miranda613
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There's a clear plastic container on the kitchen table. Eddie sets the bag down warily on the counter, approaches it warily, as if it's a live grenade. Which is prescient, he realizes a moment later.
It is, as the message suggested, a cake. A small one, sized so that a person could eat it in a single sitting if they were feeling greedy and indulgent. Chocolate layers, topped with a silky-looking ganache; Buck even sprinkled little curls of white chocolate around the edges for decoration. Lettering piped in bright red frosting, uneven but perfectly legible, reads, DON'T IGNORE ME, I SUCKED YOUR DICK.
Bookmarked by miranda613
20 Jun 2026
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“How do people have sex when they have kids?” Buck continues, knowing he’s whining a little bit, but he’s pent up, and Theo came into his life without warning so he didn’t have time to mentally prepare for everything it would entail. Namely, what it would mean for Buck’s sex life.
Eddie’s face is kind of red, but he says, in that matter of fact way he always does, “Theo’s asleep right now.”
Bookmarked by miranda613
30 May 2026
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Buck forces himself to slow down, take a second. Replay the last five minutes in his head. He can look at this logically, assess the facts: he and Eddie had gone out. He and Eddie had a few drinks. He and Eddie had been shooting the shit and now he’s rifling through his nightstand, grabbing for a device that keeps your dick from getting hard.
Because Buck said he’d show it. To Eddie.
or: fȯr-ˈber-ən(t)s [noun] - patient self-control; restraint and tolerance under provocation
Bookmarked by miranda613
01 Mar 2026
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There was a space, in the silence, where he could have said something; where Buck could have. Neither of them spoke.
Eddie moved again. He told himself he was just settling in, and maybe there was some truth to that, the indent of Buck's body in the mattress creating a sort of inevitable gravity, drawing Eddie in.
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Or: Eddie, and Buck, and a motel room in the middle of nowhere with only one bed.
Bookmarked by miranda613
28 Feb 2026
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"You know," Eddie says. "I used to dance."
Buck hums into Eddie's shoulder. Eddie can feel it, the vibration against the fabric of his shirt, because they're pressed up against each other, here in the middle of Buck's kitchen. They have been for a while now, in what started as a hug. Somewhere around the second minute, Eddie stopped being sure what exactly to call this.
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scene fic prompt for: slow dancing, and this is a very long hug now sort of hug + 🥰
Series
- Part 6 of fic prompts
Bookmarked by miranda613
15 Feb 2026