it's done and i hope you like it op

They went to sleep way too early, and so Buck wakes up in Eddie’s dark room at some ungodly early hour.

Slowly, thready dawn light paints a soft portrait. Eddie, devastatingly young in sleep, shadows pooling on his face. His breath puffs out between his lips, his eyes moving behind his closed lids. He’s dreaming.

Buck watches for long minutes, as the room gets brighter, as Eddie sighs and mutters and, at one point, farts for such a long time that Buck has to bury his face into his pillow to laugh hysterically.

Eventually Eddie wakes up, the way he always does, body moving before his eyes are even open. He uses an elbow as a kickstand and feels around for the gigantic water bottle he keeps by the bed. Unscrews the top and starts chugging, eyes still closed. He spills an egregious amount of water on himself and makes some caveman sounds about it, then knocks the water bottle top onto the floor and whines despairingly.

All this is somehow extremely attractive. Eddie’s unfairly hot.

“Stop laughing at me,” Eddie says, cracking one eye like a disgruntled owl. His voice is rough and slurred, not all the way awake yet.

“I am...appreciating you.” Buck slides off the bed to find the top to the water bottle, and closes it for Eddie. “In all your complexity.”

He gets back into bed, and Eddie insinuates himself slowly into Buck’s space, like he’s being sly. Even though, really, why would he have to be sly? He had Buck’s dick in his mouth yesterday.

“Morning,” Eddie says, and his face goes all determined. He kisses Buck, and Buck makes a happy sound and kisses back.

Pretty quickly, things escalate to Eddie on top of him, rocking absentmindedly against him as he kisses Buck with intent focus. Buck runs his hands all over Eddie, finding spots that make him laugh (ribs) and shiver (the small of his back, the back of his neck) and outright moan (a firm handful of his ass).

“Can,” Eddie says, after a while of that. “Um. Can I? Come?”

“Mmm, not today,” Buck says.

“Not today?” Eddie says with dismay. Buck smiles at him, a glow burning hot inside him. Eddie isn’t arguing, really, or challenging Buck’s right to tell him whether he can come or not.

“You were an ass yesterday,” Buck says peaceably. “I know you were having a hard day, but so was I, so maybe now I think you need some...consequences.”

“I’ll be good,” Eddie says plaintively, and goes red. Maybe realizing what he just admitted.

“I know you will, princess,” Buck says, and kisses his stubbled cheek. “You’re gonna be so good that you’ll wait to come until I say.”

“Fine,” Eddie says, with the slightest hint of exasperation, like he thinks Buck could have missed the pleased little slant of his mouth at the word princess.

He’s distant in moments, faraway; Buck can tell he’s thinking about the call from yesterday. But he’s okay, he’s happy, he’s not boiling over with distress. This, whatever it is, it rules.

The next morning, Eddie yawns and says, “Can you find me something to wear?”

“Y-yeah, of course,” Buck says, instantly hard, and Eddie smiles like he knows it.

Buck keeps staying at Eddie’s, goes to sleep and wakes up with Eddie clinging to him, his hard cock pressed tight between them. The third morning, Eddie rolls off him, rasps, “Do not fucking touch me,” and does deep breathing for like, fifteen minutes before his erection goes down.

They don’t talk about it. Like, they talk about it, but they don’t talk about it. Eddie might pout at Buck, shooting a meaningful glance down at his own lap; when Buck says he seems distracted, he might mutter “Well whose fault is that,” he might shrug and say “You choose,” when Buck asks what he’s wearing today. But neither of them ask, like, what the fuck they’re doing, or where it starts or ends or what it means. They just. Do it.

And during the day, at home or at work or at the grocery store, Eddie seems lighter. Relaxed, at peace, whatever. He smiles more.

Therapy is overrated, that’s what Buck has learned from all this. Weeks of therapy didn’t have the effect that kneeling, getting his mouth fucked, and four days of orgasm denial is having on Eddie.

On the fifth night, Eddie’s rock hard, red and flushed. He lets Buck do whatever he wants, moaning so pretty, and shivers and makes a sound close to a sob when Buck stops touching him and says it’s time to go to sleep. He’s not tense in Buck’s arms, exactly, but he’s clearly sensitive all over, gasps just at the soft brush of Buck’s lips on his neck.

So Buck’s not entirely surprised when he wakes up in the night to Eddie holding him tight, grinding his cock against Buck’s ass. His hips move in circles, moaning something that might have been oh, fuck, more, please, if it wasn’t just loose syllables spilling from his mouth. Buck arches back against him, gripping himself through his shorts, and Eddie’s cock presses against the cleft of his ass.

“Oh shit,” Buck hisses, too loud, pushing his ass back into Eddie’s hardness. He’s moving too much, making too much noise, but he can’t help it. Everything is heat and pressure and Eddie whining softly in his ear, he can’t be expected to care about anything else. Buck pushes the waistband of his own shorts down and starts to work his cock, hard and fast.

Eddie starts moving with more energy, more purpose. He’s waking up, Buck’s waking him up, fuck, he's going to wake up like this – Buck groans at the thought, and Eddie groans as if in response, and says, all slurred, “Buck?”

His hips don’t stop moving, though, and then his hands go hard on Buck. He’s coming, his cock pulsing against Buck’s ass, his open mouth pressed to Buck’s neck as he moans, high and breathy and totally unrestrained.

“Holy fucking shit,” Eddie gasps, hips still twitching against Buck. “Oh my god.”

A clumsy hand flops over to Buck’s front, bats his hand away from his cock and takes over with uncoordinated strokes – not that it matters, with Eddie all over his back, wrapped around him, chest still hitching and the hint of a whine in each breath.

“Eddie – Eddie – “ Buck can’t say anything else, just Eddie’s name, with shivery reverence. “Eddie, fuck.”

“That’s right, come on, I want it,” Eddie whispers, and sinks his teeth into Buck’s neck, and Buck comes into Eddie's palm with a moan.

Eddie wipes his come hand on Buck’s shirt after a moment.

“Come on,” Buck says, “really?”

Eddie honestly giggles. Buck makes him turn over so he can gather Eddie up in his arms, and Eddie hums and stretches luxuriously, pulling Buck’s arm over him more securely.

“I wasn’t…” His words are running together, drawn out and sleepy. “Wasn’t supposed to.”

“It’s okay, princess,” Buck murmurs. “Go to sleep.”

He holds Eddie tight, and his heart is so full he thinks his chest might explode.

The next morning, Eddie’s sheepish, a little red, hilariously annoyed at the amount of dried come in his boxers. He doesn’t ask Buck to pick his clothes, and Buck tries not to take it personally. It would be ridiculous to think that this – whatever they’re doing, would be in play every moment of the day. Sometimes a guy just has to get dressed.

But if Buck could decide what Eddie wears every single day, he would. Of course he would.

A few days later, Eddie gets the call from Chris saying he wants to come home. That’s how he says it, too – not that he wants to come to Los Angeles, but home. Eddie keeps calm, but Buck can see that he’s about ready to yell with joy about it.

When he gets off Facetime with Chris, Eddie hurls himself at Buck, actually tackling him to the couch, and Buck yelps delighted laughter. The next while, Buck spends getting kissed until his lips are buzzing.

Eventually, Eddie pulls back, shoves and pulls Buck until he’s lying on top of Eddie. Eddie is wired with excitement and tension, probably close to freaking out even though it’s about something amazing, if Buck knows him.

“Buck,” Eddie says, and stops, biting his lip.

“Yeah, princess?” Buck says, with a kiss to his forehead.

Eddie rolls his eyes, smiling huge and bright, and says, “Can you, can you – you know? I need…” He bites his lip again, looking frustrated. But he’s easy to understand, at least for Buck.

“You want me to tell you to do something?” Buck asks, and Eddie’s cheeks shade red.

“It just…it makes me feel…” Eddie makes a vague gesture. “I don’t know. Better. Grounded. I just, I need to have my head on straight.”

Buck combs Eddie’s hair back from his forehead. “Anything you want,” he says.

They go to the kitchen, and Buck makes Eddie his assistant, instructing him on every little thing, making him call Buck “Chef” for fun, and then because it makes Eddie blink hard and trip over his words. Partway through, he tells Eddie to take his shirt off, so Buck can watch his blush spread down his chest.

Eddie’s squirmy, getting hard, shooting Buck those wide-eyed looks, and Buck returns them, glances at the hard bulge in Eddie’s sweats to make him even redder.

Later, Eddie falls to his knees, looking up at Buck with love and supplication. Grounded, that’s how he said Buck makes him feel. And that Buck can be this, want this, be trusted with all of Eddie - that makes Buck feel like he can fly, winging straight up into endless blue.

oh my god yes!!
and don't even get me wrong, because this is hot as hell and like, really hot, but it's the nonsexual intimacy that gets me. the farting especially. like. yeah. can't get more intimate then that. and buck laughing about it delightedly. jesus. yeah. i love this so so so much <3

I loved this, anon.

Absolutely crazy and soooo intimate. I loved it so much—Eddie’s vulnerability, Buck’s total devotion to him. Like…there each other’s guys!! And you’ve rendered this so well here :’)

OP here, and this is the BEST BEST BEST response to a prompt I have ever received! Thank you ♥

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