911
(Open, Moderated, Anonymous)
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Summary
“I don’t know, she’s cute. Nice.” Eddie shrugs again, and Buck has to refrain from snapping 'that’s the spirit!' He can be supportive. He can.
He can try.
“That’s it?” Buck tilts his head, huffing a breath that he thinks sounds enough like a chuckle.
“I don’t know. She’s a nurse, I think. She loves kids and science, I think Chris’d really like her.”
It only takes a second. Something in Buck cracks open and magma pours out, scorching heat that spreads and burns through every inch of his flesh. He doesn’t have time to rein it in; he scoffs against his better judgment, mumbling barely under his breath, “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”
Or : Eddie is about to repeat past mistakes, and Buck finally snaps.
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Summary
Like tonight, he’s cross-legged on said couch with a bowl of spaghetti in his lap, a fork twirling to scoop some of it up. He’s barely paying attention to what Eddie’s putting on—they’ve been watching The British Bake-Off like they do this time of year every year.
Eddie is already settled beside him, his dinner perched precariously on his knee.
“I’ve got a date this Friday,” Eddie says, beer in one hand and TV remote in the other. He says it like it’s casual, like it’s nothing. It almost could be, if he didn’t immediately follow it with—“He’s taking me to the game.”
Buck’s pretty sure the entire world comes to a halt. His brain certainly does.
His fork pauses mid-twist, the soft aromatic smell of tomato, parmesan and pasta falling on numbed senses.
OR
Kinktober day five: Masturbation
Series
- Part 5 of Kryptonian Fictober 2025
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Summary
They had both used a week of annual leave in order to volunteer to chaperone at the camp when they were doing call outs, but the message that the volunteers were appreciated but no longer necessary did not make it to them, unfortunately. They had told Bobby they could work and tried to take their leaves back, but unfortunately the backfilling was already all done. Now, they just had a week off work that they had to figure out what to do with, as two busybodies who never did downtime well.
“So a full week with no work, an empty house, and no kid. What should we do?”
Eddie kisses his teeth and thinks before a devious smile crosses his face. “Wanna try making more?”
" Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday
Seven days a week
Every hour, every minute, every second
You know night after night
I'll be loving you right, seven days a week " -
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Summary
It’s been six weeks since he agreed to be Connor and Kameron’s sperm donor. That means it’s been six weeks since he’s gotten off. He’s been refraining from it in an effort to produce the best donation possible. It would be devastating to agree to help Connor and have it be unsuccessful because of something on his part. He’s also been refraining from almost everything enjoyable in life, but this is the one that’s causing the problem.
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Buck's abstinence during his sperm donor days has some interesting side effects.
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Summary
A year ago at that bachelor party, so drunk he was draped across Buck’s lap with his nose buried in all the intoxicating silky heat beneath the notch of Buck’s jaw, Eddie asked Buck what he smelled like to him.
It’s not a question you’re supposed to ask, but Eddie forgets the rules sometimes. Ignores them. Things like that don’t matter between him and Buck, they never have.
He’s still not sure what he expected Buck to say. Nothing, maybe, which he assumed was the truth, Eddie’s scent faded to barely echo of what it should be. But Buck had taken Eddie’s jaw in one hand, had tipped his head back so the line of his neck was bared to Buck like an offering, had stopped to scent him with his mouth still open, had said against Eddie’s sweat-tacky skin, so low his voice thrummed in his chest, You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever met.
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Eddie hasn’t gone into heat since he presented at seventeen. But living with an alpha who takes care of him for the first time in his life is about to change that.