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for your consideration......soft (or not) dom tommy "forcing" evan to verbalize how much he likes cock and being fucked as it's happening. it gets both of them hot but it REEALLYy does something for buck.
"a comedy from the seventies/with a lead no one recalls"
bucktommy / rated e / 600 words
“You wanna hear something funny?”
“Uh,” says Tommy. “If you’re still asking questions I’m clearly not doing my job here.”
Pinned to the bed by the rhythmic rocking of Buck’s hips, Tommy seems to brace his knees, granting himself better leverage. His pace doubles, and yeah- that does the trick.
“Oh, shit,” gasps Buck, meeting him pound for pound. “Right- right there, yeah.”
“So,” says Tommy, a little more out of breath than he was ten seconds—and ten thrusts—ago. “What’s so funny?”
“Hmm?” Buck says, grinding his hips in little circles, entranced by how stiff and bloated Tommy feels tucked inside of him. The way he’s budged up against his prostrate is sending sparks through his spinal cord. “What’s funny?” Buck slurs.
“You said-”
“Oh, right, I- I was saying isn’t it funny that there was a time when, like, I wasn’t sure if I would be into this?”
“And what’s,” says Tommy, a well-timed powerful thrust giving away his bluff, “this?”
“This,” answers Buck, tilting up until only Tommy’s tip is at the rim of his contracting hole. “You know,” he says, sliding back down and punching a burly groan out of Tommy in the process. “Takin’ it.”
“Oh. Taking it?”
“Mhm,” affirms Buck, swiveling against him, always trying for more even when there’s nothing else to take.
“I don’t think it’s funny,” says Tommy, his hands settling on Buck’s ass and helping to set a new speed by pulling Buck on and off of him. “But, how do you feel about it now?”
Buck scoffs and clenches. “Uh- what do you think?”
“No,” says Tommy, “you should say it.” Buck feels his cheeks heat almost immediately. The tone of his voice is stern, and it’s dropped real low. “Tell me what you like so much about my cock.”
“Tommy,” he huffs, and then he bites his lip. He’s never one to shy away from dirty talk, but this seems sorta different. Then, when Tommy stops shoving in, Buck knows he means business.
This shouldn’t be too hard. There were a good few months there where Buck thought he’d never feel it again. This is fair recompense.
“Okay, I- you know what I really like?”
“Tell me.”
“Watching it get hard.” That gets Tommy thrusting up again. “The way it gets all pink and veiny and- I used to really like watching myself fill out, which I didn’t really get cause, well, you know why. But- s’even better watching you.” Buck leans down and swipes a lick at Tommy’s parted lips. “Makes my mouth fuckin’ water.”
Tommy slams up. “What else, Evan? Tell me, baby.”
Buck rises up, stretching his torso out while he’s still supported by his knees. Tommy leans up to follow, and Buck paws at his shoulders.
“Uh- okay. I get this feeling in my gut sometimes, it’s sorta hard to explain but- yeah, I’ll try.”
Always so in sync with each other, they lean over together, flipping their bodies around until Buck’s on his back. Tommy’s cock pops right back inside, the sound overtly wet.
“It’s sort of like- biological. There’s a part of me, I think, that needs your cock. Something, I dunno- evolutionary.”
“Evan,” says Tommy, over him and plowing into him. “Goddamn.”
“This is gonna sound so dumb-”
Tommy’s arms are at either side of Buck’s head. “Say it anyway.”
“I- I don’t think my body knows we can’t make a baby. It’s just like- I see your dick and I’m like, I need that thing on a reproductive level.”
Tommy fucking collapses, spilling his load inside with a slam much sooner than either of them expected. Seems like a big one, too.
“That wasn’t dumb,” Tommy says, wiggling his hips and enjoying the mess.
“What about funny?”
“Mm,” he says into a kiss. “Sure. You’re hysterical.”
Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot | Daddy Kink | Glasses kink | Frottage | Cock Warming | Blow Jobs | Hand Jobs | Praise Kink | Teasing
"Got your sexy glasses on," Evan says, shifting his hips until Tommy can feel his morning erection pressing against his leg.
Tommy raises an eyebrow at him.
"And?"
Evan smirks. "And, I was wondering if you wanna have sex about it?"
It's a tempting offer, especially considering the undercurrent of desperation Tommy can hear in his voice; they'd had a week of mismatching shifts and Evan had collapsed into bed late last night after his twenty four had run over, too tired to get up to anything except sleep.
Tommy can't pretend he's not also desperate to feel Evan beneath him, to reacquaint himself with his boyfriend's body, but the urge to play with him is just too strong so instead he turns his attention back to his book.
"Not now, sweetheart, daddy's reading."
for the @bucktommywinterfest prompt: Bucktommy Anniversary
I thought about drawing the first kiss for this prompt but I can't draw for the life of me so I crosstitched them instead!
This is the reason I barely posted anything for the earlier prompts, I was focused on getting this done so I have loads of unedited drafts lmao, I might post some of them now that I'm done with this. This event has been so fun!!!
^ some close-ups plus the back, which is honestly not nearly as messy as I expected :)
Lyrics of Below - SillyMe (the song that plays at the bar with Buck and Ravi, and throughout the hookup scene) under the cut. (They're long screenshots from a word document)
I saw some people asking about them and was also curious so I tried my best. I couldn't figure out part of one line, pls forgive me, but the rest i'm like 95% sure on! (It also may or may not be "felt home" and not "found home" but oh well)
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For the @bucktommywinterfest prompt: Valentine's Day.
Rating: Gen.
Tommy's lying on the couch, watching sad romcoms and drowning his sorrows in ice cream when the door rings. His door dash shouldn't be here for another 15 minutes, and he doubts sal would be at his door when he could be at home with his wife.
Still, he makes his way to the door, leaving his half-melted cookie dough on the coffee table. He looks a mess: ice cream down his front; 3-day-old sweatpants riding up his calves; unwashed hair sticking out all over the place. It's not like the delivery driver will mind that his eye bags match the navy of his Henley.
Only it's not a delivery driver that he opens the door to. Instead, he finds a terrified looking Evan, covered in paint and glitter. He's clutching a card in his hand, one that's covered in the same glitter that Evan is.
"Hey Ev-Buck. What are you doing here?" In lieu of an answer, Evan stuck the card out towards Tommy. It was pale pink, with some heart shaped stickers dotted around. There was purple glitter forming... Waves? along the bottom, and the words 'You set my heart alight' were written above in purple felt tip.
"They're, um, supposed to be flames" Buck rubbed the back of his neck and turned away, embarrassed. Tommy bit back a smile, his eyes crinkling, and opened the card. There wasn't much written inside, a simple 'Be Mine?' in neat block capital, but it's signed:
Love,
Your Evan.
Buck had turned back to Tommy, eyes flicking between the card and his eyes. Tommy smiled fully, and held out his hand to Buck.
for the @bucktommywinterfest prompt: midnight kiss and/or resolutions
Rating: Gen.
"I resolve... To talk more. To share things even if I don't want to acknowledge them. And to stop running from my problems." Tommy rushed the last part out and then downed his shot - a whiskey he'd had for 6 years and only drank on special occasions.
They were 2 and a half shots deep, half an hour into 2025, and had made it a minute without trying to kiss eachother. The two months they were split felt like a lifetime, and Tommy wanted nothing more than to keep Evan in his arms until they both passed - and even then, for them to be buried in an embrace.
Evan had come round 45 seconds before the new year. It took Tommy 35 to get to the door, 7 to question what Evan was doing there, and 3 for Evan to pull him forward into a kiss. Exactly as the clock struck midnight.
The fireworks were more than metaphorical, and felt infinitely more intense. The kiss was somehow wonderfully long and unbearably short. Too much yet not enough. Tommy thought he'd never come up for air, and to suffocate in Evan's arms was a fate he gladly accepted.
Neither knew how long they stayed like that, lips moving together in Tommy's entryway, but by the time they pulled apart the fireworks had stopped. The city was silent, the only sounds being their laboured breathing and the blood rushing around their ears.
Buck had pushed past Tommy towards the couch, gripping his wrist and dragging Tommy behind him. They sat in silence for a minute, slowly leaning into eachother. Evan breaks the tension, kissing Tommy again but this time pulling away quickly.
Evan busied himself by taking the shot Tommy had poured for himself, before pouring another and taking that too. He poured a third, but instead of dowing that one, he placed it in front of Tommy.
"I resolve to fight for what I want." He blurts out, looking proud of himself. Tommy laughs, and starts "Evan, what-" before he's interrupted. "My new years resolution. Is to fight, instead of cling. I should've fought for Maddie, for Abby, for you."
"Evan, you can't blame yourself for-" "I don't. But, I do wish I'd have fought harder. For you, specifically." He grabbed Tommy's hands, and looked deep into his eyes.
Tommy nodded, and thought for a moment. "I resolve... To talk more. To share things even if I don't want to acknowledge them. And to stop running from my problems." Evan smiled, before leaning forward to kiss Tommy.
He swallowed the alcohol he'd stolen from Tommy's mouth, before diving in for more. It doesn't have to lead anywhere, they're both perfectly content to stay there make out until next year comes around.
You'll light up everybody's faces, and babe, you know the time has come.
For the @bucktommywinterfest prompt: first [winter holiday/tradition] together and/or clothes sharing
Rating: Teen (mild sex and abuse references)
Title from Michael Bublé's "The Christmas Sweater"
Just a silly little thing about ugly sweater competitions and dressing your boyfriend up :)
Christmases in the Kinard house were almost always the same: His mom spending hours in the kitchen; his dad getting drunk and yelling non-stop until he passed out; Tommy, his sister Kathy, and their mom sneaking off to exchange their own gifts. The weeks leading up to Christmas, however, were different. Nicer. Decorating the house, sneaking off in the mall to buy gifts without the recipient noticing, listening to the same tape they'd had so long the label was missing its ink. Tommy's favourite, though, was the sweater competition.
They'd all make the ugliest sweaters imaginable, Nonna would help them embroider them, and have a competition to see who's was the worst. They always tied, their grandparents not wanting to choose between the three. When Nonna's arthritis got bad, Tommy learnt how to embroider on his own - which his dad was less than pleased about.
His first winter in the army he managed to scrounge up a needle and thread, and patched up an old shirt. Kathy had called it 'sweater-adjacent' in her letter. But he still participated, even from halfway across the world.
Over the years, the arrangements changed. After their parent's divorce, their mom didn't really celebrate anything, so Tommy and Kathy tried to keep it alive themselves. After the pandemic, they were reduced to video calls with Kathy's kids as the judges, uncle Tommy winning most times because of favouritism.
This year's sweater was lime green, covered in embroidered baubles and stars, with working lights shining through the holes that Tommy had cut . The lights were multicoloured - a cacophony of red, green, yellow and blue - clashing with the sweater. When Evan saw it, he jokingly covered his eyes.
Tommy had never spent Christmas with a significant other before. There was one time, when his "best friend" came over when he was younger, but occasionally making out with a guy under the bleachers doesn't really qualify as dating. Him and Abby both pulled Christmas shifts, knowing just how busy it gets over the holidays. But now he had Evan.
When Evan had asked Tommy about Christmas traditions, it was clear he wasn't expecting any from his childhood. Evan had told him about Christmas growing up with the Buckley's, about how it was very put together. Nothing personal, nothing particularly fun. Just a green tree, with red and gold decorations, and those blindingly white string lights. The stockings were all the same, and no house other than the living room got decorated. Evan had also never owned a christmas sweater.
"What do you mean you've never owned a Christmas sweater?" Tommy asked incredulously. "There is no way you've had 33 christmasses and not once worn a sweater. Not even a nice one?" Evan thought for a minute, before answering "We wore red ones! Well, mine was a sweater and Maddie's was a cardigan, but still!" Tommy rolled his eyes, and told Evan to stay before running up to the bedroom.
He came back with a large crocheted sweater, made of thick, navy blue wool, and pulled it over Evan's head. There were a bunch of novelty baubles hanging off of it, firetrucks and dinosaurs and a... Jar of pickles? Buck tried to crane his head around to see the back but Tommy's hands on his face stopped him.
"This was my entry for 2017. Kathy won, but I did get a pity vote from her eldest because I could fly. It suits you." Tommy smiled, before kissing the grin off of Evan's face. He pulled the sleeves over his hands, and brought his hands up to Tommy's face. The wool felt itchy, but not unpleasant, like the beard burn that coated his thighs.
Tommy broke the kiss after Evan flicked the switch on his lights. "Look, you turned me on," He said with a flirty smirk. Buck broke down laughing, slapping Tommy in the chest lightly. "You're such a dork, babe." They kissed again, short and sweet. "You love it" Tommy's grin was up to his eyes, nearly obscuring his vision. He brought his hands to Evan's hips, swaying them back and forth. Buck's eyes were fixed on his lips, a matching smile on his face. "I really do."
When it came time for the competition, Tommy pulled Evan into view of the camera, introducing him to the kids. Kathy's husband never dressed up - not out of malice but because he ran too hot for sweaters - so Tommy got bonus points for getting his man to join in. The kids reassured their dad that he would've won anyways, the lime green was much worse than the hot pink one their mom wore.
The call ended after a few hours, Kathy's phone battery was nearly out and they'd ran out of things to talk about anyway. Buck had ran off to the kitchen, to bake gingerbread for the houses him and Jee would assemble tomorrow. When Tommy entered the kitchen, the first thing he noted was the strong scent of ginger in the air.
Evan was bent over the counter, carefully cutting out dough according to his parchment pattern. Tommy wrapped his arms around him, pulling him back up to kiss behind his ear. "Please tell me I can dress you up next year?" He whispered quietly, smile audible even then. Buck turned in his arms, and wrapped his own around Tommy's shoulders. "As long as they're your clothes, you can put me in whatever you want."
Heya! This is just a very tiny ficlet in the Alex-verse (Bucktommy girl dads) for @bucktommywinterfest - sharing clothes. I really wanted to contribute but just haven't had time to write something longer this week. I hope you guys like it anyway. ❤️
It’s a beautiful night for an outdoor movie, a little colder than normal for LA in December, but Buck’s got both of his arms occupied by two of his favorite people on this planet and he couldn’t feel warmer if he tried.
However, he realizes that he can feel the smaller of the two shivering a little.
“Hey, bug,” he says quietly so as not to bother the other movie goers. “Are you cold?”
She screws up her face. Both Buck and Tommy had insisted that she wear her heavier jacket tonight, or at least bring it with her, but she’s 13 and insisted that she was fine. Buck can tell she’s weighing her options right now and just when he thinks she’s going to go with her denial, she sighs.
“Yes,” she admits and Buck can feel Tommy snicker beside him. He elbows his husband in the ribs and is satisfied when he gets a slight ‘oof’ in response.
“I heard that,” she grumbles.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” Tommy whispers when someone shushes them. “Want me to go get your jacket?”
“You can have mine,” Buck says shrugging it off immediately. Tommy is like his own husband-slash-space heater anyway, add their kid to that and Buck’s plenty warm.
Alex takes it without complaint as he tucks it around her before settling back into Tommy’s arms while Alex tucks herself against Buck’s leg, looking adorable in Buck’s giant coat.
“I love this,” Tommy whispers into his ear. “That she still wants to spend time with us like this, you know?”
“Me too,” Buck answers before kissing him softly. “Love you.”
Tommy smiles. “I love you too.”
tag list (let me know if you'd like to be removed):
It was explicit, one chapter, and Buck/Tommy was the only relationship. It starts on a call, a girl had ingested poppers in a club and Buck sniffed them to see what it was. He mentions it to Tommy, who says he used to do them when he bottomed before he got used to it.
Buck buys the same brand (either Liquid Gold or Rush, I think) from a sex shop, and Tommy helps him do them while they fuck. Buck bottoms. I think there was Daddy kink? Also at the time the fic wasn't locked.
I'm pretty sure the title was one of those long ones where half of it is in brackets but I'm not 100% sure
I've looked in my bookmarks, my reading history, I've gone through and checked all my muted users, I can't find anything. Idk if it's been deleted or what.
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You won't get media with messier, more nuanced, more realistic queer characters if you keep flying off the handle the second a fictional character has sex, does drugs, swears too much, or acts vaguely like an asshole.
You won't get more diverse queer media with wider stories if you can't handle it when queer artists make art that is raunchy, crude, edgy, and gross.
You won't get more diverse queer media if you shut everything down the second it does something you, personally, get squicked out by.
You will never get more diverse queer media if you contribute to the way queer media is picked apart, raked over the coals, and held to unreasonably high standards.
You will never get what you want if you keep tearing queer artists down for their weird experimental art instead of learning how to say, "this isn't for me, that's fine, and I'll be over here in my own space."
Tfw you tell your brother not to time travel, he does it anyway, it goes wrong and he gets lost, you spend 17 years looking for him, and when he finally returns the first thing he does is bitch at you because time travel isn't all it's cracked up to be.
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