buckleycest
Fandoms
- 9-1-1 (TV) (24)
- Supernatural (TV 2005) (8)
- The Pitt (TV) (1)
- Heated Rivalry (TV) (1)
- The Boys (TV 2019) (1)
Recent works
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Buck and Eddie admire each other's dicks!
For #BOTTOMEDDIEWEEK's Day 1 prompt - Fixations.
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Eddie is at a firefighter conference and has invited a certain pilot over for some juicy hotel sex. One issue: Buck is in the hotel room next-door.
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Buck finds May at a night club. She asks him to take care of her.
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Buck and Eddie finally get some alone time, and Eddie wants Buck to top him.
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Tommy needs proof that he owns Eddie from tip to toe. Which tip, you ask? Well...
Recent bookmarks
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His reflection is pallid, eyes dull. He’s lost weight, and somehow didn’t notice it until he looked in this mirror eight hundred miles away from the one he’s looked in every day for months. He notes that he’s split his lip open chewing on it, but his body doesn’t move to wipe that blood away. He shaved with Buck’s razor this afternoon before he put his funeral suit on, the one Buck bought for him despite his admittedly weak protestations, and he nicked the wing of his jaw. He was right earlier. The circles beneath his eyes are dark as plumbs.
There is something wrong with him.
Eddie tugs the sleeves of Buck’s sweatshirt down over his stiff hands before he goes back to bed, so at least if he starts bleeding again he won’t ruin Buck’s nice soft sheets.
*
Eddie develops stigmata.
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Yes. I noticed. A pause, then: Also you looked very good out there. Almost made me forget you are my patient.
Former patient, Shane corrected before he could even think twice about it, then cursed his own brain. He gnawed the inside of his cheek raw.
Mmm. Former. Another pause. Shane's mind supplied him a very unhelpful memory of Ilya's humming, felt it resonate deep inside of him, with a need he didn't want to name but could. Are you home?
In which Dr. Rozanov gets intimate with Shane's eyes... and elsewhere.
As of June 30, 2026, additional meta resources have been added to this work.
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About Summer by chaentics for inkingbrushes
Fandoms: Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
09 Feb 2026
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In 2008, Shane Hollander lost to Ilya Rozanov. Fresh-faced, hungry. Like he’d been living off victory points that were scraps compared to the real thing, compared to beating Rozanov, the first man in the world to make him feel second-best. Back then, he’d thought that was the only thing he felt, too. That the electric pulse jostling between them in the gym some time later was a trick of the mind. It was like seeing sky above for the first time. See you at the draft. Life in that paper body.
or: Ilya comes back. This is the crux of it.
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Bookmarked by buckleycest
17 Jun 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
lying on the floor sobbing since about halfway
read blind!
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Eddie simply cannot know that he is currently naked. That would be catastrophic.
“Um, I— did you need anything? I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Buck says, which. Okay. That did not sound convincing. He adds, “I can call you back in ten?”
“I thought you just woke up?” Eddie says, and, fuck— Buck did basically say that.
Carefully, he says, “I did.”
“So what were you—?”
God, this is mortifying. This might be the worst thing that’s ever happened to Buck, and he’s been caught in, like, four natural disasters. And also struck by lightning. And had a fire engine fall on him. He even dated (he shudders at the thought) Tommy Kinard.
“Eddie,” he says. He doesn’t know what else to say.
“What? If you need to pee you can just mute yourself.”
“Eddie, that’s not—”
“Then what?” Eddie laughs. “If you’re still in bed, you can’t ha— oh.”
Or: Buck answers the phone in the middle of jerking off. For some reason, Eddie asks him not to hang up.
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Five or so minutes in, he’s so focused that he doesn’t even register the strong hands grabbing his hips—but quickly, all at once, he’s painfully aware of them as they tug his sweatpants and underwear down together. Buck’s mouth is stuffed full of dick, muffling the panicked whimper that escapes him, but it’s the only sound in the room.
He knows there are multiple men behind him, multiple men now staring at Buck’s ass in the air, his thighs parted, and between them, his soaked, pink pussy—his secret, out in the open, exposed and dripping for them all to see.
The chill air makes him even more aware of how wet he is. A hand splays over his tailbone, holding him in place.
“Shit, Buckley,” someone chuckles. “You’ve been holding out on us.”