What would a fic with the title “the rot and the bloom” be? 💚
hi hj!!
okay hear me out—bucktommy florist au WITH A TWIST!!
(tw death mention, minor character death beneath the cut)
tommy loves his job as a florist. it honestly wasn’t his first choice at careers but after his medical discharge from the military he knew he needed something a little more slower paced, so when he saw the ad for extra help at the little flower shop a few blocks from his place, he figured he might as well throw his hat in.
besides he grew up helping his mom tend to the garden that day outside their home as a kid, he knows the basics of flower care and all their meanings.
(a part of him thinks he only really got the job cause the old woman who runs the shop, miss beatrice—betty, as she reminds tommy oh so often, needed a stronger pair of hands carrying all the supplies around the shop, but he’s not one to complain)
a little while into the job, tommy finds out that one of betty’s main customers is, surprisingly enough to tommy, the local funeral home.
betty explains she supplies the main floral arrangements for them and their funeral services and at first tommy doesn’t have much of a thought about it. he gets it. dead people need their flowers too.
but it becomes something more than that. after a while of betty’s teaching him color theory and giving him a refresher on flower meaning, she starts trusting him to put some bigger arrangements—one of them being a funeral at said funeral home. and tommy starts to get it.
the arrangement is for a man a little older than tommy’s age. his name is roger from what the invoice notes says. his favorite flowers were daisies. his favorite color was blue.
tommy’s is too.
he takes a lot of care in putting everything together. in giving roger a nice arrangement that he would have hopefully appreciated. it takes him longer to get this one right and after a few attempts he finally finishes everything up in time for the procession.
he shows up early as instructed (a job that once again used to be betty’s, but do to her worsening eyesight, they keys to the delivery van are firmly in tommy’s palms). admittedly he does get a little lost trying to find someone who works at the funeral home cause aside from a time, he wasn’t given much detail
thankfully after what seems like a creepy amount of time to be lost at a funeral home, a man about tommy’s height dressed in a suit eventually bumps into him—quite literally as they both round the corner too fast.
they share very hurried apologies and tommy double checks the arrangement he’s holding isn’t damaged, which thankfully to tommy’s relief, it’s isn’t.
“that’s a really beautiful arrangement you have.”
tommy glances over and the blue-eyed stranger, who’s gazes almost awkwardly flickers between tommy and the flowers. it’s honestly a little cute.
“thank you,” tommy murmurs. at first, he wonders if this guy is just here attending one of the services, until tommy spots a name tag—Evan— it reads. “oh great i was trying to find someone who could help me, so you know where roger gray’s service is going to be held? i got a little lost trying to find it.”
the man—evan—beams up at him. “you’re the florist!” he says like the pieces just clicked for him. tommy can’t help but give him a teasing look for it. evan shakes his head laughing to himself. “sorry, obviously you are. bobby just told me to me ‘betty would be stopping by with everything’ and um…”
“i could be betty,” tommy says dryly.
“are you?” evan asks with a smile.”
“take off a few inches and give it a few years, we could be twins.” tommy sticks out his hand. “i’m tommy. i help out betty at the shop.”
evan takes his hand into a firm shake, but tommy can’t also help but notice just how warm and soft the guys hands are. it’s fine. everything’s fine.
“very nice to meet you tommy. here i’ll lead you to where you need to set everything up.”
and he does. tommy’s maybe two seconds into trying to come up with small talk questions in his head before evan suddenly turns to him and asks, “what kind of flowers are those?”
tommy looks over, a little surprised. not cause of the question but cause of the tone hidden in the words. it’s not the first time someone’s asked him that, but there’s something about the way evan asks him. like it’s not just curiosity, but genuine interest.
his lips curl into a smile as tommy gets to explain all his flower choices, what is what and why he paired them together.
and with each answer, evan smiles and asks another question. even at one point going on a little ramble about pollinators (he watched a documentary a few weeks ago and he’s since has had a newfound appreciation for bees)
and oddly enough in this place that should be filled with such dread and grief, tommy can’t help but notice this small warm blooming potential settling in between the two of them
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send me a fic title and i’ll tell you what fic id write for it!!
He woke up gasping for air and shaking, a cold sweat coating his body. He could still feel the flames licking his skin, more accurately, at his right arm. The electricity was still there, pulsating through him with agonizing intensity.
He brought his knees to his chest and tried to breathe through the pain and terror coursing through his veins. He repeated his mantra: “Nothing is happening, everything is okay.” And for the most part, everything was. He had been managing this on his own for a while and nothing bad had happened.
He was almost sure that he had managed to fool everyone: Star, Tom, Pony Head, River, Moon. Seemingly everyone he’d had regular, day-to-day contact with thought he was fine; that maybe he just missed Earth.
He had been ignoring the voice since he laid hands on the wand.
And he would continue to ignore the voice. Ignore the urge to steal the wand. Ignore the pain coursing through him, day in and day out. He would continue to ignore the vivid images, the smell of blood and that agonizing electricity that haunted him in daydreams.
The pain and panic lasted until morning, but he would manage. He always did.
After all, this wasn’t the first time Marco Diaz had dreamt of committing a Mewman massacre.
tagged by the absolutely amazing @hippolotamus (thank you!!)
rules: write for a full minute and share the snippet!
i haven’t been writing a whole lot but thankfully i do have a spare minute to at least tweak some wips i do have, so here’s this little snippet :)
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“Good girl,” he coos nice and soft, not withholding any ounce of affection in his tone. Tommy doesn’t want Eddie to think for a second he doesn’t mean it. He palms his hands over the curve of Eddie’s ass, running them up and along his thighs soothingly. “Just like that. Relax your body for me.”
—————
no pressure tagging - @devirnis @shyaudacity @aroeddiediaz
Eddie Diaz. This six-foot 200-something pound of muscle firefighter who, by all visual means, looks like the epitome of an Alpha. He’s strong, caring, family-oriented, and keeps to himself for the most part, save for the people he’s close with. Buck didn’t consider anything else that could apply to Eddie besides being an alpha just like him.
Which, in all honestly, is why he postured the hell out of the guy the first time they met. God, looking back on it, Buck couldn’t have looked like a bigger fucking idiot trying to stake claim over his pact in front of this stranger, only to allow said stranger inside his circle the minute Buck calmed the fuck down.
One of the better decisions of his life for sure.
He couldn’t even begin to think of what his life would be like if he just constantly kept Eddie on the outskirts. Buck doesn’t even want to indulge in the thought.
Both he and Chris are so intrinsic in this self-healing ecosystem that makes up all three of their lives; Buck wouldn’t trade it for anything, honestly. Which is probably why he didn’t even blink when Eddi had sat him down all jittery and nervous, hands fiddling with a loose thread on his jeans as he explained that he was, in fact, an omega.
so i’m alive!! if you’ve seen my posts life has been really fucked and crazy but thankfully everything has gotten to a decently stable place now (thank GOD) so yeah i’m writing where i can and i randomly got this buddietommy inspiration the other day so uhhhh hope yall appreciate the brain worms LMAO
(nsfw beneath the cut!!)
“You think I should get the cuffs for him?”
Eddie’s heartbeat hammers so hard against his chest that, for a moment, he’s almost positive it's gonna fucking shoot out of him like a Looney Tunes character.
Tommy glances down at him, head tilted with a wolfish smile curling at his lips. “No. I think our toy is gonna be good for us tonight.” Tommy punctuates the last word of his sentence with a filthy roll of his hips.
Ohhh Christ, Eddie is fucking burning alive. His skin is scorched, every inch of him boiling, going fucking hysterical at the thought.
Finally, something in him screams. Finally. Finally. Finally.
Beside him, he can feel Buck beam, and the hand rested on his chest drifts up before carefully cradling his throat. He doesn’t even have to squeeze, but the motion itself is already enough to have Eddie’s eyes fluttering shut. “You wanna be a good toy for us, baby?” Buck murmurs, nose brushing along Eddie’s temple as he whispers delightfully in his ear. “Let us use you properly?”
If that wasn't enough to get him beyond hot and bothered, the sudden euphoric feeling of Tommy clenching around Eddie’s cock involuntarily. A sharp shockwave of pleasure shoots straight down Eddie’s spine, every muscle in his body clenching for a moment.
Fuck.
Eddie nods dumbly, his mind so lost and aimless, just barely remembering to answer the question Buck posed to him. He’s so painfully hard, and everything he wants is so, so close in front of him.
The hand at his throat tightens, guiding Eddie closer until he can feel, Buck’s breath puffing alongside his temple, eager teeth peeking through to nip at the shell of his ear in warning. “Words, Eddie,” he reminds in that deep timbre that has Eddie lightheaded in all the best ways. “...Unless I was wrong for thinking that mouth of yours is useful for more than being fucked.”
O-Oh fuck.
Eddie whines, back arching at the words and that sweetly degrading air that Buck carries. The one that makes him feel so wholly loved and worshiped. Distantly, he can hear Tommy curse as Eddie's cock throbs heavily from inside of him.
“Yes. Y-Yeah, I’ll be good. I promise.”
Buck smiles, pressing delight into Eddie’s skin. That sweet and so deeply proud air surrounding him in the small gesture, like Eddie just promised to hang up extra stars in the sky just for him.
no pressure tagging - @devirnis @kitteneddiediaz @aroeddiediaz @jeeyuns
tagged by the bestest @eddiebabygirldiaz and @hippolotamus
hi! yay! not dead! (trust me im just as surprised!) speaking of, i actually have something to share this time!! it ain't much but its honest work
anyways have some buddietommy cause im nothing if not predictable :3
“Please,” Eddie gasps. Wild and restless. Pleasure crashes into his body like storm-ridden waves striking the shore. He can’t stop it. Can’t control it. Just feel it. Every touch and stroke from Tommy and Buck’s hands.
“Please, what?” Buck teases, his smile pressing into Eddie’s jaw, wolfish teeth and all.
Eddie’s head fucking spins. God, is the room spinning? It feels like it is. He swallows, heavily trying to get his tongue to work. “Please, can I come? I’m— I’m so close, I want to so bad, please.”
Beside him, Tommy huffs a laugh into his throat. Deep and dripping in sinister lust. “Yeah?” he urges. “You need it that bad, sweetheart?”
:3 tags below the cut
im sure most of my mutals have done this already so im very sorry if you've been tagged already so no pressure!!
a fun little prompt fill for @kitteneddiediaz (ty!!) sorry my dumbass deleted the original ask on accident so this will have to do the best it can lmaoo
addicted to the prettier things
paring: buck x eddie
word count: 1.9k
tw: n/a
rating: explicit
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prompt fill for 57. “you’re so flushed, pretty girl” // 128. “keep doing that, please”
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So yeah, safe to say it really shouldn’t have been a surprise when Buck had leaned in once more, hand rested on Eddie’s inner thigh, and whispered if he wanted to head somewhere a little more private.
Eddie might’ve missed a couple of hints up until that point, but he certainly wasn’t missing the meaning of that.
It didn’t take much after that exchange before he and Buck found themselves in a locked bar bathroom, lips eagerly searching for any remnant of open skin, the thoughts of their friends and half-finished drinks long forgotten.
Not that Eddie’s complaining. He absolutely isn’t. If anything, complaining is the last thing he’s doing now, his attention infinitely more focused on the taste of his boyfriend’s tongue as Buck strokes him with such a gorgeously sweet pace.
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or the one where eddie looks exceptionally good on their night out and buck decides to jack his boyfriend off about it.
