41 - 60 of 457 Bookmarks by brain_ded_666
Navigation
List of Bookmarks
-
Tags
Summary
Stiles can’t afford gifts for the pack this year, so he offers each of them a personalised “act of service” instead.
Unfortunately, these acts range from heartwarming to emotionally hazardous to physically hazardous to just downright legally questionable.
***
“Okay,” he said as soon as it connected. “Don’t be alarmed, but I think I’ve just been shot.”
-
Tags
Summary
Stiles just couldn't tell them that his friend was Death. The actual Death. Pale Horse of the Foursome Horseman. One of two things would happen, they wouldn't believe him—because come-on, who would—or they would freak out and demand the how and why. So he went with an alternate choice.
"Grim, his name is Grim." He wasn't really lying, one of Death names is Grim... Reaper.
Bookmarked by brain_ded_666
23 Apr 2025
Bookmarker's Tags:
Bookmarker's Notes
"I can have friends. I do have a friend." Stiles switched his glare over to Jackson when he asked, "What is your so-called friend's name then, Stilinski?"
Stiles just couldn't tell them that his friend was Death. The actual Death. Pale Horse of the Foursome Horseman. One of two things would happen, they wouldn't believe him—because come-on, who would—or they would freak out and demand the how and why. So he went with an alternate choice.
"Grim, his name is Grim." He wasn't really lying, one of Death names is Grim... Reaper.
"Grim? Really? You suspect us to believe you know someone by name Grim?" Jackson really needed to stay out of other peoples' business.
"Actually, I do. We met a couple years ago. He's not really a people person, likes to stay invisible, so to say." It was kind of ironic. A person can only see Death if that person is dead, dying, or Death shows himself. The other thing is if the person is Stiles.
When they met, Death was taking—what he explained later—the souls from the Hale House Fire. Stiles were there because he was running around the woods when he smelt smoke, he was ten at the time, so naturally he was curious.
Death called him 'Special'. He said that people with a 'Spark' had abilities unlike any other human or supernatural kind. Since he was a child, he bypassed the supernatural part until years later. All Stiles knew at the time was he saw something he wasn't supposed to see.After the Hale Fire, Death visits him every week, and they would talk about everything and anything. His dad thought he had an imaginary friend. When his mother died a year later, Death also took her soul and promised she was in a better place. Stiles didn't talk to him for months after that—even though he still came around every week—he just lost his mother and Death was at fault. Death explained once again that it was natural, and he couldn't break it or worse things were to come. After four months of silence between them, Stiles broke.
From then on, they maintained a friendship. Some days Death felt like his best friend, others like a another father. The man was as old as God, he had some wise tips for certain situations. It was all Death fault when Derek and himself got together. Death gave him 'advice' that the reason for the manhandling against the wall and the rude remarks, was Derek's way of showing Stiles he liked him. Not the best way, but the next time they were alone, Stiles kissed him. Stiles suspected Derek to push him away, instead he did the quiet opposite, slamming him against the wall, and continuing the kiss.
Even now at age seventeen, Death made his weekly trips to come see him. Stiles asked him once did he have anyone else, but he just looked out in the distance, and muttered a quiet 'No'. It was quiet the rest of that day. The next week, Death apologized, and explained there was not many people who could see him, and those who could always wanted something for him. Rather it be to bring a loved one back, or take them instead. It was one the reason he liked to stay invisible to the outside world.
-Derek order Scott—who whined about privacy—and Isaac to follow him in the direction where Stiles went. And ordered the others to stay put. Derek only brought Scott because he knew even though he knew Stiles the best of everyone, Derek knew it bugged him that Stiles was keeping something from him. They shifted and ran in the direction to where Stiles scent, leading them to the preserve. Derek and the other step closer to the edge of the preserve to see Stiles in the middle of it. He seemed to be talking, but no one was there. 'Maybe he is just rambling on like he usually does.' Derek thought. He was about to motion to Scott and Isaac to leave until Stiles laughed. "Derek an ass, but I love him." Derek heart tighten at the words. They haven't told each other anything but that they cared for each other. What was weird is that it seemed Stiles was having a conversion with someone who wasn't there. Derek sniffed the other only to cough when the smell of death surged into his nose. Stiles snapped his eyes in his direction. Derek saw his eye's widen and a tint blush was noticeable. Stiles looked in the other direction and his blush got darker. Stiles waved all three over till Derek stood right in front of him. Derek helped him up when he raised his arms up. "What you doing here, Derek?"
"You're keeping something from us, and I want to know what."
Derek saw Stiles open his mouth only to be interrupted by a new voice. "Just tell them, Stiles. They were bound to find out at some point." Derek eyes flicker to red from the strange man that pop out of nowhere. "Why don't you introduce us?"
"Um, well. Guys, this is Death. Death this is Derek, Isaac, and Scott."
-
Tags
Summary
In which Stiles didn't have time to get bullied: he had bigger things going on, thank you very much. So, really, it wasn't his fault he didn't notice until it was too late to bring up.
And as he looked at the rainbow of bruises that'd become his body, he quickly realized it was much, much too late to bring it up.
His pack disagrees.
Series
- Part 1 of Unrelated Teen Wolf Fics
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,428
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 8
- Kudos:
- 749
- Bookmarks:
- 118
- Hits:
- 4,966
Bookmarked by brain_ded_666
23 Apr 2025
Bookmarker's Tags:
Bookmarker's Notes
A few months later and it wasn’t just getting ‘pushed around’ and it certainly wasn’t only ‘every now and then.’
Even his pride wasn’t so strong that he couldn’t admit he was getting the shit beat out of him every single day (not to himself, at least).
He’d have to be stupid to deny it, and according to his transcripts (plural, as Lydia had forced him into dual enrollment in the local community college with her), Stiles was anything but.
He wasn’t upset no one noticed— he didn't have any right to be be when he hadn’t even noticed for the first few months.
He didn’t blame them; he knew they’d do something if they knew. All it would take was him saying the word.
And yet he couldn’t.
He was the weak one in the group, this was a fact: most of them were literal werewolves, Allison had military-grade hunter training, and Lydia was… well she was something, they didn’t quite know what yet.
Stiles had no special powers or training. He was only there because he’d been in the right place at the right time often enough to become a constant in their lives— something he was eternally grateful for. It wasn’t like he really brought anything to the table; he was just… there.
He really didn’t want to remind them how useless he was.
And, beyond that, he sincerely wouldn’t know how to bring it up if he wanted to: admitting he could face murderers and fairy tale monsters without flinching but crumpled at a high school bully was just humiliating.
So he kept it to himself and tried not to be caught alone at school very often.
It wasn’t exactly a foolproof plan.
-Stiles most definitely could not do this.
It was late at night when everything came crashing down.
He and Lydia were on a walk by a stream in the preserve, just talking, hardly able to see two feet in front of them in the dark.
Stiles was glad he’d gotten over his crush; it was amazing to be able to talk to her like a normal human. They had a lot in common and he found he (platonically) loved her even more when he got to know her. He respected that she was with Jackson and she respected him (as much as Lydia Martin respected anyone, at least) in turn.
He still joked about his 10-year plan, of course, but mostly only to annoy Jackson.
On their walk, they were going through the latest school gossip, the rest of the pack back at Derek’s house doing… who knew what, honestly. They’d gotten bored and wandered off.
“So Danny’s boyfriend is from our rival school, right? And he plays lacrosse.”
“U-huh,” Stiles agreed, kicking a rock ahead of him.
“So Jackson wants Danny to use this to steal their playbook.”
Stiles burst out laughing— “Oh that’s so on brand for him.”
“I know, but it gets better because Danny’s boyfriend— Augh!” She yelled as she slipped on a wet rock, falling backward with a thud.
“Woah, are you okay?” Stiles asked, instantly kneeling by her side.
“Ugh, yeah,” she groaned, sitting up and making a disgusted face at her soaked shirt— her upper body had gone into the stream.
Stiles winced sympathetically. “Here,” he said, pulling off his sweatshirt and helping her to her feet before handing it to her and turning around. It wasn’t like he could see her (or anything at all), but it was the principle of the matter.
“Thanks,” she said, and from the sound of it she changed.
“Wanna head back?” He asked.
“Ugh, yes.”
Stiles nodded and waited till she started walking before catching up, not wanting to accidentally look (because, whether he could see or not, he was a gentleman, thank you very much).
He casually took the soaked shirt from her hands, carrying it himself and waving her off when she thanked him.
“So Danny’s boyfriend?”
She laughed, teeth chattering slightly, and continued her story.
They made it back to the house and Stiles made a show of opening the door for her.
She laughed and stepped through and he followed her up to the living room where everyone sat.
“Hey gu— woah, Stiles, what the fuck?” Scott asked.
“Huh?” He asked. “Oh, Lydia slipped near the river, I gave her my hoodie,” he explained, holding up her soaked shirt. “I can go throw this in the dryer if that’s chill with you.”
To his surprise, everyone was still staring at him in horror, including Lydia.
“I didn’t look? It was dark anyway, and—“ he looked down and saw his arms, well-hidden beneath colorful sleeves of bruises.
“Ohhhh,” he said. “Right. Forgot. My bad. Any chance we can ignore this?”
-
Tags
Summary
“What’s going on?”
Scott made a strange, whiny noise at the back of his throat that made him sound a little like a kicked puppy. “Your scent.” He pulled on Stiles’s hoodie until their noses were practically touching.
“Scott, buddy, you’re going to have to be more specific.” Stiles rubbed a circle on the back of Scott’s hand with his thumb. “You know I don’t have werewolf senses.”
“You smell like… like…” Scott fumbled for words, his brow furrowed deeply. His eyes started to look a little wet, and that was something Stiles could not deal with.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m okay. Just tell me what’s wrong and we’ll fix it. I’ll—I dunno—shower really good, I promise.”
“You smell like something claimed you,” Scott finally said in a horrified whisper.
-
Tags
Summary
Stiles is struck by lightning then some weird things happen.
He remembered the lightning game he and Scott used to play as kids, counting the seconds between lightning and thunder to estimate the storm's proximity. By his calculations, the storm was directly overhead—thunder following lightning by less than a second. By their childish logic, the eye of the storm was less than a mile away.
Stiles runs faster.
He was nearing Derek’s house when it happened. The hairs on his arms stood on end, his ears buzzed, and his fingertips tingled. He had read and watched enough of “I Shouldn’t Be Alive” to know exactly what this meant. What he didn’t know was what he should do. Should he stop? Run? Take cover? Did lightning follow movement? Should he drop to the ground? Roll?
He kept running. Derek’s house was just ahead. If he could make it—
A deafening boom rang out, and Stiles’ vision went white. Pain engulfed him, as though his body were ablaze.
Bookmarked by brain_ded_666
19 Apr 2025
Bookmarker's Tags:
Bookmarker's Notes
The night had been crystal clear. Stiles distinctly remembered gazing up at the starry sky. He had seen several constellations—Leo, Ursa Major, Hydra—shining bright. Spring was here, Aries was here: a season of rebirth and new possibilities.
The thought made him uneasy. Things had been far too peaceful in Beacon Hills, and peace, he thought, was a fragile and fleeting thing.
The storm only heightened his unease.
The roadside lights swayed in the wind and thunder rumbled ominously in the distance. Stiles briefly wondered if he should turn around and head back to Derek’s place, crash on his couch for the night. It was closer than his new downtown apartment anyway, and for all the cheesy, predatory stereotypes about alpha protectors, Stiles couldn’t deny that he always felt safer around Derek.
But as he went to turn his Jeep around, the engine sputtered and died. Stiles dropped his head onto the steering wheel with a groan. Of course his baby chose the perfect moment to break down. The roadside lights were out, leaving him unable to see the source of the problem. If he had to guess, though, it was probably an issue with the battery.
That left him with two options: toughing it out in his Jeep on the roadside, wrapped up in his emergency blanket, or braving a ten-minute jog through the woods to Derek’s house.
-When Stiles begins to wake, the first thing he feels is the searing burn of his nerves. Every inch of him aches—his toes, his fingertips, down his spine, up to his head, even behind his eyes. He groans before he even opens them, wishing more than anything to pass out again and escape the pain.
But a moment later, the pain eases slightly, and suddenly he can hear. With effort, he forces his eyes open.
“You’re okay, Stiles,” Derek says. His voice sounds tight, strained. Stiles feels the vehicle moving beneath him, certain Derek is speeding—probably far beyond the speed limit—judging by the jarring tumbles over potholes. Derek’s hand rests on his thigh. Under any other circumstances, Stiles might find it weird, maybe even blush.
But then it hits him: the reason his pain has eased, the reason Derek sounds like he’s barely holding it together, is because Derek is taking his pain.
Stiles kicks his leg slightly, pushing Derek’s hand away. The pain returns immediately, rushing in like a tidal wave. He passes out again.
-“We gave you a physical and an echocardiogram when you came in. You’ll need to stay under observation for a few hours and return every day for the next week or so for follow-up echocardiograms. There were definitely more electrical currents running through you than there should have been. And…”
She pulls the blanket back from Stiles’ legs. From the balls of his feet up to his mid-calves are lightning-like marks. Faded pink and red, maybe following up through the veins in his body. Melissa calls them Lichtenberg figures. “They should fade within the next twenty-four hours or so.”
Stiles takes it all in. Part of him wants to crack a joke—what do they say about things that are one in a million? Getting struck by lightning is one of them, right? Of course it would happen to him. But his mind feels slower than usual, and the metaphors don’t come as easily.
Still, he knows Melissa is holding something back. He’s also surprised that he’s been awake this long without his pack or even his dad showing up. “What else?”
“There was no storm last night, Stiles. Derek didn’t see a drop of rain. The ground wasn’t even wet. There’s no sign of a storm at all. We don’t know how you got struck.”
“Great, they think it’s supernatural, then?”
Melissa nods solemnly. “The thing is, if the lightning strike was direct—as it seems to have been, based on the electrical signals in your echocardiogram—you should be dead. But you’re not. Most lightning strike victims have other symptoms too: ruptured eardrums, cataracts, neurological injuries. But… you seem fine.”
Stiles sighs and lets his head flop back onto the pillow. Ms. McCall leaves him alone to think, heading off to grab him some food after finishing up the more critical parts of his physical and asking nurse-like questions for paperwork. The second she leaves the room, Stiles shifts into analysis mode.
He focuses on the sensations in his body. The longer he’s awake, the more the pain seems to ease. Maybe it’s the drugs, but he feels like he’s genuinely healing—not just that the pain is lessening. His mind is becoming clearer, too. He isn’t sure what that might mean. On the one hand, it would be nice to have developed super healing powers after being struck by lightning. On the other hand, Stiles enjoyed being human. The thought of fearing what his own body could do, relearning how to control his own mind, scares him. He thinks of the Nogitsune. He thinks of Lydia screaming, lost in the woods.
-
"Wait, We’re Dating?" By: Derek "I Thought This Was a Date" Hale by LostInTheAlibi
Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV)
13 Apr 2025
Tags
Summary
Derek thinks he and Stiles are dating. Stiles thinks Derek’s been weirdly touchy lately, but like, maybe that’s just a wolf thing?
Spoiler: It’s not.
Bookmarked by brain_ded_666
19 Apr 2025
Bookmarker's Tags:
Bookmarker's Notes
Stiles is halfway through his curly fries when Derek grabs one straight off his plate.
“Rude,” Stiles says, pointing a fry at him in accusation. “Boundaries, man.”
Derek blinks at him. “You said I could share.”
“When?”
“Last week. At the movies. You offered me popcorn and said, and I quote, ‘Sharing is caring, and I care about you, big guy.’”
Stiles pauses, mid-chew. “I also said I’d marry Scott that night because he smuggled in nachos. It was a vibe, not a legally binding agreement.”
Derek raises an eyebrow and dips the fry in Stiles’ sauce like he owns the place. “I thought we were past the vibe stage.”
“What vibe stage? What other stage is there?”
Now it’s Derek who pauses. His expression shifts in that slow, dawning realization that maybe—just maybe—something has gone very, very wrong.
“You…” He leans back, brows furrowed, “You don’t think we’re dating?”
Stiles chokes on his soda. “I’m sorry, what now?”
Derek looks genuinely confused. “We’ve been seeing each other every day. You bring me coffee. I’ve slept at your place four times this week. You stole one of my hoodies.”
Stiles stares at him. “Okay, first of all, I didn’t steal it. You left it, and I claimed it like any reasonable person. And second, none of that screams boyfriends, Derek! That screams codependent weirdos with no boundaries! You didn’t even kiss me!”
Derek looks like that thought physically pains him. “I was taking it slow! I didn’t want to freak you out!”
Stiles makes a wild hand gesture. “Communication, Derek! I’ve been thinking you were just extra cuddly lately!”
“You let me spoon you!”
“I thought that was a comfort thing! You had a nightmare! And I was cold!”
“I kissed your neck!”
“I thought that was accidental! You were half-asleep and you sleep like a needy cat!”
They stare at each other across the diner booth, stunned.
“I thought…” Derek runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I thought we were already—” He stops. “I really like you, Stiles.”
Stiles exhales, heart suddenly doing that thing where it jumps into his throat and starts breakdancing. “Okay. Okay, wait. I like you too. I’ve always liked you, I just thought you were, you know… being nice. In a grumpy wolf way.”
“So… you’re not mad?”
“No! I’m just—very confused. And slightly concerned about our wildly different definitions of ‘dating.’” He pauses. “But also kind of flattered?”
Derek’s mouth quirks up. “Can I officially ask you out, then?”
“Only if you stop stealing my fries.”
“No promises.”
Stiles grins. “Fine. But next time, you buy the curly fries. That’s how boyfriends work.”Derek’s smile widens—not just a smirk, not just a twitch—but a real smile, the kind that makes Stiles forget how to function for a second. It’s stupid. It’s unfair. It’s attractive in a way that should be illegal for someone who used to growl instead of talk.
-They sit on the porch swing under the blanket Derek brought from inside, sipping cocoa that’s way too sweet (because Stiles makes it like a sugar goblin), and their knees bump with every gentle sway.
“So…” Stiles starts, glancing sideways at Derek, “how long exactly did you think we were dating?”
“Roughly…” Derek pauses dramatically. “Since you made me waffles in your ‘Batman vs. Godzilla’ pajama pants.”
“That was two months ago!”
“You used real vanilla extract. That’s how I knew it was serious.”
“You absolute lunatic.”
Derek hums, totally unapologetic. “You kissed my forehead that day.”
“You were sick!”
“You tucked me in and brought me tea.”
“Oh my God, you’re insane.”
“And you called me ‘sweetheart.’”
Stiles chokes. “I did not.”
“You did. And you ran your fingers through my hair.”
“I was trying to make you nap, you overly large cuddle bug!”
Derek just sips his cocoa smugly.
Stiles buries his face in his hands and groans. “I was accidentally boyfriend-ing you this whole time.”
“And I was boyfriend-ed.”
-Scott: bro why did derek answer your phone this morning and say “he’s sleeping, boyfriend privileges” then hang up???
Stiles: …plot twist: I accidentally dated him for 3 months. we made it official. I’m thriving.
Scott: wtf how does that even happen
Stiles: I’m hot and emotionally confusing. it’s a gift
-
Tags
Summary
Not opening his eyes seems like a pretty safe move, especially when the weight whispers into his ear, a faint hissed warning of “don’t move” breathed out in Derek’s low growl.
‘Oh, thank God,’ is his initial thought, because if there was one person on this wrecked-planet he could count on to try and get him not-eaten, it was his Sourwolf.
Bookmarked by brain_ded_666
19 Apr 2025
Bookmarker's Tags:
Bookmarker's Notes
‘Oh, thank God,’ is his initial thought, because if there was one person on this wrecked-planet he could count on to try and get him not-eaten, it was his Sourwolf.
He doesn’t like the fact that two hundred and seven seconds later Derek still hasn’t even twitched atop him, or the fact that he can’t seem to move anything but his face. That just screams Kanima to him, and he was pretty sure – like 86% sure – that Jackson was still in London. Which meant a) Jackson had managed to sneak back into BH without anyone knowing and somehow decided he and Derek had pissed him off recently or b) some other paralytic-baddy had managed to get the jump on the two of them, which, if it was just Stiles, he would have shrugged and been like, 'yeah, okay', but he’d been with Derek returning from a grocery run, and almost nothing got the jump on the man after the whole ‘evolved wolf’ thing down in Mexico.
Either way, he was not looking forward to finding out, because in both cases, they were fucked.
He cracked an eye, just a sliver, and instantly wished he hadn’t.
“Is that a zombie?!” he whisper-hissed at the wolf.
“I said don’t move,” Derek hissed back, his breath hot and moist against Stiles’ flesh.
“Couldn’t even if I wanted to. What the fuck did we do to deserve zombies! Christ, I hate our lives.”
-He could hear as it tried to pull itself towards them and shuddered as the heat inched closer, knowing there was nothing he could do. Instead, he watched Stiles. Watched as his amber-brown eyes flickered copper-gold. A little too orange to be Beta-gold, a little to bright to be human.
He’d known Stiles had magic of course. He’d been there when Deaton called him a Spark and at the club with the mountain ash. He’d watched as Stiles fought off the nogitsune and seen the aftermath of the Anuk-ite. It had been one of the main reasons Stiles had postponed returning to GWU, even if he’d only been kicked out of the FBI program, and why Derek had told Noah he’d stay and watch over the young man when all he wanted to do was leave and never look back.
Stiles had been despondent, quick to anger and frustration, but he’d also about vibrated out of his skin when one of the Pack got too far away from him. Of everyone, Derek had the least to lose by staying close, and if he was being truthful, being around Stiles wasn’t a hardship. They got on better than he’d have imagined in the early days.
At first it was awkward. He wouldn’t lie, he’d thought of walking away more than once in those first few months, but watching Stiles break apart was somehow worse the second time around. The first time, with Void, Derek had felt helpless and lost, because he didn’t know what was happening or how he could help. This time, he knew what was wrong and he knew how to fix it, the question was if he could; because fixing Stiles meant fixing himself, and he hadn’t been sure he was ready for that.
Therapy had sucked as much as he’d anticipated.
There’d been a lot of slammed doors and cursing (in multiple languages because that’s just who Stiles was) and a lot of Derek running in his fur to put some distance between them, but the thing that had struck Derek the most was that, no matter what, Stiles never lied to him. He withheld the truth, and he downplayed practically everything that had hurt him, but he didn’t lie, which was a hell of a lot more than anyone else in his life had done.
-The nightmares had been the worst. They both had them. Considering what they’d gone through, there really wasn’t any logical reason for them not to have them. Some nights it was Void’s raspy voice filling Stiles’ dreams and sometimes it was Kate’s amused laugh filling Derek’s. Eventually, they stopped sleeping in separate rooms. They wound up twisted together on the couch so often trying to keep the cold and bloody memories away, huddled together for the warmth and security of knowing another living soul was there, that they just naturally fell into going to bed together, and since Derek’s was larger, that’s where they stayed.
It hadn’t ever been sexual, but maybe it had always been romantic.
Until this moment, until hearing the words said so casually, Stiles’ heartbeat and scent steady and fond, maybe they’d always been straddling the line between co-dependence and love. If he had to choose a best friend, it’d be Stiles. If he had to choose the last person to speak to or see before he died, it would be Stiles. If he had to sit in couples’ therapy for four weeks before realizing it was couples’ therapy and then just shrugging because it somehow made sense, then he knows it would have been with the doe-eyed idiot underneath him. Because somewhere along the way, he couldn’t stomach the idea of it being anyone else.
-
Tags
Summary
“So what I’m saying is—“ he gasps through clenched teeth “—your parents chose a pretty fitting name.”
Bookmarked by brain_ded_666
16 Apr 2025
Bookmarker's Tags:
Bookmarker's Notes
“You know, I looked it up, and your name—f-fuck, yeah, Mahir—it means ‘skilled’.”
“So—what,” Mahir manages, while switching his attention to the other side of Shaun’s throat. He slips a hand under his shirt and flicks Shaun’s nipple before pinching it, drawing a desperate noise from the other man. Shaun pushes up and against the counter, squeezing Mahir’s shoulders as he arches against him.
“So what I’m saying is—“ he gasps through clenched teeth “—your parents chose a pretty fitting name.”
Mahir stills against him, letting his head fall to Shaun’s shoulder as he groans. Even though it’s not one of those sounds that he makes when Shaun nudges his knee between Mahir’s thighs and lets him ride it, it still has the same effect.
“Can we not bring up my parents while we’re—“ he waves his hand in the air. Thankfully, for Shaun, it isn’t the one tweaking his nipple.
“Do you mean,” Shaun smiles, “while we’re fucking?”
Mahir rolls his hips forward in retaliation, drawing a breathless gasp from him, before moving back and rubbing a hand down his face. The familiarity of the gesture makes Shaun’s stomach knot in fondness and he didn’t think he could want this, want Mahir inside of him, more than he does right now.
“If you hadn’t noticed, we didn’t quite get there, because you decided to congratulate my parents on their choice of naming me—“
“Well, hop to it,” Shaun rolls his hips, too, and for the moment, it’s almost like a dirty version of tug-of-war between them, pushing back and forth and back and forth. “For my next trick, I’ll thank your dad for how well-endowed you are—“
-Shaun pulls back to let out a loud moan like he’s trying to wake everyone up on purpose.
With Mahir’s luck, probably more than one of them has already woken up from the noise (he’ll blame Shaun later, because really, he’s the conductor on this crazy train to God knows where, but they’ll probably say Mahir’s just as guilty because he didn’t get off—well. No. He’s getting off right now—)
He bites Shaun’s tongue before sucking on it, and it’s a mostly effective method to shutting him up that Mahir’s managed to pick up since they started—(he mentally waves his hand in the air again).
-
Tags
Summary
Something was distinctly wrong when Brian saw Andy outside the gym after Physics Club on Friday evening.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,885
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 19
- Kudos:
- 628
- Bookmarks:
- 44
- Hits:
- 7,643
Bookmarked by brain_ded_666
14 Apr 2025
Bookmarker's Tags:
Bookmarker's Notes
"I'm taking you home." he said firmly. "Keys?" It was rather presumptuous of him to think that Andy would even let him do that, let alone drive his Bronco, Brian reflected, and wished he could take those words back. That was until Andy handed over his car keys, looking gratefully at him, and mouthed 'thanks'. He led the way slowly to the car and all but collapsed into the passenger's seat, and Brian leaned across to wind down the window just in case. He could guess how Andy felt about his Bronco and was sure he wouldn't want the inside of it covered in vomit, even his own.
"Okay?" Brian ventured as Andy leaned back in the seat, his eyes closed, his cheeks ashen. A slight nod was the only response, and it was probably the best he was going to get at this point, so he started the car and pulled away. Brian knew the way to Andy's house, having been there several times, and was glad he didn't have to poke the older boy for directions. Andy appeared to doze off as they drove, although he did keep leaning forward to gulp in fresh air from the open window, and when they arrived he stumbled out of the car as fast as possible, looking at it through glazed eyes as if it were an instrument of torture.
Brian used the keys to open the front door, waited for Andy to come in and watched him lean once again against the wall in the hallway.
"Hey," he said softly, touching Andy where his neck joined his shoulder. The smooth skin there was burning hot, and Brian felt a sharp jolt of concern. "Hey, Andy. Go upstairs and get into bed."
Andy nodded, his forehead creased in pain and still coated in fever-sweat. His bright blue eyes held an almost frightened look, and he seemed younger suddenly – as if their positions were reversed and he was the Junior, while Brian was Varsity.
"Don't leave.." Andy whispered sadly, and Brian couldn't help but wind his arms around his neck warmly. In other circumstances, he would have been petrified that such a gesture would be too familiar or strange and he would ruin everything, but right now Andy needed comfort and Brian knew it and was willing to give it in spades.
"I'm not going to leave." he said next to Andy's ear. "I'm going to stay here, get you meds and make sure you're okay. Now, go and get into bed." He poked Andy gently in the shoulder, eliciting a tiny noise which sounded a bit like, "Okay."
-It turned out that Andy's fever had been over 100, and when he'd found that out with the thermometer after fifteen minutes of feverishly (literally) kissing Andy's burning lips and cheeks, Brian was scared – for Andy's health. Later, when the meds had brought it down and Andy was dozing in bed, he was scared more than for the fact that he might have been hallucinating that Brian was actually Allison or something. His fears were unfounded. When Andy woke up a few hours later, insisting he felt pretty much entirely better, they kissed until three in the morning. Kissed, and talked about wrestling and video games and Burger King and pressure from their parents. While Brian had thought of Andy as a polar opposite of himself, Andy had known they weren't so very different. It made Brian feel less alone, as clichéd as that sounded.
-Monday morning, his stomach rolling over, he gets a wink from John and a grinning twist of the mouth that might have been him good-humouredly mouthing the word 'queer'. He doesn't take it personally – he probably is, if Friday was anything to go by. Although maybe it's just Andy. A knowing look from Claire follows, and when he sees Allison by her locker, she leans over and whispers with a barely-suppressed giggle,
"He loves you."
And Brian smiles back at her and tries not to hope too much.
-
Tags
Summary
Suicidal ideation doesn't just disappear. Brian Johnson learns this the hard way.
-
Tags
Summary
When everyone returns to hogwarts to finish out their last year, their shocked to find their houses are forced to switch
Bookmarked by brain_ded_666
13 Apr 2025
Bookmarker's Tags:
Bookmarker's Notes
staring in the mirror felt like a trap. I cringed seeing the Ginger with dark eye bags staring right back at me. he was ugly. horrible. I just wanted to reach up and rip the skin off my face. my pale complexion matched my younger sisters, making it easy to cover the imperfections that littered my face. I glanced over at the Hogwarts invitation on my bed. I hated the thought of going back there. all those horrible memories flood back each time I look over.
“Ronald! you hurry up and return your sisters makeup at once!” my mother shouted, her voice shrieking across the house, bouncing off the walls. I sighed. ever since the battle moms always afraid a death eater will come back to hurt Ginny. as if she’s the main focus just cause she’s dating Harry. No one remembered I was here. no one cared.
“Ronald I will not ask you again!”
“ALRIGHT!” I screamed back, slamming the makeup down. I snatched the makeup and tossed it onto Ginny’s bed, earning an eye roll from the shorter ginger. I stepped into the bathroom and held a bottle of black hair dye. *I reached for the door, locking it, insuring none of my family could enter. Is this what I want? yea. I think so. right? I pour the bottle of hair dye onto my head, spreading it around slowly. I stared in the mirror as my once ginger hair was now a dark, black. I smiled softly, my smile growing bigger as I watch the hair dye overtake my natural hair. I let the hair dye sit before washing it out, almost dying the bathroom black in the process. after drying my hair, I looked in the mirror and I no longer saw that useless redheaded kid. this year is going to be different. I’m going to be okay. I grabbed my suitcase and headed downstairs earning stares from both my parents and Ginny.
“Y-your hair….” my mother stuttered, eyeing it with disgust. I rolled my eyes and pushed past her.
“Let’s go Ginny, I’m not missing the train because you feel the need to stare at everything you don’t like.” I scoffed. Ginny huffed and ran after me, but not before hugging our parents goodbye. upon entering the train station it was almost like my second home. I walked over and ran through the wall just as I had years before. on the other side, I stood at platform 9 3/4. I looked around and smiled softly as my eyes landed on a boy with glasses and a girl with messy brown hair.
“‘mione! Harry!” I called out. they both turned but their eyes passed right by me. I pouted confused until I remembered I changed my hair. I walked up to them, their bouncing eyes landing on my face, causing a shock wave through their heads.
“Ronald!! your hair! it’s.. black?” Hermione questioned, staring at my hair, while Harry very intensely stared at my face, perhaps seeing the makeup I didn’t have time to finish.
“heh, yeah. it’s cool right?”
“of course… but what change?” Harry questioned in almost a breathy whisper. I froze. I knew this question could come up but I wasn’t prepared for it so soon. my friends didn’t need to know there was anything wrong with me. -
Tags
Summary
Ron had a nightmare about the past war. Blaise came to rescue.
Bookmarked by brain_ded_666
13 Apr 2025
Bookmarker's Tags:
Bookmarker's Notes
wow that was unexpected, oh my god...
-
Tags
Summary
Buck was a fire fighter he had grown to love all of his friends that quickly turned into his family. But he also had another family. One that he didn't tell anybody about.
-
Tags
Summary
“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Stiles mutters, frozen in place.
“Stiles?!”
“Finally!” Peter exclaims, snatching the popcorn from Isaac’s hands. “I’ve been waiting all day for this!” -
Tags
Summary
The first days are always the hardest.
Buck has been the man in the back for a week after being reinstated to 118, a month after the dinner with Bobby.
118 finds a very strange scene in the loft.
Bravo Team spent four months chasing a terrorist cell, when the mission ends, Clay, Brock and Sonny look for a member of team six who had retired.
Stella gives some explanations.
Series
- Part 1 of Puppy Piles (English version)
-
Tags
Summary
Buck never expected his private life to walk into the 118, not without warning, but there he was. Now, Buck is hit with the memories of how he got to where he is but that means he also has to deal with the fact that the 118 think that they deserve answers to his past.
Series
- Part 18 of 31 Days of Writing October 2021
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,219
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 6
- Kudos:
- 442
- Bookmarks:
- 60
- Hits:
- 10,456
Bookmarked by brain_ded_666
06 Apr 2025
Bookmarker's Tags:
Bookmarker's Notes
“Evan, what’s going on?” Maddie asked as soon as she had him standing still in front of her, and she knew that he was actually paying attention to her. It was only then, as she crossed her arms across her chest, that he realised that she had come straight from her work.
“Clay turned up. He wants to talk, and Chimney and Hen are annoyed that he calls me Evan, and that I never introduced him. Apparently, he’s family because we never got divorced when I transitioned, but they don’t know. They don’t know about what we were forced to do, they don’t know about Spencer, or any of it, but how can I tell them?” He didn’t mean for it to spill out as he started walking back and forwards while he waved his hands up and down.
He was in such a world of his own as he ranted to Maddie that he didn’t even realise when Chimney, Hen, Bobby and Eddie walked out to either check on him or to push him for an insight to his private life.
“The marriage was fake! It was Clay’s way to stay here, my way to get out of the house before I was eighteen, and it meant that they had no say in what happened to Spencer. The only reason we never got divorced is so that someone aside from Ash would know if anything happened to Clay!” Buck exclaimed before he spun on his heel and turned to face the inside of the firehouse. Only instead of seeing them milling around inside, he saw them standing there shocked.
“You got fake married?” Chimney spat out incredulously again. And it was at that moment that Buck decided to speak up.
“It’s nothing to do with you guys, it’s my history, and I’m not sharing it with you guys. It’s between me and Clay and no one else.”
-
Tags
Summary
In which team finds out Buck has a husband, when said husband turned up out of a blue and asked for a divorce.
Bookmarked by brain_ded_666
06 Apr 2025
Bookmarker's Tags:
Bookmarker's Notes
“Clay what are you doing here?” Buck asked as he walked towards the scruffy looking man.
“Hi, Evan.” The man greeted as he met Buck half way, giving Buck a tight hug and, to the young firefighter’s surprise, a kiss on his cheek. Buck could feel the stares bore onto his back. “Sorry to drop in on you at work but I don’t have you phone number or home address.”
“You mean to tell me that years of working with CIA and you can’t even get my contact info?”
“I work as their muscle Evan, I don’t do the intelligence part.”
“We both know that’s bull, Clay. You speak six languages, you are more than just the muscle.”
“And you basically thought me five of those, though I speak nine now, not all fluently but I get by.”
“And you are still arrogant as ever.” Buck sighed, some things never changed.
“Can we talk privately?” Clay asked when he noticed the peanut gallery behind Buck.
No. Buck thought, he didn’t really want to do this here in the station but it’s only the start of his shift and he can’t really leave so he said, “I can’t leave but we can talk inside, I got a couple minutes so it better be quick.”
-“You were awfully quiet after me telling you guys about Clay.” Buck said as soon as him and Eddie were left alone in the locker room. “You barely talked to me all day too. Is there a problem?”
“No.” Eddie replied, abrupt and clearly not wanting to talk about it but at seeing Buck’s pleading gaze, he relented, “Okay I admit I was a little upset because I thought by now we told each other everything. But then I get a slap in the face and realize I don’t know you at all. I mean I didn’t even tell me you were married. Or that you ex-husband is a slimy squid.”
“I’m still technically married. And I believe military term is frogmen not squid.”
“Well maybe in the Navy, in the Army they are slimy squids.” Eddie huffed. “Seriously though, Buck. Why didn’t you tell me? I mean we talked about our exes before. You told me about Abby. You know about Shannon. Heck I even told you about Alex from boot camp. So I don’t know why you thought you couldn’t tell me about your ex-husband Clay.”
“It’s for the same reason you didn’t talk about your ex-wife back when I first asked you.”
“You asked me that before we got really close. And she’s not my ex-wife, she was my wife. There’s a difference.”
“Exactly, she wasn’t your ex-wife. Just like Clay isn’t my ex-husband. I didn’t talk about him like he is my ex because he isn’t.”
“You were separated, you said you didn’t see each other for six years.”
“I know that. I know in my head we are over and truly broken up,” Buck said while gesturing to his head then he laid his hand on his chest, “But here. Well here it’s stupid, because here there’s hope. So I didn’t talk about him like he’s my ex because then it would be like admitting that it’s truly over, no takebacksies over. I was over Clay but I guess I hadn’t reach that point where my heart’s willing to acknowledge it.”
“You dated a lot after him though, that’s like more than acknowledging it. That’s moving on.”
“It’s adapting a coping mechanism. An unhealthy one at that. I had a long list of one night stands because felt rejected and needed validation. Plus I like having sex but I was determined not to let anyone in again. Then I met Abby, who made me realize I crave intimacy not sex, she made me feel safe to love again, but she left before I could commit to loving her. Which was fortunate cause I don’t know how would get over it if she left me after I learned to love her.”
“I don’t think loving someone could be learned, Buck. Either you do, or you don’t.”
“Maybe so. But my point was I didn’t talk about him cause I thought I wasn’t over him yet. And I would have when I’m ready. I didn’t know when I just knew that talking about him before that would be like–”
“Like poking an open wound.”
“Yes exactly like that.” Buck picked up that metaphor and expounded on it. “What I didn’t realize was that wound long scabbed over. And I left it thinking that if I picked on it, it would bleed again. Only to find out today that it’s all healed.”
“What was the kiss then?”
“The what?”
“The kiss I interrupted Buck.”
“I’m not sure but it felt like a goodbye.”
“I’m not an expert, Buck, but when he kissed you it looked more than just goodbye.” If Buck didn’t know better, he’d say Eddie sounded jealous as he said, “He’s all over you.”
“He isn’t. He kissed me but I’m telling you now, that kiss doesn’t feel like it meant anything to him. Or me. It’s not like what you think.”
“If you say so.” Eddie looked to Buck trying to see the truth in his eyes.
“I say so.” Buck said determined as held the other man’s gaze for a few moments, before looking away and shyly admitting, “Besides there is someone else I like.”
-
When Old Life Comes Knocking by Balls5000
Fandoms: 9-1-1 (TV), Hawaii Five-0 (2010), S.W.A.T. (TV 2017), Chicago Fire, SEAL Team (TV)
01 May 2025
Tags
Summary
Buck was a part of Bravo team with the addition of Steve, Hondo, TK, and Kelly. The 4 of them left when Steve got out while the rest remained part of the team, and they keep that part of themselves a secret unless it is needed. What happens when an old mission resurfaces so they bring them out of reserves?
Bookmarked by brain_ded_666
02 Apr 2025
Bookmarker's Tags:
Bookmarker's Notes
Buck: How bad and how much evidence you got?
Jace: It's bad kid, and a lot.
That has me really worried.
Buck: I should wait for papers then?
Jace: I would say so, be careful kid they may be after the team
Buck: Hear ya loud and clear Jace. Gotta go at work. Keep me updated.
Jace: Will do kid.
I put my phone away just as Bobby calls everyone to breakfast. "So Buck, who were ya texting?" Bobby asks. "Some old friends, we're trying to get ahold of another one of our friends that went quiet around a week ago and it has us all worried." I explain and they nod in understanding. "Should I worry about anyone storming into the station?" Bobby asks and I don't know how to answer that. "Uh... That depends." I respond vaguely. Everyone gives me a questioning look when the alarm goes off so for now, I am saved from answering questions.
"It's a rescue with SWAT. Some of their guys got trapped in a hostage situation. They'll tell us more when we get there." Bobby informs us and my stomach drops thinking about Hondo. We get there a few minutes later and I see Street by some LAPD officers and Athena. "Street! Is Hondo in there?" I ask and he nods with a sad look in his eye. "Oh Buck, who's Steve?" Street asks and I feel sick. "Why?" I ask hesitantly. "The guys in there were saying stuff about him and Hondo got real mad." Street tells me and I feel my blood run cold. They mentioned Steve. "Got an ID on anyone?" Street asks Athena and she nods her head. Please don't say it, please don't say it- "Alam Hirari? Who even is that?" I know by the way Bobby, Athena, and Street are looking at me that I look tense. "Buck? What's wrong?" Bobby asks. "I gotta make a call." I tell him and walk to behind the rig.
"Jason Hayes."
"Jace, it's Buck. Hirari has Hondo in a hostage situation and he mentioned Steve according to a coworker of Hondo." I inform him.
"Fuck, ok. Where are you?"
"An abandoned apartment building. I'll send coordinates." I tell him.
"Alright kid. I'll be there as soon as I can."
"Alright, see you soon Jace." I say and he hangs up.
"Who was that Buckaroo?" Athena asks. "A friend." I answer vaguely. "Why did you have to call them?" She presses and I just don't answer. But then I hear gunshots. "Street!" I call a little worried. "I need someone to go in with me!" He yells to everyone, but no one offers. "I will." I say and Bobby and Athena give me a pointed look. "Buck, you are a firefighter, you can't do that!" Bobby protests. "My friend is in there, Bobby! I don't give a fuck!" I yell at him. That's when a car speeds over to us. "Long time no see kid! See your still nuts." Sonny remarks as he gets out with his vest and rifle. "Oh get off my dick Sonny." I Snark back and Jason sighs. "Alright, we will be taking this over. It is now a military matter. Buck, you stay out here I do not need an ass chewing from Blackburn." Jason orders and I huff. "Spener! Stay with Buckley!" He orders Clay and he lets out a squak. "Hey! That is so unfair!" He protests but gets shut up when Brock chuckles. "Stay put kids." Sonny teases so I flip him off.
-When we infiltrate the room, we only see Hondo. "Evan what the fuck are you doing in here?" He asks me. "Getting your ass obviously. I'm not gonna let them have all the fun!" I reply and get him untied so we can get out of here. "We will talk about this when we are out of this place." Hondo tells me and I nod a little too happily.
When we finally get out, Jason reports to Blackburn, the 118 and Athena come to bombard me. "What the hell were you thinking Buck!?" Athena demands. "Hold up, my turn!" Hondo tells everyone and they look at him weird. "Evan James Buckley I swear to god if you ever do shit like that again I will have Steve make you go stay with him because I know damn well Danno will keep you in check. You ran in there WITHOUT A VEST, WITH A GODDAMN HANDGUN, AND ALONE WITH CLAY!! You 2 ALWAYS end up hurt when it's just you 2! I swear to god I will have Blackburn to tell them to not have your ass helping!" Hondo yells at me. "Hey, you can't say shit!! I went in there to help save your ass!!" I yell back. "You don't need to help my ass, Evan!! DO YOU KNOW WHAT STEVE WOULD DO TO ME IF YOU GOT FUCKING HURT!? OR KILLED??" He asks me. "He'd be upset." I reply. "He would kill my ass for being in a position with you around that you decided to pull that shit." Hondo tells me. "Well too fucking bad, he knows damn well I'd go after any one of you if you're in fucking danger!" I yell at him, and he smacks my head. "That's the issue Evan! You don't think! Youd didn't have fucking protection!" Hondo says letting some fear seep into his voice.
-
The Story Keeper by Word_Woven
Fandoms: 9-1-1 (TV), Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
01 Apr 2025
Tags
Summary
Evan Buckley was born to wander. Raised by mortals, claimed by a god, and forged in the fires of myth and war, he carries the stories of every soul he's ever touched. Literally.
He's a demigod—the last true son of Hermes in this corner of the world. A veteran of ancient battles disguised as summer camp, a hero to gods who barely remember his name, and now... a firefighter in Los Angeles, still trying to figure out where he belongs.
But when Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, and Grover come to his firehouse with a warning from Athena herself, Buck is pulled back into a world he never truly left. Forgotten gods are stirring. Memories are being erased. And Buck, the Story Keeper, may be the only one who can stop the world from forgetting itself entirely.
He’s not just fighting monsters this time. He’s fighting for the stories of every soul that’s ever lived—and every one that was left behind.
Bookmarked by brain_ded_666
01 Apr 2025
Bookmarker's Tags:
Bookmarker's Notes
And three passengers—two demigods and a satyr—squeezed into the Jeep like they’d been doing this their whole lives.
“You ever think about upgrading this thing?” Annabeth asked, eyeing the cracked dash.
“It’s enchanted to survive hydra venom, lava, and my driving,” Buck replied without missing a beat. “Why mess with perfection?”
“It’s held together with duct tape and stubbornness.”
“Exactly. Like me.”
-"ANNABETH, LEFT FLANK!" Buck bellowed, slicing through a skeletal wolf-thing that howled in multiple voices. "PERCY, HEAD ON—GO FOR THE SPINE!"
Arrows flew. Wind rushed. Grover blasted a chord so loud the air vibrated, making the creature stumble.
Buck lunged forward, knocking the monster back with his shield—and that’s when his phone buzzed in his pocket.
Eddie Diaz calling.
Buck cursed, ducked a claw swipe, flipped behind the beast, and jammed his sword into its back. The monster shrieked, disintegrating mid-spin, leaving ash on his armor.
He wiped his hand off on his pants and answered the call.
“Hey, Eddie!” he said, slightly breathless.
“Buck?” Eddie’s voice came through, puzzled and faintly concerned. “You sound like you’re… running?”
“Eh, bit of cardio,” Buck quipped, dodging another attack as he signaled Percy to flank right. “What’s up?”
“Christopher wanted to talk to you before bed.”
Buck’s eyes softened instantly, even as he parried a blow and kicked a smaller scout off its feet. “Put him on!”
“Uncle Buck!” Chris’s bright voice piped in. “Are you fighting monsters again? The ones that sneak under my bed at night?”
Buck winced. “What makes you say that?”
“I can hear the sword noises.”
Percy, overhearing, burst into laughter mid-fight. “Busted!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Buck muttered. “I might be fighting a few nightmare creatures. But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Be safe, okay?” Chris said.
Buck glanced at his team—Grover casting a spell with shaking fingers, Annabeth backing up against a crumbling pillar, Percy breathing hard but grinning like a maniac.
He smiled. Soft. Fierce. Home.
“Always, buddy. I promise. Love you.”
“Love you too!”
Buck hung up, spun, and plunged his blade into the final creature’s core with a roar that echoed across the desert. The thing shuddered—and shattered into dust.
-“What the hell happened to you?” Chim barked before Buck could say a word.
Hen stood up, arms folded, giving him the once-over. “You look like you were thrown through a meat grinder, Buck.”
Buck glanced down. His jeans were ripped at the knees, there was a purple bruise blooming along his jaw, and his shirt was so stained with dried blood and dirt it was hardly fabric anymore.
“Oh, you know,” Buck said, limping just slightly as he walked further in, “team-building hike went sideways. You should see the other guy. Trees. A whole forest. Very angry.”
“Trees?” Eddie repeated, brows knitting.
Buck flashed him a grin and finger-gunned at him. “The wilderness is a cruel mistress.”
“You’ve got new tattoos,” Bobby said quietly from behind the counter, and Buck stiffened.
The room went still.
Eddie tilted his head. “Wait—yeah. When did you get those?”
Buck looked at his forearms. The swirling constellation of symbols and names, old languages etched in fine lines down to his wrists, all woven in with his existing ink like they’d always belonged there.
“Oh, those?” Buck shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh… lost a bet.”
“Lost a bet,” Chim repeated, deadpan.
“Yeah. Against some sketchy monks in the desert. Never gamble on enchanted dice, fellas.”
“You are the sketchy monk,” Hen muttered.
Athena entered from the hall, glanced at Buck once, and narrowed her eyes. “What actually happened, Evan?”
He paused. Just long enough for a heartbeat to pass too slow.
Then he smiled. Gently.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
And that was the thing about Buck. He wasn’t lying. Not exactly. Because he had handled it. The Forgotten were gone. The memories were free. The dead remembered.
And he was still standing.
Still Buck.
Bruised, bandaged, a little slower in the step—but brighter, somehow. Like something within him had finally been set right.
Bobby studied him for a long moment, and then just nodded. “Welcome home, Buck.”
Buck smiled, soft and grateful. “Thanks, Cap.”
-
Keep all your secrets til the end by Buddieforever1111
Fandoms: 9-1-1 (TV), SEAL Team (TV)
14 Mar 2025
Tags
Summary
How do you tell the most important group of people in your life a secret you’ve kept from them since you’ve known said group of people? Do you know the answer? How do you keep something so trivial from everyone you care about when it could eventually bite you in the ass sooner rather than later and the latter happens quicker than Buck was ready for.
Or....
Buck has been keeping a few massive secrets from his team for several years now until one of those major secrets, shows up at the station out of the blue.
Why are they here?
What other secrets will show their true colors?
And what will Buck's team feel when they find out they don't know that much about their resident golden retriever?
Bookmarked by brain_ded_666
01 Apr 2025
Bookmarker's Tags:
Bookmarker's Notes
Steve sighs deeply knowing Buck should be the one to tell the story, but he can’t and Steve knows it kills his son. “I’m only going to explain a little bit of it and the rest Buck can explain better. It was a terrible mission from the beginning and we knew it, but it was important. Everything got so much worse when Buck disappeared,” Buck shivers at the memory and Steve watches as Clay, Ryn, and Sonny crowd around him to comfort him while Danny comforts Steve. “By the time we found him, we all thought he was dead but somehow he wasn’t and it all hit us pretty hard. We were all just happy that he was alive, but the reason it’s so hard to talk about it now is because he still has a constant reminder.” Buck steps out of the grasp of his teammates and lifts his shirt showing his chest scar. They all gasp at the scar.
Eddie makes a move first and comes up to pull Buck’s shirt back down, “You don’t have anything to prove. We believe you.” Eddie reassures and pulls Buck into a hug holding him tight, but gentle at the same time if it was even possible. The talk of Buck’s past dies soon after with everyone just glad he’s ok. They start to mingle with Buck’s team while Buck walks away taking a deep breath in the space of a different room in the house: the kitchen.