poisionroot
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- 9-1-1 (TV) (1)
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Summary
“Oh! You’re military? It’s on the house then! Thank you for your service, Eddie.” The blond’s words make Eddie’s breath catch in his throat, and his fingers crumple the bills nestled between them, his mouth suddenly going dry. He’s been thanked for his service, and it’s always left a dim, sour taste in his mouth… but from this pretty boy bartender’s mouth?
Eddie has to take a swig of his free beer to collect himself.
“So,” Eddie says as his thumb rubs a slow path up and down the label of his beer, swiping through condensation, “Do I get your name, pretty boy, or is it only for people who order more than one drink?”
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or; army eddie gets stationed in peru and gets it on with bartender buck
Series
- Part 56 of buddie by tired
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Summary
Eddie looked like he'd been through a war with his mattress and lost. Hair sticking up at odd angles, eyes still heavy-lidded with sleep, stubble darkening his jaw. He wore grey sweatpants slung on his hips, and a faded black t-shirt that had clearly seen better days.
What really caught his attention though, was the text on the t-shirt. Across Eddie's chest, in bold white letters: WARNING! CHOKING HAZARD, accompanied with a large downwards pointing arrow.
Pointing straight down to Eddie's crotch.
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or; Eddie's wearing a pretty suggestive shirt, Buck's not faring very well.
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Summary
"You know," Buck continues, tracing his finger along Eddie's jawline, dragging it down and over the Alpha's Adam apple. "If you wanted to fuck me, Captain, that's all you had to say. There's no need to be so dramatic."
"Buck," Eddie tries, ignoring the primal urge inside of him that roars for him to fuck, breed, claim. "Buck, I am your Captain. You report to me, I—I'm supposed to take care of you. What I did was inappropriate, I'm—I'm like 20 years older than you."
"If you're supposed to take care of me, why haven't you bent me over this desk and stuck your knot inside me?"
OR: Buck flirts with a teammate. His Captain doesn't take too kindly to it.
Series
- Part 1 of buddie gifts ᥫ᭡.
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Summary
Buck holds his gaze for a beat before nodding slowly. Eddie guides him back toward the sink, stepping aside at the last second and tipping Buck’s head up to expose the dark mark blooming on his throat to the mirror.
“Should do a whole line of ’em sometime,” Eddie says quietly. “Make a pretty collar out of it.”
Buck looks dazed, already slipping under. “Uh-huh.”
Eddie shifts his grip, cradling Buck’s jaw instead, leaning in until their noses brush. “Wanna fuck you here. Remind my puppy who he belongs to. That okay?”
Their heads almost collide violently with how hard and quick Buck nods. “Yeah, y-yeah. Fuck me. I’m yours, you know that,” he agrees, easily. “Holy shit, Eddie. What has gotten into you?”
Eddie hates the possessiveness. The jealousy. It twists something ugly in his gut every time it surfaces. But this isn’t about reminding Buck. Not really. It’s about reminding himself—Buck is his. He isn’t going anywhere. There’s no one Buck wants more than him.
His hand glides down the side of Buck’s neck, landing on his shoulder, before nudging him downward to his knees. “Down.”
OR Eddie is jealous. He fucks Buck against a wall of mirrors about it.
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Summary
"Christopher told this story in class about his dad rescuing people from the water during the Santa Monica tsunami. But uh...that's not my story."
It took Buck several moments to fully understand the weight of those words, a look of horror crossing his face. "Oh- oh! I am so sorry if I've overstepped. Do you want me to talk to him?"
"It made me happy, Buck." Eddie laughed softly, reaching to take his friend's hand to catch his full attention. "My son thinks of you as way more than just his dad's friend, and I think that made me finally realise...so do I."